Posted on January 21, 2013 by The Director of Digital Media
Dan (Year '10) shared the following reflection on Facebook... his writing is poignant as usual!
Dear MLK: from one flawed human being to another flawed human being who changed the world – how did you do it? How did you see a different reality when others said there’s no chance that it will come true? Did you lean on others at that moment? Maybe you trusted your faith?
Every year I see your “I have a dream” speech on your birthday. God, how you believed in that dream, and hundreds of thousands of people believed in it with you, and together you changed the world, and I grew up in a reality in the United States that now has an African American president, a reality that you didn’t get to see, but bequeathed to us.
I’m also formulating a dream. I’m still not sure what it is, because it’s coming to me in flashes, but it’s certainly coming together, somewhere in my head. God – how difficult it is to even formulate it, seems like for every reason that I have to build it, 20 reasons arise that it’s not worth it.
Did you know that tomorrow I’m going to vote in an Israeli election for the first time in my life? Did you know that it was the dream of my grandmother and grandfather, who, like African Americans in the U.S., suffered from persecution in Slovakia? But how can I take my actions from voting to “making real the promises of Democracy” that you spoke about? How do I leave my kids a better state than the one that my grandparents left me?
I have no idea, yet. But when I do have an idea, I hope I have the balls, like you, to shout it from the mountain tops. The people here are worth it. For the past few weeks I’ve spoken to dozens of Israelis, each with their own opinion about the coming elections. But even those who disagree with me do it from a deep connection to the difficult reality here and to the Israeli story. My dream, involves somehow connecting their story and my story to create a better Israeli story.
You know what? Forget shouting things from the mountain tops. There is too much shouting here. Until next year, when I and your speech meet again, I promise to listen to the people who live here. Maybe my dream is with them, and I have a feeling I’m not alone. If you and my grandparents dreamed, and fulfilled, I don’t have the luxury not to.
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