A Quote by Clint Smith

As we walked through the National Museum of African American History and Culture, I pushed my grandfather in a wheelchair he had reluctantly agreed to sit in. He is a proud man who also knows that his knees aren't what they once were - that years of high school and college football had long accelerated the deterioration of his aging joints.
In 2005, a man diagnosed with multiple myeloma asked me if he would be alive to watch his daughter graduate from high school in a few months. In 2009, bound to a wheelchair, he watched his daughter graduate from college. The wheelchair had nothing to do with his cancer. The man had fallen down while coaching his youngest son's baseball team.
Once they have actually left office, we seem to grow fonder of our ex-presidents - and they of each other. That's why so many sighed in approval at Michelle Obama's public display of affection with George W. Bush at last month's dedication of the National Museum of African-American History and Culture.
I once walked into a party, and I had just sprayed myself with an aura of my secret scent. I walked through to greet my friends, and as I walked, the breeze must have lifted my scent into the air. A man who had been looking quite morose at the bar, suddenly started to make his way towards me exclaiming, "What is that scent?" He was literally mesmerized!
College was pivotal for me. It broadened my horizons, taught me to think and question, and introduced me to many things - such as art and classical music - that had not previously been part of my life. I went to college thinking that I might teach history in high school or that I might seek a career in the retail industry, probably working for a department store, something I had done during the holidays while in high school. I came out of college with plans to do something that had never crossed my mind four years earlier.
If the story had been about anyone else, it would been dismissed as laaf, that Afghan tendency to exaggerate ---sadly, almost a national affliction; if someone bragged that his son was a doctor, chances were the kid had once passed a biology test in high school.
The American Indian, once proud and free, is torn now between White and tribal values; between the politics and language of the White man and his own historic culture. His problems, sharpened by years of defeat and exploitation, neglect and inadequate effort, will take many years to overcome.
I had a high school sweetheart that was my first. We were together all through high school. I had just broken up with him because I didn't think I was good enough. He wanted to be an anesthesiologist. I wanted to be an entertainer. His life was more planned out, and mine wasn't.
I had, before I went to college, I had taken a few years off after high school and really had, I guess in those days, I had no intentions of going to college.
I was about 6-foot-3 my freshman year of high school, and after the summer, I was about 6-foot-8. It all happened so fast. I went into the summer being tall, and when I came back, I was a giant. My knees, man, they were throbbing all the time. I couldn't sit in the car for long stretches; my knees felt like they were going to explode.
When I went to Catholic high school in Philadelphia, we just had one coach for football and basketball. He took all of us who turned out and had us run through a forest. The ones who ran into the trees were on the football team.
He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.
There's a beauty shop companion called School of Beauty, School of Culture at the Birmingham Museum of Art. I got an email that said a couple had a guerrilla wedding in front of that picture. They slipped into the museum with a preacher and had their wedding ceremony in front of it. It turns out that the woman is a beautician and the man is a barber, they had seen that picture, and they said it was the perfect place to get married.
That is who Barack Obama is - a person of admirable character - and that is who he has remained for me over these last four years. I have not agreed with his every decision, but never once have I seen him break his cool, lose his composure, or abandon his insightful perspective - even during the most serious and/or absurd national disasters.
Through high school, college, graduate school and beyond, I had a number of relationships that were wonderful.
Was his life nothing? Had he nothing to show, no work? He did not count his work, anyone could have done it. What had he known, but the long, marital embrace with his wife. Curious, that this was what his life amounted to! At any rate, it was something, it was eternal. He would say so to anybody, and be proud of it. He lay with his wife in his arms, and she was still his fulfillment, just the same as ever. And that was the be-all and the end-all. Yes, and he was proud of it.
When I did plays in high school and college, I never remember memorizing my lines, but once I had blocking, I had all my lines memorized. Once I had movement associated with words, it was fine. Before I had blocking, it was just text on a page. Once it became embodied, it was much easier.
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