Water Is Life

Water

Water is a powerful force – literally or metaphorically. If you pay attention to key moments in movies and books, you will often find that water is somehow a part of those moments. Perhaps it is a rainstorm, or a tidal wave, a flood, a baptism, or maybe that first glass of water after an arduous journey.

Water is life.

A Second Chance

This was my second visit to the National Museum of African American History and Culture. The first one I was a chaperone – I only had about 45 minutes to truly check out the entirety of the museum while maintaining my duty as a chaperone of 50 eight graders.

Needless to say, my visit was rushed.

Recently, I got to return to Washington, D.C. I made a point of returning to the museum to see some things that I missed last visit.

As I wandered (or perhaps the better word would be wondered) through the museum, I had to pause to contemplate where I had come from. I had to consider the legacy that was gifted to me through the blood, tears, courage, and resilience of my ancestors.

When I chaperoned the trip, I was told there was an indoor waterfall – The Contemplative Court. I never got to it and so I made it a priority for this trip.

Contemplating History

I made it to the contemplative room after an abbreviated tour of the history of slavery. The room is a spectacle to hold in wonder and awe. The waterfall drips from stories above your head and falls in a ring (almost like a crown) in a wading pool below. It is like a religious experience.

There are quotes adorned on all four walls, and I don’t mean to minimize them here, but my eyes came back to the water.

The waterfall is like a steady rain. You know the kind that you can see the individual, large, drops of water, but then you adjust your eyes and see the blanket of water for the force that it is.

Four walls. Four quotes. Lots of contemplation.

I sat there and felt myself focusing first on the waterfall as a whole then back to the individual drops. And then I found myself watching the ripples of water reacting to the large drops splashing into the pool.

I had lots of thoughts. The curse and the blessing of this trip was that I was alone. While my movements were indeed unencumbered by anyone else’s wishes, I had no one with whom to share my thoughts.

So I sat down on one of the benches and pulled out my phone and started writing because that is how I think. It is how I process.

I’ll share those thoughts with you now, but please excuse me because I’m not a poet by trade nor have I played one on TV.

Here’s what I wrote:

Drip On

It only takes a spark

Or begins with a single drip

One drop is quiet, but persistent

Hundreds sing a cacophony of change

The drops rain in the water

The drops reign in the water

They emulate the sounds of millions marching

Of thunderous applause

Of voices in unison

Screaming

Pleading

Demanding

To be heard

Persistant, Resistant, Consistant

United.

The drops reverberate

The drops continue to fall

and cannot be ignored.

Magnanimous, Humble, Bold

Vulnerable

Identified

Anonymous.

The pitter patter of their impact

A constant reminder

If they fall on deaf ears, the eyes must see the ripples

The feet must feel the waves

Of change.

The drops are persistent

Each one valuable.

The value is in the volume and not the identity

Each one valuable

The drips started before we were born

And will persist after we’ve gone

Till the cycle is broken.

Let the circle be unbroken

Each one valuable.

Drip on…

We can argue who has made the biggest splash in history, but something that should not be discounted are the millions of drips and drops that have accumulated over time. Sometimes change is slow and persistent like erosion.

As I toured the museum, I found myself full of gratitude for the millions of drips that have contributed to change. Water is a powerful force. Water is life – literally and metaphorically.