MLK Day

I think the most memorable MLK day was at Northwestern. The admin didn't give students the day off, so a handful of students gathered in the ISRC lounge in the evening. I don't remember the details of our conversation but I do remember a surreal quietude had settled over the room, like the presence of peace was in the room. There was a shared feeling of total sincerity and truth that I rarely experience in group discussions. It was a long cold winter day and we arrived at the room worn down by the weather, our studies, and the state of the world. In between people's comments, there were long stretches of considerate silence. It was felt like everyone was actively listening, instead of waiting for their turn to speak. I was living in the international dorm so the room's racial demographic was Asians born in America and abroad, Whites, Latinos, Blacks, some Europeans. Everyone just let their guard down, no one was attacked, our fears and presumptions just vanished in the discussion. I remember thinking that this must be what world peace would feel like. True peace isn't stagnation or everyone in lockstep agreement. It is flexible, alive, expansive, dynamic. It is a deep and abiding sense of compassion and consideration. I felt like this moment was the truest honor of MLK's legacy. Not statues or pasting his quotes, or reviewing speeches. His legacy was alive in us, in the students, in people who grew up in other countries who barely knew anything about him, in relationships, in moments when something opens up in people for whatever reason: after 9/11 on the subway whenever was so considerate and loving for the first few days, or when an inexplicable love sweeps through a group of strangers.

I remember seeing the musical "Next to Normal" with Pam and taking the subway back. I looked around and -for whatever reason, seeing great art, the fantastic music of the piece, the time of day- everyone seemed to have their extra something in them. It's hard to describe the visual and emotional feeling but it stunned me. There was this electric shock that ran through my heart and I looked at everyone and saw this tremendous miracle. After a few moments, I felt sad because I knew that this sudden surge of love would subside soon. Maybe MLK felt like that all the time, maybe it's the feeling of saints: to look at anyone and feel the miracle. I am lucky that I can get an occasional glimpse and that holidays like this offer me a chance to look behind the curtain of cynicism.