Today's CLASSIC Clip: I Have A Dream

My best friend said to me before I left on my trip that she understood why I needed to do it: she said that it would be good for my soul.

This observation really resonated with me; I didn't need to ask what she meant by that, and though I'd not thought about it in that way, I knew instantly that she was right.

It was Voltaire's Candide that taught me - and my friend that reminded me - that we must all 'tend to our own gardens'. It's hard to say if it's what the satirist was getting at, but I take this to mean two things; first, we must look after our own happiness and not rely on others for validation or contentment, and second, we must be mindful of and vigilant in our support of others to fulfill their own pursuit for equality, liberty and happiness.

On May 17, 1954 the US Supreme Court ruled on the landmark case Brown v. Board of Education of Topeka, Kans., unanimously agreeing that segregation in public schools in the United States was unconstitutional. Not since the Emancipation Proclamation, which freed slaves held in the Confederate States, had a piece of legislation galvanized the hearts and minds of Americans in such polarizing ways.

Brown vs. Board of Education of Topeka Kans was followed by other earth shaking and culture defining events in Montgomery, Alabama, Little Rock, Arkansas, and at the University of Mississippi to name only a few that have marked important milestones in the struggle of African Americans to gain equality, liberty and happiness in a place that they have called home for generations.

As I stand and look at the wreath placed on the railing outside room 306 of the Lorraine Motel in Memphis, Tennessee, I'm reminded of how much has been lost in this pursuit and of how much there is left to gain.

It was here on April 4, 1968 - a Thursday - that Martin Luther King Jr. was shot and killed by a lone gunman from the bathroom window of rented room in a boarding house across the street. Dr. King, a man who had spent thirteen years of his life dedicating himself to nonviolent protest against inequality only to be felled by a sniper's bullet, was only 39 years old when he died.

The civil rights movement takes on a whole new depth and texture upon standing here at the National Civil Rights Museum which has built on the Lorraine Motel site (rooms 306 and 307 have been maintained in the exact manner in which they were the day Dr. King was killed - empty coffee cups and unmade beds included).

It's visceral... it's real... no longer something out of a text book. It's impossible not to be moved as you walk through the museum, read the stories, watch the footage and see the looks on people faces - faces of all different colours and backgrounds. My soul hurts as I think about all that has occurred and still occurs in the world as a result of intolerance for differences in race, religion, gender, and sexual preference. But, there is something else that is also very palatable here that lifts every soul that passes through its halls: hope.

I am fortunate to live in a place where these kinds of issues do not permeate the mainstream consciousness as they do here. This is not to say that they don't exist - but here, especially here, hope is the blueprint from which something new is being constructed. Hope makes you feel empowered; it keeps you going, and - if you let it - can show your soul the path to everything it ever dreamed for...