As we tuned into yesterday’s inauguration, it was poet Amanda Gorman who soothed our souls
We, the successors of a country and a time where a skinny Black girl descended from slaves and raised by a single mother can dream of becoming president, only to find herself reciting for one.
Reading “The Hill We Climb,” National Youth Poet Laureate Amanda Gorman gave us a forever spiritual to sing. A poem for us. And that passage, about being a Black girl whose bloodlines still ripple in the pipeline wave of the trans-Atlantic slave trade, was not just her self-reflection.
It was as much about Gorman as it was all Black girls who dream big and now find themselves closer to those dreams. It was as much about those girls as it was about Kamala Harris, who dreamed of being president and now finds herself serving alongside one as Madam Vice President.
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