The "The Hill We Climb!" Story

Preface:  It was over 10 years ago that I began this site.  As of yesterday I have posted 4,191 extraordinary stories for you to read.  My first few years I posted a story or two with a political theme to them and received several comments.  Decided I had more to tell than stories about politics that drew unwanted comments, so I discontinued political stories.  Today's story has to do with one five minute segment of the latest Presidential Inauguration, but with a different theme to it.  My story tells of a young woman who is the United States of America's first National Youth Poet Laureate.  Her poem she recited today at the Inauguration was amazing.  Told her story through poetry.  I only hope you had the chance to hear it.  If not, her rendition of it surely must be online somewhere.  Watch it if you can or read her poem at the end of my story.  You will love this young woman and her outlook on life.  It is more than political.  It is life, itself!  It is her vision of what she hopes the world in which she lives may be some day.  Read on...

It was an ordinary day.  Just got home from a half-day at Grebinger Gallery and sat down to watch a bit of the Presidential Inauguration.  A few seconds after I sat in my recliner, there stood this young girl dressed in a bright yellow dress.  She began to talk and before long I realized that she was reciting a poem that she wrote for the Inaugural.  She was amazing and perhaps the best speaker of those I had a chance to see.  Found out she is only 22 years old, but still impressed everyone who was watching her on TV and in the audience of the Inauguration.  

Amanda Gorman

Her name is Amanda Gorman and she is the United States of America's first National Youth Poet Laureate.  Amanda is a Los Angeles native who was raised by her mother, a teacher.  She has two siblings, one being her twin sister Gabrielle.  She attended New Roads, a private school in Santa Monica, for grades K-12, and then studied sociology at Harvard from where she graduated cum laude with a degree in sociology.  In 2013 she became a youth delegate for the United Nations after watching a speech by Pakistani Nobel Prize laureate, Malala Yousafzai, and feeling moved to help her country.  During her high school years she attended monthly creative writing workshops and was matched with mentors for one-on-one mentoring.  It was at this time that she was named the first ever  youth poet laureate of Los Angeles in 2014.  The following year she published her first poetry book, The One for Whom Food Is Not Enough.  In 2017 she became the first youth poet to open the literary season for the Library of Congress.  She has read her poetry on MTV.  Her list of achievements grows almost daily and she has now decided that she wants to run for President of The United States in 2036.  Her art and activism focus on issues of oppression, feminism, race and marginalization.  It was in 2107 that she was named the first-ever National Youth Poet Laureate of the United States.  Her Inaugural poem was called "The Hill We Climb" which encouraged unity and hope.  She was given five minutes to present her poem.  I had a bit of a problem understanding all of her poem, since she went so fast, but I was able to find the text of her poem which I have added at the end of my story.  Her poem is titled "The Hill We Climb" and she delivered it as a true pro.  Our country is in good hands knowing we have young people such as Amanda!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

"The Hill We Climb" by Amanda Gorman

When day comes, we ask ourselves, where can we find light in this never-ending shade?

The loss we carry. A sea we must wade.

We braved the belly of the beast.

We’ve learned that quiet isn’t always peace, and the norms and notions of what “just” is isn’t always justice.

And yet the dawn is ours before we knew it.

Somehow we do it.

Somehow we weathered and witnessed a nation that isn’t broken, but simply unfinished.

We, the successors of a country and a time where a skinny Black girl descended from slaves and raised by a single mother can dream of becoming president, only to find herself reciting for one.

And, yes, we are far from polished, far from pristine, but that doesn’t mean we are striving to form a union that is perfect.

We are striving to forge our union with purpose.

To compose a country committed to all cultures, colors, characters and conditions of man.

And so we lift our gaze, not to what stands between us, but what stands before us.

We close the divide because we know to put our future first, we must first put our differences aside.

We lay down our arms so we can reach out our arms to one another.

We seek harm to none and harmony for all.

Let the globe, if nothing else, say this is true.

That even as we grieved, we grew.

That even as we hurt, we hoped.

That even as we tired, we tried.

That we’ll forever be tied together, victorious.

Not because we will never again know defeat, but because we will never again sow division.

Scripture tells us to envision that everyone shall sit under their own vine and fig tree, and no one shall make them afraid.

If we’re to live up to our own time, then victory won’t lie in the blade, but in all the bridges we’ve made.

That is the promise to glade, the hill we climb, if only we dare.

It’s because being American is more than a pride we inherit.

It’s the past we step into and how we repair it.

We’ve seen a force that would shatter our nation, rather than share it.

Would destroy our country if it meant delaying democracy.

And this effort very nearly succeeded.

But while democracy can be periodically delayed, it can never be permanently defeated.

In this truth, in this faith we trust, for while we have our eyes on the future, history has its eyes on us.

This is the era of just redemption.

We feared at its inception.

We did not feel prepared to be the heirs of such a terrifying hour.

But within it we found the power to author a new chapter, to offer hope and laughter to ourselves.

So, while once we asked, how could we possibly prevail over catastrophe, now we assert, how could catastrophe possibly prevail over us?

We will not march back to what was, but move to what shall be: a country that is bruised but whole, benevolent but bold, fierce and free.

We will not be turned around or interrupted by intimidation because we know our inaction and inertia will be the inheritance of the next generation, become the future.

Our blunders become their burdens.

But one thing is certain.

If we merge mercy with might, and might with right, then love becomes our legacy and change our children’s birthright.

So let us leave behind a country better than the one we were left.

Every breath from my bronze-pounded chest, we will raise this wounded world into a wondrous one.

We will rise from the golden hills of the West.

We will rise from the windswept Northeast where our forefathers first realized revolution.

We will rise from the lake-rimmed cities of the Midwestern states.

We will rise from the sun-baked South.

We will rebuild, reconcile, and recover.

And every known nook of our nation and every corner called our country, our people diverse and beautiful, will emerge battered and beautiful.

When day comes, we step out of the shade of flame and unafraid.

The new dawn balloons as we free it.

For there is always light, if only we’re brave enough to see it.

If only we’re brave enough to be it.