The header of this post is an absolute truth. For the past three days rioting - for whatever reason - has been unleashed upon these historical city streets. Hours I have spend online viewing pictures, videos, tweets, articles, live feed and blog trying to find a common thread that would lead me to a possible cause.
The spark?
The uncertain death of a 29 year old man shot by police. He had been accused of illegal weapons dealing, but now there is talk of conspiracy. Of course I cannot say much more on this, but what I can say is that this spark should not equal the abuse in the streets. In fact, with one report on this man's death it was shown that only three flowers were placed on the place he was killed. Three flowers resulting in three nights of violence - so far - and abuse to the streets.
Burning.
The rioters are taking this moment of apparent weakness to burn their city. They are destroying the local businesses that support generations of families. They are burning homes, filled with memories and processions. They are burning corporations that give the unemployed hundreds of jobs every year - if the unemployed seek a job. They are burning their streets, their communities.
But what is this all for? I cannot know and there is a really wonderful chance I may never understand.
But to burn the streets of London?
In the charismatic and brilliantly filmed movie V for Vendetta, there is a build up of rebellion against a stern British Government. The people - V- take their understandable emotions out on the British Parliament, sending Big Ben's clock face raining down into the Thames with a cascade of glass and golden brick. Heart wrenching as it is, there is a moment of calm understanding. There is a tear shed for the history and the symbol that defined London universally, but still the slow, sad nod of understanding.
Not here.
Not in reality - far from fiction or cinema.
I do not sympathise with the rioters. How can I with what I have seen in the videos? This one taken by reporter Mark Stone from Sky News shows the attitude of those on the streets tonight : Clapham Junction Looting. Clapham Junction is a place I have been, stranded at 1am after a flight home from Norway. It is not far from Kingston, with a 10-15 minute train ride. These actions are getting closer to the place I call my second home.
But that girl - that girl! - "I'm getting my taxes back." She says. Getting your taxes back? We all pay them, we must. Taxes are what builds a nation. They are not fun, but without them their would be no roads, no public transportation, libraries and what little funding we have left for our schools. And girl, stealing from your local store is not hurting your government, it is hurting the corporations and those hired by the corporations. You may have just cost a relative or friend their only means of income, their job.
But still, they are burning.
Where is the rational thought?
What are they trying to say?
Why do they think this will help any cause?
This map - provided by google - shows the increasing amount of rioting in the entirety of the United Kingdom - London Riots. It seems destruction and being an idiot has become contagious in the county in the worst way. How must the others feel as they watch their neighbors burn their homes, still lacking a reason for their actions. No where could I find the price these rioters were asking for other than a free plasma screen television or a fur coat.
Other countries are suffering.
Other countries are starving.
And they are stealing from their neighbors - with sticky fingers and flames.
Flames in London. Reaching high and wide over these historic streets. Portrayed in movies with a romantic bite, seen in reality as a blissful attachment to the history that only books can share. It is hard to think of London burning with a sense of reality. For millions over the world it is a certain beacon, sought for to add a sense of wonder to their own life. It is the goal, the achievement.
For me, it is the goal and the achievement.
For me this event has numbed my face, and tightened my gut.
And I still sit here in a foggy disbelief - My London?
But it is, and there is no denying. I am attached to the news sites, the blogs and twitter waiting to hear of someplace I knew - like Clapham. Trying to find reality in a fight five hours ahead of my own time zone. Trapped in disbelief with a pond as the only obstacle. But I cannot deny the news. I cannot deny that London burns tonight. Look at the articles - London Rites: Violence Erupts for the Third Day - and see the fire. It makes me sick. How people feel this is the way to react. This is the way to be heard. Three days without order, but with the organized society hiding in their basements. Their own neighbors, and children acting as terrorists to their home. How can a world be filled with this type of being? Who raised these citizens into such monsters?
But there is another horrible thought - worse than this current reality, I cannot say.
What happens next?
There is obvious disorder. There was clearly a growing unease in the nation, something that growled deep in the guts of these rioters. Enough so that one little spark of confusion was enough to light the streets. The police are acting with heroics and bravery, but there seems to be little affirmative action from the government. "Where are the armies," I read over and over on twitter. But that is the question - where are the armies? Why are they not marching the streets, sending the disgruntled back to the beds they have surely burnt to ash.
And say they do make action to bring in the army, and all of the rioting cities are trapped in a nightly and mandatory curfew - what happens then?
It seems as though this adventure I have longed for, and fought for, might become a much larger adventure than intended. Only in the coming days, weeks maybe even month will tell of London's future - my future. But for now, I will keep trudging towards the goal - an education and the city.
Even though I am in New York, my thoughts are heavy in the streets of London. I am heartbroken that the quiet city, where I never once felt uncomfortable, is burning. I am sick to my stomach that I cannot be there with the neighbors to march out in their great peaceful numbers only to clean the streets of their communities - their home. But I am there in spirit and in prayer.
May tonight try its hardest to end with more peace than the last.
London: 2009, Photograph: Kristin Bergene
xx, kristin
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