don't_make_me_a_target tender_square my body was draped in a bright red varsity jacket, the colour of spilled blood. there was an active shooter situation and i was being ushered by officers out of an open area into somewhere safe. they advised me to remove the article of clothing, lest i become a victim or mistaken for the gunman himself. i entered a room with others in police uniform and sat down. one woman got up and said she couldn’t stay because she had learned her mother had died in samoa. their ancient code of behavior believes there is no “you” only “us,” and that your strength is determined by your family’s size. now the woman’s strength had dwindled; no wonder she was angry about it. a teacher came by and played a recording from a keyboard a student sat behind, and the instructor asked what i thought of the timing. “it seems out of sync to me…” i hesitated, not wanting to insult the student with the honest feedback. “if she can hear it,” the teacher said, motioning to me, “other people can hear it,” she told the student. 221203 what's it to you? who go blather from