A poem by Dr. Connie R. Shipman ©2017
From their homes, their place of safety, our ancestors were stolen. Brought to a foreign land and forced to become less than who they were born to be, they survived, they fought, and they thrived, due to the audacity of hope.
For the rights that we have today, for the freedoms we enjoy to work and live and love alongside those not of African descent, freedoms that should not have had to be a fight, but were, all were brought to bear due to the audacity of hope.
The endurance of the water hoses, the dogs, the false accusations and wrongful imprisonments, inferior schooling and substandard housing, we had the nerve to survive and even thrive, due to the audacity of hope.
We rule, we teach, we organize, we preach, and we serve as activists, still due to the audacity of hope.
Why do we dare to hope, regardless of the challenges? Because there is power, strength, viability, and endurance in not just the ideal, but the certain sincerity that exists in the audacity of hope. Selah!