“The Florida criminal justice system has sent two clear messages today. One is that if women who are victims of domestic violence try to protect themselves, the Stand Your Ground law will not apply to them…the second is that if you are Black, the system will treat you differently.” -– Florida Congresswoman Corinne Brown
“I tell everybody: Reach for heaven, and if you get the stars, you’re doing pretty good. That’s exactly what I intend to do.” -– Marissa Alexander
Under sky massaged by sun, from a comfortable chair, I watch
the rain stroke a myrtle tree. Naked
rain, my father says. Naked,
my mother says, because the rain
is unashamed to streak
brassy sky. Across every horizon, we,
like rain, dream to be ourselves – star
remnant, euphoric tears, full-bellied shine along a greater light.
In this world, we have but one sky – a holster of glass
and limited grounds, where a gunshot’s
meaning hinges
on who takes the stand.
Recall: this teen boy – and this teen boy – and this teen boy delivered
to sky
too soon. Recall:
a woman caring for her young, caring
for herself, and in a warning
shot, parceled to prison. The guilty shot reached not any man but saved
the skin of her recent birthed belly: Marissa who fired not against
humanity but against oppression, who believed women too
could stand on just ground. Marissa, you say, you continue
to believe – we are still a nation – hopefully
in our hearts…Today I dream, Marissa, that you will emerge
to watch
the rain naked under a Florida sun, hold
in your hands children able to battle bullets
in every skin as we praise unshackled
sky, prayers liberated as rain, a day
when women will not need to be swallowed
by the earth, swallowed by the rain, when we
will not be swallowed
by a bullet, swallowed
by jury. Survival
is more than instinct – it is soul
prerogative – a silver
spoon in a girl’s underwear.
Praise: a day
when we need not
think of survival – when we just
live, a day without warning, a day
when each breath is celebration, a day
when the ground, the rain, the sky, and we meet – brazen
& brilliant.
I remember looking out my car window, I am close to eight or nine– old enough to be bored as my mom is lecturing us on something I’ve tuned out. I remember chasing raindrops with my eyes downward, urging one to quicken and win the imaginary race. As we drove, stars chased us, twinkling through the drops on the glass, high above red car lights on the road. Although I could hear my mom speak, I was so focused on my star-reflecting droplet, I forgot to learn. Through the poem’s zigzagging structure, my eyes repeated that movement, following the trail of words, reminding me of this simple memory. The moment held no significance prior to this analysis, but upon coming across Purvi Shah’s poem, I gained a sudden gratitude for my mother’s attempt to educate me in those small moments. When i reached line 27, “in your hands children able to battle bullets”, suddenly I saw my own mother relfected in the poem, wishing to protect and prepare me for the potential rainstorms in my life.
The mention of rain is purposeful- it is a reference to the humid climate of Flordia, the home of Marrisa Alexander- the domestic abuse survior who’s personal rainstorm rocked the nation and brought awareness to the racial and sexist inequality in the justice system still faced by millons today. In real life, rainfall may just be a distraction on a long drive, or a comforting noise to fall asleep to. In the poem, it represents the harsh obstacles and unfair circumstances that arise, often leaving destruction in the wake. Just as rain can lead to floods, and hardships disrupt the balance of our lives, rain is also a natural part of growth and considered an indicator of “change and transformation due to its ability to bring about new life. But the transition from the two contrasting ideals is a hard one to capture, hence why this poem is so phenomenally moving.
Repeatedly, we are told to ignore the clouds, and “shoot for the sky.” Marrisa did just that, both literally, and figuratively. The use of firearm terminoligy in the title -“shoot”- is a allusion to the single shot fired upward, done in self defense after her estranged husband with a recorded history of violence, attempted to kill her. Again we see reference to this event with the image of the “holster” (9). She fired a single warning shot and sought self-defense immunity under Florida’s stand-your-ground law. She “swallowed by rain”(31), and “swallowed by jury”(33), was denied and sentenced to a minimum of twenty years in prison. Outrage ensued once the situation was repeated, this time with “this teen boy – and this teen boy – and this teen boy delivered to sky” (13), when George Zimmerman killed Trayvon Martin & wanted to invoke a stand your ground defense that was denied to Marissa. Her case was later overturned after public outrage but latter threated to be reinstated with an additional 60 years added. Marissa Alexander was finally released on January 27, 2017. Purvi’s poem came out a month later.
The poem shines light on the meeting point between adversity and growth that Marissa now embodies as she begins to reclaim her life. From a statement with Flordia-Time Union Marrissa stated her “short-term goals are to go back to school” as a mother of three while balancing a job for stability. Since then, she has founded the Marissa Alexander Project to advocate for other survivors of violence who are criminalized for survival. The interplay of rain and growth in Purvi Shah’s poem mirrors the transformation experienced by individuals like Alexander, who, despite facing tremendous storms, found the strength to rebuild and better her life along the lifes of others. Just as the rain in the poem is both an obstacle and a means of renewal, Alexander’s journey is a transformation, from victim to advocator, that Purvi praises as “brazen & brilliant”
