Doggedly searching for the crux of the biscuit.
Just go read.
snif snif.
I grew up a white kid in a black world in Durham, NC. Ma & Pa G. were colonists of sorts from out West and the Deep South, respectively, and the African American community accepted us and I rarely felt out-of-place growing up. I know I've heard Dr. King's 'I Have a Dream' a thousand times. Hell, in grade school we spent more time learning about George Washington Carver than we spent learning about the Father of our Country and February was always fun because we had assemblies with special speakers, musicians, and yes...preachers every day.
But each time I reread I Have a Dream I'm awestruck. Awestruck by the immensity of the distance come and by the immensity of the distance yet to go.
TrackBackMe too me too - we knew all about Phyllis Wheatley and nothing about Emily Dickinson - we had African American pro-athletes (a teacher's son was in the NFL and he arranged it all) as speakers (perhaps we should have just rolled some footage as the speeches were - well it wasn't as bad as the graduation speaker who was an incredibly successful Clinique saleswoman) - after all these years here in Liberal White College Town I really miss it.
Posted by: owlmother at August 30, 2003 10:35 AM