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The Dream Was His, Not Yours
You know, there’s something to be said for following your own life’s path, no matter how uncharted the territory or arduous the journey. Those who persevere and overcome personal odysseys while making lasting contributions to civilization are revered by Greek laureates and celebrated by historians. Those who fail epically are awarded distinctions more suitable for another Homer (the one from Springfield in case you were wondering.) Wherever you fall in the spectrum (from the Iliad to the idiot), one thing is for sure, you are certainly no Martin Luther King Jr., nor should you aspire to be.
Now before you alert the NAACP of my insolence, just hear me out. I, and I would venture to guess most know more about a few events in Dr. King’s life than about the man himself. In this regard, MLK Jr. is as fabled as Jesus in that he miraculously manifests in and out of history’s timeline with sizable chunks of data either disregarded or disavowed (I wonder what Jesus was like as a teenager?) At least we can trace Jesus’ birth to a barn in Bethlehem. Without the assistance of Wikipedia however, few have a clue as to when or where MLK Jr. was born or even his motivations. Our deepest, fondest, and most often only memories of Dr. King’s are those where he valiantly emerges (in slow motion of course) amidst a cloud of racial injustice somewhere in Montgomery, Alabama….and then again in Washington, DC.
Our life experiences most often govern our beliefs and future actions. Dr. King was certainly no different. His message was so powerful and reverberated with so many however that the dreamer was rendered second to his own dream. Of course his beliefs echoed across many households (as they should) and of course the ideals of equality (at least 3/5 of it) resonated with a nation whose founding doctrine is inclusive of those principles. Lost however is the recognition that the events which lead to his spiritual and social ascension where his and his alone. There was a man behind that dream and the dream was his, not yours.
So what exactly am I babbling about here? Well since you took the time to make it this far, I’ll tell you. I won’t just waste your time droning on and on. I’ll get right to the point. Yup. That’s what I’ll do. Are you ready for it? Here it comes……WHAT EXACTLY ARE YOU DOING ABOUT YOUR OWN DREAM?!
Only you know your back story and only you can take all those prior triumphs and travails to weave something of relevance. So what exactly are you doing to make your own personal dreams come to be? Be it big or small, what is your exacting blueprint for rallying the masses around your cause?
Too often, we expend too much energy looking for a helping hand or looking for a leader when we should be looking in the mirror. Dreams are achieved through a series of multiple failures, accomplishments and small victories. But if you are waiting for whatever gravy train or freedom bus to pull up at your doorstep and whisk you away, good luck with that strategy. What’s more likely to increase your chance of ever boarding that bus is conditioning yourself to run at top speeds in the hopes of catching up to an intangible traveling at 50 MPH, all the while keeping the faith for 2 main reasons;
- There are people already on that bus so it may seem unlikely but it’s clearly possible
- What are your true alternatives for peace of mind if you don’t at least attempt (and very very hard at that) to catch that bus?
Whatever proverbial bus it is you aspire to catch, just make sure it’s YOUR bus and it’s taking you to YOUR promised land. Otherwise, you may end up either at the wrong stop or worse, at Ralph Kramden’s house, and he has altogether different ideas of how to shoot you to the moon (one of these days Alice…)
As we reserve this day for the acknowledgement of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and his many contributions to our little slice of the world, I believe it should also serve as an annual reminder of how far you’ve come in making your own dreams a reality. Whose to say you weren’t meant to be just as great…or greater?
Sidebar: Ok, Now you can report me to the NAACP. Sidebar Complete
Happy MLK Jr. Day!
Almost every year for the past 6 years and on the same day, I’ve posted the same pic of me in the hospital during my temporary and untimely demise in 2015. A few weeks after I was back to “normal”, I asked Eric “Why’d you take the pics?” And he said, “I knew you would want to write about it if you lived.” Eric was right. Eric was often right and Eric always had my best interest at heart. I am going to miss my friend.
You ever meet someone and become friends immediately?! Well this was not the case with Eric. Before he was my manager at Morgan Stanley, I would often see this 6’4″, giant white guy walk up to the only black woman at work, say something then walk away without any hint of human emotion. Naturally I thought he was a jerk until I asked her “Yo, is that dude bothering you?” She laughed and proceeded to tell me he was a great person, which I ultimately got to experience first hand. Little did I know this Italian from Staten Island was more Brooklyn than most Brooklynites.
Eric was not with the shits!! If there were ever someone who lived their life in direct, honest and no uncertain terms, that would be Eric. He would ask me questions at work like “Why are the other consultants making more money than you?” I knew the answer to that question and so did he. Eric then proceeded to increase my salary by 15K. After arguing with all our managers that “You need to hire Alfred!”, they eventually did 1 year prior to the 2015 incident. In the hospital, one of my friends asked me, “What if you didn’t have health insurance when this happened?” I would be in debt for the rest of my life is the obvious answer. I still am in debt for the rest of my life but at least, it is to those who made sure I had a more enjoyable life and for that, I will gladly repay.
My mom loved to tell me the story of how she met Eric. After they told her I was going to be in the ICU for some time, she told the doctor “Well I’m not going anywhere.” She then hears a voice from that back of the room that says “Well I’m not going anywhere either!” That was Eric and in true form, he was at that hospital every single day until I was discharged.
Eric passed away in December 2021 of stage 4 cancer. After feeling faint on his way to my bbq, he went to get checked out and was diagnosed. During the past 5 years, Eric lost his mom, twin brother and dad. I can’t even begin to imagine what that must have felt like but I’m glad that pain he was feeling is no more.
From being my manager to my business partner, writer, book editor, artistic director, and most importantly, my friend, I am going to miss you MC Krispy E a.k.a “Enrique Pollazo!” And although you told me Enrique means Henry in Spanish and not Eric, it was too late!
Sidebar. The day I was discharged, while everyone was deciding what was best for me, no one had remembered that I would need clothes in order to leave the hospital. Eric shows up (unasked) with all the clothes I had on the day I coded, laundered and ready to go. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve friends like this but i need to keep doing it! Sidebar complete.
Rest in Peace Eric. “Be Good.”
I had the distinct pleasure of participating in a panel discussion on writing your first book, presented by the Harlem chapter of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity Inc. Alongside Jim St. Germain, Author – A Stone of Hope: A Memoir and Dr. Keneshia Nicole Grant, Author – The Great Migration and the Democratic Party: Black Voters and the Realignment of American Politics in the 20th Century. We opined on pain points, benefits and strategies regarding our inaugural voyages into authorship. Feel free to watch for your self and I hope this provides some insight to all those looking to make the same voyage. Enjoy!
