After the presidential debate on June 27, many Americans became cynical, pessimistic or filled with doubt about their candidate options. Even putting aside the name calling, the gaffes and the references to golf, something was missing. The inspiration and hope were not there — not like they used to be.
We changed the channel, put down the remote control and sighed because we realized the loser in the debate was not Joe Biden or Donald Trump but the American people. We had no additional knowledge about causes, issues and policies than we did before the debate.
Hope had begun to languish. It was never completely lost — just bloated with setbacks that led to sluggishness and inertia. Hope reverberated through the land when Judge Ketanji Brown Jackson, the first African American female, was confirmed to the Supreme Court. Then, while some Americans celebrated the reversal of Roe v. Wade, for others it was a gut punch to hope. With ceaseless news of charges and convictions, and attacks on age and cognitive challenges, hope became lethargic. Then there was an assassination attempt and COVID struck again, and hope began to slump.
Hope has always had the capacity to be a chameleon. It could morph to any situation. It was a proud presence with buoyancy, vigor and expectation. It would show up without an invitation, linger like a beautiful mist and gently redirect us to more viable options.
Hope could also kick the hinges off doors, defeat despair and snatch us out of darkness. Hope was always near, whenever and however we needed it. However, hope has taken a lot of punches lately. It began to seem as if hope was defeated and was gradually dissipating.
However, on Sunday, hope was summoned and reconstituted. Hope was revived. We could feel it rippling through the nation, like a sudden breeze.
Hope was the shot in the arm that voters needed. It was the energy, urging and fire that reignited a once unmotivated people. We needed a change from the status quo, a break from the rancor and a reason to go to the polls. We got all this on the afternoon of July 22, when history was made and hope was revived.
Hope asks us to be patient, a little vulnerable and to believe in the unknown — what has yet to be revealed, what is yet to come. Hope extends to all of us an invitation to be courageous, trusting and future focused.
Hope arrives clothed in empathy, understanding our challenges and hurdles, connected to our humanity. Hope is curious, compassionate and capable of meeting us where we are.
Hope arrives as an escort taking us through tumultuous times, from the Civil Rights Movement to the first African American president. Hope shows us the light and greets us on the other side.
Hope shows up as our memory, in times of weariness and discouragement, bringing to our remembrance all that we have overcome. It whispers and recalls images of the sacrifices our ancestors made. Hope reminds us that our DNA has made us great.
Hope presents itself as a teacher with lessons we have learned — how to negotiate, press forward, seek justice and include others with respect and kindness. It teaches us that sometimes we don’t need skills or tools; we just need one another.
Hope comes as a balm to soothe ailments, altercations and arguments. It is a remedy for unhealed social ills, wounds and injuries.
With the threat of voter suppression, gerrymandering and disenfranchisement, hope perches on the feet of organizers, poll watchers and mobilizers. Hope is alive.
Amid mudslinging, name calling and blaming, hope provides a thick skin and a record of fighting for the people and delivering for America. Hope is an expectation of victory.
Hope does not always appear in familiar form. She might surprise you, inspire you, defend you and represent you. Hope is revived.
The Rev. Theresa A. Dear is a national board member of the NAACP and a Deseret News contributor.