Sometimes stuck is waiting and that’s how I like to look at it for here, this nation. Stuck in what should never have been stuck. But, not forgotten. There will be a day of liberty. There was and yes, there will be again.
Stuck is a hard groove that I fall into sometimes too. I, the American, full of all of the opportunities of the world and that is my story. But, it is different when I look into their eyes, so many students. So many friends. There’s a fear of getting stuck here at times. There’s a longing for life somewhere else and yet the hope that maybe it could be good here, but the patterns that are hard to shift in what ‘unstuck’ would look like.
It could be easy for the bootstraps up in life to judge. But, that’s because we are used to being on top and so often we have been. But, it’s different here. The greatest courage too often ended in tragedy and where do you go and what do you believe when it seems like the end is always the same? At least that’s what the gray skies shout in the long hard shroud of winter.
I want to look at this stuck like wilderness with what cannot be taken away of promised land. Of all of the years of suffering leading to something more than the suffering and somehow more beautiful because. I want to get stuck right in the hope and marry it to this place.