Nightmare

There are some who say that if Martin Luther King, Jr. could see the world we live in today, he'd be rolling over in his grave.

And though I don't entirely understand that phrase, really, I'd likely go on to tell them that "hello, our president is black, all of our racial issues are solved."

What? You mean they're not? Well let's give him a peace prize anyway.

The thing is that I don't think racial issues in this country are solved and I don't think we're all horrible people because they aren't. It's just a deep and rooted issue of hate and ways of life or at least thinking that doesn't go away overnight or in a generation and it's no one's fault except for everyone's fault because no one is perfect, meaning all people have sinned so even *if* it was a sin to have a different skin color or have less money or be born of a slave heritage let he who is without sin cast that first stone.

Well, James Earl Ray did, theoretically, throw a stone-- but literally a bullet-- and it really got us nowhere. So now that we've tested that plan of action, can we stop with the stereotyping and the fear and the entitlement and the bitterness and the anger and the "colorblindness," please? If it was only that simple, right?

Well, for me, it was that simple. For seven years the moral of the Martin Luther King, Jr. story was that we're all created with equal value, we all matter, we all have rights that once were not guaranteed for all Americans but should have been all along, so always fight for that right and believe that because MLK, Jr. could make a difference in this world, so can you. Rich or poor, black or white, male or female, you have the capacity to love your enemy and do what's right and create a society of compassion and understanding.

Then I left the walls of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Interdistrict Elementary Magnet School and found out that to the real world all of that was a bunch of idealistic crap (excuse my french).

Except for that I believe it is true and possible. And so do the little minds that shuffle those halls day in and day out singing a song about the "place where they can win" and "hearts can mend." That's the beauty of little kids, they don't really care what happened in the past because they have no real concept of it yet and then when they do they still don't really see the big deal and are much more ready to "move on" than the teachers reading all the books about the successful Civil Rights Movement truly are.

Will they always graduate from the 5th grade to a world that then tells them it's impossible, that the hate is too deeply rooted, that race-based economic inequality is too systemic? Or at some point will the kids who were first taught that democracy is a system that allows for change unlike any other government running ideology be the teachers and the students be hearing about the success of the Civil Rights Movement from people who truly believe it and are free from the bitter live color images of that violent time in America, which mostly live on in black and white. Yes, at some point, having gone from live color memories to old black and white images, remembrances will not be as sharp and cutting and wounds will not resurface, be they of the inflicted or the inflictor, with every mention of race.

Then maybe the mindset of decency and, dare I say it, acceptance will not just be the world of children aged pre-k to the fifth grade. Maybe it would also be the world that receives them come 6th grade and beyond. Maybe it could be our world.

He didn't call it a dream because he thought he'd live to see it. He surely didn't call it a dream because it would provide for some catchy phrases that we could quote to pat ourselves on the back and say "by, Barack, we've done it!" And we may not be the dream, what with Bush hating black people and all (sarcasm), but we aren't the nightmare King was living when he dared to dream.

The real nightmare would be if we honestly felt we'd already achieved the dream and stopped looking for ways to love each other better and serve each other more selflessly. Then King would be rolling over in his grave for sure-- and the thing is, I wouldn't care. After all, he's "free at last, free at last." The one I'd care about being mortified and ashamed would be Jesus Christ, who doesn't have a grave to roll around in because he beat it. He beat it because he loved us and so that we could love him back the way we were always meant to. Shame on us if that restored relationship doesn't manifest itself in love for the people we interact with.

Not because it's in violation of King's dream, but stands in direct contrast of God's plan.

Thanks for the federal holiday and all, but if there's something to celebrate it's that in all of this brokenness-- from fire hoses in montgomery to more recent earthquakes in Haiti--, God doesn't just have a dream, He has a plan.

And He's looking for active participants.