Living Fiercely Joyful Despite Hatred

It's Saturday, August 26, 2023. I wake excited to walk over to the Lincoln Memorial, the site of the first March on Washington in 1963. It’s now 60 years later and the theme is “Not a Commemoration, A Continuation.” Not until I return home later in the afternoon do I recognize how much truth sits in the seat of those words.

Many don’t know the original event was named the “March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom”, but people do know it as the event in which Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. delivered his historic and iconic “I Have a Dream” speech. Thirty years ago, in 1993, my Dad and I were two of thousands marching through the streets of Washington, D.C. to commemorate the day. I feel Dad’s presence bringing peace and reverence with every step I take toward the place where we stood together many times before his passing.

Long before I see the crowd and the stage, I hear inspirational messages reverberating from the podium. My spirit stirs with excitement, almost a giddiness, simply because I get to be here in person with like-minded people who believe in freedom, equality, and justice for all.

Finally, my eyes are close enough to a video monitor showcasing speakers at the podium. I arrive at the Reflecting Pool continuing to take in the words of both renown and lesser-known speakers, all who give me something to reflect upon. How apt!

I’m disappointed to see a sparse crowd. Dad and I were shoulder to shoulder with folks back in ’93, saying “excuse me” every time we moved a limb. Today I don’t bump into anyone and there’s no invasion of personal space with the smaller turnout. Although I wonder why the participation is lower, I don’t stay in that mind space for long. Those who are meant to be here are, including me, and that’s a blessing.

I’m pensive, resulting in little engagement with others. I sit on a step, lean against the rail, and close my eyes. I’m so grateful for those upon whose shoulders I stand. They make it possible for me to be Fiercely Joyful.

Thinking back again to marching with Dad, I smile recalling that time was before.

• Women of color were appointed to the Supreme Court
• The United States elected its first Black President
• The United States elected its first female and Black & Asian American Vice President

When it's time to go, my soul feels full and pleased. I walk home focusing on gratitude--my list of what I’m grateful for is long. Close to the top of it is every chance I get to be in community with people who care about the collective of us.

When I arrive home, the news I hear breaks my heart. The curve in my lips yields to tears as I recall what’s happened since I marched with Dad. Targeted massacres at Pulse Nightclub, Walmart in El Paso, the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh, and, Tops Friendly Market in Buffalo to name only a few. And today? As described in the suspected perpetrator's multiple manifestos, another race-based shooting in Jacksonville, FL killing three Black people who were simply shopping at Dollar General. Reporting suggests that this hateful act being carried out on the 60th Anniversary of the March was not a coincidence.

Dad would be so proud of the progress made while stunned at the growing hate and violence. For me, finding happiness in this moment is impossible. I’m sad. Angry. Disenchanted that this continues. I’m in tears, feeling helpless to fix this. I cry because it hurts me that people hate me and others, enough to take our lives, because of the color of our skin, whom we choose to love, how we choose to identify, and to whom we choose to pray.

Before three people were killed for being Black today, I met a group of White men at the March. Their black t-shirts say, “White Men for Racial Justice.” I chat with them for a few, take a photo and smile as I walk away.

For every individual that hates me for being me, I thank the universe there are far more who value my humanity. And that’s why I won’t relinquish my hope or my joy—both are enduring and what I lean upon to continue the work that remains.

Though I’m not happy in this moment, what I know for sure is there is so much opportunity to overcome hate with love. I AM hopeful. I AM joyful. I stand on the shoulders of giants who refused to give up on equality for every human. Let us all find joy in that and continue the work.