Our generation was born into a world of promise. We were told we inherited the world. Anything we wanted could be ours. From the moment we were dragged into the light and we breathed our first, we were told we can be whatever we wanted. We were giddy in our excitement, blinded by our innocence.
We could breathe.
We were taught about the birth of our freedoms and the rise of our nation. Told of the promises of our founding fathers, and the freedom we won from their struggle. We inherited the dreams of great men, dripping with the promise of a better world. A world which we were going to enjoy.
We could breathe.
We watched, scared and unsure, as the towers fell. We cried with our nation as we watched our world shift before our eyes. Watched our President cry on live television as he told us that the world isn't as perfect as we were promised. We licked our wounds and watched as politicians and diplomats tried to make sense of the terrors lurking in the shadows.
We began to choke.
We watched as so many innocent lives were taken, far too soon. High school students at Columbine. College Students at Virginia Tech. Children at Sandy Hook. Shocked. Horrified. How? Why? Who could answer these questions? We wanted to start a dialogue. We wanted to keep this from happening again. We were told we were too young. Our views too ideal. How could we possibly have a solution when better men and women have tried?
We sputter and wheeze.
We watched as our government attacked itself. Content to do nothing, they spend their time attacking each other and fighting for control of a government that is crippled by its own design. We demand attention, we demand results. Again, we are told to keep our heads down. Trust the system. This is how the world works. Let it run its course. O Tempora! O Mores!
Our words catch in our throats.
A man rises. He acknowledges us and the power of our generation. Recognizes the potential we have for true impact on the world. He promises us hope. He promises change. Change we can participate in.
We were given a voice.
We called for equality. We watched as our friends and countrymen were refused the same rights and privileges that we enjoy, simply because of the life they lead. Men and women were treated like less than citizens because of who they loved. We fought for them. We joined in rallies and protests. We raised our voices, and began to finally see the system start to listen. We were making progress.
The pressure began to lift.
Then we fell. We watched as the justice system began to fail.
We couldn't breathe.
We had been the generation promised the dream of the great Martin Luther King Jr. We fought to keep the dialogue going. We wanted change. But now the justice system failed us. Men were robbed of justice because of racial tensions. Men were killed in the streets, filmed by bystanders, with no justice offered.
We can't breathe.
Why? How?
We can't breathe.
Who can answer these questions?
We can't breathe.
Where was the world we were promised? Where are the freedoms we were told we had? Where is the justice? The understanding? The change?!
We can't breathe.
This isn't the end, my friends. Our generation has witnessed so much. We have shed so many tears. We have stood, shell-shocked by reality, and watched as that new reality sunk in. But change is coming. We can't trust others to just give us that change. We need to start it ourselves.
We will breathe again.
Our generation must start the process. Now is the time for anger, yes. But it is also the time for action. Pay attention to the facts. Don't be led by the media or by partisan politics. Educate yourselves. Ask questions. Strive, every day, to see the change happen in this world.
We will breathe again.
One day, our generation will be in control of the nation. It is already starting. The greatest source of social change is in you and me, together. Let us join our voices. Press on. Bring the dream from the ether into reality. Charge forward with that dream, with our ideals on a brazen banner. We will see a better tomorrow. It starts today.
We. Will. Breathe. Again.
In the Roman Forum, public speeches were given from a platform known as the "Rostra", from the plural of "rostrum" (a prow of a warship), because of the six ship prows that hung from it. The speeches given on that platform, by famous speakers like Cicero and Cato, still ring in the air. My aim is to make this blog my "Rostrum", preferring the singular until I earn the right to the plural.
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