It was around the middle seventies when I first heard this brazen, young black man's voice. He was angry! We were angry! I was angry! Angry over the fact that it was a few years ago that they had just taken from us our black shining Prince. He was mad. We were mad. I was mad! Mad over the fact that our struggle for freedom had come to a screeching halt. He was loud! Loud and determined to be heard. And I heard him. I heard him loud and clear. I heard him when he said "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised". I heard him when he said "No Knock On My Brothers' Head". I heard him when he was saying that the spirit of Brother Malcolm will flourish in him as it has in me.
Gil possesses the gifted ability to put
into words the things that resided within me. He possessed the courage
to stand up and say what was wrong with this country, with this society.
He was loud. He was uncompromising. He was convicted.
He was convicted in his beliefs about "our" nations capitol. He was
convicted in his beliefs with our use of drugs and alcohol. He was
convicted in his beliefs that the struggle to be free will not be easy.
I, too believe that the struggle to be free is not easy, but we must keep
struggling if we want to be free.
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