The face of God is the face of the weakest amongst us,

The face of our most oppressed,

The face of those we do not even see.

This is the question; what is seen?

For once we see, we need to act.

Once we act and make it better,

We must change who wears the face ever forward.

“Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises,
Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears; and sometime voices,
That, if I then had waked after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open, and show riches
Ready to drop upon me; that, when I waked,
I cried to dream again.”

When Caliban speaks these words in Shakespeare’s Tempest, he is longing for the sweet memory of his, and by extension, our dreams. Dreams of magic, of beautiful music, of riches, of voices whispering to us in our slumbers.

I have dreams.
Dreams of a just world.
A world in which
The color of our skin,
The birthplace of our ancestors,
Our gender,
Our sexual attractions,
Our religious beliefs,
Our wealth at birth
Do not diminish our ability
To live a just and equitable life.

Less than a month ago, we lost two great social justice leaders: CT Vivian and John Lewis. Both were ministers, and both were instrumental in leading the non-violent movement towards civil rights. But I worry that the dreams that they fought for, the rights that, in the case of both Vivian and Lewis, were paid for with blood, are being eroded. They are being lost to a society that believes in grievance more than justice.

But I am listening,
I am listening for the voices that will carry on these dreams.
Who will take on the mantle of leadership on a national stage?
Who will have the vision to bring justice to the forefront?
Who will give voice to the dreams of these iconic leaders now numbered among the ancestors?

Miranda, again from Shakespeare’s Tempest, and ever the optimist, says during the course of the play:

“O, brave new world
that has such people in’t!”

The voices of justice are here, marching in the streets, leading protests, writing in braver spaces, speaking truths for this age. We just need to listen, listen deeply, and give them a respect born of the work they are doing.

Indeed, this is a brave new world, filled with incredible people doing the work of our ancestors.

From the Editorial Guideline page, a poem:

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Make us laugh.

Make us cry.

Make us rage at the inequities of the world.

But do not bore us.

For the world does not have time for that shit…