Did you ever fall for some version of the song “Stand by me!”, first sung by Ben E. King?
When the night has come, and the way is dark,
And that moon is the only light you see.
No I won’t be afraid, no I-I-I won’t be afraid
Just as long as the people come and stand by me.
Darlin’ darlin’ stand by me, ooh stand by me
Oh stand
Stand stand by me
C’mon stand by me stand by me.
Recently I sat in a town square in a small coastal Mexican village at night where, the local band, Herzon, was singing this song. Immediately I felt a surge of some strong emotion. I don’t know what it was though I’m usually pretty good at naming the blooms of neuro-electrical currents that we identify as combinations of sensations, thoughts/memories, neurochemical discharges etc. This time it seemed too complex.
Mexico was once a vast land that stretched through Washington, Oregon, Idaho and parts of Montana and Wyoming south through Texas all the way to what is now Belize and Guatamala.
From a series of internal and external treacheries, territory and people were lost–grabbed, shot, sold, decieved, traded. I wander as the young millenial croons, does he implore salve for intergenerational betrayal?
How do we transmit solidarity intergenerationally, selecting for closeness instead of for detachment?
With old songs come old feelings. Nostalgia tells us this time has gone by and maybe we want some of it back. Usually not all of it. I hear the pleading in his voice. It is more than one generation old. Just as this song has already been sung by countless others. Longing is immortal and transnational. Yet in cities and villages on both sides of the current border people sing the same song, pleading for union of some sort. Not knowing what it should be, just wanting some feeling of connection.
If the sky that we look upon
Well should tumble and fall
And the mountains should crumble to the sea
I won’t cry, I won’t cry, no I won’t shed a tear
Just as long as you stand, stand by me
Mountains are crumbling all the time and borders shift like sand over time,
but one thing rises in the face of change: the human voice singing to gather those who are willing to press together in love. Stand by me, darling.
Leaves of Love art by Judy Rintoul and Jeffrey Muhr (see prior blog post)
