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A long while ago, I was thinking about what my life might be like if I started living as a female. I wondered how others might react. Would I find the people in my life being supportive of my decision? Would I stand alone? These and similar questions constantly haunted me.
During that time, I had composed several songs; this is one of them. Actually, I envisioned this as more of a music video. I lost my original copy and had to rewrite it, adding bits here and there. For the most part, the three parts of this song at the end are as I had originally written them.
Stand Up
Copyright 2007 by Heather Rose Brown
The last few rays of light from the setting sun stretched across the mass of humanity crowded into the huge, open-air stadium. Each individual in the crowd was covered from head to toe with a loose gray jumpsuit, and matching gloves, hood, and boots. Each face was hidden behind a bone white mask that expressed, if anything, indifference. A soft murmuring ebbed and flowed through the crowd like a wave across an endless, mindless sea.
In the center of the stadium rose two rectangular, concrete towers. When the sun finally dipped below the horizon, white hot spotlights lit the tops of both towers and the taller one shuddered to life with a mechanical groan. Black metal doors on the top of the tower glinted in the harsh light as they slowly opened up, revealing a figure dressed in long gray robes and a mask darker than the shadow of a million lost souls.
The murmur quickly died and the figure at the top of the tower spoke in a low, rumbling voice with a frightening combination of menace and parental concern. "As many of you may have heard, a certain citizen has been speaking to others, encouraging unrest and indecency. Normally, such aberration is dealt with swiftly and humanely in our re-education centers."
"Unfortunately, those same centers that have for decades allowed society to live free from the threat of war had been called into question by this citizen. Many have begun questioning the wisdom of the Protectors." The figures head bowed for a moment and a soft sigh whispered out of the speakers set into the base of the tower.
"We, your Protectors, have your best interests at heart. That is why we have called you here tonight. We believe that only by seeing the results of this citizens aberration can you judge for yourselves and understand the wisdom of the ways that have allowed our society to survive. Tonight, we offer you the opportunity to decide the fate of your fellow citizen. After ze has spoken in hir own defense, you may stand to show you believe ze should be set free, as many rumors indicate is the will of the people. If you remain seated, you will show your support of your Protectors and the help we wish to provide to this wayward citizen."
The Protector turned and gestured to the lower tower, which rumbled to life. Gasps and shocked muttering rolled through the crowd as an unmasked citizen with long, dark brown hair billowing in the gentle breeze, rose through the opening doors. Folding hir arms tightly across hir chest, the Protector glared through hir mask at the citizen standing proud and defiant on the lower tower. "Citizen KT1164, do you have anything to say in your defense before your peers pass judgment on you?"
The citizen glared back, her lips tightening to a thin line of determination before speaking. "Yes. First, my name is Kat, not KT1164. Second, I am more than a citizen; I am a woman. Third, I have something to share in a form of communication nearly forgotten." She turned to the audience. "It's called a song. I hope you will think about the words and the meaning behind them before you make a decision."
The steel grating below her feet rang out across the silent audience as Kat began stomping her heel in a slow, steady beat. Her voice, faltering at first, grew in strength as she sung from her heart.
"Stand up. Be counted.
Don't be afraid to show your face.
Stand up. Be counted.
Be proud of who you are.
Stand up. Be counted.
Raise your head and take your place.
Stand up. Be counted."
Kat paused a moment, scanning the crowd for any reaction behind the sterile masks.
"Don't let me stand alone."
The Protector's fists trembled with barely controlled rage. "You dare ... you dare to bring up the old ways ... the ways that nearly destroyed not only humanity, but all life?" Several citizens in the front rows cringed as hir gaze swung away from Kat to them. "Very well. I shall do the same. Perhaps this is the true day of revelation."
Standing tall, the Protector threw back hir shoulders and began to sing. Ze did not thump hir foot as Kat had done. Ze didn't need to. Hir words matched rhythms with the growing heartbeats of all those caught by hir glare.
"Stand up. Be counted.
Go ahead and show your face.
Stand up. Be counted.
Reveal just what you are.
Stand up. Be counted.
Then hang your head in true disgrace.
Stand up. Be counted."
Ze paused, making sure ze had everyone's attention before ze continued.
"You will stand alone."
As the echo of the Protector's last word died, many of the onlookers started shifting in their seats and muted conversations began springing up. Eventually, one rather large citizen near the towers stood and removed both her mask and hood. She then nudged someone beside her with a foot, who stood, then removed his mask and hood as well. Several others near the two stood and removed their masks. Soon, the action was being copied by everyone until a sea of multicolored faces filled the stadium. With one voice, the open space thundered with song.
"We stand. Now count us.
We're not afraid to show our face.
We stand. Now count us.
We're proud of who we are.
We stand. Now count us.
We represent the human race.
We stand. Now count us."
Everyone turned and looked up at Kat.
"You'll never stand alone."
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Comments
Sweet indeed.
Let us all stand up and be counted. Let no one stand alone.
Hugs!
grover
May I join Grover and the others, HeatherRose ...
As I told you the other day, your latest stories are all different, and are becoming very important
Hugs from Aunt Holly
One of the most difficult things to give away is kindness.
It usually comes back to you.
Holly
*sniffle*
This is the kind of thing that makes me cry. The emotion, the love in this piece, reads so clearly, yet at the same time the emotions are less directed and more... goddess, I don't think I'm gonna make sense. This piece really struck me, and I'm still crying, and I'll leave it at that.
Perfect.
Surprisingly Powerful...
...I think, for such a stylized, symbolic situation. (I suppose that's a non-sequitur of sorts; public ritual often has the power to move onlookers as well as participants, so in that sense it's not surprising that the one in this story is capable of doing so.)
Anyway, very well done. Excellent description and narrative. And interesting, given the usual good vs evil format of this kind of tale (and its real-life prototype, the killing of Victor Jara in Chile in 1973), that the opposition here isn't blindly repressive or glorying in power. The Protector has reason for his position and, it would appear, can accept defeat here when he discovers that he and his side have in fact misread public sentiment.
Eric
In the Sixties
In the sixties and early seventies a group of us -- psuedo-intellectuals all -- armed with limited life experience and even more limited true education would get stoned and argue the extent of psychic power. That was in the day of circling the pentagon in an attempt to levitate it.
One of the arguments of that era was the future of public execution. It was predicted the accused of the future would be brought onto a playing field in a huge outdoor stadium to present their case. If they failed to persuade the crowd of the redeeming qualities the assembled thousands would "hate them to death" with the combined power of their psychic energy.
Thanks for bringing back memories of weak dope and strong wills. As we willingly allow our freedom to be ripped from us in the name of that very freedom, as we stand feebly by as the minority foists its opinion on the majority in matters of religious beliefs -- who will stand up?
Angela Rasch (Jill M I)
Angela Rasch (Jill M I)
Don't get me wrong ...
... I liked it. it reminded me of one of Ayn Rand's novels, especially "Anthem," "THX 1138," "1984," "A Brave New World," or communism in the old USSR and China, BUT I wish it had been longer and more involved.
I would have liked to have known Kat better, her experience that led her to be a subversive, the character of the people in that society, and the society itself. Once one knows the players and the motives -- what's going on -- the tension is a whole lot easier to understand.
Consider "Rollerball," where Jonathon E, after a series of terrible personal and eye-opening events, makes a decision in front of the world that possibly changes it -- and likely dooms him. To fully appreciate the final scene requires an enormous amount of exposition -- the length of the movie.
Be that as it may, I applaud your attempt to pack so much power into a short vignette. It was pretty much "just the facts, Ma'am," and considering the length, you did well with it.
Aardvark
"Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony."
Mahatma Gandhi
"Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony."
Mahatma Gandhi
Thank you!
I'd like to thank everyone for leaving such great comments. It really means a lot to me. I've actually been thinking of writing a prequel to this story, but probably not a sequel. This story has been inspired by a lot of stories and movies, including 1984, Farenheit 451, and Twelve Monkeys.
When I had originally written this song-turned-music-video, the antagonist was called The Accuser instead of Protector, and the protagonist, Kat, was simply known as The Defender. As I started rewriting, I decided The Accuser needed a better reason for putting The Defender on trial beside just being heartless and evil. That's how ze became a Protector.
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Heather Rose Brown
Author of Bobby's Rainy Day Adventure