Jennifer Prestholdt's Open Salon Blog

Cutting The Head Off The Snake

Wed, 30 May 2012 16:05:24 -0400

Charles G. Taylor with NPFL fighters during attack on Monrovia in 1990

The Special Court for Sierra Leone today sentenced former Liberian President Charles G. Taylor to 50 years in prison for his role in the Sierra Leonean conflict in the 1990s. Mr. Taylor helped fuel bloody conflicts between 1989 and 2003, not only in Liberia and Sierra Leone, but also throughout the sub-region of West Africa. For thousands - if not millions - of West Africans, May 30 will now mark the anniversary of accountability.

Eight years ago, in May 2004, I was in Sierra Leone to monitor the efforts that were being made to bring justice and reconciliation to that shattered country. In August of the previous year, Charles Taylor had resigned as President and exited Liberia for temporary asylum in Nigeria, the result of a deal brokered to end Liberia's brutal civil war. His infamous last words as he boarded the plane were, "God willing, I will be back." Almost everyone I talked to in Sierra Leone expressed fear of a return to chaos and war in the region if Mr. Taylor did not stand trial. As one person explained,

“We have a saying in West Africa. If you cut off the head of the snake, it is then only a rope. That’s why Taylor must go.”

Mr. Taylor was indicted on seventeen counts of war crimes and crimes against humanity by the Special Court for Sierra Leone (SCSL), a United Nations-sponsored "hybrid" war crimes tribunal based on international and Sierra Leonean law that had strong support (including $20 million appropriated by Congress) from the United States. The charges against Mr. Taylor included aiding and abetting the most serious of human rights abuses: killings, torture, mutilation, rape and other forms of sexual violence, sexual slavery, conscription of children, abduction and forced labor perpetuated by Sierra Leonean rebel forces that Mr. Taylor actively supported. Not to mention the part about fueling the conflict by trading arms for diamonds.

Special Court for Sierra Leone

Under construction in Freetown, Sierra Leone in May 2004

Yet, even after trials began at the Special Court for Sierra Leone, Mr. Taylor remained in Nigeria, immune from justice. Even worse, he appeared to continue to meddle in affairs in Liberia. Impunity for Mr. Taylor was an affront to the thousands of victims and their families. Fortunately, international pressure finally resulted in Mr. Taylor being taken into custody and brought to the SCSL for trial in 2006. Due to concerns about security and the potential destabilizing impact of holding the trial in West Africa, Mr. Taylor's trial was moved to The Netherlands to a chamber borrowed from the International Criminal Court. (Mr. Taylor complained bitterly about the food he was served.)

I interviewed Sierra Leonean staff members of the SCSL in The Netherlands about the Taylor case in 2008. Their estimates at the time about the length of the trial proved far too optimistic. The trial, which included testimony from more than 100 witnesses in addition to the defendant (who testified during 81 trial days), took twice as long as planned.

When I traveled to Liberia in February 2008, I asked people what they thought about the Taylor trial. Many Liberians did not seem to understand that Mr. Taylor was being tried for crimes committed in Sierra Leone, not Liberia. When I pointed out the distinction, most seemed not to care. In general, the Liberians I talked to just seemed relieved that he was behind bars - and that those bars were controlled by the international community. When I mentioned the analogy to cutting the head off a snake, I was uniformly met with wise nods of agreement.

The verdict of the Special Court for Sierra Leone in late April of this year marked a historic moment in international justice - the first conviction of a serving head of state on 11 counts of war crimes and crimes against humanity. The sentence today of 50 years (which was consistent with the previous sentences of Sierra Leonean commanders tried by the SCSL) essentially means that Mr. Taylor will spend the rest of his life in prison. The United Kingdom has volunteered to host.

Holding Charles Taylor accountable for the war crimes that he aided and abetted in Sierra Leone is important, but we must never forget the remaining impunity for the war crimes that he is responsible for in Liberia. Liberian civilians were subjected to massive human rights abuses, exercised with direct command responsibility by Mr. Taylor's National Patriotic Front of Liberia (NPFL) and, after his election in 1997, the Liberian security forces and paramilitary Anti-Terrorist Unit (ATU) . Of a pre-war Liberian population of 3 million, an estimated 250,000 were killed and 1.5 million displaced, with tens of thousands of refugees forced to flee West Africa for safety in the United States.

I spent three years working with the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Liberia, taking statements in the United States, United Kingdom and Buduburam Refugee Settlement in Ghana. The statement giver’s account of violence below is representative of the scope of the human rights abuses and level of brutality suffered by many Liberians:

At the initial stages of the war, I moved to Ninth Street in Sinkor, Monrovia… The children were outside cleaning the yard. Suddenly they ran inside and said that they saw armed men coming. Moments later, Taylor’s men busted in. One of them said, “This is the dog I’m looking for.” He told us to come outside. Myself, my ten children, and my wife obeyed.

The NPFL [commander] knew me…He had run against me in an election… before the war. He said to me, “You cheated me during the election, but now I am in power. I will teach you a lesson you will never forget.” He told his NPFL boys to take my eldest daughter into the house. She was 11
thirteen years old. They dragged her inside and dragged me in after her. [The commander] raped my daughter in front of me. My father (my daughter’s grandfather) was still in the house. He rushed at the NPFL men, trying to stop the rape. One of the men – I don’t know his name – shot and killed my [father] right there.

[The commander] then brought me and my daughter back outside. He said, “I’m going to show you what I came here for.” He beat the children with the butt of his gun. He made two of my sons, who were seventeen and twenty, drink dirty water with the urine of one of the NPFL men in it. When the twenty year old refused, he shot him in the foot. [The commander] stabbed my other son, who was eighteen, in the elbow with his bayonet.

He then began to beat my wife. He told her to lay on her back and stare at the sun. [The commander] said, “You will eat your husband’s heart very soon.” He took the daughter who had been raped. [The commander] held her and said, “I want you to know how you all will die.” He ordered one of his men to cut off my daughter’s head. She was beheaded in front of our eyes.

They dragged me over to lay beside her body. [The commander] said, “You will be the next one.” Then I heard heavy shooting. ECOMOG was coming. The NPFL scattered. Before [the commander] left, he made a remark. He said, “Anywhere in
Liberia I meet you or your family, I will kill you.”

Will it make a difference that the international community has now "cut off the head of the snake"? I do, in fact, think it will. Our international justice system is still in its infancy. As of yet, it is neither swift nor strong; neither peremptory nor comprehensive. But with the sentencing of Charles Taylor, not only can West Africans be confident in the knowledge that one individual who wrought destruction will not do so again, but we can all have hope that one day, as a matter of practice, all perpetrators of gross human rights abuses and war crimes will be held accountable.

In Small Places, Close To Home

Fri, 11 May 2012 17:05:43 -0400

Eleanor Roosevelt and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Photo courtesy of Franklin D. Roosevelt Library via Wikipedia Commons.

Eleanor Roosevelt once said,

"Where, after all, do universal human rights begin? In small places, close to home - so close and so small that they cannot be seen on any maps of the world."

She was a lady who knew what she was talking about. Eleanor Roosevelt was the chair of the UN Human Rights Commission and even wrote part of the text of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (adopted by the UN General Assembly on December 10, 1948). Eleanor Roosevelt was also the mother of six children.

Mothers are often the most vocal advocates for the rights of their children. This is true whether you are a mom trying to get your special needs child the services she deserves or trying to get your son out of arbitrary detention in Iran (like Shane Bauer's mom). Examples of mom/human rights advocates include the Mothers of the Disappeared in Argentina and the Mothers of Soldiers in Russia, but there are many more.

I personally have had the good fortune to meet and interview some heroic mothers, including the mothers involved with the organization ANFASEP in Ayacucho, Peru. These are mothers whose sons were disappeared many years ago during the long, violent conflict in Peru. For nearly 30 years, these women have been trying to find out what happened to their family members. They want to know where the remains of their loved ones are so that they can give them a proper burial, light a candle beside a white stone marker that proclaims, "This was someone who lived and was loved!" Instead, the bones of their sons remain in shallow, unmarked graves, far out on the high, windswept plains of the Peruvian altiplano.

One of the women we talked to had four family members who were disappeared in the 1980s. She wants to know where they are now and who killed them. "We're looking for justice," she said, "and we want to know the truth." As Mama Angelica Mendoza, the well-known President of ANFASEP, told us, "We'll never forget about all the killings. We'll fight to the end."

Mothers of the disappeared (ANFASEP) in Peru. Photo by author.

But more than just fighting for the rights of our own children, mothers have an important role to play in making the world a better place for all children. In saying this, I do not minimize the role played by fathers or grandparents or guardians or anyone charged with the responsibility of raising children. I do believe wholeheartedly, however, that mothers have a special role. It is our job to change the world, one kid at a time.

As Eleanor Roosevelt implied more than 60 years ago, the place where human rights begin is in your own home. People often think of "human rights" as a complicated, esoteric concept that applies more to those poor suffering souls in developing countries somewhere overseas than to us here in America. Others think that human rights are political - and partisan. Neither could be further from the truth. The concept of human rights is, in fact, very basic.

Human rights are the standards that allow all people - each and every one of the 7 billion of us on this planet- to live with dignity, freedom, equality, justice and peace.

Are these not the very principles that govern the way we want our children to be treated? Dignity. Freedom. Equality. Justice. Peace. In a nutshell, aren't these also the core values that every parent wants to instill in their children?

The secret to a better world is not only protecting our children from human rights abuses inflicted on them by others, but also by making them better citizens - of their community and of the world. Teaching through words and example about the importance of caring about others, judging right from wrong, and standing up against bullying or racist comments or sexist jokes. These are the human rights that are essential to the full development of each child as an individual, as well as to the community in which they live. This is the human rights work that changes the world.

Here are my three reasons to work for human rights. I'll be spending this Mother's Day with them - and the spirit of Eleanor Roosevelt.

Originally published on World Moms Blog

Afterword

Wed, 9 May 2012 13:05:53 -0400

For his senior project, my talented college friend Dave Saltzman wrote and illustrated a children's book. He did this during a time when he was being treated for cancer. Dave was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin's lymphoma during the fall of our senior year; he died a year and a half later, 11 days short of his 23rd birthday. Somehow, through it all, he managed to remain not just upbeat, but JOYFUL. He poured his energy, boundless even when his body was fighting cancer, into this book. The story didn't really grab me - it seemed too facile - but the intricately detailed, jewel-toned illustrations certainly did. Later, I realized that Dave was hoping that other kids with cancer would read this story and feel hope. But at the time, it just never occurred to me that Dave would actually die.

I remember walking through the gallery at Dave's senior art show, where the pages of his book were framed and displayed. The colorful illustrations seemed to refract off the white walls of the gallery, sparkling like an indoor rainbow. They were the sunlight of a bright young life, reflected through the jewel-toned pages of a children's book.

Dave's book The Jester Has Lost His Jingle was later published with an afterword by Maurice Sendak. The two met only briefly, when Sendak came to Yale to give a presentation. Dave hung around afterwards to get his autograph. He told me about it later, but another friend, Jackie, was there. She described the meeting like this: "The two spoke and laughed and I was just thrilled to be in the presence of two such delightful and talented souls. I've long been a huge fan of Sendak's work, but in my mind Dave always understood Sendak best."

As important as Where The Wild Things Are was to my childhood - so important that it was one of the few books I brought to with me to college - Maurice Sendak was most important to me because of these words:

Afterword

Our lives briefly touched. But I remember him among all the eager,talented young people I've bumped into along the way. I remember the face - the enthusiasm- the intelligence and unaffected extraordinariness of David Salzman. It is difficult to remember all the bright, promising youngsters. It is easy to remember David.

That he died before his 23rd birthday is a tragedy beyond words. That he managed during his harrowing ordeal to produce a picture book so brimming with promise and strength, so full of high spirits, sheer courage and humor is nothing short of a miracle. Even the rough patches that David the artist would surely have set right had he been given the time become all the more precious for the wild light they shed on his urgent, exploding talent.

David was a natural craftsman and storyteller. His passionate picture book is issued out of a passionate heart.

David's Jester soars with life.

- Maurice Sendak

Author-Artist, Where The Wild Things Are

Yesterday, after the news of Sendak's death was announced, another college friend had this to say, "I've been wondering what wonderful, amazing and wacko things we would have read in Dave's obituary, had he reached the ripe old age that Sendak did."

I'd like to think that these two talents are now together, not as the old and the young or the fame secured and the potential lost. I picture them both as equals, working together in the sunlight and collaborating on wonderful, amazing, wacko new projects.

Image Source

Maurice Sendak (1928-2012)

David Saltzman (1967-1990)

A Beastie Boy's Surprising Legacy

Sun, 6 May 2012 01:05:17 -0400

Image Source

I had a bad feeling when Adam Yauch was a no-show for the Beastie Boys' induction into the Rock n' Roll Hall o' Fame in April. So, while I was not surprised, I was saddened to learn of his death from cancer at the age of 47.

The Beastie Boys were not my favorite band growing up. (That would be The Police and the Beasties were not, after all, The Police.) They had an impact on my generation (X), however, that is worth acknowledging. Only a few years older than me, the Beastie Boys burst onto the national scene when I was still in high school. As a suburban girl in a small Southern city, whose first album was REO Speedwagon's Hi Infidelity and first concert was the J. Geils Band (with Hall & Oates!), I found the Beastie Boys to be something of a breath of fresh air. For me, they symbolized New York and the urban, East Coast, post-racial America that I had yet to experience.

I did see the Beastie Boys once, when they toured with Madonna in 1985 on the Virgin Tour, but that was purely by accident since I was going for Madonna and didn't even know who was opening. Quite honestly, I couldn't really tell the Beastie Boys apart. They all had dark hair and, what with the VW gold chains and sunglasses and baseball caps and all, they weren't that distinguishable. They were named either "Mike" or "Adam", so take your pick. Sure, they had nicknames - "MCA" was Adam Yauch and "Ad-Rock" was Adam Horovitz - but unlike Sting and The Police, it didn't really matter too much to me.

Image Source

"Enough of this hip hop! Bring on the Material Girl!" is what I mostly remember thinking during their set.

License to Ill came out in 1986. I didn't own it on cassette or LP but plenty of people at my college must have, because (You Gotta) Fight for Your Right (to Party) was de rigueur for dorm room parties. It was part of the soundtrack of my early college social life, right along with UB40's Red, Red Wine and Bon Jovi's Livin' on a Prayer. I can still close my eyes and flashback through the entire MTV video, complete with the nerds saying, "We'll invite all our friends and have soda and pie!" and "I hope no bad people show up!" The exuberant "KICK IT!" has, in hindsight, never really left me.

Never really what you could call a fan, I pretty much lost interest in the Beastie Boys after License to Ill. Frankly, pulling stunts like having girls dancing around in cages at their concerts didn't help much.

I came back to the Beasties in the mid-1990s. But not really because of their music.

Much to my surprise, Beastie Boy Adam Yauch (MCA, a.k.a. Nathanial Hörnblowér) had become a human rights activist. He started a non-profit called the Milarepa Fund in 1994 to support Tibetan independence from China. Royalties from the Beastie Boys' 1994 songs Shambala and Bodhisattva Vow (from the Ill Communication album) were dedicated to the Milarepa Fund and the fight for freedom for Tibet. They sponsored an information tent on Tibetan human rights at Lollapalooza and performed concerts to raise money for the cause. In 1996, Yauch organized the Tibetan Freedom Concert. The largest benefit concert in the US since 1985's Live Aid, it attracted 100,000 people and raise more than $800,000. Additional Tibetan Freedom Concerts were held on four continents in 1999.

It turns out that the Beastie Boys had principles and they were not afraid to use them. Shortly after the bombings at US Embassies in Kenya and Tanzania, Adam Yauch used his time at the microphone at the 1998 MTV Music Awards ceremony to talk about stereotyping Muslims as terrorists. "It's kind of a rare opportunity that we get to speak to this many people at once," he said. "So, if you guys will forgive me I just want to speak my mind for a while." He went on - prophetically, it seems now - to speak about the U.S. government's military aggression in the Middle East and the growing climate of racism towards Muslims and Arabic people. "The United States has to start respecting people from the Middle East in order to find a solution to the problem that's been building up over many years.

Another issue that the Beastie Boys took on directly was the rights of women. They've been wrapping against domestic violence (“Why you got to treat your girl like that?”) at least since Paul’s Boutique. When it was announced that Adam Yauch had died, my friends on Twitter lit up the night with lyrics like “I’m gonna say a little something that’s long overdue/The disrespect of women has got to be through/ To all our mothers and our sisters and our wives and friends/ I want to offer my love and respect to the end” (from Sure Shot). Song For The Man was written after Adam Horovitz observed the overt sexism - and blatant harassment of a woman - by a couple of guys on a train. If more men spoke out like the Beasties, the world would be a better place.

At the 1999 MTV Video Music Awards, when the Beastie Boys won the award for Best Hip Hop Video for Intergalactic, Adam Horovitz spoke about the problem of sexual assaults and rapes at Woodstock 99. He made the pitch for bands and concert venues to provide more security to better protect women.

The Beastie Boys continued their political activism into the 2000s. After the September 11, 2001 attacks, for example, they organized and headlined the New Yorkers Against Violence Concert in October 2001. The concert proceeds went to the New York Women's Foundation Disaster Relief Fund and the New York Association for New Americans.

Adam Yauch with his daughter at an Amnesty International Event

Image Source

I've been thinking about the life of Adam Yauch, which was far too short, and have come to realize that the Beastie Boys not only helped define the formative experiences of my generation but they are also representative of many of the traits of Generation X. Wikipedia has this to say about us: "When compared with previous generations, Generation X represents a more heterogeneous generation, exhibiting great variety of diversity in such aspects as race, class, religion, ethnicity, and sexual orientation." The Beasties, in freely crossing music boundaries between punk and hip hop and alternative, certainly are illustrative of this heterogeneity and diversity.

But I think that another of our generational traits is the ability to change. (I love this quote from Wikipedia: "Change is more the rule for the people of Generation X than the exception.^{[citation needed]")}The Beastie Boys were no different from many of us who were, in our youth, racist, sexist, and/or homophobic dorks. America was just a less tolerant place when we were growing up in the 70s and 80s. Not that that is an excuse for the many of us who stayed silent and went along with the crowd rather than speaking up for what was right.

Like the Beasties, however, most of us Gen Xers have grown up and figured out that our actions - and our inactions - have consequences. As Adam Yauch once pointed out, "Every one of us affects the world constantly through our actions." To realize this and not take advantage of the chance to change would be a mistake. Like Adam Yauch and the Beasties, we should use every opportunity to take action for good.

Most of the Gen Xers I know will, like the Beastie Boys, freely acknowledge our past immaturity, our arrogance and stupidity, and accept it without embarassment. Most of us embrace change as the only way forward, even though it sometimes means also accepting criticism. Adam Horovitz has a great quote that pretty much sums up this point:

"... (Y)ou might say that the Beastie Boy 'Fight For Your Right to Party' guy is a hypocrite. Well, maybe; but in this f***ed up world all you can hope for is change, and I'd rather be a hypocrite to you than a zombie forever."

That's a pretty good lesson for anyone, regardless of what generation you come from.

The other thing that I think that Adam Yauch and the Beasties symbolize for my generation is the ability to age with nimble good humor and some modicum of coolness. To acknowledge we are aging, to joke about it, but to still be self-confident enough to hang with the young 'uns - this, I see as a generational shift. (By the way, there is nothing in the definition of Generation X on Wikipedia that mentions this trait.) Maybe this is just another aspect of our ability to change, but the first minute or so of this video of the Beasties playing POW and Shambala live will give you an idea of what I'm talking about:

I'm sorry that Adam Yauch, a.k.a.MCA, a.k.a. Nathaniel Hornblower, won't be continuing this Gen X journey with the rest of us. I hope he knows that he left a legacy here on Earth that is bigger than his music. And wherever his soul resides now, I hope that Adam Yauch is still kickin' it.

Children of the Rainbow v. Anders Breivik and Charles Taylor

Thu, 26 Apr 2012 13:04:31 -0400

Folksinger Lillebjørn Nilsen and a crowd of 40,000 sing Barn av regnbuen (Children of the Rainbow) at the trial of Anders Behring Breivik in Oslo

Source NRK

I thought I would write about the Charles Taylor verdict today. The verdict by the Special Court for Sierra Leone marks an historic moment in international justice - the first conviction of a serving head of state for war crimes and crimes against humanity. I thought today would be a day to write about the importance of holding Charles Taylor accountable for the war crimes that he aided and abetted in Sierra Leone, but also about the remaining impunity for the war crimes he was responsible for in Liberia. I've been spent time in both Sierra Leone and Liberia, so I've seen firsthand the horrific impact that Charles Taylor and his National Patriotic Liberation Front have had on the people in those countries. I've followed this trial at the Special Court for Sierra Leone - and waited for this verdict - for years.

But I found myself this morning more powerfully impacted by events surrounding another trial, in another country where I have spent time. I speak Norwegian, so have been following the Norwegian media coverage of the trial of Anders Behring Breivik in Norway. Today, that coverage included an allsang with the well-loved Norwegian folksinger Lillebjørn Nilsen. In a chilly spring rain in Oslo, a crowd of more than 40,000 people joined Mr. Nilsen in singing Barn av regnbuen.

Apparently, this is a song that Mr. Breivik detests. He testified recently that this song, with its concept of living together in a multicultural Norway (“sammen vi skal lever“) was brainwashing children into supporting immigrants. Norwegians throughout the country sang it today as a kind of protest.

This is a song that I learned many years ago. It is actually a Pete Seeger song called My Rainbow Race, translated into Norwegian by Lillebjørn Nilsen. My rough translation follows (with apologies for inaccuracies).I use the translated version as there are a lot of aspects that make this song feel particularly Norwegian. The references to nature, for example, and the disdain for "plastic and synthetic food".

Written during the Vietnam era, the song has an obvious anti-war theme. The lyrics of the song, however, seem especially fitting on this day. "Some steal from the young, who are sent out to fight..." could well apply to Charles Taylor, whose recruitment of child soldiers stole the lives of thousands in West Africa. "Some steal from the many, who will come after us." Anders Behring Breivik's acts of violence stole not only the future of dozens of young people, but the innocence of a peaceful nation.

I won't write about Charles Taylor today. Neither will I write about Anders Behring Breivik. Instead, I will write today about the voices raised throughout our world - in celebration of justice and in a call for peace in the face of hatred. Because today I remembered that Lillebjørn Nilsen - and Pete Seeger - were right. We need justice for the Charles Taylors and Anders Behring Breiviks of the world, but we also need to share our hope for the rest of us.

Si det til alle barna!
Og si det til hver far og mor.
Ennå har vi en sjanse
til å dele et håp på jord.

Say it to all the children!
And tell every father and mother.
We still have a chance
to share our hope for this world.

Barn av regnbuen

En himmel full av stjerner.

Blått hav så langt du ser.
En jord der blomster gror.
Kan du ønske mer ?
Sammen skal vi leve
hver søster og hver bror.
Små barn av regnbuen
og en frodig jord.

Noen tror det ikke nytter.
Andre kaster tiden bort med prat.
Noen tror at vi kan leve av
plast og syntetisk mat.
Og noen stjeler fra de unge
som blir sendt ut for å sloss
Noen stjeler fra de mange
som kommer etter oss.

Refreng:

Si det til alle barna!

Og si det til hver far og mor:

Ennå har vi en sjanse

til å dele et håp på jord.

Refreng:

Si det til alle barna!

Og si det til hver far og mor:

Ennå har vi en sjanse

til å dele et håp på jord.

Children of the Rainbow

A sky full of stars.

Blue sea as far as you can see.

A land where flowers grow.

Could you want more?

Together we will live

every sister and every brother.

Small children of the rainbow

and a flourishing world.

Some believe there is no point.

Others throw their time away with idle talk.

Some believe that we can live on

plastic and synthetic foods.

And some steal from the young,

who are sent out to fight.

Some steal from the many

who will come after us.

Refrain:

Say it to all the children!

And tell every father and mother.

We still have a chance

to share our hope for this world.

Refrain:

Say it to all the children!

And tell every father and mother.

We still have a chance

to share our hope for this world.

One blue sky above us,
One ocean lapping all our shores,
One Earth so green and round,
Who could ask for more?
And because I love you,
I’ll give it one more try.
To show my Rainbow Race
It’s too soon to die. Some folks want to be like an ostrich,
Bury their heads in the sand.
Some hope that plastic dreams
Can unclench all those greedy hands.
Some hope to take the easy way,
Poisons, bombs, they think we need ‘em.
Don’t you know you can’t kill all the unbelievers?
There’s no shortcut to freedom.

CHORUS

Go tell, go tell all----- the little children.

Tell all their mothers and fathers, too --

Now’s our last chance to learn to share

What’s been given to me and you.

CHORUS

Go tell, go tell all----- the little children.

Tell all their mothers and fathers, too --

Now’s our last chance to learn to share

What’s been given to me and you.