Blended Reality : Sad Awakening by JLR This Sentence Starts the Story contest entry |
Sometimes I feel like...a person who has suddenly awakened from a mystical long sleep.As I open my eyes to this present state of senseless police victimization and misuse of force, followed by the out-of-control violent protests and those raging protesters coming from who knows where, I wonder what has happened, how have we retrograded so far in race relations. These angry mobs, whose destructive behavior ruins the health and welfare of their very own neighbors and businesses that will likely not be able to recover, seem to come from another planet, with no clear, educated awareness of the cost for the advancements they are destroying. It seems like it was just yesterday that I watched with a deep and compelling sense of hope, as Dr. Martin Luther King delivered a speech to a massive group of civil rights marchers gathered around the Lincoln Memorial in Washington DC on August 28, 1963. Thirteen years old and a white kid, growing up in a conservative, Washington State community as I heard and saw a man deliver a clear and concise message was a transformative time for me. His speech is still, to this date, one of the most venerable addresses of any leader in my lifetime. His dream of equality, opportunity, eradication of injustice was supported with visions, that blacks and whites could sit down and talk across the table, and speak honestly and openly about what it is like to be in my shoes. His dream encompassed the words of the preamble to the Constitution of the United States, hoping that one day America would rise and live out the true meaning of its creed "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal." His dream included the significant towns of the South and those of the Northern inner cities. Dr. Martin Luther King was dreaming that one day, these cities would allow all children, regardless of color, to live in a nation where they would not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. He dreamed that "in states like Alabama, with its vicious racists' politicians, one day, you could see little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers." Today, in the here and now the politicians who order police departments to stand down, while the destruction of police stations, city halls of governance, sacred monuments, and stores ransacked and depleted of their inventory, then burned to the ground, should be openly ashamed and voted out of office. Dr. King, I believe, would be saying No! This is not how to do it. He warned in his speech "not to drink from the cup of hatred, not to be guilty of wrongdoings." He preached to protest on the high plane of dignity and discipline. Remembering the words, as if I heard them today, "We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. We must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force." One line in his speech has lingered in my mind now for fifty-seven years, "We cannot walk alone." Yet, I see that we have such a great division in our country. This division creates a deep separation because we label everything--everyone based on color. Every person, every political party, and during the election cycle, every state color labeled. Therefore, we are herded by the system to walk more and more in isolation; to walk alone more and more. Sadly, I feel I am getting too old to see a change in our American landscape, not because I have given up on Dr. Kings' dream of a better America. What I fear is, we have so many polarized groups, where no lives matter, no opinions matter, no change matters, if things do not meet "their expectations." These independent groups, who call themselves protestors even though they use weapons of bricks, gasoline, fists, and feet, and some carry guns and knives, iron pipes, and acid laden bottles defacing property, maiming innocent people, plundering, burning and even killing. More sadly, the media, as a twenty-four-hour, greedy money machine will do everything they can to replay, hour upon hour every agonizing angle of the horrific scenes on all sides of the issue to do one thing, keep people glued to their stations so they can garner more advertising dollars. Sometimes, I feel like you just need to follow the money! It takes an overwhelming amount of dollars to fuel the riots, rebuild destroyed businesses, to conduct funerals for all those needlessly killed, regardless of color! It takes money for politicians to grab more funding for this and that program not because they think they work, but because they will catch more votes, to stay in office and stay in power and control the taxpayer's purse. Sometimes I feel like...a person who would be better off going into some mystical long sleep.
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JLR
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