I was sitting down in my room the other day, reflecting. I was on the verge of breaking down and crying. Sometimes, it all adds up and it eats away at you. The last month has been depressing to say the least. First, we heard the tragic news that Senator Paul Wellstone (D-Minn.) died. One of the last great men in the senate, Wellstone was part of a dying breed – a politician who stood by his beliefs no matter what the cost. Then, the Republicans took over Congress in what was a humiliating defeat for the Democrats. It was a scary thought: Bush at the helm with majorities in both houses. And in the next couple years, Bush will have the chance to appoint a right-wing fundamentalist judiciary.
Everyday I hear about another Muslim whose civil rights are violated. Big Brother is back and in demand. Everyday, I hear an Evangelical leader (Fallwell, Robertson, Graham, etc.) saying my religion is intrinsically evil and that we as Muslims don’t belong in this country.
It tears you apart and you feel like you’re fighting a battle that never ends. You feel alone and sometimes hopelessness creeps in. You begin to wonder if there’s a point anymore.
All I do know is that somewhere along the way, it all went wrong. Somewhere along the way, we forgot that we are all in this together – that we are all humans. When did we stop dreaming? When did we stop hoping that a different, more fair, more just world was possible? When did we start accepting the unacceptable? When did apathy become a way of life? When did we stop fighting for what we believed in?
Just the other day, I was listening to “Imagine” by John Lennon. Perhaps it was lucky for Lennon that he didn’t live to see the unfettered materialism and excess of the ’80s. He didn’t live to see the day when CEO’s would be making tens of millions of dollars while average stockholders paid the price. He didn’t live to see the day when companies like Enron and Arthur Andersen would cheat the American people out of their hard-earned savings. He didn’t live to see the new Bush doctrine of permanent war. He didn’t live to see the day when the government would gain unprecedented power to know what we say, do and think in private. It’s sad. Lennon had a dream of a just world. And look how far we’ve gone from that dream.
Lennon was shot dead. But he wasn’t the only one. John F. Kennedy, the president who, for all his faults, gave the American people hope and inspired them with his vision. Shot dead. Malcolm X, brave enough to stand up against the government, giving black people across the country hope that one day they would free themselves from the shackles of oppression. Shot dead. Martin Luther King Jr. had a dream, too. But he was shot dead before his time. His dream of equality for black people still hasn’t come true. Last month it was Wellstone – a product of the radical `60s – who died a sudden death. Wellstone never stopped believing that a more just America was possible.
The least we can do is honor the dead heroes of our great country. But, how many of us do? Who, today, is carrying the dream of Lennon, Malcolm X, King, Kennedy and Wellstone?
The America that I live in today is not the America I was raised believing in. The American dream is becoming a nightmare for too many – for the over 40 million Americans without health insurance, for the forgotten minorities in the inner cities, for the American Muslims who are being harassed, persecuted and even jailed by Ashcroft and the Department of Injustice.
When my father came here more than 25 years ago from Egypt, he came because America was the land of hope, the land of opportunity and the place where dreams could come true with hard work and a bit of luck. Now, people all over the world see America in a different light. Our country has become synonymous with war, aggression, oppression and bloodshed.
I have lost faith in the government of my country. They could care less about all of this. The political and economic elites have their money and their power. They don’t care about the average American on the street. They don’t care about the broken down neighborhoods and the neglected public schools. They don’t care about the growing inequality between the rich and the poor. All they seem intent on doing is pumping more and more money into the war machine fanning the flames of hatred everywhere.
Those who know me know that I’ve always been optimistic, sometimes even naive. I worry that I’m becoming more and more pessimistic with every passing day. Everyday I have to fight that feeling of resignation. But there is still a glimmer of hope. We can’t change the political elites who rule this country, but we can certainly change ourselves. The hope is with us – the students. We have a choice; we can choose to throw our idealism away and accept the status quo, or we can dedicate our lives and our talents to the struggle for justice and equality. It is not an easy choice. The struggle I am speaking of is not an easy one.
As students and concerned citizens, we have a duty to help our country become what we always dreamed it could be – a beacon of light for all the world. We have been blessed with intelligence and opportunity, and therefore we have an added responsibility on our shoulders. We must rise to the challenge. Because if we the students don’t, who will?
Shadi Hamid is a sophomore in the School of Foreign Service.
