I went out with a friend last night. As we got our drinks, I stopped, looked at him and murmured, “Wait, wait, wait. To Martin Luther King and civil rights.”
He offered up his own salute. “Here’s to having a dream.” Our glasses clinked.
I loved that he said that. Here’s a white male who has no connection to the civil rights movement, probably hasn’t experienced much discrimination, and to think of MLKJ in a way that resonates with him. That when it comes down to it, there was a man who had a dream, proclaimed his dream, and inspired a nation to believe.
As someone who rarely dreams, I dream through books. I become the characters. I get so engrossed. In college, I’d read novels for my English classes, think up a thesis, then read the books all over again to support my papers. I never half-assed when it came to writing because I was happy doing it. This is so much a part of my life: reading, writing, books, libraries, bookstores.
My dream is to be published. I laugh to myself and think, ‘Where the hell am I going to get published?’ But it’s something to strive for, something to be passionate about. What a great way to honor the holiday. Every year, every day. Here’s to having a dream.