My husband and I were privileged to spend a few days in the nation's capitol last week. It was a wonderful experience - the monuments, the museums, the food, and most of all, a chance to be a part of the NSPA/JEA Fall Convention.

Many experiences have given me pause for thought, but none more so than the cab ride home.
This morning, a patriot drove us to the airport.

He was an older gentleman, Nigerian by birth, a chemist by education and American to his very core. He shared a remarkable story of overcoming adversity, raising his children to become productive citizens and contributing to the welfare of his family in Nigeria.

A comment on the radio sparked our conversation, but what will stay with me longest is the passion in his voice as he told us that he tells everyone he knows to vote. "In America, on that day, we are all equal. We all have a voice..."

I voted before we left on our trip, but with the disillusion that marks my generation, and I was ashamed in light of his great love, his great belief in the American way of life. He understands from experience what we often take for granted, having grown up in a place that's always been free, where we've known very little hardship as compared to most of the people in the world.

Earlier this week as we walked among monuments to great leaders, I remarked to Donnie that we need another Kennedy, another King, someone to inspire the people, but I think perhaps I am wrong.

What we really need is to listen to the thousand voices of recent immigrants to our country who have fled poverty, war and oppression and to value once again what we have. We need to lay aside our disenchantment and apathy and grasp with both hands their faith in what we've had all along.

Then maybe, just maybe, we can, in the words of Langston Hughes, "make America, again."