Like someone who speaks a foreign language, unbeknownst to those around him, I listen, catching all the key phrases and markers for arrogance toward the ‘other.’ Because I closely resemble the group most representative of the powers of the past, I blend in as dubious words are written and whispered. When I speak, though, there remains no doubt that I’m not one of them. I don’t struggle against the tide of the future, because I know that the story is already written and that progress is inevitable. It’s not my religion, skin color, or language that will rescue me – it is the fact that I see that our outrageous past will not be the determining variable in our future. If it turns out that I am wrong and the tide swells against us, I will at least know that the history books will not contain a page using me an example of the prevailing ways of this troubled day. I will be the footnote scrawled on an illegible page and little could give me greater pleasure.