Hello friends,
The opening theme to Oregon Trail II popped into my head the other day. It's a triumphant piece of MIDI music, a classic of the mid '90s. Fitting for a game that came in a wooden box, it being the 25th Anniversary Limited Edition and all. I loved the game, which featured live-action characters who could talk with you about what life was like on the trail. And when I got to the end - which didn't happen often - the real challenge began. I, the player, was responsible for steering my wagon down the Columbia River to our final destination. Rocks and rapids were the dangers here, and they were plentiful.
Rivers and trails are such cliche metaphors for the timeline of a life because they are perfect representations. Rivers especially, the way they so firmly cut into the earth. It requires an immense amount of effort to change the flow of a river - or so it seems. But as some wise sage once said, You can never step in the same river twice. Every pebble or creature that enters the water affects the whole thing.
Being back in various school buildings over the past few months, I am remembering how lovely the school calendar is. It is a river too: we enter the water in the fall and see smiling faces on people and walls. Further down the river, everything is orange and black; a little farther down, we are talking about food and family; farther still, we celebrate the human spirit's perseverance through the darkest days. It continues in the new year with Valentine's Day and Black History Month, leprechauns and Easter bunnies. Then spring arrives and we arrive at our destination, celebrating a new life that has been given to us by another year of education, both academic and social. But looking back on the journey, we remember that this year, vibrant and terrifying and fresh, shares some connection to all prior years. We are new, but not detached from who we were. That is important; we exist in conversation with the years that sang before ours. These holidays serve as touchstones to the past.
Last week, our nation observed our newest federal holiday, Juneteenth. I'm fascinated by the journey this day took from inception to cultural touchstone. From one perspective, it feels like it just happened. It was a day celebrated by segments of the population, then in 2020 the whole country rose up and declared Black Lives Matter, and a year later we had a new federal holiday. That is...incredible, I think. Amazing? Positive, for sure.
Of course, there is another perspective: the one that sees how hard people worked to make this a holiday. It did not just appear on the calendar one day, it was not born in 2020. Here's where I stumble a bit, being new to the holiday as I am. But, if you'll permit this white kid from a Border State to share some thoughts: that struggle, too, is quintessentially American. All of the people who've ever done anything worth a damn in this nation have heard, "That's impossible" and replied, like some movie hero, "Watch me."
And so, I must insert myself into this holiday, contribute something to incorporate it into the American narrative. How else can I be part of a diverse yet united community? This is no longer a holiday for some Americans; it is a holiday for all Americans. I reckon that it chafes the gatekeepers and pearl clutchers, those who would hold tight to what is theirs and those who would cut their own nose. But they do not concern me. They will catch up or be left behind.
Juneteenth, I think, is not just about the horrors of slavery. It is not just about the delays of communication in the 19th century. These are essential elements, but alone they keep us firmly rooted in the past, the bad old days. That is no place for a holiday of this caliber! This day is a celebration that the world changed and is changing still. What we thought would be a permanent condition is no longer the reality we are experiencing. We rejoice that we are not the mistakes or suffering of our ancestors. We exist in the glorious, messy now. And, also, once our celebration has ended and we see the problems of our current state, we need not accept it. Should we have the gumption and compassion necessary, we can fix our current mistakes and relieve our current suffering. Our destination is Freedom, and we will get there together.
Love,
Paul