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Dreams are for those who
dare…a personal journey
Delivered by Janis F. Kearney,
Chicago's Harold Washington College
February, 2003
Good morning. It's truly a pleasure to be here
with you, as you continue your month long
celebration of black history month.
Allow me to say thank you, to Wendell Blair, who
has been my contact with your school, and has been
so gracious over the last few
months. I'd also like
to thank President De Sombre, for hosting this
lecture, here today.
I can't think of a more appropriate place to
talk about the importance of dreams in reaching our
goals, than at a college named for Harold
Washington, Jr. - one of America's most noted
trailblazers…and, certainly a man who dared to
dream. And, I will touch on that a little
later.
Today marks the third in a series of lectures
I'm doing at Chicago City Colleges this
spring…and each time I speak to one of the
colleges I learn more about the important role this
institution plays in this state and this region. I
am greatly impressed by the fact that Chicago City
Colleges has taken a leading role in educating such
a diverse group of students, from so many varied
backgrounds. I applaud you for your mission and
your philosophy that a quality education is a right
that every student deserves, if they come here with
a desire to learn, and a commitment to achieve to
the best of their capabilities.
And, on that note, please allow me for the next
few moments, to touch on a subject that, in one way
or another is affecting all of us. As we move into
the 21st century, this new millennium…America
and the world is facing tremendous challenges. It
began with the 9-11 tragedy that we all remember so
well; and escalated into our own war on
terrorism…and, now, today, unfortunately - we
stand on the brink of another war with Iraq.
So, yes, there are major challenges before us,
and none of us can say for sure what will happen
from one day to the next. But, as someone who tries
to be an eternal optimist, I see this as "the best
of times and the worst of times." In my opinion --
while it was a horrible experience for all of us,
the September 11 tragedy, in many ways, afforded
our nation, and us - as individuals, a rare
opportunity to reflect on our lives, and our
responsibilities. It was an opportunity for us as
individuals and, as a nation, to define what
quality of life really means for us -- and to
embark on a new commitment to leave this a better
world for our children, and those for those who
come after us.
And, while as college students, most likely your
most pressing concern is passing core courses,
cramming for finals, and graduating on time. There
will be roles for each of you to play in this new
world we've inhabited
In the midst of all the changes now taking place
in the way we do business as a country, and as a
world; there will also be a vast need for a better
educated population. We will all need to gain a
firmer understanding of the world around us -- not
just the folks who live next door or down the
street, or even in the next state -- but, the
people living in the next country. The world has
grown too small and too complex for any of us to
sit easy just knowing American history. Today,
world history is so much more valuable to us as
participants in this new global structure. It is so
much more important than it was just two years
ago.
More will be asked of you and students like you,
in this national effort to improve upon our
environment, to increase our quality of life, and
enhance our relationships abroad. and the more
knowledge you consume here -- whether this is where
your education ends; or, whether you are moving on
to the next institution … the better prepared
you will be to contribute to this new world.
Remember that old ad, "this isn't your father's
automobile?" Well, I think we can all pretty safely
say, that as of 9-11: this is not the same world we
knew just two years ago.
Many of you sitting right in this audience today
will take part in shaping this new world, take part
in "fixing" some of the things that went wrong. As
corny as it sounds, and like it or not, you are our
future leaders. And, my prayer is that we, as a
nation, will be better prepared mentally,
militarily, and technologically, than we were two
years ago.
But, let me talk for just a minute, about the
importance of Black History Month. You see, some of
the same, questions that were being asked almost 80
years ago when Dr. Carter G. Woodson founded Black
History Month -- is still being asked, today: Is
there really a need for black history month, given
the advances of the black community…and the
more important issues and complexities involving
our nation, as a whole?
And, of course my response is a resounding yes.
First of all, we are a long way from resolving the
400 year issue of indentured servitude and slavery
that held our ancestors' bodies and minds bondage
for all those years. And, secondly, America's
history and relationship with African Americans is
different from any other -- and should be treated
as such. We have a long way to go, to truly
establish a level playing field in this
country.
Secondly, even with these most recent terrorist
scares, this impending war with Iraqi, these vast
changes taking place in our world; we, as a
culture, as individuals cannot forget our pasts, or
our responsibilities to those who sacrificed for
our freedom
It is so very important that with our
progresses, we remember from whence we came. Honor
those brave men and women who fought, and often
died so that we might live a better life, those
hundreds of thousands of heroes, whose shoulders we
now stand on, as strive to reach our goals. This is
what black history month should be about. And, it's
not even close to a time when we should be asking
the question: is it necessary?
But, just as 9-11 must not be America's excuse
for forgetting its promise to all Americans; or
using this time as an opportunity to ignore
individual rights, in the name of fighting
terrorism; black America cannot…must not allow
this new environment to serve as an excuse for us
to forget; to shirk our responsibility to our
communities, to each other -- and, most importantly
to our pasts.
Bluntly speaking, we can't afford to forget. One
wise scribe said: Those who fail to remember their
past, are destined to repeat it. We must remember
that those same values that helped move our
ancestors from slavery to full citizenship; are
time-tested values that don't depreciate or change
depending on what else in going on in this
world.
And, when we talk about honoring our past, we
don't have to reach back 200 years, or even 100
years. We can look 20 years back and find someone
worthy of our honoring. I mentioned earlier that
this particular college is such an appropriate site
for me to speak about the importance of dreams, and
honoring our past -- given the man for whom this
building was named. You can travel anywhere in this
country, and utter the name: Harold Washington --
and you will get a response of recognition. More
than likely, it will be a positive
response…particularly from those who study
history.
Mayor Harold Washington was a trailblazer, whose
dreams allowed him the opportunity to become the
first African American mayor of this great city.
Harold Washington's name was familiar to me, years
ago, before I left Arkansas -- and, it was
synonymous with great leadership.
There are so many people I've spoken with who
talk about that something special about Harold
Washington. And, that is why I say this day, and
this site is so appropriate to speak about black
history…and the importance of dreams.
In 1997, Mayor Daley spoke at a memorial service
for Harold Washington, and spoke so profoundly of
this man, for whom hundreds of thousands of people
turned out in the streets of Chicago, to say
good-bye. And, I would just like to read one phrase
from his speech that day, in which he said: "Harold
Washington will be remembered as a man who broke
down barriers, and opened wider the doors of
opportunity for all our citizens… let us honor
his memory by striving each day to fulfill his
dream, and ours, of a city that works for
everyone."
So, in a sense I'd like to devote this lecture
to the memory of the late Mayor Harold Washington.
Not only was he a great man, a great leader, an
exemplary model for all of us; but, he was also the
kind of person who comes to mind when I think of
our honoring our past, and repaying the debt of
their good work and their sacrifices.
Secondly, and maybe most important for me -- is
that Harold Washington's life, his works, his
background tells me that he believed the same thing
I believe…not only, in the power of dreams;
but, also, that dreams are for those who dare.
Harold Washington dared to dream. As mayor of
this great city, he looked past what "was" and saw
what could be -- beginning with an inclusive
campaign, and ending with an inclusive
administration. He was mayor for all of Chicago -
not just one race, one community or culture. And,
from my understanding of Chicago's history, that
was something pretty daring for the first African
American mayor of this great city.
not only was his an inclusive administration,
but an effective mayor's office as well -
dispelling the myth that diversity weakens
effectiveness.
And, of course, one of the most important
aspects of the Washington administration, I
understand, was that he took a trickle-down
approach to governing this city. He made certain
that the real benefits from his government trickled
down to those who needed it most -- not the other
way around.
I believe Mayor Harold Washington, from
childhood on, dared to dream … and, at some
point in his life, some important person in his
life, gave him a license, and a permission to
dream.
Because, you see, gaining permission from a
parent or a guardian to dream is so very important
for a child. What could be more empowering for a
child, than his or her parent's decision not to
restrict their dreams and expectations? Or,
encouragement from one's parent to look beyond
what's in front of you, or to tell you it's okay to
think bigger than you are… to have
expectations for yourself beyond today. Parents who
give their children permission to dream are giving
a very special gift, and I truly wish more parents
would give their children this gift that lasts a
lifetime.
So, maybe it was young Harold Washington's
parents, Roy Lee and Bertha Washington who told
him: Not only do you have my permission to dream --
but we encourage you to dream big -- to assure that
you reach the goals for which you aspire.
Or, maybe it was his grammar school teacher, in
Milwaukee, or his high school teachers at Du Sable
School, here in Chicago -- before he left to serve
in the army. I can imagine at least one teacher saw
the fire in his eyes, his sincere desire to be more
than what others prescribed for him…and,
maybe, they also encouraged to dream.
Can you imagine the nay sayers and doubters when
Harold Washington returned to finish his schooling
at the age of 24 -- after serving his country in
the army? I'm sure there might have been some who
attempted to dash his dreams by saying he wasn't
college material; that he'd never make it as an
attorney, or a public servant, and certainly not as
mayor of a grand city such as Chicago.
Well, I can imagine that young Harold ignored
those voices that told him he'd never make it
beyond that proverbial brick wall. You know that
wall that turns so many of us around; causes us to
defer our dreams -- that wall called reality.
But, the funny thing is, people like Harold
Washington …people who dare to dream, can
always glimpse what's beyond that brick wall
…that reality. Dreamers, in fact, have this
bad habit of seeing reality, but looking beyond it
-- to the other side.
Dreamers know the limitations others have
assigned them, but never take others' limitations
to heart. Never believing those limitations apply
to them.
Dreamers hear the word "can't," loud and clear;
and they understand what it means, but they never
place it in their own personal vocabulary. You see,
in their lives, they really have no use for
it…
Because dreamers believe anything is possible if
one dreams big enough, prepares well enough, and
focuses hard enough on their dreams.
I can tell you something else that I'm sure
Harold Washington always knew: Dreams are not for
the feint of heart. It's not for those who begin at
full steam, but give up somewhere in the
middle.
It's not for those whose success is tied to what
others expect of them; who's every life decision is
dependent on pleasing others, or living up to
other's expectations. It's not for those looking
for the easy way out; the shortest route to
attaining their goals in life.
Dreams are for those who dare…those who
dare to go the full length, in spite of the
obstacles; those who dare to buck tradition, and
question the status quo. And, those who dare to
march to a different drummer -- listening only to
that small voice inside their hearts.
You see, I believe without dreams, there can be
no personal successes; and I believe it is so
important that you, bright young people in the
prime of your lives, should decide now whether your
aim is to achieve success. If that is your goal in
life; then, dreams must be an important part of
your plan for that success.
There is a song that I never quite figured out
whether it was a spiritual, or gospel, or R&B
song. In truth, I think it crossed over all of
those labels, and almost became America's new
national anthem. The title of it was: "I believe I
can fly," by R. Kelley. The first sentence went
something like this: "I believe I can fly…I
believe I can touch the sky…"
That song is all about a person who believes in
their dreams.
A dreamer, before they can ever realize what
they're seeking, must visualize it. They must see
themselves soaring before they even leave the
ground…it doesn't happen overnight. And, most
importantly, the flight comes after the dreams, not
the other way around.
Dreams must be a part of your journey if you are
to achieve success…if that is your goal. I'm
sure that was true for Mayor Harold Washington; and
I know it has been true for me, in my life. So, let
me tell you…first hand, from someone who
dreamed all their life…someone who knows the
power of dreams…the necessity of dreams.
I'd like to share with you, just a little about
my own personal journey, and why Ii consistently
put dreams at the top of the list of "things to do"
when I begin setting goals. I am a sharecropper's
daughter who grew up poor, and in some people's
eyes, in a hopeless existence. Suffice it to say, I
would not be the person standing before you today,
had it not been for dreams…a life of dreaming;
beginning so early in my lie…about the same
time I began working in my father's cotton fields,
down in the southern delta.
Now, most people find this interesting that I
would connect the importance of dreams, to a cotton
fields, but it's all in the book I'm writing a
memoir, in which I tell the story of growing up on
a sharecropper's farm -- and the title of this
memoir: a cotton field of dreams. You see, I
attribute my life and the way things turned out for
me, to my earliest dreams while I chopped cotton or
picked cotton. Those long days when I worked, and
dreamed about who I would be, what I would be 10,
20 years from then.
Out of all the things I learned from my parents,
the necessity of dreaming was probably the most
important lesson -- not how to cook, not how to sew
or how to clean house…but, how to dream. So
many people ask me, when I talk about my past: how
could you have withstood the hardships of chopping
cotton in the hot sun, walking up and down cotton
rows all day?
But, hard work was simply a part of our lives,
and I now believe it was one of the most blessed
opportunities god could have given me. Those cotton
fields were a type of freedom for me, to dream as
wild, as big, as outlandish as I wanted to. I would
stand on the end of those rows, sometimes, and look
up into the bluest sky you'll ever see…and,
just dream about my future, about what I want out
of life, about the kind of person I wanted to
be.
And, as you can plainly see, the hard work
didn't kill me -- instead, it gave me an
appreciation for the small things in life, an
appreciation for gifts, large and small. But, most
importantly, those days of dreaming made a huge
difference in the Janis Kearney that could have
come out of that impoverished childhood, and the
Janis Kearney you see here today. I can't begin to
list all the terrible things that could have come
out of that existence, if I hadn't been given the
license to dream.
I have been blessed throughout my life… so
many of my dreams that I offered up to the sky, on
those hot days, are now reality; in fact, there has
been so many blessings beyond any dreams even I
could have imagined. But, that's what happens when
you open your heart, your soul and your mind up to
possibilities; when you listen to that small voice
that tells you not to restrict your life, or your
future to just what you see in front of you.
As a child, I witnessed and experienced
segregation on a daily basis. I witnessed my
parents' struggle to feed our family of 17
children. I witnessed people who looked just like
us, looking down on us because of my family
represented an aspect of our history, that they
were ashamed to admit still existed.
But, you have to try to envision the world that
I grew up in. It was a time and place that most of
you have only read about; only seen on HBO
documentaries, during Black History Month. An
existence that almost guaranteed that nothing good
would come of me -- or anyone else in my
family.
A small southern town, with less than 2000
people living there; it was an environment that
said if you're black, you're not good enough. And,
believe me, they meant it.
They meant it when they said we weren't good
enough to eat in their restaurants -- though our
parents oftentimes, cooked their food; Not good
enough to sit next to their children in school,
though our parents cleaned the schools at night; my
parents weren't good enough to be given bank loans,
though our parent's labor made it possible for the
banks to exist; we weren't good enough to drink
from the same water fountain, though our mothers
often-times nursed their children; and, not good
enough to worship together…though we were
supposed to be praying to the same God.
While that was the message meant for my family
and me --and the rest of the black community to
internalize, I can stand here and tell you that
James and Ethel Kearney wasn't buying it. For they
were visionaries and refused to allow such
negativity to
My parents were visionaries, you see, and they
refused to allow such negativity to fester inside
us, to destroy our dreams. They made sure we knew
we were good enough. They drilled into us that,
though we didn't have material riches, or money, or
the right clothes to wear to school -- they were
going to give us a gift that would remain with us
all our lives -- their permission to
dream…
to dream our way out of our dire existence; to
dream ourselves into a better life. To dream beyond
the hopeless situation we saw in front of us.
So, I learned early on, to ignore those other
voices that told me I wasn't good enough. Instead,
I listened to that one small voice inside my heart,
and my soul -- that said, you are good
enough…just dream, and you'll see.
Of course my parents didn't stop at telling us
to dream, they also drilled into us, these
things:
1) certainly they also made us understand that
we were no better, but certainly no less than any
other of god's children -- black, white, brown or
yellow;
2) that hard work, and persistence would be
necessary in reaching any goal we sought -- and was
the surest route to success;
3) that one's faith in god -- whatever god you
call yours -- makes us whole. That faith, believing
in that power greater than ourselves, keeps us
grounded;
4) that education was the critical foundation
for building a successful future, and you never
stopped learning until you took your last
breath;
5) and, that giving back is just as important as
getting the value of your gift is in direct
parallel to how you use it, how you give back.
It was from these two under-educated, but
visionary parents that I learned to value what's
inside of a person, not what's outside. That
beauty, and fine clothes and a great house -- is
all good and wonderful; but the person inside; and
the heart inside that person, is what really
matters -- in the end.
My parent's gift to their children, our license
to dream -- bear fruit for them: they were blessed
to see 16, of their 17 children, not only graduate
from college, but graduate from some of the finest
colleges in the country -- Yale, Harvard, Stanford,
Brown and others. Nine of their children -- seven
of their sons, and two daughters, are now
attorneys. Two have served as judges. Two were
aides to a U.S. president.
Because of their consistent teachings that,
between God, a solid education, and our daring to
dream, there was nothing we couldn't do. Because of
their teachings, we always believed only the sky
was the limit.
M y journey, from the cotton fields to the white
house included many turns and stalls. That's where
persistence was so important. I never lost hope in
my dreams, in spite of the obstacles. You see, I
learned that hopes and dreams are inseparable.
Earlier, I mentioned that I am an eternal
optimist, who seeks to find a silver lining in
every cloud. Well, there have many obstacles
throughout my life, and I have always sought to
find ways to either go around them, or dissolve
them. I was certainly never perfect, I made
mistakes along the way…but making mistakes
doesn't mean you stop dreaming. As the song says so
eloquently: a sinner's just a saint who fell
down…you fall down, and you get up…and,
then you start all over again.
And, you certainly don't let life's reality's
stand in your way of achieving your goals. I
attribute two critical obstacles in my life, to
serving as my challenges to achieve my dreams. One
was the fact that my family was so poor that they
couldn't afford to entertain my love for
books…they could hardly afford to give us the
school texts we needed.
And, secondly, the fact that I grew up in the
segregated south; which meant that little black
children like me, were not allowed to visit the one
library that existed in our small town. As much as
I dreamed about walking through those doors,
reading all those books sitting on those shelves,
it wasn't happening, back in the early 60's.
my parent's poverty, and the fact that I was
barred from entering that segregated city library
made me more determined to realize my dreams of
devoting my life to books, and writing. Obsessions
that became a driving force throughout my life.
And, it was that same obsession for books, and
for creative writing, that I carried with me from
the cotton fields of Gould, to the University of
Arkansas where I gained a journalism degree; it was
that obsession to reach my goal, to someday write
my own stories, that took me from a government job
as a public affairs official; to manage a weekly
newspaper, the Arkansas state press, owned by civil
rights activist Daisy Bates.
Now, I always tell this story of how Mrs. Bates
hired me as her managing editor in august of 1987,
and three months later, she decided to retire and
announced she would sell the newspaper.
Who knows what possessed me -- except my deep
belief in my dreams and my faith -- to ask Mrs.
bates to sell the newspaper to me. Amazingly, she
did, and I became one of the youngest publishers of
a weekly newspaper. I remember how proud I was that
I'd attained such a lofty dream. But then, I
quickly learned what no one had bothered to tell
me: that being a small newspaper's publisher,
sometimes meant you'd be your own secretary, the
janitor, and the trash collector, as well. Thank
God, I can now laugh at downside, but I can also
tell you that experience was one of my most
valuable in my career…and certainly, a dream
come true for me.
In 1993, a dream beyond any I'd ever had, came
true, when Governor Bill Clinton was elected
president of the United States and I was one of the
people he asked to join his administration, in
Washington, D.C. As I left Arkansas, the only home
I had ever known; I left my family, and my friends
-- to venture into an unknown, Washington, D.C.,
and more specifically, the white house.
That was a point when I realized that dreams
don't always come in a perfect box with a pretty,
bow on top. Sometimes they come at an inopportune
time; sometimes in unexpected places. But, the fact
is, what happens in these times, is that you've
opened your heart and your soul up to possibilities
-- and, that means anything can happen. So, you
always prepare yourself for these incredible
blessings.
So, there I was…literally `falling off a
turnip truck, but being shown to my office in the
white house, in 1993.
My first stop in D.C. was in the office of media
affairs, where I helped coordinate white house news
with local, national and sometimes, international
media.
My next stop, was the U.S. Small Business
Administration, where I was appointed by the
President to serve as national director of
communications. In that job, I was able to put all
my years of writing, communications and journalism
to good use. I managed a staff who actually did the
day to day work; but, I had to know their job as
well as they did; and be fully responsible for the
operation of the agency's communications
efforts.
And, then, in 1995, I returned to the white
house and, remember, I said that sometimes you are
blessed with realities that seem bigger than
anything you could ever have dreamed? Well, that's
exactly what happened with me, in 1995 when
President Clinton asked me to become a part of his
oval office staff, and to serve as the his personal
diarist -- a role I wouldn't have imagined in my
wildest dreams.
To give you a brief glimpse into what that role
entailed, I'll begin by saying, my office was three
doors down from the oval office. Sometimes I get a
big chuckle out of the west wing show on
television. I'm amazed that they get so much right,
and so much wrong. But, I spent a lot of time
inside and outside the oval office. I had an
amazing amount of interaction and access with the
president. I also had top-secret clearance, which
allowed me to sit in on a number of meetings that
very few people could sit in on.
So, from 1995-2001, My job on a day to day
basis, was documenting, chronicling the presidency
of William Jefferson Clinton -- one of the most
fascinating jobs anyone could ever hold. Not only
because he was such a fascinating leader, but
because, for African Americans, it was a unique
time for all of us -- and, especially for African
Americans: those who worked in the administration,
and those outside watching.
I felt extremely blessed to have been given the
opportunity to contribute in my own way. You see, I
was very much aware of my unique opportunity to not
only document American history and Presidential
History in the making -- but African American
history, as well.
I was in a once in a life-time position To
record for future historians, facts about African
American's contribution to the presidency that no
one will be able to erase or distort -- because I
was there, I watched this history in the making,
and more importantly, I documented it for the next
generation to see.
Mine has been a wonderful, amazing journey. It
has taken me through incredible paths, and led me
to unspeakable heights. But, guess what…it
began, and it will end with hard work, commitment,
persistence, and my daring to dream. My dreams
never let me down. They took me on a path that
brings me here, today, to share my story with you
on this wonderful occasion.
So, that beginning -- that permission to dream
made all the difference. And, because of that, I
have a huge responsibility, and owe a great debt
for that invaluable gift. It will certainly take a
lifetime, of writing, of speaking, of advising, of
being the best that I can be -- to adequately pass
on those gifts that they afforded me.
And, as I close; there is one thing I want to
leave with you. It has to do with gifts, and how we
repay debts. You see, I know that I have more than
myself to thank for those dreams that came true.
There were so many forces; so many people before me
that helped make my dreams a reality. People who
helped lay the foundation for my dreams to even be
a possibility. Nothing in this world happens in a
vacuum, or just because we are such special
people.
Because of that, I'm a strong believer that
gifts are useless if we do nothing more than accept
them, then place them up on a shelf to admire. I
don't know about your God, but mine doesn't give me
gifts, to place on a shelf to collect dust.
The true value of gifts are realized when we
pass them on, share them with others in need. That
is how they gain their value. God blesses us so
that we can share those blessing. It pleases him to
see those blessings multiply by our hand, not
his.
I believe that's how Harold Washington lived his
life, what he must have known as he gave so much of
himself to Chicago and his community. For sure,
this is what I know, and how I try to live my life.
Dreams, my friends, are a special gift…but
they're only for those who dare.
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