Conviction

Getting out of bed was such a hassle. It was a day off for others. Friends spoke about plans to hang out together. Watch a movie or perhaps just play some video games over the internet. Virtually together in physical solitude. However, the day held more significance this year for him. He had watched the horrors of 2015. Sometimes it was from the safety of a television or computer screen. Other times, it was a transgression he could not look away from. An ugly reminder of a truth for some, a myth for others.

It was a day of service. A time to show the world that although some great justice could be found in today’s world, there was also still so much sadness. These thoughts kept him tossing in his bed. Since going back to sleep wasn’t an option, might as well prepare for the day, he thought. Days like today are normally commemorated with a march. It is mostly symbolic and does not require much of a person. Showing up is literally half the battle. Small gestures normally mean the most. This is why he would attend today. It would mean something.

When he arrived, a quick scan of the crowd confirmed something he had hoped wouldn’t happen. Leaders of the community were missing.
“Who is here is interesting. Who isn’t is important.” A nearby mentor greeted him by answering the student’s unspoken question. He made a mental note, a follow-up to this comment would have to happen another time. Someplace more intimate, where opinions can be discussed without regard.

The march began. He walked for those who were too afraid to. People gave him strange looks as he chanted. He paid no mind, he yelled for those who had no voice. As they reached the stage, he prepared his performance. As he danced, he heard the girls in the front row snicker. A boy dancing in a feminine manner? He didn’t care, he danced to taste joy for those who could not even grasp the concept.