[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0xJCaw3Pmf0&hl=en&fs=1&w=425&h=344]

“Don’t judge each day by the harvest you reap, but by the seeds you plant.”  - Robert Louis Stevenson.

“I always thought of myself as an American, with all of the promise that America holds.  But suddenly last night, for the first time, I felt like I could put my suitcase down.” – Whoopi Goldberg, November 5, 2008.

The road to change is never straight.

It was in the seventh grade that I first heard the words “Yes we can.”  I was seated in the auditorium of our school, flanked on either side by Anne Mohan and Martha Hickson, my two best friends, as we watched a reel to reel film of Cesar Chavez and the United Farm Workers’ boycott of the California table grape growers.  I remember seeing Chavez’s weakened figure on the large canvas screen and marveling at his bravery, his hope and his dedication to his people.  I hadn’t been to California and sure didn’t know much about the agricultural lifestyle of the Golden State.  In fact, I didn’t know anything about migrant farm workers at all.  

But as we sat there in the dark, watching the black and white images flash on the screen and hearing the stories about the horrible living and working conditions of the people he was fighting for, their lack of adequate housing, food, safe work conditions and medical care, something stirred inside.  It wasn’t right.  It just wasn’t right.  

“Si′se puede,” the farm workers chanted as they marched in unison, demanding equitable wages and improved living conditions.  “Si′se puede.”  Yes we can.  

“Si′se puede,” Martha said, repeating the words of the workers as their chants grew to a crescendo.  

“Si′se puede,” said Anne, joining in. 

“Si′se puede,” I chanted, quietly.  “Si′se puede.” 

And then we began in earnest.  Three middle class white kids, chanting in solidarity with the California farm workers.  It was a pre-adolescent moment of transformation.  That is, until Mr. Woodward caught us and gave us detention.

“You can’t chant in assemblies,” he chastised us. 

Yes we can.

Almost 40 years later we have come full circle.

I watched “The View” on Wednesday.  I don’t usually watch “The View” and if I do, I don’t admit it.  But Wednesday morning I grabbed my cup of coffee and plopped myself on the principal’s recliner, raised the footrest and flipped on the television.  It had been an historic night and I was curious about how the token Republican, my fellow Boston College alum that had been so ardently campaigning for the other candidate, would react.

But it was the words of co-host Sherri Shepherd that spoke to me the loudest.  Fighting back tears, she relayed the moment that she told her young son that we had just elected the first African American President of the United States.

And right there, in the principal’s recliner, I cried too.

Cesar Chavez was a dreamer.  He believed things could be different.  When his people were suffering, he held the hope.  He saw a different future.  He saw a brighter day.  It would take effort.  It would take time.  But he believed, in his heart, that it would come.

Martin Luther King was a dreamer.  On that day in 1963 on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, he shared his optimism for the future.

We all need to dream.  We need to believe that things can be different, that things can change. Through hard work, dedication and vision, we can make a difference.

Hold the hope.  Chant in an assembly.  Dream.

Si′se puede.  Yes we can.