Perhaps the Time Will Come
Sometimes it seems like we aren’t accomplishing anything, progressive websites don’t have very many readers, Republicans ridicule us, Democrats ignore us, and tens of millions of Americans don’t even know we exist. The following words reflect how many of us feel . . .
It’s difficult in times like these: ideals, dreams and cherished hopes rise within us, only to be crushed by grim reality. It’s a wonder I haven’t abandoned all my ideals, they seem so absurd and impossible to carry out.
I simply can’t build up my hopes on a foundation consisting of confusion, misery, and death. I see the world gradually being turned into a wilderness, I hear the ever-approaching thunder, which will destroy us too, I can feel the sufferings of millions.
Many of us feel this way, but those words weren’t written recently by a progressive diarist, they were written by this diarist . . .
Like so many of us, Anne Frank had doubts and fears, she felt the weight of despair and disillusionment and depression, but she didn’t give up, she didn’t let the darkness overwhelm her, she knew where she wanted to be and let her words take her there, she let her words take all of us there, she kept writing . . .
I still express my ideals because I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart. When I look up into the heavens, I think that it will all come out right, that this cruelty too will end, and that peace and tranquility will return again.
Everyone has inside of him a piece of good news. The good news is that you don’t know how much you can love. What you can accomplish. And what your potential is.
How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world.
I must uphold my ideals, for perhaps the time will come when I shall be able to carry them out.
Imprisoned in a slave labor camp, Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn wrote every day on scraps of paper and hid them away so they wouldn’t be confiscated by the guards and vanish forever. He didn’t know if he would ever be released, he didn’t know if anyone would ever read his words, but he was determined to bear witness to the inhuman cruelty tens of millions of people were being subjected to, he became their voice and the world heard them.
The words Aleksandr wrote on those scraps of paper became The GuLag Archipelago, they became One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, millions of people ultimately read his words.
Anne didn’t know if anyone would ever read her words, Aleksandr didn’t know if anyone would ever read his words, but they wrote them anyway, they resisted injustice because resisting injustice matters, it has always mattered, it always will matter.
Your resistance matters, FDL matters, MyFDL matters, what we’re doing here matters. The value of our words cannot be measured by Site Meter statistics, the Truth has timeless value. Affirm it, never let it be overwhelmed by the darkness of deceit, don’t ever stop telling it.
Keep the faith. Write what your heart tells you to write. Let your words take you where your heart wants to go.