But Yet For a Moment

Thank you Amanda Gorman

Moment: 1. A brief, indefinite interval of time.

The day was Wednesday, January the 20th; the scene was another peaceful transfer of power, except that it wasn’t. In essence, the day was two weeks removed from one of the darkest days in U.S. history when insurrectionist attempted to overthrow the American government. 

For a moment, under the protection of 25,000 national guardsmen and women, America breathed. Though this was an inauguration and the beginning of a new presidential administration, It yet still existed in a vacuum of time. It was a moment. A moment endures, but for the parameters in which senses perceive it. A yearning for continuance is not a given but is forging by the connection to grace inspired destiny, drive inspired by vibrancy

vibrancy: the state of being full of energy and life.

“The vibrancy of the city center”

  • striking brightness of color.

          “the color is luxurious in its richness and vibrancy”

  • strength and resonance of sound.

            “The vibrancy of her voice fills up the room”

Definitions from Oxford Languages

In the frame of a petite 22-year-old, young Harvard Educated woman of color, that voice at this moment was that of Amanda Gorman reciting her poem “The Hill We Climb. Through her words existed the potential for the moment to survive past the circumference of the immediate circumstances. Her poetry’s voice, “The Hill We Climb” articulated the hope beyond January the 6th, the day that further energized her halfway through writing for this moment. She reminded us of the spirituality of the moment through the tongue of Scripture.

“Scripture tells us to envision that everyone shall sit under their own vine and fig tree And no one shall make them afraid If we’re to live up to our own time Then victory won’t lie in the blade But in all the bridges we’ve made That is the promised glade.” The Hill We Climb, Amanda Gorman

From Dr. Martin Luther King Jr, Rosa Parks, John Lewis, Medgar Evers, to Fredrick Douglass, etc., this inauguration poem would speak in exultations of generations’ declarations that Democracy is America’s best hope for racial and human equity in the form of human Government  

“We’ve seen a force that would shatter our nation rather than share it Would destroy our country if it meant delaying Democracy And this effort very nearly succeeded But while Democracy can be periodically delayed

it can never be permanently defeated.” The Hill We Climb, Amanda Gorman

The ebbs and flows of the “building of a more perfect union” is no inditement of the oppressed but only defines their veracity of understanding that Democracy delayed is not Democracy defeated. Amanda Gorman encapsulated the entirety and purpose of persisting in the struggle.

“The major problem of life is learning how to handle the costly interruptions. The door that slams shut, the plan that got sidetracked, the marriage that failed. Or that lovely poem that didn’t get written because someone knocked on the door.”

― Martin Luther King Jr.

Thank God that Amanda’s Poem was not interrupted or delayed because it met the moment and defined it as well. Now, where America goes from here is yet to be determined, “But yet for a moment.” 

Kevin Robinson Executive Director of Accord1

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2 Responses to “But Yet For a Moment”
  1. Angela Sims says:

    I am, myself, somewhat of a writer. And in comparison to Miss Gordon’s words, mine also are transcribed from a Higher Authority. As I stood there watching her delivery, mixed emotions coarsed through my circulatory system, becoming my pulse: envy, awe, recognition, respect and then pride. She did not avert her gaze. In fact, although her intentional gaze very well COULD have become piercingly impunitive, digging into the soiled consciences of those there that bore blood stains on their hands, her words alone were daggered enough. Each sentax honed with skill and delivered with grace. I saw her calm hands raise slightly and sway in the frigid air around her, removing some of its chill, recycling some of its stagnation. She stood proud and unbothered.
    That is the new hashtag we must adopt. The submissive stance Dr. King suggested has never been met with a returned diplomacy, allowing us to co-habitate peacably. The intensity of militance of the B.P. Party and even more frenetically forceful beliefs of Nation of Islam have been used as accusatory ammunition AGAINST us. And so, as we’ve slipped away into a cesspool of self-disregard, our behavior silently chanting the very slogan they branded into our psyches from the beginning: Black Lives Don’t Matter. Every pimp slap, every stiletto clack, every hollow point finding its home in a brother’s heart echoing that chant and reverberating across the terrain of this conglomoration of states that will never be our inheritance.
    “Black Lives Don’t Matter Black Lives Don’t Matter”
    So now, to present the exact opposite sentiment, as a most basic plea, in hopes to stir recognition at first, implore contrition for the blood stains on OUR memories and then maybe incite an overwhelming outpouring of acceptance is just…. sad. Redundant and sad.
    How about, stop waiting for an apology. Stop asking for (OR marching, protesting and rioting for) equality. We were ALWAYS unequal. From the start. From God’s decisionary creation. It has just become inverted through the forced transplantation and insidious systemic (AND systematic) sbuse of our ancestors by our captors. And our royal lineage has never again been reclaimed. By any of us. Why? The “poisoning of the well” has worked- too well.
    God has ALWAYS sent warriors, to render aid and to rescue all of us still standing and to lead us back out ; an Exodus- not neccessarily of the geographical trap we were deposited into but more importantly, out of this cunningly crafted yet relentlessly self-sustained condition by which we voluntarily remain ensnared.
    We constantly are screaming for respect. “Re (again) spect (visualize)” How can I see (or visualize) you AGAIN if I cant even visualize myself because of the inverted image in my mental mirror? We need to gaze at ourselves (again and again) through that translucent reflection in each others eyes . And this time, do it with genuine love and concern and with the anticipatory pride one initially feels for a child. We need to repair that reflected image, setting it back into its intended position: upright and unfragmented. And then our focus will soften and will include the young (not in age, but in newness to us) man or young woman whose eyes we were using as a reflectory tool to better recognize ourselves. Our vision will double and then realign, going in and out of focal sharpness until it overlaps and we see ourselves as they and they as we and then suddenly, becoming our brother’s keeper is no longer a painful encumbrance. It will be succinctly NECESSARY. And healing will transpire.
    #ProudAndUnbothered

    • Hello Angela, can you tell me more about yourself and your ministry? Are you affiliated with, and are you connected to an organization and do you have a social media footprint? If you are, could you forward me any site address of your affiliated organization?

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