More gun deaths in America. More Black people murdered by cops. More virus deaths. I want to go outside and pound the lawn with my fists. I swear I’ve never felt so helpless and enraged. And then I remember I’ve felt this all my life. As a youngster I watched with horror the vast cruelty of the Viet Nam War and the assassinations of every brave leader Black and white. I was thirteen years old in 1968. I woke up early. Like you and you I’ve lived in suspended horror and this means living with numbness and lowered expectations. And if one has energy to spare it goes into raising hope. Yes, Emily Hope is the thing with feathers. Look at me waving these quills. Just look at me.