I HAVE A DREAM

I love wearing my John Kerry pin. I'm so used to it now, I forget it's on my collar until someone remarks on it. That rarely happens at work. But today, for example, as I stopped into my neighborhood convenience store on my way home from work, a stockboy noticed it and said in obviously English-as-a-second-language, "You voting for Kerry, good!" I said, "You bet. You?" He gave me a thumbs up. This got the cashier's attention, and he said, "Me too!" A customer said, "Where'd you get the pin?" I explained that my beloved nephew is (oops, I almost gave away his position) on staff with the Kerry campaign in Washington, D.C. and that he gave it to me the last time I was in Washington on business. We had a neat little political pow-wow there in the 7-11, two customers, two cashiers, and a stockboy, bemoaning the fact that it was hard to find Democratic campaign materiel in Dallas. From my purse I produced Kerry bumper stickers I ordered from BuzzFlash and passed them out to everyone. All of us except one of the cashiers headed out into the parking lot to apply them.

It wasn't until I got into my car (did I mention I drive a hybrid? I highly recommend it) that I thought about what a motley crew Republicans would think we were: one middle-aged white lady, a perfectly respectable businesswoman now but with a history of anti-war and civil rights activism in her youth; a young Nigerian, an American-born older Hispanic, an Iraqi and an elderly Pakistani, all men...but all of us proud Americans, all serious about our responsibilities as citizens and prizing our American values and way of life. And all voting for Kerry.

When The Sage and I were young newlyweds and dreaming about having a family someday, we would talk about Martin's dream of one day seeing children of all races and creeds working hand in hand, and I would fantasize about multi-colored children dancing joyfully in a circle, all appreciating the wonders and beauties and possibilities of life and and of one another. Over the years that dream has often seemed misty and naive and even puerile. But then there are moments when I connect with strangers and rediscover the wonder of our common humanity. And the dream doesn't seem so impossible.