My fellow Americans, I beg of you, first consider this: Do you realize how much faith it takes for me and those like me to write "my fellow Americans?" Do you realize how much energy it takes to summon the will to say those words? Do you realize how weary I am, how weary we are, millions of Black folk in this country -- and right from the start it's a troubled we, a complicated we, a disrupted we -- of being denied recognition as Americans or even as human beings? Do you know that so many Black folk are still full of love for the nation that so often treats us so poorly? We are used to hearing presidents say "my fellow Americans," a phrase composed of a pronoun, adjective, and noun, to suggest the bond we share as citizens. Grammar is one thing, citizenship an entirely different affair. Has the sentiment ever really been true for Black folk? Do we really live in the same country as white folk? Do we see the same things? Do we experience the same realities? Is our nation's motto fully realized: E pluribus unum, "Out of many, one"?
-- Michael Eric Dyson, Long Time Coming, p. 6-7
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