Pastel drawing of Langston Hughes by Winold Reiss

I tire so of hearing people say,
Let things take their course.
Tomorrow is another day.
I do not need my freedom when I’m dead.
I cannot live on tomorrow’s bread.

Langston Hughes penned these words in the turmoil of World War II.  Freedom from slavery was a legal reality for African Americans.  Equality was not.

They were not free from the laws of Jim Crow, from being 3/5 of a person or from the cycle of oppression.  In many ways, the freedom for which Hughes longed is still out of reach.

Who else calls for freedom today? Immigrants from Latin America can join Hughes in wondering at the futility of living on “tomorrow’s bread.”  Or try being Muslim in The Bible Belt – the first amendment has pretty much gone out the window there.

LGBT youth are twice as likely as their peers to say they have been physically assaulted, kicked or shoved at school.

I am particularly in touch with members of the LGBTQI community who experience a similarly “less-than” status: legal prohibitions against basic rights, a recent spike in hate crimes, growing anti-gay bullying among youth.

Most of the time I move in communities of people with mixed views on LGBTQI issues.  In these communities, I have learned that good people can have very different opinions.

When I begin to look at some of the concrete ways that people are being marginalized, however, I am becoming more impatient.  Isn’t anyone getting tired of waiting?  Haven’t we been letting things take their course for long enough?  Isn’t it time for the proverbial tomorrow to come?

There is something to be said for patience, cooperation, and diplomacy.  It can lead to real, practical change.  But there is also a place for anger.  Not anger at people but anger at systems – institutions that perpetuate systemic evils.  There is a place for letting a fire burn that can ignite a movement.  There is a place for a fire that can burn down the structures of homophobia and leave in its place a better world.

This Friday is National Coming Out Day – a ceremonial time for anyone who has been forced to hide their God-given identity to claim that identity.  How long before we no longer need this day – before the world affirms people for who they were created to be?

And that’s just one issue.  When I look at the 2,335 people experiencing homelessness in Nashville this year, or the over 633,000 unhoused people nationally, I feel the fire burn.  I have a friend who works toward greater dignity among people with disabilities; he feels the fire every time a church will not make their building accessible because they spent too much money on a new carpet.  My fiancée lets that fire fuel her to teach in the “worst” schools so that she can empower kids to work against the systems of poverty and racism in which they grew up.

Where is your fire burning? What are you tired of waiting for? Let’s talk about it today, because too many people can’t live on tomorrow’s bread.