There I stand. My feet rooted firmly within the ground and my head soaring highly and confidently above in the sky.
For this is all that I have come to know – that the origin of my life circumstances and conditions have been birthed out of the dirt. This is to say that the life that I have been given has been no easy venture: filled with misgivings and failure, and filled with loss and struggle, I have fallen victim to a life that I never chose. Not only does this include my own experiences, but also those of the generations preceding me – for I know that the lives of my ancestors before me have been marked by the struggle for survival and inflicted by the pain of subjugation. That the very roots that have given me life also dwell in the mud – with mud representing pain and sacrifice, with the mud representing the forces that have impoverished and bankrupted the world of those of whom I share blood.
And yet, despite the poor conditions, despite the failure and worry, and despite the dirt that stains my soul, it was in this mud that I have been given the ground to keep my head above. My roots may belong in the mud, but my head belongs in the sky. For I know that it was the fight and will of the generations before me that have allowed me to look forward, that it was in my own personal trials and tribulations that I have been given the strength to soar. That the opportunities that I have been granted have come with a sacrifice – for my smiles are rooted in tears, and my dreams a result of the nightmares before me.
From the mud, which represents the barren and infertile land for opportunity, which has plagued us with anguish and agony, we use our strength to defy, and to grow and flourish in infected soil.
@the.dr1fter - 1 day ago