Ramblings Post #235
Winners never quit, and quitters never win. I don't know why that strikes a cord now, that and I just now realize that listening to the copy of the MLK speech while trying to type is not the swiftest idea I've ever had. Nope, not swift at all.
Fifty years ago, a man had a dream. He dreamt that one day, the nation of his birth would accept him as an equal. That he would judged by the content of character, by the result of his actions, and not by the mere color of the skin that random chance had bestowed upon him. That he wouldn't be consigned to second class citizenry from a country that expected him to defend it until death. And now, fifty years later, we've come farther than I think he might have ever dreamed. We have a president whose color he shared, and opportunity abounds. And yet in other ways we're still in that crowd, amidst the monuments built with the blood of forefathers, our ears ringing from his words, and still only hoping for a better tomorrow. For we are still held in the same regard as he was, as second class citizens undeserving of either justice or the benefit of the doubt by so many, as though the world spun and calender never moved.
But you keep marching until you get there. One guy marched for forty years until his people reached the promised land. Maybe we just have a little farther to go.
Keep the faith.
Winners never quit, and quitters never win. I don't know why that strikes a cord now, that and I just now realize that listening to the copy of the MLK speech while trying to type is not the swiftest idea I've ever had. Nope, not swift at all.
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| via Redditor - Shiskebob |
Fifty years ago, a man had a dream. He dreamt that one day, the nation of his birth would accept him as an equal. That he would judged by the content of character, by the result of his actions, and not by the mere color of the skin that random chance had bestowed upon him. That he wouldn't be consigned to second class citizenry from a country that expected him to defend it until death. And now, fifty years later, we've come farther than I think he might have ever dreamed. We have a president whose color he shared, and opportunity abounds. And yet in other ways we're still in that crowd, amidst the monuments built with the blood of forefathers, our ears ringing from his words, and still only hoping for a better tomorrow. For we are still held in the same regard as he was, as second class citizens undeserving of either justice or the benefit of the doubt by so many, as though the world spun and calender never moved.
But you keep marching until you get there. One guy marched for forty years until his people reached the promised land. Maybe we just have a little farther to go.
Keep the faith.
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