Recently Manny and Patricia Oliver paid a visit to Sarasota, driving the retrofitted yellow school bus in which they’ve circled the country since their 17-year-old son, Joaquin, was killed in the mass school shooting in Parkland, Florida, nearly seven years ago.
They were here to speak at the annual vigil of remembrance for victims of gun violence hosted by the Sarasota chapter of Brady Against Gun Violence, now in its 11th year.
For the Olivers, it was but the next stop on a journey that has no end.
“On the day we lost Joaquin, Joaquin did not lose his parents,” said the silver-bearded Manny Oliver, a painter and visual artist. “We will always be Joaquin’s Mom and Dad. Once you realize you are still here, it motivates you. “
‘Change the Ref’
After their son failed to return home from Marjorie Stoneman Douglas High School on Valentine’s Day 2018, the Olivers founded the gun reform group “Change the Ref,” which uses “disruptive” art and nonviolent creative confrontation to empower young leaders – and advocate for the eradication of the gun violence epidemic – by confronting elected officials supported by the National Rifle Association and gun manufacturers.
(The name was inspired by the basketball-loving Joaquin, who implored his father to do something about blatantly unfair referees on the court.)
The Olivers have spoken multiple times before Congress; to somber gatherings of concerned community members – like those gathered at the First Congregational UCC church here; and to the U.S. president in the Oval Office.
Manny has been arrested twice – for demonstrating in Congress and for unfurling a banner atop a crane. Patricia, a slender, soft-spoken woman with a quiet demeanor, has stuck her foot in the door of the office of a congressman trying desperately to get her to go away.
Since the day their lives changed forever, they have watched four sets of elected officials pass through Congress with, Manny sighed, “no action” taken. And yet – in anticipation of a new administration’s likely push to remove even more firearm restrictions – the Olivers continue racking up the miles.
As Patricia explained: “We cannot keep talking to the same choir over and over again. When you work with one another, you can bring more people into the fold.”
Their efforts to expand that fold are many and atypical. Change the Ref has launched more than a half-dozen initiatives, many inspired by Manny’s gift for the creative and slightly subversive.
He’s written and performed a one-man play called “Guac: My Son, My Hero,” a one-man social justice theatre piece that tells his own story of navigating the year following Joaquin’s death. (“Guac” was Joaquin’s nickname.)
The “Unfinished Votes” campaign brought life-sized cardboard cut-outs of Joaquin to more than a dozen Major League baseball parks, offering tools for voter registration and recruiting new voters to the cause.
A “Museum of Incomplete” gathers unfinished ideas, ambitions, goals, dreams and artifacts from gun violence victims in the form of songs, drawings, text messages and more, to honor their creative minds and spirits.
“#Posts into Letters” has turned social media posts written by gun violence victims into letters – written in their own handwriting – which are sent to Congress.
A nationwide art project called “Walls of Demand” features powerful and sometimes disturbing graphic art images on huge murals, triggering viewers to think about gun violence and the need for change and encouraging them to share their own reactions by adding to the display.
A unique collection of postcards known as “Shame Cards” feature states and cities whose names have become synonymous with the notorious mass shootings that have taken place there. Advocates are encouraged to send the cards to their local and state representatives, along with words of disparagement about the lack of gun laws that created the indelible connections.
A “Corporate Mark” project grants a certified “Gun Safety” mark to any corporation that agrees to a list of gun safety measures, from comprehensive background checks for all gun sales to safe storage for all firearms.
Change The Ref’s latest initiative – “The Shotline” – came about, Manny said, as a result of “six years of our voices being ignored” by politicians. Tapping into the technology of artificial intelligence, they resurrected Joaquin’s voice and those of other children who died from firearms using past audio recordings and turned them into present-day phone messages demanding action.
Anyone can send the wrenching recordings to their representatives to turn up the heat and force a more visceral reaction. If that makes lawmakers “uncomfortable,” Manny said, so much the better.
A personal reckoning
Hearing her son’s voice again through AI was, for Patricia, both a poignant and a gut-wrenching experience. For a brief moment, she simply longed to hear him say, “Hola, mommy.”
“But,” she added, eyes brimming, “it is less painful to me than losing Joaquin.”
Manny encouraged those gathered at the vigil to refuse to give in to discouragement and called on them to consider a personal reckoning.
“I have been practicing this for seven years, I know what I’m doing,” he said. “I invite you to know what you’re doing. It is impossible to turn grief into purpose. But it is possible to give a little purpose to our grief.”
What might that be for you?
A suggestion came from Jennifer Singer, rabbi emerita of Congregation Kol HaNeshama, who shared a story by the late Israeli writer and intellectual Amos Oz, one of the first Israelis to advocate a two-state solution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.
In Sweden in 2006, Oz launched what he called “The Order of the Teaspoon,” based on his book, “How to Cure a Fanatic,” which listed three possible responses to calamity or conflagration – for example, a fire.
“1. Run away . . . and let those who cannot run, burn,” Oz wrote. “2. Write a very angry letter to the editor of your paper demanding the responsible people be removed from office with disgrace. Or, for that matter, launch a demonstration.”
And then there was the third option:
“Bring a bucket of water and throw it on the fire and, if you don’t have a bucket, bring a glass, and if you don’t have a glass, use a teaspoon, everyone has a teaspoon. And yes, I know a teaspoon is little and the fire is huge, but there are millions of us and each one of us has a teaspoon.”
Ever since Oz shared those words, Swedes and other Europeans have taken to wearing a miniature teaspoon on their lapel or around their neck, to denote membership in the order and as a reminder of their commitment to spreading the word and action.
About half the cost of the tiny spoons they wear goes to the manufacturer; the other half goes toward grants to projects and people who uphold the spirit of the order.
Carol Rescigno, president of the Sarasota Brady chapter, said there were perhaps 80 to 100 people at the recent vigil, one of the largest gatherings the group has ever assembled.
According to the internet, there are 768 teaspoons in a gallon and five gallons in the average bucket of water. I’ve never been good at math, but I know this: That’s a lot of missing teaspoons.
Contact Carrie Seidman at carrie.seidman@gmail.com or 505-238-0392.