The Native American dream catcher pictured above. “As its name suggests, it attracts and then catches in its web all kinds of dreams and thoughts. The beautiful dreams then pass through the threads and slide down the feathers to reach the sleeper and comfort him. Bad dreams, on the other hand, are trapped in the web and then destroyed, burned by the daylight.”

Perhaps that’s what we could use right about now, but instead, we are dealing with a dream deferred. 

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up

Like a raisin in the sun?

Or fester like a sore—

And then run?

Does it stink like rotten meat?

Or crust and sugar over—

like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags

like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

This was the first poem Langston Hughes wrote, penned at the age of fourteen in 1951.

In 2024 it is still a poignant question. What does happen to a dream deferred?

Martin had a dream.

“It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked insufficient funds.

But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt.

We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. And so we’ve come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice….

So even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream. I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal…

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream today.”

On the night of November 5^th, many of us were faced with our dreams being deferred. We had hoped that our nation had finally come to the next stop in the line of progression. Perhaps we had become comfortable with a Black man having been voted into the seat of the Presidency of the United States twice in a row. Perhaps we had allowed our hopes to soar with the promotion of our first Black female Justice of the Supreme Court, and our first female Black/Asian Vice President. Perhaps we just became a little too comfortable with appearances.

It seemed that we were on a roll and that the momentum was on our side. After all, we had “white dudes for Harris,” and former Republicans for Harris, etc. How could we possibly be so wrong? Those dreams for a better America slipped right out of our hands as we watched in horror as they ran headlong into a brick wall.

Not only did a twice impeached, 34-count felon, racist, misogynist, xenophobe who attempted to overthrow our democracy sweep the board of electoral votes, but for the first time in decades, a Republican candidate won the popular vote, and by a hefty margin of over 5 million.  

Obviously, the content of the character didn’t matter, and we’re still left to contemplate what did.  

This IS who we are with the covers pulled back.

It’s who we were during the enslavement of African people. It’s who we were during Jim Crow on the heels of the hope of Reconstruction. It’s who we were when white nationalist churches announced from their pulpits family picnic gatherings featuring the lynching of a Negro (photo opportunities and souvenir body parts made available following this coveted event). It’s who we were when 4 little girls were blown to bits in the basement of a church. It’s who we were when fire hoses and police dogs were turned on Black Americans fighting for their right to merely be seen as human.

So why are we surprised when we have a history of playing political whack-a-mole? The strategies may change but the objective remains the same: keep the money, power, and privilege in the hands of “white” America.

So, while I thank God for our allies and those who stand with us, I am not by any means out of step with those around us who share the president-elect’s sentiments, whether they be just as racially blatant or buried deeper below the surface, it really doesn’t matter, the results are the same.

We just talk about moving on, when the reality is that the majority of this nation has made it very clear that they DON’T want to move forward after all.

They’ve let us know with no uncertainty who they really are below the surface.

Welcome back to our reality, which has never changed. It only gave the illusion of change to the desperately hopeful. And this is why we mourn a dream deferred. We thought maybe, just maybe, we could turn that corner.

We were prepared to celebrate the hope of America and what it COULD be, and what the Constitution promised. But we were once again slapped in the face and spit upon and denied it.

We were reminded once again, “We’ll destroy the Constitution before we allow that to happen. And here is the guy who is willing to do it, and we’ll hide behind Christian principles while he gets it done.”

So we’re left with the feeling of being stabbed in the back, the feeling of betrayal, the feeling of not being sure who you can trust. It’s that sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. It’s when you wanted to believe something so bad that you could literally taste it and then have the rug pulled out from under you at the last possible moment as you see your American dreams fade into the distance.

It’s what Frederick Douglass expressed in his speech, “What to the slave is YOUR Fourth of July?”

We mourn a shameful defeat of what many of our people fought and died for because they loved what America could become for the generations that would come after them. They proved their love for America on the battlefields even while America did not love them in return.

Tuesday night was our check-in with a reality we had hoped was behind us. It was our wake-up call. So, thanks a lot America, your true colors are still showing who you are.

And don’t even get me started on those of us from the minority and immigrant and female demographic who should have known better. 

That mental conditioning is a hell of a drug.

But we will still refuse to go back. We will continue to fight for the dream. We owe it to our ancestors, we owe it to each other, we owe it to ourselves, and we owe it to our future generations. We keep our eyes on the prize, and we keep fighting to keep our dreams alive. A dream deferred is only a temporary status.