A Letter to the America of 2050
By: Kaila Morris
Dear America,
I cannot begin to imagine what you will say about January 6, 2021, but I can only hope that you will not live through another day like it.
On January 6th, waves of citizens brandished insurrectionist flags as they assaulted Washington, D.C.: some modeled after the German Nazi war flag, some represententing the Confederacy, some supporting the downfall of multiculturalism–– and then used those same flags to break through the Capitol’s windows and doors, and enter the sacred grounds in which one of the most democratic of processes, the certification of the electoral votes, was being held.
I’m sure the history books will say as much. I’m sure they’ll tell you what unfolded, and how, and when, and maybe even why. So for that reason, I need not provide a chronological retelling of January 6th–– nor do I want to. But as I buried myself in books this weekend, young adult mysteries with sassy journalists for main characters, taking a moment to escape to other worlds with other problems, I realized more than ever the power of narrative, and how we tell a story. Narrative can provide us an escape in the darkest of times, but more than that, it can reshape our perspectives, take us to different worlds even if the world we’re reading about is, in fact, Earth. And for as much as I needed the escape my books have provided me this weekend, I do not just want to use narrative to shield myself from the outside world, but also to give the world of the future a tiny, tiny glimpse into my present. The Greek term of “Kairos” refers to taking advantage of a moment to spread a message– here’s mine.
You have a voice, and you have the power to choose what you do with it. When you speak, do so with the knowledge that someone will hear you, and not just hear but listen. Not always, maybe not even most of the time– but enough to make your words and intentions matter.
You have a body, and you have the power to choose where you go with it. When you move, do so with the knowledge that someone may follow you– you are a role model to someone else, a sibling or a cousin or a friend, and your actions and decisions matter.
There is a video of a woman, shot, being carried out of the Capitol building on a stretcher. She later died. When you don’t think before you speak, before you act, you put yourself at risk to be that woman–– you put others at risk of being that woman.
You have a voice and a body, but most importantly, you have a brain.
Use it.