Charlottesville

I’ve been trying for more than twenty-four hours to come up with an adequate expression of my outrage at the events perpetrated by the nazis on the people of Charlottesville, Va. and all good Americans Friday and Saturday. There is so much wrong that starting in on one aspect seems to distort all the others. Evil has come out of its hell to mock us all.

Maybe it’s just ironic, but the most optimistic conversation I had about Charlottesville and what it represents came with a black friend who took the events almost in stride. It’s like chemo working on cancer, he said; the country has to suffer before the evil is completely beaten off. We’re sick, but eventually getting better. Without this struggle, without seeing evil and facing it directly, we can’t ever get to that better place.

I hope so. And if a person who was born in South Central L.A. can find a way to be hopeful, surely everyone should be. But at just this moment, the battle seems overwhelming to many.

This country was founded on brave ideals. Its greatness has come not because it achieved those ideals, but because it has striven toward them. We’re not there yet; some of us may never be.

But we fight on.