Yesterday, my SNL, suggested we go to a public art installation that he saw featured in the Washington Post. A couple from the area put up large chalk boards, left some chalk and encouraged passers-by to write. It seemed an interesting thing to do on a day that was warm and sunny.
All the way down I tried to think of what to write. Yet when I arrived, all I could do was read. Some of the offerings were outlandish and grand; but others were so sad and compelling that I wished I could hug the writers. "I want to go home". "I want to become a lawyer and pay my family's debt". "I wish my father would accept my sexuality and be proud of me". My own concerns--of the day at least--seemed small in comparison.
Just as my heart was breaking, I heard Repeat and Shortie yelling "Come see what I wrote". And there in the painstaking writing efforts of a six and four year old was "I want to visit another galaxy" and "I want to go to the Aquarium". Children. Wonderfully sweet,clearly loved children.
May we all get to do those things we most want and need to do long, long before we die...
and may we all come to believe that our lives matter ... because the way I see it ...they do.