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statistic or the topic
of another
civil rights movement.
He is grey-haired
with sad eyes,
sitting in an office
watching students
pass by, wondering
if they feel as blessed
as he did when he
started his education
at a university--
an opportunity
that didn't come easy.
He stands at
the front of class
rooms, talking
about different
skins and hearts
and pasts and
tongues,
wondering if
they're listening--
Are you listening?
Because we can
walk these halls
and earn our
degrees, and say,
"Look at what we
learned!"
But what did
we learn?
If we can move
through these halls
without a glance
at the faces
walking with us,
then did we
learn anything
about living?
This is practice--
practice for what
living looks like.
Look up--
are you learning
from her? From
him? From the
difference?
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