41 Years

"Change does not roll in on the wheels of inevitability, but comes through continuous struggle. And so we must straighten our backs and work for our freedom. A man can't ride you unless your back is bent. "

"Philanthropy is commendable, but it must not cause the philanthropist to overlook the circumstances of economic injustice which make philanthropy necessary."
-Martin Luther King, Jr.

One Day More

.
My morning's darkness gives way to the light,
the haze of night is shaken from my sight,
and a whirlwind of thoughts soar,
take heed,
I ain't got time to be bored.

What day is today?
Is it tomorrow yet?
How long, how long, how long....
have the days been since that November night?
Come on already!
Just make it right.

What's going through my head?
Exuberance, joy, pride, hope, anticipation...
Got's no time to rest
time to get up from this here bed.

Words fail to gather to me now,
As I recognize the dawning of tomorrow
It seemed so far away,
the countless ticking hours,
slowly, slowly, slowly
Sixty days became fifty-nine days,
fifty-nine days became fifty-eight days,
and so on.

But at long last we are down to one,
Only one day more.
Yes, thank God Almighty,
its only one day more.

And when the 'morrow comes,
At noon a man will rise,
place his dark hand on the Bible,
and recite the Oath of Office,

Marking this tremendous American first,
January 20, 2009 will not be just one more day
in a season where light is scarce,
though it will be a cold Winter's mourn,
Americans and people around the world,
will gather and watch this moment,
and bask in the promise of new radiance

Riding on the words "Yes We Can,"
never forgetting the dark days past,
holding dear to the goals and the hope of our foreparents,
A grandmother will look at her grandchild,
a father take hold of his son's hand,
and with a few tears of joy,
they will celebrate together this installation of our new President,

Clinging to Barack's words "HOPE" and "CHANGE,"
We will forge ahead,
never forgetting those who came before.

Our Rosa, Martin, Malcolm, Thurgood,
our Chisholm, DuBois, Bethune,
Just to name a few names,
those among thousands who walked ahead,
We will not forget you,
Our day,
our one day more,
we hold you dear in our thoughts and our hearts,
you gave us inspiration when there was none,
tomorrow will be a celebration of you as well

For this child born in August,
who would later hear the words spoken on another August day
took up your mantle,
gathering that inspiration and rose up to the occasion,
and becomes America's 44th President,

That child,
Barack Obama,
represents your face of America,
a face not so new,
but symbolizing the face of a people,
a people who have been here since the beginning

Barack will take residence in the home built on the back of slaves,
hold an Office where many men before
had not always been so kind to America's darker skinned children,
But Obama's ascension to the Oval Office is a new dawn,
a time to put aside negativity.

For the dream has always been,
though oft times forgot,
this measure of equality
seems at long last,
that American has been given her due,

Too,
we are reminded Barack is not just for one group,
one set aside of individuals,
but for all Americans,
The Black, the White, the Latino, the Asian,
and our brothers who tread the soil long before
European settlers or slave ships from Africa
touched this continent....
Americans,
the tribes of the Native Peoples,
Native Indigenous Americans.

With respect,
I nod and bow my head in honour,
give thanks to you as well.
We who behold this marker in history,
Just like another set many year a' fore,
renew our promise in America,
that we are One.
That the whole is always greater than her parts,
is always best when united,

One people,
one mind,
though we come in different colours,
different creeds,
different faiths,
different genders, race, sexuality,
we are the cacophony of voices that becomes one.

Let's never forget what November 2008 brought,
let's usher forth renewed faith,
take courage to stop the ways of the past,
and bring on a new day.
It is our celebration,
it is our time,
our now,
how great, oh how great,
if we can only wait,
just one day more.....

written 19 January 2009
-Ian E.

5 Day Obama/King Weekend

When I was a young teenager and my father introduced me to Coretta Scott King, I gave little thought the impact such a chance encounter should have had on my life. It was only years later, after Mrs. King passed away, that I recognized and understood the importance of that occasion. Here was a woman who stood shoulder to shoulder with the greatest Civil Rights leader in American history, and I met her. I took for granted the things Mrs. King saw and experienced; how my meeting her was a touch upon history itself.

Now as an adult, and in my lifetime, America is on the eve of swearing in the first Black President. Any adjective I could type fails to give significant characterization of this historical event. And how was this all possible? By the struggles and strife of men who came before, like Dr. King. I embrace, with a full heart, how privileged I was to meet Mrs. King. See, it's funny. I've been griping and complaining because I keep missing opportunities to meet Barack Obama. I stand in awe of the man, captured by his greatness, and want to feel his presence in this historical moment. But duh! I already have been touched by history. I met the late wife of Dr. Martin Luther King. Greatness doesn't get much better than that!

This MLK Day Holiday weekend takes on special significance. Yes, we got Obama to the White House, but our journey didn't start there. If not for men like Dr. King, an Obama Presidency would never occurred. So as we look forward to Tuesday, I'm reminded how truly blessed America was, and is, for having Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr trailblaze the way for our brother Barack H. Obama, Jr...

Have a great King Day Holiday Weekend y'all!
-Ian

40 Years, 12 Years, Friday

These last few days have been a little bit solemn, even though I didn't blog about it until tonight. Yet, I celebrate the spirit and memories that were for the lives that touched my soul.

My father passed away on April 3, 1996, 12 years ago Thursday, after a short battle with cancer. Friday also marked the 40th anniversary of the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. And while I never knew her, I learned from fellow blogger, Greg, that his mother passed away Friday morning. Despite not knowing his mother, Greg has been very kind in keeping in contact and making me laugh as I convalesce from my own problems, and been a good buddy. I tip my hat to Greg mother for raising a such decent fellow. Job well done, ma'am.

To my Pops, Issy ("eye-see"), I have much to be thankful and grateful. The man who aided in giving me life, no matter what his faults were, was still a man I must honor. He was tough at times, we often didn't see eye to eye, nor understood one another, but for every negative, there was enough good. No one ever in my life has made me laugh the way he did. No man in my life has challenged me (both good and bad) in the ways he did. No one else has taught me to fight, stand up, and act upon my convictions, like he did.

As each day another grey hair appears in my thick mane, I stare in the mirror and notice another laugh line, I see his face staring back at me. Even my skin tones is taking on more complexion to his. I've always been the perfect blend between my parents. My fair-skinned ("high yella" and I say that with utmost respect) mother and my dark, père noir, produced a healthy reddish copper-skinned boy with a head full'a hair. My hair has always been long, even from day one! I get that from mom-mom's side.

The older I get, I swear my tone is changing, becoming more like my father! Maybe I'm just crazy. Perhaps, I just miss my pops... Most often, my daily life is business as usual. Then there are days when he is on my mind constantly, like this time of year, when I can almost feel his presence.

In his memory, I give him thanks for his efforts. Issy might not have won't the 'father-of-the-year' award, I might not have had the most positive childhood he could've provided me, but I honestly believed he tried his best....

With Regards to Dr. King, well, that goes without saying; the debt I owe him.

I studied much of the Civil Rights Movement in college based on his lead. I took from his example and wanted to be a Social History professor teaching on the social upheaval in the United States starting with 1919 through turbulent 1960s. All inspired by Dr. King.

My words cannot adequately give thanks to Dr. King for his struggle, patience, determination, and endurance he gave to the Civil Rights Movement, so that one day this same gender loving multi-ethnic black man blogging before you, can dare say, "I feel equal."

Oh yes, the Dream is still alive! Yes, we need never forget Dr. King, nor give up fightin' what he believed in passionately. Racism still raises its head too often and the good struggle is far from over, but one day, someday, everything will come to pass as martin noted in his speech on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. For those dreary days, cling to "And This Too Shall Pass," and keep striving for what is right and just!The dream will become life only if we make it happen...

One of my greatest moments is being able to say I met his widow, the late Coretta Scott King. I met her way back in the day when I was about 12-13. I'm not bragging about meeting her, but it was an honor. She spoke at commencement and my father arranged that I could speak with her afterwards. So through her, I knew, and still know, I touched a piece of history. Every time I make it to Atlanta, I always try to get over to the King Center and see the grave site for Dr. King. I have not been to Atlanta since Mrs. King died, but I'm due for a visit soon. I have family down there, so there's no excuse!

Anyway... enough of my simplistic words. Here's to life and memories of Dr. & Mrs. Martin Luther King Jr, my Pops, "Issy," and Greg from Point & Shoot's mother. Godspeed. Thank you for your patience, your diligence, blood, sweat, tears, and your time on Earth. I know God said to you Well done thy faithful servant when He greeted you. Yes, even you daddy, even you. I will see you again someday.

"I miss you, Pop. Say hi to Aunts Dee-Dee & Ellie, Gram'ma AP, and Pop-Pop Issy. Y'all keep an out on me, cuz I need it more than ever these days..."

Love,
Ian

Martin Luther King, Jr Day 2008

Excerpt from:

Letter from a Birmingham Jail

"We have waited for more than 340 years for our constitutional and God given rights. The nations of Asia and Africa are moving with jetlike speed toward gaining political independence, but we still creep at horse and buggy pace toward gaining a cup of coffee at a lunch counter.

Perhaps it is easy for those who have never felt the stinging darts of segregation to say, "Wait." But when you have seen vicious mobs lynch your mothers and fathers at will and drown your sisters and brothers at whim; when you have seen hate filled policemen curse, kick and even kill your black brothers and sisters; when you see the vast majority of your twenty million Negro brothers smothering in an airtight cage of poverty in the midst of an affluent society; when you suddenly find your tongue twisted and your speech stammering as you seek to explain to your six year old daughter why she can't go to the public amusement park that has just been advertised on television, and see tears welling up in her eyes when she is told that Funtown is closed to colored children, and see ominous clouds of inferiority beginning to form in her little mental sky, and see her beginning to distort her personality by developing an unconscious bitterness toward white people; when you have to concoct an answer for a five year old son who is asking: "Daddy, why do white people treat colored people so mean?"; when you take a cross county drive and find it necessary to sleep night after night in the uncomfortable corners of your automobile because no motel will accept you; when you are humiliated day in and day out by nagging signs reading "white" and "colored"; when your first name becomes "nigger," your middle name becomes "boy" (however old you are) and your last name becomes "John," and your wife and mother are never given the respected title "Mrs."; when you are harried by day and haunted by night by the fact that you are a Negro, living constantly at tiptoe stance, never quite knowing what to expect next, and are plagued with inner fears and outer resentments; when you are forever fighting a degenerating sense of "nobodiness"--then you will understand why we find it difficult to wait.

There comes a time when the cup of endurance runs over, and men are no longer willing to be plunged into the abyss of despair. I hope, sirs, you can understand our legitimate and unavoidable impatience. You express a great deal of anxiety over our willingness to break laws. This is certainly a legitimate concern. Since we so diligently urge people to obey the Supreme Court's decision of 1954 outlawing segregation in the public schools, at first glance it may seem rather paradoxical for us consciously to break laws. One may well ask: "How can you advocate breaking some laws and obeying others?" The answer lies in the fact that there are two types of laws: just and unjust. I would be the first to advocate obeying just laws. One has not only a legal but a moral responsibility to obey just laws. Conversely, one has a moral responsibility to disobey unjust laws. I would agree with St. Augustine that "an unjust law is no law at all."