Let’s stop believing that our differences make us superior or inferior to one another. (Don Miguel Ruiz)
Juneteenth. I was in my seventies when I heard about the event. And the real-person images of human beings sold like cattle, fill my mind.
Have you seen my husband, brother, and child? an old letter reads. The question remains from the day when slavery ended. Legally. An end to the practice came later in name only. Loss remains. Law could not outlaw bigotry and hate.
I think about how blessed I am to live in a multi-cultured neighborhood where I see color. The way I see the beauty inside a rose garden or a watercolor pallet.
Centuries-old black and white pictures appeared before the day approached. Without moving text. History. In words. Inside the eyes of a captured individual is a fear that must stay hidden. A numbness that was mistaken for ignorance. Stay inside the master’s rules, young man. Consequences can be fatal.
Now. Freedom has come. Listen. Juneteenth. I hope for a time when equality will move with the in-and-out breath of all living creatures. Taken for granted.
