Wrapping My Thoughts Around Luminaries

For anyone who’s already heard this story I’m about to share for the ninety-ninth time, please forgive me.

I was about four when this reading, writing, living, learning and laughing journey began.

Repeating the story for what now may be the hundredth time, (excluding embellishments), it’s a good chance about an hour after me and my family finished blessing our table and eating, while deep into wondering about the tooth fairy’s whereabouts, or if Santa got my list, when I looked up at the TV to see men dressed in shirts, neckties, suits and dress shoes, and women dressed in skirts and heels being hosed down and beaten by men holding dogs and wielding clubs.

From that moment my world changed. I asked my father to explain what I saw. He said he couldn’t. ‘I wouldn’t understand,’ he said. I begged and pleaded, promising I would understand. In my head I was sure I’d understand. And apparently, clear as today is today I have never forgotten that moment.

When he refused to tell me, I told him, “I was going to be a writer… so I could let everyone know my people were not bad people.” 

I don’t believe I had even read a book at this age, much less knew what ‘being a writer’ meant. At this age my world was such a blank slate that the books my mother read to me were literally vessels of fairytales themselves. To this day I don’t know what impetus created the notion in my mind, on that day, to write.

At any rate, my father went on to tell me I was too young and didn’t have enough experiences to write, and I went on to get those experiences. And so now here we are.

Looking back I realize why my father probably couldn’t explain what I’d seen on TV. He really couldn’t. And not because he didn’t want to, or didn’t think he had the answer, but because I don’t believe he knew the answer himself.

Back then I, probably like him, were pretty convinced of right and wrong, good and bad, and who deserved to be hurt, and who didn’t. 

It has taken living, reading and learning (and in that order) to see the value in reading about luminaries like Dr. King (why memoirs remain my favorite). Examining views I may or may not support, and recommending those that amplify, alter or engage my worldview is a personally important passion. Through the insights of others (worldwide) I got to better appreciate the core of right and wrong, good and bad, and how NO ONE deserves to be hurt (different from getting hurt) because everyone has a reason why…even those who don’t know why they hurt, or those who have literally loved someone to death. (Some may have to read that again).

Look, understanding may never create world peace, but knowledge just might.

“Sitting at the Table of Brotherhood” honoring Dr. King - 365.

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