To return to the topic of hope--the story about the black man in jail isn't first rate, I realize that. At the same time, for some reason, I have to put it out there. For the simple reason that it's a story that needs to be told. And I have to tell it as a white suburban mom, without any hip-hop stylings, because that's who I am. This man is losing hope; here's what he grabs onto: one happy memory, then another. And one person in his life who made a difference--the only one. Grabbing onto those tenuous threads, he weaves a rope, the only rope he's got, and he starts climbing.
"Only connect," E.M. Forster said. But sometimes we have to connect to ourselves first.
No comments:
Post a Comment