One year ago this morning. Hope.
Today, I am not so sure. But I haven’t given up yet. I am still astride the bandwagon. I have seen signs of the change that history promised. Then I realize, change is in the eye of the beholder:
I had hoped for an end to war.
I had hoped for an end to Wall Street’s hammer-hold on our nation’s leaders.
I had hoped for jobs and for the arrest of the economy’s free-fall.
I had hoped for clean air again.
I had hoped for harmony; an end to partisan bickering.
I had hoped for health care for our children.
I had hoped for a better plan than this blind obedience to endless testing in our schools.
I had hoped for miracles. Hundreds of them. Each laid out– day by day by day.
So much has happened in one year it is easy to forget the spirit of pure joy I felt on Inauguration Day. There was the return to Afghanistan and Professor Gates and the Rick Warren thing and Gitmo and Coppenhagen and bail outs and declining polls and double-digit unemployment and stalled health care plans and tea party whackos, and Arne’s Race to the Top of God knows what. And Haiti. And CNN’s incessant commentary. Most of it unfavorable.
I’m wondering… if it has taken me twenty years to learn how to be a decent principal, how long does it take to learn to be the president?
I’m wondering… What really does happen to a dream deferred?
I’m wondering… what can I DO? As I wait for America’s resurrection. Besides just hope.