Poets and Busboys

Last Sunday, I went with a good friend to Poets and Busboys in Northwest D.C. and had a great time listening to incredibly talented, passionate people speak their truths.  One by one, poets and writers rose, walked to a dimly lit stage, and spoke in front of a crowd of black and white and Hispanic and Asian and young and old and men and women, about 75, and spilled unbridled emotion.  There was joy and sadness and love and hate.  A major theme, though, was anger.  Anger at government, at 'white' society, the 'men' that have kept everyone down, all of those people who work within 'the system,' and support the 'status quo.'  Honestly, I found it hard to take.  If the anger had been based upon something other than anti-establishment angst at humankind, it would have hit home, and I could have understood more where it all was coming from, but most of the hard words came out of a general malcontent, irritable, affect.  In the past days, I have seen over and over coverage of the 23-year-old man who was shot because he was white and the aggressors were bored.

High profile hate crimes towards the historical majority take place frequently, and it remains taboo in our society to question whether our emphasis on equality and openness for one segment of the population has tipped the scales so far that we have become blind to true equality, blind to an entitled racism that persists in a historical minority.  As we celebrate the incredible leap forward that the march on Washington afforded our civilization 50 years ago, I hope that all of us can think about peace for all, the end of prejudice and racism for all, and begin to think about the present and future, instead of always feeling angry or apologetic for the past.  Poverty continues, as well as racism, bigotry, and sexism.  I'm sure many people will disagree with my simplification of the situation, but I think it is like any other relationship we have in life.  Until we can forget the past, or forgive for the past, for betrayal, or for harsh words,  the violence or hatred or bigotry that scarred us, we cannot get to a new place.  It's true also for 'macro' race and gender relations in America.  We have to get to a place where we can separate the past from the present.  Many would say that we aren't there yet, but we have to pick a point when we say 'the future starts now, horrible things have happened, but this is now, and that was then.'