I was just a little girl when I sat starry-eyed in front of a television screen watching Whitney Houston donned in a golden, glittery gown singing the words, “Impossible things are happening every day.” At the time, I was wide-eyed watching Black women be fairy godmothers, queens, and princesses, but – with time – those lyrics became a mantra for expanding my political imagination in a world hell-bent on limiting me. We accept crumbs from those with immense wealth and power, not because we don’t believe we deserve more, but because we have accepted “more” as impossible. But I am only able to write these words to you because those before me dared to dream of the impossible. At one point, it was impossible to imagine Black Americans unfettered by chains and free to own their time, labor, and bodies. That we would travel, not by force or in the hulls of ships, but to pristine and beautiful destinations purely for leisure. That Black people would be voting en masse and becoming elected officials. But people dared to make possible all of those “impossible” dreams. People who bent the walls that previously closed us in, who forced their way through doorways not previously available to us. Impossible things are happening every day.

Angela Davis once said, “You have to act as if it were possible to radically transform the world and you have to do it all the time,” but unfortunately many of us have lost our way. We know that nearly 250 years of chattel slavery was unspeakable. We acknowledge the continued legacy of slavery and anti-Blackness that has led to racial wealth gaps, overpolicing, mass incarceration, redlining, and other thwarted opportunities for Black Americans. We recognize that America continues to be an unsafe place for Black people to be ambitious and free and joyful. But we don’t believe ourselves capable of changing that fact.

In the reparations movement, this is called “the hope gap,” the distance between the belief that reparations should be paid and that it will be paid. According to polling by Liberation Ventures, 70% of Black people believe reparations are needed yet only 7% of those supporters believe reparations are likely to happen in their lifetime. Hope is everything. The absence of it keeps us immobilized, resigned to accept what is being handed to us. But impossible things don’t happen accidentally. They are the product of deep belief, collective action, and insistence on changing our realities. We can’t achieve what we don’t believe or what we can’t envision.

So I’m saying that I believe. I believe in a world where Black families who lost homes and land through eminent domain will have it returned to them through local reversals. I believe in fair funding for our schools, non-profits, and hospitals. I believe in tax exemptions and reform, baby bonds, guaranteed income, and land grants. I believe in toppled Confederate statues and reclaimed plantations for healing and public education. I believe in community gardens where Black people of all ages can learn to grow their own food and tend to the land the way our elders and ancestors did. I believe in learning from and with our Native American siblings, proving that when Black and Indigenous people have land re-redistributed back to us, the planet thrives. I believe in Gullah Geechee not fighting for their islands, foods, and cultures. I believe in Native people thriving beyond reservations. I believe in sustainable fishing, hunting, and foraging that help us fall back in love with the country we built. I believe in no wildfires and more resilient coastal lands. I believe in fresh air not tainted by industrial plants and waste dumps. I believe in clean water for the Black children of Flint, Michigan and Jackson, Mississippi. I believe in Black land stewardship and communal wealth.

I believe in more than what “they” have led us to imagine as possible. I believe in turning the impossible into reality and then daring to dream of other impossible fantasies to tackle. I believe in never backing down from the opportunity to want and go after more because it is in our blood. I believe, and I hope you will too.

Brea Baker is a writer and activist whose book, ROOTED: The American Legacy of Land Theft & The Modern Movement for Black Land Ownership, details her family’s experiences across the South and pushes for reparations to include land distribution. With a Bachelor of Arts in Political Science from Yale, Brea believes deeply in imagination and nuanced storytelling. She regularly contributes to ELLE and Refinery 29 Unbothered with other bylines in Harper’s BAZAAR, Oprah Daily, THEM, Coveteur, The Progressive, and more.