On this Independence Day, I’ve been thinking about the nexus of “dreams” and “ideals” in the context of this epicenter we call America. Our classrooms teach us as much about America as the flag-waving, anthem-singing pageantry we engage in for its own sake. Observe:

As someone who was once “them,” you’ll never understand how much harder you’ve made it to get full educational rights because you refuse to see me and my people as human beings.

But alas, the students are victorious. Their diplomas will land harder than the punches once designated for you before you creeped off into the after-bell. Their smiles dazzle. Their intellect astounds. Their excellence humbles. The talking points that rock you to sleep at night will not faze them. The names you’ve hurled at them under and over your breath in the classroom has diminishing returns against the names they’re building for themselves. They will take the funds set aside for walls and make them into pocket mirrors to reflect the ugliness back upon you.

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