For my immigrant grandmother. For my friends who have come here and naturalized and shown me that the idea of America is still compelling and vital. For the tired, poor, and huddled who yearned to breathe free, and deserve their chance to do so.
For anyone who's ever thanked Allah that their family or ancestors came here to live a better life.
For Martin, and Malcolm, and anyone who wanted to be judged by the content of their character and not prejudged as an inner-city thug.
For those whose spoon wasn't silver, and for those who have no food to put onto their spoon. For those sick and unable to get help from a system that was uncaring, and still isn't caring enough.
For those couples who are still told that their love is wrong, but who know that love is love is love is love. For their children who get to grow up with all the benefits of being in a family. For anyone hounded out of a job, or a bathroom, simply because of who they are.
For everyone who understands that scientific facts are not a partisan conspiracy.
For Gabby Giffords, for the grieving parents at Sandy Hook, for anyone who saw the escalation and said: No. I turn the other cheek. I turn this into a plowshare.
For those who look at 1933 and wonder what they would have done. For those who wondered what they would have said when the men came for someone else. For those who have heard "It can't happen here," and wondered how true that is.
For the woman I saw fight for the Equal Rights Amendment, who worked tirelessly for the League of Women Voters, and for whom I'd give anything to have her see it happen. And for her granddaughter, who I hope carries the same spirit.
For this, and a hundred thousand reasons more, I'm with her. Let's make this happen, people. We are stronger together.
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