The Red Sea Crossing

I may have this all wrong.

But, from where I stand on the shore, it looks something like Moses and the Red Sea parting…in reverse.

Instead of the Red Sea parting to make way for the people, it’s the people parting to make way for the Red Sea.

Or, maybe it’s how, Native American Veteran, Nathan Phillips, imagined it.

Perhaps Mr. Phillips imagined, as he walked toward that crowd, toward the Lincoln Memorial, that the crowd would see him, and understand what he represented, and they would gracefully bow and part for him; making a sea of people on either side as he marched up the stairs to the Lincoln Memorial, and then he would turn and the sea of people below would roar with applause. 

That didn’t happen.

He bumped, and pushed and beat his drum through the sea of people that drowned the sound of his drum, rather than acknowledge his presence.

Then, alas, some boy walking down the steps with his pals from school, probably not paying attention to where he was going because he was too busy texting or looking at the girls…bumped or walked straight into the path of Mr. Phillips.

Mr. Phillips didn’t see a wide-eyed teen, but five hundred years of oppression. He saw his purpose, his march, his reason for being there, interrupted by…white.

 He focused his gaze straight into the boy’s face and pressed forward until only inches separated the swinging stick from beating the boy, instead of the drum.

The drum grew louder, the crowd grew quieter.

The teen stood frozen, backed against the steps.

It seems he wasn’t sure what to do. He tried staring down the elder. But then, he looked down, looked away, tried a straight face and lifted a smile. Nothing seemed to work. He was frozen in place.

The crowd started doing what crowds do, from grade school to the grave…they look for excitement, ache for a fight.

The media, saw red…not skin, but hat; and started a feeding frenzy.

The demonic-rats didn’t bother to check the facts. They simply saw red and their lust for trampling Trump led the attack. It didn’t matter that the victim was a group of kids from a Catholic School. Blood is blood and they wanted more, no matter where it was from.

After all, their appetites were ravenous since folks were tiring of feeding on the wall.

Perhaps, if the young man had simply stepped aside, we’d never have heard of any of this. More than likely, if he wasn’t wearing that, Make America Great Again, hat, we wouldn’t have heard of it at all.

Any thinking person should be able to see, that for the most part, the mainstream media has gone mad. Red, yellow, black or white… or blue or red, should be able to tell the difference between wrong and right.

Let’s forget for a moment the people, the person, the party, the color, and…dream.

Dream that today is the day our nation rises up and lives out the true meaning of its creed, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.”

Dream that today is the day our little children live in a nation where they are not judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

Dream that today is the day when all of God’s children are able to sing with new meaning: “My country, ‘tis of thee sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim’s pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring!”

Dream that today this is true.

And this self-evident truth will set us free.

Can you dream it, can you see it? Can you hear it?

Let’s come together, and let freedom ring.

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