I can’t help but share the video and text of the remarkable and moving poem read at today’s inauguration by Amanda Gorman. This 22-year old set the event on fire with her words, delivery, and presence at the dais.
Below is a video followed by the text of her poem, The Hill We Climb (transcribed from audio, please let me know if there are any errors):
When day comes, we asked ourselves where can we find lights in this neverending shade. The loss we carry, a sea we must wade; we’ve 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’ve 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 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. That 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 can 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.
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 one we were left with every breath from my bronze pounded chest we will raise this wounded world into a wondrous one.
We will rise from the gold-limned 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 sunbaked South. We will rebuild, reconcile, and recover in every known nook of our nation. In every corner called our country, our people diverse and beautiful, will emerge battered and beautiful when day comes we step out of the shade, aflame and unafraid the new dawn balloons as we free it.
For there is always light, if only were brave enough to see it. If only we’re brave enough to be it.
— Amanda Gorman, TheAmandaGorman.com