I believe in an America in which the color of one’s actions
will be of greater importance than ones religion, ethnicity or the color of one’s skin.
I envision a world in which beliefs related to segregation of any sort will become as antiquated, to future Americans, as the belief that “the world is flat” was for previous civilizations.
At present, many people in our great nation have allowed
themselves, and continue to allow others to be segregated
into different racial, religious and ethnic groups.
And, unfortunately, verbal and non-verbal violence against those who are considered to be different continues unabated amongst Americans.
Throughout my younger years and until his death, while I was in my early twenties, my grandfather repeatedly told me: “this great
Country of ours is beginning to slowly awaken into a new
Age of Enlightenment…”
Each time he smiled and assured me of the changes taking place, my mind would fill with visions of a Nation in which all Americans will have rid themselves of the shackles of the
dogma that reinforce racism and/or biases based on skin pigmentation, hair texture, eye color, certain sets of physical characteristics, religious beliefs or ethnic heritage.
At various times during the years, I have allowed my mind to
drift back to an old horse stable at a park, in my hometown.
At those times, the sights and smells of one of our family picnics become enticing stimuli for an event that I am unable to forget.
My cousin, a few years older, and I had wandered off to the stable. Curiosity took us in tow and within moments, we were mesmerized by the horses grazing on the opposite side of
a white wooden fence. Initially, we were oblivious to the small group of people conversing about breeding the black stallion and white mare that grazed within inches of one another, just beyond
our reach.
Suddenly, we were showered with verbal assaults because of the color of our skin. These people who moments early were behaving in such a civilized manner, gleefully discussing their expectations regarding the possible “grand coloration” of the offspring of the union, reacted with uncontrolled disgust and anger at the sight of two little black boys.
The scathing attack from these adults burned deeply into my psyche. Ironically, the sheer horror of that faithful event failed
to discourage the beliefs verbalized by my grandfather so many times.
That nanve boy whose mind was filled with pleasant images created by a beloved grandfather, vanished long ago.
But, in his place there stands a man who has been blessed with
the ability to recognize the small but growing “pockets of
sanity” that are quietly blossoming in every corner of our nation.
Pockets of Sanity are communities in which men and women of goodwill allow themselves to celebrate the human race without divisions.
I believe in an America in which “Pockets of Sanity” will become
the rule rather than the exception.
I believe that America is continuing slow but deliberate progress into a new Age of Enlightenment.
This I believe…