I Live the Dream” Ashton Price

I LIVE THE DREAM

BY: ASHTON PRICE

Martin Luther King Jr.’s words, “I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood,” ring true in the laughter that takes place in the living room of 11425 Jamestown Drive. I sometimes wonder how those four thin walls can possibly contain the immense joy, intense sorrow, and unfathomable love I have personally experienced in that small cozy room. I think back to the first time we gathered in that house after it was first purchased. The buying of that home marked a new season for us all. In the house, I remember celebrating when Danketta graduated from nursing school, and when Fred completed his police training. My heart breaks all over again as I reflect on the loss of Granny who was near and dear to us all and my heart sinks to think about the bullying Aidan received from his fifth grade teacher. Through the good times and the bad, we have spurred each other on in love. Even still, this love has multiplied more than twenty fold on any given weekend as nine different families representing three different ethnic backgrounds gather to fellowship and learn from one another. Although I do not live in that house at 11425 Jamestown, I cannot help but feel at home there. Together, we snicker at the little old white lady across the street who takes every opportunity to peer into open windows and doors. She seems to live in fear of her white neighborhood, being tainted by the influx of multicultural neighbors. She hopes to confirm we are the stereotypical troublemakers she suspects us to be, yet all she can see is one big, harmonious family enjoying one another ’s company unashamed of what others think. As the adults catch each other up on the happenings and events from the week, Dariane, the youngest of the adults and the oldest of the children, assembles all of the kids, almost instinctively, to play a game. All ten of us kids sit around the dining room table preparing for a competitive game of Monopoly. None of us are concerned about what we look like or even about the color of our skin. Instead, our only concern is our own strategies for winning, and our only criteria for one another is fair play. Martin Luther King Jr. alluded to this type of euphoric reality when he stood before a crowd of thousands hoping “his four little children [would] one day live in a nation where they [would] not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character ” (King). MLK had a dream, and I live the dream. Meanwhile, our mothers leave the men to watch Sunday night football while they work together in the kitchen to finish cooking our evening meal . After sometime, the smell of fried chicken and mashed potatoes fills the house and draws everyone around the kitchen counter. In our family, we pray together before every home-cooked meal. MLK dreamed of a generation of little black boys and girls holding hands with little white boys and girls as brothers and sisters. When we pray, we join hands as brothers and sisters, fathers and mothers, and sons and daughters. We live the dream. At the close of our meal, our family returns to the living room to gather on couches and carpet. We spend this time in Bible study, and in life-giving conversations of mutual encouragement, compassion, and conviction. Not concerned with past events or political differences, we rally together with the common goal of growing in our relationship with God and learning from each other. This is the dream. It is a dream founded on faith in the future, and our family is a fulfillment of that dream. This dream is one that we cannot keep to ourselves. Nearly every weekend a new family is added to our family that feels so exclusive, but is all so inviting.

We welcome and embrace new families of all backgrounds in all phases of life, who need people to call family and a place to call home. I recall many times where we meet someone one morning and that evening they join us at the house. This is my family. This is the dream. With this family, we are “able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope.” With this family, we are “able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood.” With this family, we are “able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we [live] free”(King). Still, freedom is not always dreamy. Sometimes, we leave the house. Sometimes, we encounter individuals who have not experienced the same freedom we have found in relationship with one another. They mock our differences and poke fun at our diversity, but in the midst of adversity, we dream together. Although the house can contain the immense joy, intense sorrow, and unfathomable love of nine different families representing three different ethnic backgrounds, it cannot fully contain the implications of a dream by a single man for the improvement of the entire world through multicultural relationships and unity.

PHOTO BY: ANNIE CARTER