I Have a Dream

I have a dream that one day the preschoolers of this nation will sit down and live out the true meaning of the phrase, “Sitting Down to Dinner.”

I have a dream that one day my son and the sons of others will be able to sit down with their families — AT THE DINNER TABLE — and remain seated for more than three minutes at a stretch.

I have a dream that one day even *my* child, sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be able to plant his little ass in his chair and eat whatever the hell I put in front of him.

I have a dream that my little child will one day judge his meals not by color and texture, but by their nutritional content and flavor.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day, at a restaurant or at Grandma’s house — as Grandpa’s lips drip with soothing words of justification for outright defiant behavior — one day, right there at the table, my child will use a FORK to eat his fucking spaghetti and chocolate cake instead of his hands.

I have a dream today.

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