For the past two-and-a-half years, I have read The Northern Star and, like most, I am drawn to the comics and the letters to the editor. I could quote until I’m blue in the face, using wisdom from any number of great minds, but that would accomplish little.
In the end, I must stand or fall on my words because I’m the one here—now. Following models of my predecessors, in writing this letter I face a choice, to attack and prescribe action or to defend a position. I choose neither. What would I have you do?
Truth is not for any one man or possessed solely by any one man. It runs much deeper than in the precepts of any one thing.
We have become complacent in our turmoil.
We have set times for our standardized “revolution.”
We fancy ourselves crusaders on white horses for the just cause. It’s very easy to do, but what happens when the flags and banners come down?
Do you speak for equality between the races then meet individuals with skepticism and scathing glances behind a closed door?
To praise one, condemn the other.
Our rectitude becomes selective, and we slowly become that which we abhor. If this is the price of victory, then it is too high and saying “I have a dream” means nothing. A world that stands on it, stands on sand.