This has been a tough week for many Americans, full of sobering realizations of where our country is and where it seems to be headed. A lot of us are struggling to come to terms with it all and to keep alive our hope for a more compassionate, equitable, just, and free society.

When I find myself feeling that there’s little reason to hope for better future, I try to bring to mind all the wonderful young people I know: the young adults I work with; my daughters and their friends, classmates, and teammates; and the little children who enliven our neighborhood with their play. And I know there is hope for the future. Thank you, young ones, for keeping it alive.

Of History and Hope (excerpt)

by Miller Williams (1930-2015)

. . . But how do we fashion the future? Who can say how
except in the minds of those who will call it Now?
The children. The children. And how does our garden grow?
With waving hands—oh, rarely in a row—
and flowering faces. And brambles, that we can no longer allow.

Who were many people coming together
cannot become one people falling apart.
Who dreamed for every child an even chance
cannot let luck alone turn doorknobs or not.
Whose law was never so much of the hand as the head
cannot let chaos make its way to the heart.
Who have seen learning struggle from teacher to child
cannot let ignorance spread itself like rot.
We know what we have done and what we have said,
and how we have grown, degree by slow degree,
believing ourselves toward all we have tried to become—
just and compassionate, equal, able, and free.

All this in the hands of children, eyes already set
on a land we never can visit—it isn’t there yet—
but looking through their eyes, we can see
what our long gift to them may come to be.
If we can truly remember, they will not forget.

From the collection, Some Jazz A While: Collected Poems (University of Illinois Press, 1999)