One of my favorite musicals is Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Hamilton, which reimagines the visionary of our national banking system as a young, scrappy rap genius. By doing so, Miranda reframes the context of America’s promise to be eligible for all — not just the white, privileged social elite who have held power for our country’s entire history.
Midway through the production, George Washington, a mentor to Alexander Hamilton, sings “History Has Its Eyes on You”. But instead of a celebration, Washington issues a warning. Washington had cautioned Hamilton not to be brash or too concerned with his legacy. He had even demoted his young protege and sent him home from war for his wild, reckless insubordination that led to one of Washington’s generals being shot.
Upon inviting Hamilton back to command his troops, Washington shares his greatest failure, one that still makes him quiver with shame. As a young commander he foolishly erred in battle, causing the slaughter of hundreds soldiers.
I was younger than you are now
When I was given my first command
I led my men straight into a massacre
I witnessed their deaths firsthand
I made every mistake
And felt the shame rise in me
And even now I lie awake
Knowing history has its eyes on me
Washington was trying to temper Hamilton’s youthful bravado with a dose of reality, a noble pursuit to be sure. But I would argue that modern day leaders need more mettle, not less.
In our capitalist society, have we forgotten what it means to be brave? Lulled by comforts like extended lines of credit and Taco Bells that stay open until 4 a.m. (live mas), we’ve forgotten how tenuous it is to have functioning government. 250 years isn’t so long. In the grand scheme, our country is merely a baby. The legacy our forefathers left us is a precious, delicate democracy that requires constant work and vigilance.
People love to fantasize about the brave historical figures they would be if they were born in a different time. A reader left this comment last week:
Yes, we all would like to think that if we were born in a different time, we would have passed the moral tests that so many others failed. We would have thrown tea into the Boston Harbor, helped slaves escape on the Underground Railroad, or hidden Anne Frank’s family in the attic.
Well, I have news for you. The person you are now is the person you would have been then.
If you are someone who stands up to injustice.
If you are someone who doesn’t cave to social pressure.
If you are someone who speaks up for the vulnerable.
If you are someone who puts their own body on the line to defend the marginalized.
Then that’s who you would have been during times of historical duress that needed brave people to defeat evil.
Conversely, if you are someone who voted decided that the price of eggs is more important than standing up to an adjudicated sexual offender with 34 felony convictions and two impeachments who incited a violent mob to attack our nation’s Capitol, then that’s who you are.
You don’t get to choose the time in history you were born, but every moment will become a time in history. If you had been born in the past, fate would not have imbued you with some mystical heroism that you don’t have now. Courage isn’t magic, it’s practice.
So start practicing. Be the Paul Revere, the Sojourner Truth, the Dietrich Bonhoeffer of the modern day. This will create two positive outcomes in your life:
You’ll learn how hard it is to actually, vocally, loudly, and proudly stand up for others.
You’ll get better at it.
When you see someone making fun of a queer person, defend them. When you hear racist rhetoric at the dinner table, call it out. Disrupt for good. Make people uncomfortable. Make them think. And for godsake, don’t elect a man who wants to dismantle our democracy. Because history won’t look on this era in American politics tenderly. You don’t have to live it tenderly either.
History has its eyes on us too.
I can’t resist telling you a quick story about the photo of the playbill I included at the top of this newsletter. After George Floyd’s murder in 2020, I emailed my local police chief to ask about racial bias training and whether or not the department co-creates processes for procedural justice with Black citizens to ensure they are treated fairly by our community. He called right away, and we had a fruitful conversation that I posted about on Facebook.
A few days later, a friend from high school reached out to ask me for my email so she could use it as a template. She told me her boyfriend and his coworkers travel around the country and wanted to reach out to the police departments in the cities where they would be working. She told me he is a person of color and had many BIPOC coworkers who felt unsafe.
I shared my email and sort of forgot about the exchange until a few months later when she reached out to tell me that her boyfriend was the actor Marcus Choi, who played George Washington in Hamilton (Philip Company). All of the cast members co-signed the email I’d created and sent it to police departments in Philadelphia and Toronto and Kansas City and Columbus, etc.
Better yet, they sent a signed playbill to thank me for my words and inspiration. It’s one of my most prized possessions and something I would run into my house to save in a fire.
Onward, Democracy Defenders!
WHAT!? And also, another fabulous take. Thanks for keeping my mind stretched❤️
This is a PERFECT reminder that small seeds sown for justice, mercy, and dignity get grown into enormous trees that house beautiful things in this world. Thank you!