| Dear Good Sir, It's been several days since I was given the assignment to write an article for this week's column. As usual, I could've written about whatever I wanted, but for once I wanted to respect my editor's wishes and focus on something actually related to the theme of the issue being released. This week, it's all about you: you know it would've been your 77th birthday on Monday, and ironically enough folk down here still give a care about commemorating that fact. This Monday will be the first time in at least three years that I won't be participating in any activity at all that bears your legacy; oddly enough, I'm not ashamed about this -- perhaps that's why I'm slightly nervous to write this at all. It's funny -- I've been up to my elbows in your essence for the past three years. I've attended workshops and given speeches in your honor, watched countless videos about the life you led; I've worked with other young people, and even had them reciting your benchmark speech, just to remind their peers what you were so famous for. It's a different thing though when your paycheck depends on it; now that my bread is buttered in a different way I can't lie that I'm not as concerned as I once was. I'm sure that breaks your heart; if it doesn't break yours it breaks mine, because the truth is that I should be more concerned; we should all be more concerned about who you were, and what your life truly means relative to where we are now as a people. At this point though you are likened in my mind to my grandfather, and so many other men in my life: you are respected for being essentially significant -- but my appreciation only goes as far as the title you hold. As much as I've done in your name, most folk would assume I should hold a special place in my heart for you, just like I might Jesus, or Bill Clinton. But let me tell the truth: you have never been more than a basic history lesson to me. You're the name that comes up every January and February during Black History Month, whenever someone wanted to try to remember anything that could possibly be good about us lowly Black folk; you're the image conjured up every time some conservative right-winger wants to try and convince the working poor among them that racism has nothing to do with "why we can't all get along"; you're the man that to this day evokes random renditions of "We Shall Overcome." At the end of the day though you're a man -- who lived in a time long ago --and did something that has benefited me and countless others like me -- although I can't quite grasp the full extent of what that something is. I'm not proud to say it -- but that's what you mean to me. Mos Def said, "The hard headed always gotta feel it to believe it. " I imagine that's the real reason why you've been reduced so dramatically to soundbytes and what-not. That same comment though is right on point as it relates to how we as Black folk can perhaps move forward with what you started. Your dream has come a mighty long way, but if you can see us from anywhere in the spirit world you know we still feel the struggle, and have a lot more work to get done; what is probably most important at this point is that we all remember the biblical truths you believed in so wholeheartedly -- that what affects even the least of our society is a problem we all must concern ourselves with helping to solve. I don't know if you'll ever get to worship status in my book, as you are -- understandably -- to others; but I personally commit to never giving up on the lessons you've left behind, and studying them as much as I can to become a better person for those who will follow me. I ask that you have mercy on us who are still lost, and perhaps you can petition the saints to send us a bit more bravery over the things that matter most. Thank you for all you did, Good Sir. Take care, and may God, in his infinite wisdom, keep us all. |
| Random Order/ Tracie Gilbert Letter to a King |
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