Inguguration Day

Suerk and I share a friend who offered the words that follow in his blog. We thought it might be right to share his words here today.




rise up; it is a brand new day

My Grandfather, the one whose name I share, was raised at the family place by a woman his father used to own. His father, whose name I also share, is buried there in the family graveyard, just feet from his slaves. His grave is elaborately marked, but not that of his son's nannie. Just simple rocks. A low, stacked stone wall separates them, the named and the nameless.

There is a walnut chest of Aunt Janie's passed from generation to generation that occupies a place of honor in our family. It is Aunt Janie's Chest, a gift to her favorite white child and it sits in the bedroom of my father, whose name I share.

My father, I was to learn later in life, lost a job and changed a career because he marched and preached for those who lacked his same rights, those nameless souls that languished in poverty, ignorance and discrimination. The broken. The destitute. Those full of grace. The nannies and the craftsmen and the toilers. Those across the wall.

So the election of a black man to this nation's highest office resonates deeply within me. It rattles through my core and calls up emotions I didn't know I had. Emotions probably shared with generations of like-named men. It breaks through the layers of prejudice and hate and violence and fear. It breaks down so many walls, real and imagined. More than anything, it makes me proud of my family, proud of my country, proud of what we can achieve. Indeed, there is hope.

JTBjr