One word I use to describe poems by Claude McKay is bitter. Anyone who
has never studied American history can easily say Claude McKay sounds like a
bitter and angry person. Nobody would probably argue. I won’t. When I first
read McKay’s poetry last year in American literature, I did not feel connected
to him the way I did Keats, Wordsworth, Tennyson, Browning, and Arnold. One of
the biggest differences between British literature and American literature
seems to be the idea that American literature represses the self. Over time, I did
grow to appreciate the writings of Claude McKay along with several other poets
and writers.
Today we celebrate the life of Martin Luther King, Jr. along with
the second inauguration of President Barack Obama. I do not believe King’s real idea
of a dream for the American people is still alive and active in this world. When
our American prisons and jails are disproportioned with African Americans and
minorities, King’s dream for equality is not active. When I turn on the
television, I must rely on Antenna TV to play good old wholesome shows from a
period when I was not alive. Only one spokesperson for the Southern Baptist
denomination is an African American. On the East Coast, the majority of Jehovah
Witnesses going out into service each week are African Americans.
While my husband and I were engaged, we attended a local
denomination. Since we are in an important college town, I thought there would
have been more people of ethnic backgrounds. By ethnic backgrounds, I mean
students from Nigeria, India, Europe, Africa, and Russia. As we sat in the pews,
I began to realize my husband was the only person of a different race. We filled
out the welcome information and set it in the plate.
A few weeks later, I received a thoughtful card with several lines
of writing. My husband received a card at his home. The stamp consisted of a
Confederate flag and there was only one or two lines of writing. This upset me.
Needlesstosay, we did not go back to this church. As bad
luck seems to come in doubles for us, the first church we attended in Norman
seemed worse. As my husband stood by my side, the Pastor greeting me warmly and
welcomed me to the church. What about my husband? After the Pastor greeted me,
he moved on to welcome other couples. So, I hit the road and my husband
followed.
One thing my husband has learned about me during our long marriage
is I will not put up with much. I won’t put up with being around people who do
not accept differences. There is an obvious difference in my husband and my
race. My husband’s paternal grandparents were natural born Italian immigrants
residing New York. My husband’s maternal grandmother was born in Wilmington,
North Carolina, and descended from slaves. Our two-year-old Chihuahua shares
the same big ears as his Father along with other characteristics. Our son does
not notice his Mommy has a physical disability or that his Daddy lives with a
mental illness. When our son first laid eyes on us, he fell in love with us.
In American literature, I read stories about lynching, a woman
hanging from the thirty-something floor, dreams deferred, a female writer
having to write under a pseudonym as she tried to reach freed females from the
North who could save Southern women, Maya Angelou’s struggle with racism as she
tried to work on the streetcar, and more. As I write this today, I am truly
amazed. I am truly amazed at the strength these writers showed their world and
our world. These writers took big risks with their words.
In today’s world, if we freely express our voices on the candidate
and political party we support, we run the risk of being ex-communicated from
our strong network of family, friends, and often times employment. I have
learned to not express my support for the desired political party. People I had
never even met accused me of coveting the wealthy and supporting a modern-day
Robinhood. This morning I am able to laugh about the name calling and humor of
the wording. I do not engage myself in political debates, mathematical debates,
history debates, science debates, or life debates. In the end, somebody is
going to be smarter than I am and put me down or wind up using name-calling
tactics. So, I do not put myself in that uncomfortable position. I am above
that.
As a resident in our great nation, I pray for our President’s
health on this day of his second inauguration. I pray for our President to
carry out his second term with integrity, assertiveness, and compassion. I pray
for our President to be able to have the support of our represented leaders
nation-wide who will do everything in their power to work with our President
when making decisions. I pray for our nation to embrace one another with love,
unconditional love, support, and encouragement.
Today we honor a man who provided dreams and hopes for our nation
for decades. This man’s name was Martin Luther King, Junior. We set aside our
lives to remember what this great man did for our nation. After his death,
colleges admitted African American citizens. African American citizens were
finally recognized as equals under state and federal laws. Today we give thanks
for being able to celebrate the dedication and support the great King gave our
people. We would not be the same America without King’s honorable service to
our country.
Please take some time and listen to “I Have A Dream” by Martin
Luther King, Junior. Thank you for changing our world for the better.
"I Have A Dream" by Martin Luther King, Junior - August 28, 1963
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=smEqnnklfYs
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