My brother just called me. He was on his way to work. He is one of those Americans who toil seven days a week just to make ends meet. Because of that he has very little extra time and has not been able to volunteer. But today his story made clear to me that there are many ways to help this campaign. And that each and every one of us can make a difference.
I come from a family of four mixed race children, we were raised single handedly by our mother, a naturalized citizen who came to this country 42 years ago. My family on my father's side has been here since 1620 and includes ancestors who travelled the glades and valleys of the northeast long before the Europeans touched foot on this soil. Despite my "pedigree" I have not always been treated like an American. Due to the color of my skin, the shape of my eyes and my features, I have sometimes been treated like a foreigner.
I never realized that I had carried inside of me a lifetime of hard feelings about being different, I had shoved them to the side and ignored them just so I could get through each day. My sister was turned away from a friend's birthday party because she was too dark. Children followed me home from school taunting me and throwing things. And my brother was dealt an extra heavy hand of punishment, not only for looking different, but because he was gay. Thursday night the feelings came back for a fleeting moment, and Thursday night they were lifted from my shoulders by a man speaking from a podium in Denver Colorado. As it turns out, there were others who felt the same. and some of the people who were touched by that night might surprise you.
There is a lunchroom in a factory where everyone gathers, my brother is there and so are his friends, mostly others of like mind. They eat together and talk about their lives, their families, and the woes and joys of everyday life. They also speak of politics, usually in hushed tones because there are people there who do not agree with them.
Yesterday that all changed. Three Republicans walked in. Decent human beings all three, men who have worked hard and contributed and taken care of their families. But three men who could never find it in themselves to vote outside of their party ticket... until now.
My brother broached the subject first and what ensued was a heart to heart talk about the condition of the country and the place we are headed together. These men were touched by what happened in Denver. These men were moved, so much so, that they had changed their minds.
They saw the America which could be, they saw that we are ONE people, they saw that we can rise above our differences, and to paraphrase Obama, that heart and inspiration and hope need not be the illusion the cynics would like us to believe it is. They heard the call. They knew in their bones that we have this chance to start getting it right.
I canvas, and some days it is hard to get up and go out my front door, but my brother's story proved to me that the way we will start taking this country back IS one person at a time. Not only through political activities but through the simple act of speaking to each other. It will not always work, but that doesn't matter, what matters is that we have begun a dialogue.
And for me, I will remind myself everytime complacency begins to creep in, and I feel that what I do makes no difference, that there are possibilities we have not yet reached and that, to dream of, and work for better days is a noble thing. We are all important, each and every one of us.