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Reflections: January 2009

My Last Inner Chains are Falling

Our world is a neighborhood and yet we have not had the ethical commitment to make it a brotherhood.” Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Martin Luther King, Jr. day has been significant in my life from the time I had memory.  My father, who will be 81 this year, was deeply involved in the Civil Rights movement.  He was president of the Albuquerque branch of the NAACP, he was at the March on Washington, and he helped to get laws passed in the 50’s that allowed Black folk to own property in the state of New Mexico. As a person who was invested in the movement, he taught me about the key players in that movement from a very early age.  I can’t remember a February without being glued to “Eyes on the Prize,” and I can’t recall a  King day at home without the “I Have a Dream” speech.

In college I didn’t do anything special on King Day.  By that time I was more in line with the ideas of Malcolm X and the Black Panthers.  At least that’s what I thought.  Well, I didn’t really think, it was more what I had been led to believe.  I have come to know, however, that the messages of our leaders and movements were about the same things: equality, economic equality, and human rights.  And I am not writing this to get on a soap box, I am writing this because I have realized during these last few years, that somehow many of us have been missing the message on the tip of Dr. King’s tongue when he died.  Perhaps it is the very message he died for.  While Dr. King is frozen in time as a Civil Rights icon, he was outspoken about the war in Vietnam, he was clear about the abuses of power that the United States was involved in at home and abroad, he spoke boldly about poverty and worker’s rights and he was encouraging folks to challenge the class structure of the United States. Dr. King dreamt, yes, he did.  He reinvented himself too.  He took on whatever issues he felt were important. He struggled, he was criticized, he was attacked, and he was—by all accounts—exhausted, but he kept going.  I cried when I saw footage of Dr King walking in a housing march in Chicago.  He was both strong and vulnerable. And in Memphis, he was determined to shed light on those workers who were fighting their cause in the shadows.  And that leads me into tomorrow.  Into the Presidential inauguration of Mr. Barack Hussein Obama.  As I walked in the snow with my three year old today, I kept hearing the words of my friend, Sasha Dees.  “You realize that for your kids having a Black president will be something they take for granted.   It will be normal for them.”  I think of this three year old and her 20 month old sister who when shown a picture of Barack Obama say “Obama.”  I think of how they recognize his voice when they hear it on the radio.  Serene says,  “Malia and Sasha should come over to play.”  My children believe that anything is possible.  All children should believe this, but all children do not believe this and most children have never had the luxury of this belief. 

Frantz Fanon wrote that one of the most devastating things about colonization is that it extends to the imaginations of the colonized (insert oppressed) people.   In my own life, I never believed that there would be a Black president.  And if there were going to be one, I was sure that he would in no way be connected to real issues.  In fact, I had pretty much given up on politics all together no matter the color of the politician.  So Obama-- this Obama family, their story, their legacy, the love between them completely caught me off guard.  Affluent, and humane. Steeped in Black culture and inclusive.  Hip and classy.  Spiritual and practical. Huh? This is possible? This victory means things to me on many different levels, and I am still processing it.  Many many people set the stage for Barack Obama to shine on.  Shine on First Family.  And for my parents who had to use segregated bathrooms and go to segregated schools and fight battles in the courts to be given their due, this victory means something else. I can only imagine the weight of some of the tears that my mother shed on November 4th. Our tears were both weighted and buoyant.  And Dr. King?  Who could imagine what this moment might have meant to him.

We don’t know what President Obama will do.  We need to celebrate and then we need to get down to business.  The business of being better than we were yesterday, the business of raising our families in conscious, loving ways, the business of writing congress people and senators and joining organizations to make sure that this country starts to go in the direction we want to see it go in.  We are all going to have to roll up our sleeves. 

Change.  Yes, I can say, I have changed.  This victory has changed me.  I am full of emotion.  I am full of hope. I feel emboldened. I am doing the work and I will continue to do it.  And I will dream.  My dreams no longer wear even a trace of their old shackles. 

One love,

Ekere





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