2230

Or three generations from now. By my unsophisticated and optimistic calculations. That is the year.  Maybe by then, they will be able to say that racism exists only in a few small, but isolated pockets in our nation. Total elimination is impossible, because we are after all, human.

We’ve known our opponent for centuries. It has been nurtured and allowed to become a tangential part of the American dream. So, it has remained a stealthy and resilient virus, much like the overt one the world is battling today. Constantly evolving, covertly embedding its tentacles into our society in order to maintain a subtle, yet powerful presence.

But maybe through the dynamic process of evolution those future new, diverse and inclusive generations will see it for what it really is. Vocalize it publicly. Evil and hatred in the purest and most vitriol form, un-American, inhumane. Maybe they will be able to eradicate its systematic existence from all corporate, religious and governmental settings.

My hope is that 209 years from now, my great, great, grandniece will read “59 Prime” and look up to the heavens and smile, at me. Knowing that most of the discriminatory situations, experiences, actions and rituals contained therein. No longer exist. Oh, what a blessed moment that would be, if true. 

I can only hope that my spirit remains strong enough to absorb what she is telling me, in 2230.