The Dream is the same habit that endangers the planet, the same habit that sees our bodies stowed away in prisons and ghettos. I saw these ghettos driving back from Dr. Jones's home. They were the same ghettos I had seen in Chicago all those years ago, the same ghettos where my mother was raised, where my father was raised. Through the windshield I saw the mark of these ghettos--the abundance of beauty shops, churches, liquor stores, and crumbling housing--and I felt the old fear. Through the windshield I saw the rain coming down in sheets.