I appreciate my grandmother and father in a spanking new way. Neither talked about past hardship—they did what needed doing. How humbling, their sacrifices. What little I know of deprivation or terror. I must latch on to this worthy perspective. “Getting over myself” seems the least I can do. May empathy always triumph over ego.
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When Lucille Clifton asks, “won’t you celebrate with me,” we answer yes. What does this Black woman decide when she finds no model for how to create her life? “what did i see but to be myself?” she responds. The poet fastens her hands and makes her life of “starshine and clay.” What does a boy from the staunchly-segregated south long to do before he dies? Jimmy Carter casts his ballot for Kamala Harris. Won’t you celebrate the 39th president with me?