Pondering more on my desire for leadership, I see that what I am looking for is unrealistic. I am looking for Dr. King, Dr. Chavez, and Dr. Mandela. These men are not a dime a dozen, like if every city can pick one up at the local hero mart. I romanticize about being inspired, I dream about a man who is loud enough to wake up the barrios of Albuquerque from their deep slumber in inferiority. Albuquerque's heights is where America lives, the South Valley is bilingual but not for the good reasons, the west side is where my generation has migrated to, and the bosque is a refuge for realty and trends.
I am a dreamer, and my dreams don't make sense to the streets. I am beginning to realize that my dreams are different. I look around as I drive through the streets of the Duke City, what I see are other peoples dreams. I sit deeper, listening to Miles Davis, I ask myself is this what other peoples dreams look like? Do people dream of ignorance and stereotypes? Do peoples dreams peak with rims on a low rider, steel balls hanging from the tow hitch on a raised truck, or muscles to back up a mad dog stare? When did our dreams get so superficial. Who is teaching us about empowerment?
I dream of co-ops, peace battalions, community gardens, brilliance, creativity, and
Tattoos that say "Mi Vida Buena"