Overcoming Washington DC

At the ripe age of 10 years old, I had the privilege of traveling to Washington D.C. with my family on summer vacation. Being the bratty pre-teen that I was, for most of the trip, all I cared about was how hot it was outside. There was a specific MELTdown at the National Archives building that I’d prefer to never think about again. 

Even with sweat-induced rage pulsing through my veins at almost every hour of the day, I still managed to create one intense, positive memory. 

The Lincoln Memorial is absolutely breathtaking. I distinctly remember rolling up to the monument as a child and being in awe of the amount of marble sat in front of me. Because of the large amount of stairs on the outside of the structure, we went inside the museum that sits at ground level to find an elevator to take us up to see the main event. Abraham Lincoln was one of the most influential president’s this nation has ever seen, and so the song that was playing in the background seemed fitting.

Even 12 years ago, I knew the origin of this song’s composition and what it meant for millions of people across the United States. However, 12 years ago, I was oblivious to the bias still present in the world and how much had yet to be overcome and accomplished. In the moment, all I could think about was how much the song brought me joy and made me feel valued and safe.

When I entered the Lincoln Memorial last week, I went in with the anticipation that I would feel the same amount of comfort and security I had a decade prior. My ears strained to hear the hum of assurance, but to no avail. The music, at least for the duration of my attendance, did not play. It’s disappearance simultaneously removed an important historical melody from the hundreds of visitors present at the monument and also eliminated the feeling of hope I had as a child. 

I looked around the city of our nations’ founding fathers and saw hatred on every corner. Where history and legacy used to stand strong, there is now only fear of failure, new construction, and ignorant passersby. In a city that is meant to represent the country’s population, prices for simple necessities are outrageous and, most personally dismaying to myself, ramps were blocked by fences originally put in place to inhibit people’s access to their first amendment right of freedom of speech. 

When I could not easily approach the picture-perfect area in front of the White House, our nation’s emblem of leadership and growth, I was outraged, but not surprised. Our country, and, better yet, the world at large, is constantly making massive changes without properly thinking through the consequences that follow. This small fence blocking the ramp symbolizes much more than my inability to access the same sites as everyone else around me. It symbolizes a community that is focused on exclusion, rather than inclusion. 

In order to see results for any social movement, be it disability rights, gender equality, or racial blindness, mindsets need to change and the divisive nature of our current political state needs to disintegrate. 

We must decide to see beyond our basic needs and shift our perspective toward the bigger picture. We must elect officials that really, TRULY care about people and put human well-being above all else. We must choose to see people’s differences and respect them for it. We must avoid fences, at all costs. 

We must overcome.

Originally posted on July 10, 2019