“Maybe that’s all we were. Dreamers.
And we knew the end was coming. Our end.”
Maybe that’s all we were. Dreamers. And somewhere, deep down, we knew the day would come that we would wake up and all of what we shared would be behind us. It was something we knew hovered on the horizon, but like any other mirage, we didn’t realize how close it was after all. And once it’s all said and done, the only thing that remains is memories. I have to admit, I wasn’t ready for reality to set in. I wasn’t ready for the end. Our end. But here we are, going our separate ways. I couldn’t help but wonder if we took a wrong turn somewhere. Nevertheless, the memories are all I have to hold on to.
— Sarah Doughty—
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
’Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.
Forget the politics. Forget if you’re red or blue or a different color altogether. Becoming, by Michelle Obama speaks to the part of us that’s beyond that, to the humanity at our core. This is not so much a book about being a Former First Lady of the United States, but much more so a book about the incredible and inspirational story of a girl who could have been (and could still be) any of us—a girl who grew up not having much, who faltered and second-guessed herself, and who took the long way ’round to live a remarkable life.
I took my time reading this book, letting myself cry when a particularly poignant moment washed over me, pondering the existential questions Michelle asked herself (and in extension, us), and re-reading portions that encouraged me to reflect on my own self. Continue reading “My Favorite Quotes From Becoming, By Michelle Obama”
The sun is shining, but I can’t see it.
The dirt’s been scrubbed, but I still feel it.
The room is silent, but I still hear him.
I remember the rocks shredding my skin, but he’s okay.
I remember the blood staining my legs, but he’s okay.
I remember my screams bouncing off him, but he’s okay.
And the world still turns for him.
© Jade M. Wong
“Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me:
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.”
— Emma Lazarus —
This is my first Writer’s Quote Wednesday post in more than a year, and since immigration is one of the topics at the forefront of politics nowadays, it seems fitting to share an excerpt from one of the world’s most renowned poems on immigrants. Continue reading “[Writer’s Quote Wednesday] The New Colossus”