On what it will take to finally become the vibrant, unified nation that we’ve always know we can be
Dear Brothers and Sisters of the United States of America,
For so long, we pretended that things were fine when they were not.
Some of us believed that amends had been made, and that we existed as part of a steady march of progress — a rising tide that lifted all boats. Some of us knew that the tide — while certainly lifting some boats— continued to destroy so many ships that never had a chance against the turbulent sea. Some of us thought that however much things fell short of what we knew in our hearts to be just, perhaps this was the best we could do for now. We kept on with our lives, perhaps some distant glimmer of hope in our hearts.
But we’ve been shaken awake from our slumbering state — shaken awake by tragedy — again. The tragedy, unlike other tragedies, is neither rare nor unexpected. In fact what makes it tragic is that it is neither. But our mental state at the moment is such that this particular iteration of a recurring tragedy has awoken some of us that were previously content to settle back into slumber.
Tragedies happen all the time. And a people can either wallow in them or use them to become better. That is what separates a resilient people from a dying one.
But in order to be a resilient people, we have to first be a people — as in a singular, united people. And while perhaps some in this country have walked along believing that we are indeed one people, enough of us have not acted in that way — which means that we are not, as of yet, one people. There are distinctions and differences in us which — if praised and glorified — could be the foundation of a diverse, vibrant, and unified people. Instead, they have served as the basis of fear and division.
But now is our chance. It’s our chance to become one people — or at least take the biggest step in five decades toward becoming one people, and to proving that as a people, we are resilient.
As anyone in management will tell you, it’s those with the authority and power who bear the responsibility for bringing people together. Grievances dismissed are grievances left to fester. They are cracks in the foundation — waiting to let in water to tear apart any hope of a unified team. The same is true within a nation. Those with authority, those with power, those who have been at the helm for centuries — the onus is on them.
Anyone in management can also tell you that it sometimes hurts to hear when you have allowed things to fall apart. But the more it hurts, the more intently you must listen — the more you must ask questions with the intent to understand. And when you finally do understand, let that understanding turn into action — action aimed at both making things right, and cultivating unity. And if you cannot do that, then find someone else who can, and step aside to let them do it.
I am not sure why, but I have faith. Though we are not yet one people, I can sense that we have a deep desire to be. Yes, some have denied this desire, and resisted it — trying to force shortsighted divisions and distractions upon the rest of us. But the desire has never gone away. I think we’ve had this desire for a long time, and I think that now is the time to make it into reality. This is the time to become the unified, resilient people we know we can be.
It hasn’t been easy to love you, America, but I do. I love you because I have seen you. And though I have at many moments seen the worst of you, I have also seen glimmers of the best of you, of what I know you can be — often in the most unexpected places. I’ve seen you on the street corners, in the mosques, community centers, at the borders, in the neglected neighborhoods, and sitting on the front porch on hot summer days. I’ve seen you do great things — small, seemingly mundane things that nearly blinded me with their grace and good will. I’ve seen your heart and soul. And that has helped me keep on loving you. It’s helped me keep my faith.
So, to the nation I love so dearly, but in such a fraught and complicated way: I’m here for you. I love you. It’s love, but it’s a tough love. No more leniency. No more enabling. We’ll get through this, but not without you finally dropping the B.S., and living up to your potential.
No more excuses. The work will be hard, and you may want to give up at times, but don’t. It will be worth it. And when this is all over, we’ll be the resilient people that I know we can be.