Basis for our "inescapable network of mutuality"

Good evening Neighbors,

At the end of this infamous day in the history of our struggle for freedom and justice, I write to share a quote from the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s Letter from a Birmingham Jail and all of Poet Maya Angelou’s “On the Pulse of Morning”. For me, these two prolific writings embody the historic basis for our common ground and the reasons we must remain hopeful when we wake up each morning and continue together on this long journey towards justice and “true peace”….

Letter from a Birmingham Jail by Martin Luther King Jr.

“Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.”

“On the Pulse of Morning” by Maya Angelou

A Rock, A River, A Tree
 

Hosts to species long since departed,
 

Marked the mastodon.

The dinosaur, who left dry tokens
 

Of their sojourn here
 

On our planet floor,
 

Any broad alarm of their hastening doom
 

Is lost in the gloom of dust and ages.

But today, the Rock cries out to us, clearly, forcefully,
 

Come, you may stand upon my
 

Back and face your distant destiny,
 

But seek no haven in my shadow.

I will give you no more hiding place down here.

You, created only a little lower than
 

The angels, have crouched too long in
 

The bruising darkness,
 

Have lain too long
 

Face down in ignorance.

Your mouths spilling words
 

Armed for slaughter.

The Rock cries out today, you may stand on me,
 

But do not hide your face.

Across the wall of the world,
 

A River sings a beautiful song,
 

Come rest here by my side.

Each of you a bordered country,
 

Delicate and strangely made proud,
 

Yet thrusting perpetually under siege.

Your armed struggles for profit
 

Have left collars of waste upon
 

My shore, currents of debris upon my breast.

Yet, today I call you to my riverside,
 

If you will study war no more. Come,

Clad in peace and I will sing the songs
 

The Creator gave to me when I and the
 

Tree and the stone were one.

Before cynicism was a bloody sear across your
 

Brow and when you yet knew you still
 

Knew nothing.

The River sings and sings on.

There is a true yearning to respond to
 

The singing River and the wise Rock.

So say the Asian, the Hispanic, the Jew
 

The African and Native American, the Sioux,
 

The Catholic, the Muslim, the French, the Greek
 

The Irish, the Rabbi, the Priest, the Sheikh,
 

The Gay, the Straight, the Preacher,
 

The privileged, the homeless, the Teacher.
 

They hear. They all hear
 

The speaking of the Tree.

Today, the first and last of every Tree
 

Speaks to humankind. Come to me, here beside the River.

Plant yourself beside me, here beside the River.

Each of you, descendant of some passed
 

On traveller, has been paid for.

You, who gave me my first name, you
 

Pawnee, Apache and Seneca, you
 

Cherokee Nation, who rested with me, then
 

Forced on bloody feet, left me to the employment of
 

Other seekers--desperate for gain,
 

Starving for gold.

You, the Turk, the Swede, the German, the Scot ...
 

You the Ashanti, the Yoruba, the Kru, bought
 

Sold, stolen, arriving on a nightmare
 

Praying for a dream.

Here, root yourselves beside me.

I am the Tree planted by the River,
 

Which will not be moved.

I, the Rock, I the River, I the Tree
 

I am yours--your Passages have been paid.

Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need
 

For this bright morning dawning for you.

History, despite its wrenching pain,
 

Cannot be unlived, and if faced
 

With courage, need not be lived again.

Lift up your eyes upon
 

The day breaking for you.

Give birth again
 

To the dream.

Women, children, men,
 

Take it into the palms of your hands.

Mold it into the shape of your most
 

Private need. Sculpt it into
 

The image of your most public self.
 

Lift up your hearts
 

Each new hour holds new chances
 

For new beginnings.

Do not be wedded forever
 

To fear, yoked eternally
 

To brutishness.

The horizon leans forward,
 

Offering you space to place new steps of change.
 

Here, on the pulse of this fine day
 

You may have the courage
 

To look up and out upon me, the
 

Rock, the River, the Tree, your country.

No less to Midas than the mendicant.

No less to you now than the mastodon then.

Here on the pulse of this new day
 

You may have the grace to look up and out
 

And into your sister's eyes, into
 

Your brother's face, your country
 

And say simply
 

Very simply
 

With hope
 

Good morning.

Contact DEI Facilitation & Consulting (386-473-1033) to discuss how Ted Small can utilize the writings of Dr. King and our common ground in songs, poetry and rhetoric to facilitate honest dialogue about the potential for transformative collaboration between the diverse stakeholders in your organization.