And My Promise?
I know I’m always about two weeks late to comment on anything topical, but that’s about my pace right now. My saintly husband took T on a walk this morning and I actually sat down with my coffee and read the February 15 issue of The New Yorker. “The Promise” moved me to tears and prompted a moment of unpleasant self-examination. I looked at the 1965 photograph of the marchers in Selma, arms locked, and I wondered- would I have been there?
By this I don’t mean to ask if I would have supported The Civil Rights Movement, because on that question I feel I know myself and I know my heart. But rather, would I have taken time out from my demanding life and stood with the marchers? Or would I have said- no, I have an interview with German Cosmo today. I’ve worked so hard for this moment in my career and I just can’t let it slip by. No, I have to take T to Traveltown. No, I have a mountain of paperwork on my desk and 300 emails in my inbox and I just can’t make it, but I’ll buy the t-shirt for the cause and wear it when I shop at Whole Foods.
Every time my family sits down to eat a meal, we’re living the fulfillment of the dream these activists had forty years ago. So what promise can I now make to my son for the betterment of the world in which he’s growing up? And how can I work toward the fulfillment of that promise? Now. Today. With 300 emails in my inbox and a demanding career toward which I’ve worked so hard and a family for which I’ve waited so long. I don’t have the answer. But I’m letting the question be my prayer.
Tags: Jillian Lauren, Tariku Shriner, The New Yorker., The Promise