The timeless words from the original 1944 version of Woody Guthrie's classic protest song resonate even louder today:
There was a big high wall there that tried to stop me / Sign was painted, it said private property / But on the back side it didn't say nothing / This land was made for you and me.
This land is our land - and no walls or signs can ever encircle or exclude us.
Didn't vote for him? You and 256 million other Americans. The quintessential hashtag of the '16 cycle that promises to resonate as powerfully over the next four years as it has in the aftermath of election day. We won't wear out -- and neither will our protest's refrain.
"Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere." And so we live in MLK's legacy -- as the pestilence of prejudice finds its footholds, so must we find our voices. For if ever there was a doubt as to the unreason of racism, it is this simple truth: that out of Africa and into the streets, not one among humanity can trace our taproots anywhere else.
And so when the disengenues cry afoul to the chants of BLM that "All lives matter!" as if to invoke some enlightened salve, then we may declaim that if that was indeed their credo, then to defend all lives would begin with where all life began. So long as those among us who trace more modern roots to the source suffer the un-breaths of injustice, those with more distant ties might yet hear the voice of our common ancestor still latent within, screaming, that so long as even one among us remains subject to oppression, so do we all.