When I was six years old,
 my country celebrated its 200th birthday.
 In the little town where I lived,
 there was a parade on main street,
 and my mother spent the weeks before it
 sewing old fashioned dresses and bonnets
 for my sister and me to wear 
 as we rode on a float in that parade. 
 We waved
 to our friends and neighbors 
 and our fellow Americans who lined the streets;
 and, oh, what a thrill it was 
 to be a tiny part of
 that something big and wonderful! 
 For a six-year-old
 there was only unity to see and feel that day.
 I knew only that Christopher Columbus discovered the land,
 and that Harriet Tubman was my hero. 
  
 Today, 45 years later,
 what I’ve learned about my country 
 scares me;
 and what I feel from it 
 terrifies me even more. 
 Unity no longer seems like an option,
 as hatred drips from the tongues 
 of talking heads in the news.
 They tell me now that being patriotic is a sin – 
 the thrilled little girl on that float a fool. 
 They use words like
 treason and insurrection
 for some violence,
 while standing in front of burning buildings for months 
 and calling it a peaceful protest.
  
 Today, there is no parade for the president,
 unless you count military tanks and barricades a parade. 
 Today, we don’t line the streets 
 and wave to each other, 
 we cower in our homes
 and wait…
 …for what, I do not know.
  
 But what I do know for sure,
 and believe with all my heart is this –  
 we are where we are today
 for forgetting the one thing 
 that once made us free – 
 “In God We Trust.”