So this is the day, the last of days. Three hundred and sixty-five days of protests, lay-ins, new laws, broken laws, innocent jailing, pride, nationalism, fear and hope. This day, without failure, wipes the windshield of mud and dirt, eternally with the promise of change. There lays the golden box of opportunity, a time to reinvent, restructure and rebuild. Imagine the pressure this one day must feel, having to live up to millions of expectations as the day to strip oneself of old habits, bad habits and start anew.
We are one human race. I have eyes that see, sometimes with lenses and sometimes without. I have feet that step up stairs and sometimes down. You have a heart that feels and a mind that wanders. But imaginary lines, sometimes even walls, and beliefs in this world and in what may happen next somehow strip us of our brotherhood.
I deserve an education and you do not. She must tirelessly labor but still not provide food for her family. He is not allowed justice because of the color of his skin. She belongs at home. He must act like a 'man'.
I feel the same amount the pain as you. Your mind, your wandering mind, craves just the same amount of knowledge as mine. If stripped of these crusty, old ways, would we, could we fall in love?
But tomorrow, we start anew. Walls will become transparent, I will welcome you into my home. Your uniform will represent safety, but also trust. You see me and my people, my family and my community as your own. Each and every being is born very different, yet the same. You will nurture and cherish what makes you and I and him and her so beautifully, artistically, almost painfully distinctive.
With it all gone, every last drop of him versus her, we versus them, laws that separate, people that discriminate, in the absence of pain, we will in turn feel pleasure?
Don't promise me hope without forgiveness and equality without action. Why does each year end every, single time giving us the chance to start over? I can tell you, for sure, it is not so that we have the second chance to hurt or another round of revenge. We give way to tomorrow for mending, bettering ourselves and those around us.
Just one last thing, on this new day, promise me humanity.
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