Yes, We Can Change

Kiddo and I sat crisscross applesauce today with all of the other less than 10 year olds at the Hennepin County Library. I declined to sit in the last chair because the kid refused to sit in a chair. Evidently, the best seat in the house was my lap.

We were enjoying a terrific one man program by T. Mychael Rambo, a well-known local teacher, actor and singer, commemorating the birth of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. We learned about the work of Dr. King and others who fought for civil rights in our country with excerpts of the "I Have a Dream speech, stories, poems and incredibly soulful singing.

The house was packed when a family of 4 children and their grandmother arrived. I encouraged the kids to fill in around the other children. Unable to sit on the floor, their grandmother had to stand in the back.

The youngest child was a little girl, maybe 2 years old. She was wearing red velour yoga pants with a matching hoodie lined with silver hearts. Her hair was thick, soft and curly. She had stunning hazel eyes, and enviable lips that thousands of dollars of injectibles could never replicate. Her sisters and brothers had moved up to the front of the crowd so she was stuck sitting by herself.

I had chosen to sit on the last row of kids so that I wouldn't block a little kid's view. The little girl was sitting right in front of me. She tilted her head to the side, sizing up the performance. She seemed a little lost. It was a lot for a 2 year old.

I tapped her on the shoulder and invited her to share my lap. Kiddo moved over to make room. The little girl slid easily onto my lap. I hugged both of them for the rest of the show, encouraging them to clap and sing. She placed her hand in mine, and we all swayed along with the music.

When Mr. Rambo sang, Sam Cooke's "Change is Gonna Come," I cried. I was holding my child and a beautiful girl who would not have been allowed in the same room with us, let alone in my lap. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and others worked and died so that I could do what was natural: love and care for God's children equally and openly.

Our country has changed.

I looked around. I was surrounded by young, old, black, white, Christian, Muslim and Jewish people.

Minnesota has changed.

Growing up in the land of 10,000 lakes, most everybody looked like me, white, middle class, Christian. I always found this unnerving. We had exactly 4 people of color in our entire high school and 1 Jewish person. It seemed unnatural to me, so I left for college on the east coast to experience the world as it is: diverse. Eventually, I minored in African-American studies.

After the performance, I stood up and put my shoes, careful not to flash any crack. See former post, "Butt Crack is Whack." I turned around and the grandmother said to me, "Thank you for taking care of my babies."

I smiled and said, "She couldn't see."

"Well, thank you."

"Oh, there's always room for one more on this lap," I said, slapping my thighs.

She smiled and said, "I hope you have a blessed day."

Yes, we can.

And yes, we did.