Forty-five short years ago
I sat at my TV
And in that grainy image,
I witnessed tyranny.
I saw the dogs and hoses
And the men at either end.
I was ashamed at what
I witnessed
It seemed so un-American.

I thought about the patriots who died for liberty
And those who’d given up
their lives to end their slavery.
After all that had been sacrificed, was this how it would end?
That’s when I knew injustice, when I was only 10.

Sunday morning children,
in their finest Sunday dress
Came to the very threshold,

of those who had oppressed.
They faced the dogs and hoses on that bright and fateful day
Made themselves a sacrifice, atonement they would pay.

I thought about the sailors
who died on board the Maine
And I thought about the doughboys on the fields of France were slain.
After all that had been sacrificed, was this how it would end?
That’s when I learned what courage was, when I was
only 10.

Today our world trembles
from the burden of its hate
Would those who’d sacrificed their lives and spirits vindicate.
Everywhere are people crying,

“Someone set us free”
So we can reap the promises
of life and liberty.

I thought about our fathers, who vanquished Nazi hoards
I thought about our mothers who were left to man the homes.
And I think about my brothers, who died in Vietnam
And I think about those
children, as sacrificial lambs.

Forty-five short years ago I would have never believed
A black man could be president and lead us to be free.
From war and hate and prejudice, from tyranny and greed
As those Sunday morning
children did … on the black-and-
white TV.