Words from the Heart

She was a little under eleven years old when Martin shared his dream with her. As with all children, she took it at face value, believing in the possibilities like she believed in pixies in the garden. While she was not the only one he had shared the dream with, somehow, she felt she held a special place in its becoming reality. As a child, she could talk of the dream in realistic terms without the practicality of the adult world raining on her. Then the unthinkable happened, her innocence was stolen by the crimes of adults who lived on fear. Martin’s dream was shattered by a hate so real she stopped sharing it. The dream became a secret she kept locked in her heart, only to be taken out when she felt safe, or most often, alone. Others did not understand the need to make the dream real. The few times she felt brave enough to even mention the possibilities of such a dream she met with ridicule. Childish sentiment, utopian imaginings, illusions of grandeur…all terms given for he...

Forty-five years ago, Martin Luther King gave his now famous, “I have a dream” speech. Forty-five years ago, we began to witness, that dream and the dreams of many Americans, systematically being snuffed out by greed, lies and violence. In the past eight years, I began to despair that America had forever lost the ability to stand proud among all the nations of the world. I began to despair that my dreams for my children and grandchildren, all female, would never come to fruition. I began to despair that while I had finally finished the education begun nearly forty years ago, I would never be allowed the opportunity to share my gifts, talents and skills with others. Last week, hope was restored. Last week, as I listened, tears spilling from the corners of my eyes, my dreams began to grow once more. Last week, as Barack Obama gave his acceptance speech as the Democratic candidate for President of these United States, possibilities for change sprang into being. Today, as I sit writin...