Nestled within
the Rainbow Mountain range,
there was a quaint little village
that seemed quite strange.
All of the people
that lived up that way,
were a thousand different
shades of gray.
If you inspected them more closely,
gray wasn’t quite right.
They each bared unique patterns
of black and of white.
Plaids, stripes, zig-zags,
splotches, and spots,
argyle, cross-hatched
or stippled with dots.
Although each was a bit different,
there was enough common in all,
that life in the center,
was often quite dull.
The village was called Grayland
and there lived the Grays,
and the place was rather uneventful
most of the days.
It wasn’t always like this,
the older Grays would say.
There used to be color,
before all of this gray.
They’d tell of hues of blue,
reds, and yellows so bright.
But it was regarded as legend
from the black and the white.
They say they faded slowly,
subtle changes over time;
they referred to the era
as the Time of the Climb.
Their leaders once lived among them,
accessible to each;
but slowly, so slowly,
they moved out of reach.
Perhaps a bit of geography
will help to understand;
to help form an image
of the lay of the land.
Grayland sits in a valley,
with peaks on each side,
But, that which defines them,
also divides.
Both mountains are gray
and close to the same height,
yet one’s called Mount Black,
the other Mount White.
Despite the appearance
of being mostly the same,
it’s the shades of the Grays there
that give them their names.
The Grays that live up
on the slopes of Mount Black,
bare darker shades there
that the lighter ones lack.
And those that live opposite,
on the hill of Mount White,
are Grays whose shades
are the lightest of light.
So, it happened within Grayland,
as it happens about,
Despite all Grays being gray,
a few filtered out.
Now the further from the center
you’ll find the extremes,
with the grayest of the Grays
living in between.
The Grays within Grayland
are most of the extent,
with the Whites and the Blacks
each a smaller percent.
Differences are small
and similarities are large,
so it’s somewhat confusing
that the extremes fell in charge.
Those in the center
still got along just fine,
while those on the edges,
built invisible lines.
Though Blacks and Whites
would still mingle in town,
they’d return to their heights
and from there, look down.
While the centered stayed centered,
the edges did climb,
the distance between them
increased over time.
Though the Grays were united
on one common plight,
anxieties began forming
regarding the Black and the White.
They were not only different
in the range of their shades,
they had very different ideas
of how leaders were made.
They used very different methods
to measure success,
and they both tended to cater
to those with excess.
A hierarchy formed in Grayland
among all the shades;
the high ones held the power
from the station they’d made.
They each wrestled the power
to choose who would lead,
yet they had opposite ideas
of what the Grays really need.
Whites and Blacks cast a shadow
over the Grays down below,
and every few years,
their power is shown.
They try to convince all the Grays
they’re not really gray,
it’s only their black and white
that make them this way.
They tear at the Grays
and make them pick sides,
they tug at their loyalty
and pry at their prides.
They argue and fight
to convince them they’re right,
that the Grays are not gray;
they’re Black or they’re White.
It ends often the same,
they choose an extreme,
who promptly curdles
the crop from the cream.
Whoever ends up winning:
the Blacks or the Whites,
vilifies the other
from their own separate height.
They take claim for the good,
for bad they give blame,
and accuse from their mountain
while fanning the flames.
Whites shout at Blacks.
Blacks shout right back.
The Grays are then forgotten
in these focused attacks.
Then one year, Grayland
seemed exceedingly cursed,
when then rose to power
the worst of the worst.
A Gray that was born
in the heights of the White;
a powerful man wounded
by the slightest of slights.
He disrupted the process
of daily affairs.
Grayland was upended
but he didn’t seem to care.
He pushed an agenda
of distrust and of fear,
taking only advice
from the man in the mirror.
He gathered around him
those covetous of gold,
of esteem, of power,
of influence to hold.
They began twisting the laws,
rewriting the rules;
blaming the Blacks
playing Grays for the fools.
He was disliked by many
when he first took control,
“But he’ll make us the best again,”
Whites would extol.
“Give him a chance,
just see what he can do,
you’ll learn to believe it,
if you watch news that is true.”
But the Grays began squirming,
wondering each day,
what their leader would do
and what he would say.
They wondered if someone
was pulling his strings.
He relished in insult
and doing terrible things.
He said mean things
and sought to divide
neighbor from neighbor;
to isolate sides.
He claimed to be the best,
the highest from the height.
Yet he delighted in confusing
the wrong from the right.
The neighbors of Grayland
were thought of as friends,
but aligned with others,
planning to defend.
They saw the new leader
as a possible threat,
and he had the power
to be the worst one yet.
They implored those in Grayland
to rise up and fight;
to resist the new tyrant
of the heights of Mount White.
“He does not share your values
we’ve come to respect.
Our tensions have risen.
We don’t know what to expect.”
“We value your friendship,
your commerce and trade,
but you no longer value
the agreements we’ve made.
We fear we may be forced
to push you away,
despite the long history
of us and the Grays.”
The Grays felt powerless
as they looked up from below.
Unease and uncertainty
continued to grow.
They began meeting in secret
in the dead of the night.
They found strength in each other,
and talked of their plight.
A plaid woman spoke up,
“Today should be our day.
Let’s take back the power
that was stolen from Grays.”
She heard much resistance
from those that leaned white,
who covered their ears
and spitted in spite.
“It’s time to come together
and demand a new way;
to find some new leaders
that still see the gray.
We’re more in this together
than we are apart.
Let’s embrace the values
we share in our hearts.”
Defense of the leader ebbed
as he spewed out new hate,
and more feared the future
of a more divided fate.
Eventually those that defended
covered their face,
and the resistance grew stronger
at a much quicker pace.
Finally, came a day
when the Grays said, “Enough!
We’re all getting sick
of your gruff and your puff.
For much too long
you’ve led us astray,
You see in Black and White,
and ignore all the gray!”
The Grays said they
would no more be ignored,
In secret they planned,
in public they roared.
They let it be known
that a change was about,
that the heights now in charge
soon would be out.
Blacks and Whites conspired
to work on a scheme,
a way to keep power
and share it between.
But the Grays would not have it
and they spoke as a whole,
“Today we rise up
and take back control!”
The Grays pushed forward
and marched up the heights,
half up Mount Black,
the other, Mount White.
They pushed the extremes
to the top of the ledge
and with one final push,
found the end of the edge.
They routed from power
all from the heights,
they erased the lines drawn
by the Blacks and the Whites.
The Grays raised the heights;
pulled them all down,
and set up a new system
in the center of town.
The woman that had nurtured
the rise of the Grays,
was loaned the trust
of the people that day.
To ensure all were included
in the power to steer,
They formed a committee
of every veneer.
The new government was not made
of Black and of White;
every shade and every pattern
was asked to unite.
They abandoned the heights
and built a new town hall,
to make their new leaders
accessible to all.
The town hall was fitted
with only glass walls,
with plenty of doors
and windows in all.
They listened much more
and talked a lot less,
and asked about problems
of Grays to address.
Discussions were open
so the Grays could all hear,
voices were welcomed
from far and from near.
Bribes and special interests
were pushed far away,
and the leaders returned
to leading for Grays.
Simple rules were the rule,
complicated were opposed:
If one cut the cake,
the other one chose.
Before you judge others,
put a mile in their shoes,
And do unto others
as they’d do unto you.
It wasn’t always perfect,
there were bumps on the way
but Grayland was focused
on maintaining the gray.
When those spoke up
with ideas thought extreme,
they invited debate
from Grays in between.
With the gloom of the shadow
gone from above,
Grays found more reasons
to respect and to love.
They found more similarities
that everyone bared,
and found their differences
as strengths to be shared.
As they focused on the middle,
the median, the mean,
it didn’t take long
for hints of change to be seen,
It was subtle at first;
tints, glimmers and hues,
then came sparks of greens, reds,
violets, and blues.
Grayland blossomed in color
in a matter of days;
purples, oranges, and yellows
replaced all the grays.
The colorful patterns
made everyone unique;
not a single Gray was gray
by the end of the week.
In name they’re called Grays,
but they’re no longer gray;
but, a rainbow of colors,
and patterns on display.
They hold value in everyone,
they respect what each say,
And they’re now more united
in the fading of gray.
Nestled within
the Rainbow Mountain range,
there’s a quaint little village
that managed to change.
They still call it Grayland
and they’re still called the Grays,
but they’re all very different
and prefer it this way.
