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We have another day. Another day to rest. Another day to pick up where we left off, continuing the work of those who came before. Another day to confront the lies of our country. Another day to organize the collective people in our communities — from the Native lands and tribes indigenous to Oklahoma, to the Black communities situated in North Philadelphia. Another day to fight for those oppressed by the structures of this America. Another day to fight for affordable housing, the working class, the poor, the environment and equitable education.

We have another day.

I could not help but feel a majestic joy run throughout my body when the day of the inauguration came, as both President Joseph Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris were sworn into office. Sure, there were some symbolic victories to account for, such as Kamala Harris becoming the first of many — Black, South Asian and a woman — to assume the role as Vice President. My joy, however, was placed elsewhere.

For four years, I bear witness — as we all did — to the effects and impacts of the Trump administration. I watched migrants lose their loved ones to detention centers — inhumane, disgusting institutions meant for no being on this earth. I watched DACA recipients shift to a place of constant fear, wondering whether or not they could finish their education in the United States. I watched, after a 17-year hiatus, the execution of 13 individuals taken by the rath of the death penalty, while at the same time witnessing the countless Americans — and those who went uncounted and remain unknown — succumb to death by COVID-19 at the hands of politicians who made poor decisions.

Through all of this, I began to feel myself fall hopeless of where the future might take us. Pessimism began to fester within the bones of my body where optimism once maintained

Even today, my heart is heavy and my mind cannot stop thinking about those who did not make it this far as I and others did. Those who did not get to see another day. Those who will not have the opportunity to begin again.

And now, as I write these words, the administration that brought those realities exists no more. My joy was not in the mere symbolism the inauguration stood for, but rather the promise and hope it brought for our another day.

Recognizing that the structures that allowed those realities to occur still functions — and will function presently — as it did before the Biden-Harris Administration took office. We have work ahead of us. It is here, that I hope we do not fall for the same trap and illusion that took hold of far too many Americans on the idea of finally getting to a racist-free, problem-free country that arose based on the premise of Barak Obama’s presidency alone.

There was a maintained sense of complacency during the years of the Obama Administration. After all, the first Black president in the highest office of the land had to constitute something, right? In some way, we lost the sense of responsibility in confronting the lies that remain at the heart of our country. Those lies we tell ourselves at night to sleep comfortably — that America is the land of the free, a land with cherished principles and divine sanctions. I do not say that to infer my bitterness for America, after all, I — we — are all a part of it. And since we are a part of it, we have an obligation — a responsibility — to see to it that the story of what America can and should be is told in a way that challenges the myths and lies it so comfortably rests on.

America never left. The same America that elected President Trump is the same America that elected President Biden and Obama. It has always been here functioning in the way that it should, or rather, thought to be. Likewise, the problems a people face will not simply go away with the change of public faces and a slew of executive orders and policies from an administration that is far from perfect, but it can give us another day to fight and push an agenda grounded in addressing and improving the material conditions of all people.

In a moment where the words America is back seem to situate a sort a relief among some, my question to you as you read this piece is: what exactly are we back to and how should that answer influence the days to come — our another day and our chance to begin again?

I am brought to the conversation between James Baldwin and Margaret Mead on A Rap on Race and their discussion on the topic of responsibility. There is a sense of collective responsibility that Baldwin speaks of here, a responsibility that also transcends himself. Each of us maintain this responsibility — a responsibility that holds each of us accountable for the actions of our neighbor. It is a responsibility we cannot dissolve ourselves from. It is a responsibility of love, of confrontation with the past to build a better future, of witness, of denouncement of our country’s lies and legends, of joy, of possibility and of the challenge of it all.

Ending with the words delivered by the first named National Youth Poet Laureate, Amanda Gorman, during her poem given during the inauguration of President Joseph Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris:

The hill we climb
If only we dare
It's because being American is more than a pride we inherit,
It’s the past we step into
And how we repair it

We have another day, and though we can finally begin to move beyond the witness of the previous four years, the days to come rest on more strenuous tasks at hand — tasks that will shape and define this America for years, decades and centuries to come.

Our responsibility is how we navigate the reckoning ahead us — though, for some, that reckoning is happening as I write these words — and if we dare the challenge of the climb, the witness and the denouncement of the lies this America rests on, perhaps then, we can begin repairing the America we hope for it to be. Perhaps then, we can continue building the America that so many — far and wide — dream of it to be.

Today is our another day and we begin again.