4d • General discussion
Unkept Promises
We hung our coats in the classroom,
slid into desks still warm from the morning sun,
stood with our hands over our hearts
and promised allegiance
to something we were told would protect us.
They said freedom was sturdy.
They said rights were permanent.
They said the grown-ups had it handled.
They lied.
We watched tradition guard injustice
like a locked door labeled normal.
We learned that comfort mattered more than courage,
that cruelty could be excused
if it wore the right uniform
or quoted the right verse.
Here in Missouri,
they smile while ignoring our votes,
preach morality while stripping autonomy,
wrap power in prayer
and call it righteousness.
Good people—
real people—
support abhorrent things
because it’s easier than admitting
they were wrong.
Because accountability costs something.
We were promised a country
that learned from its past,
but instead we laminate the mistakes
and hand them to our children
like heirlooms.
This debt is compounding.
Every act of silence adds interest.
Every shrug passes the bill forward.
Our kids will ask where we stood
when it mattered.
They won’t care who we voted for—
they’ll care who we protected.
There’s still time to make this right,
but it requires work.
Uncomfortable work.
Honest work.
Not for pride.
Not for power.
For the ones standing in classrooms right now,
hand over heart,
trusting us
not to fail them again.
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Unkept Promises
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