You know that moment when you come back to the present moment but didn’t realize you had left? Best described as mysterious experiences of time travel, I find myself in places and moments I’ve been before. At an outdoor market in Rome, buying a scarf for my mother amidst tables strewn with caffetiere and demitasse spoons, costume jewelry and clocks from another time. My favorite cafe in Oakland, noticing the light filtering through leaves of the sycamore trees and the wind jostling the trees’ branches. Other times I’ve found myself entering the Old City of Jerusalem through the Damascus Gate, going from blanching sunlight to the dark, damp and musty beginning of the souk before it opens up to the air and light once again.

Recently, I found myself returned from Sproul Plaza on the UC Berkeley campus, circa 2000. Passing through on my way to class, the most beautiful, resonant voice stopped me in my hustle to be on time. The song being sung by a fellow student was “Ella’s Song”, inspired by the words and philosophy of Ella Baker, a grassroots leader of the Civil Rights movement.

This is “Ella’s Song”:

We who believe in freedom cannot rest We who believe in freedom cannot rest until it comes

Until the killing of black men, black mothers’ sons Is as important as the killing of white men, white mothers’ sons

That which touches me most Is that I had a chance to work with people Passing on to others that which was passed on to me

To me young people come first They have the courage where we fail And if I can but shed some light as they carry us through the gale

The older I get the........

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)