The Mountaintop Hope Tour Redux
I originally wrote this piece in 2017. We were at the beginning of an era we knew would test our resolve but in no way could have predicted just bad it would be or how much pain we would endure while trying to stay on our feet to stand against hate . Little did I know at the time that my 3 minute metaphor would be so prophetic…not about the hardship, but about the triumph we celebrate today. Welcome back to the Mountaintop….
(originally written January 2017)
We know this speech. We have studied this speech. We have taught this speech. Most of all, we have been inspired by this speech, for it came from the same fight we fight today. We understand and somewhat relate to the emotion behind those iconic words. We realize, as activists, that we are not alone in this fight. For centuries before us, our ancestors fought so that we may exist to fight another day….that day is today. It’s comforting to know that we are, now, a part of the same legacy that inspired us to do this work in the first place. It’s nice to know we are a part of something much bigger than ourselves. On one hand, we are proud to know that we are fighting the good fight. On the other hand, it’s beyond devastating to realize that our fight is, actually, the exact same fight that Dr. King speaks of. In other words, nothing has changed. It almost did. Well, no, not changed, but we were given a glimpse of what we, as a society, could be.
Eight short years of the Obama Administration was not the end of our fight. It was, quite literally, just the opposite. For 8 years we reached the mountain top and were able to peek out over the so-called “promised land”. Sadly, we were only tourists (hopeful tourists, but tourists nonetheless) who were taking a “Mountaintop Hope Tour”. We were merely sightseers atop that mountain and only visitors to that promised land. Looking behind us, down the mountain, we see where we came from. We see the past. Looking ahead of us, we see what could be. We got a glimpse of the “Promised Land”. We loved the view….
Eventually, our Mountaintop Hope Tour ended. We had to turn around and carefully walk back down that mountain…walk back in time. We didn’t want to go back to what America used to be…it wasn’t great. The mountain was steep, but with our heads held high, we began the descent, knowing that we would return. Our footing was strong, our resolve even stronger. That is until we felt two tiny hands violently shove us, sending us tumbling, uncontrollably, all the way down the mountain.
So, now, here we sit, on the ground at the bottom of the mountain, once again. We are hurt, out of breath, bloodied, bruised and covered in dirt.
Whoever those baby hands belonged to may have succeeded in weakening our footing, but never our resolve. As I write this, we are already scheduling the next “Mountaintop Hope Tour”, and interest has skyrocketed. With each passing day, attendance grows exponentially. We should probably start thinking about group rates and season passes.
Why? You ask…
This is why. We aren’t going anywhere, except back up to that mountaintop…and this time, it won’t be a tour…it will be an occupation. We are taking back what is ours. The Promised Land is the land that love built, and fear tried to annihilate. We won’t let that happen. While we may be injured and in pain, WE ARE NOT ALONE. As Maxine Waters put it, “there is nothing like a wounded animal.”
See you up there…there scratch that…
Welcome back!