Do you fly in your dreams? I do. One minute I’m walking along and a force as potent as life itself lifts me and carries me through the air. I sail over trees and houses, a breeze on my face. I always awake happy from these dreams; I’m nearly convinced that I’ve been out flying.

I mention this in connection with a letter I received from my friend Nadine. Nadine is a white American living and working in Ghana. To Ghanians, Nadine is an “obruni.” Literally translated, “obruni” means “white,” but Ghanians refer to Americans, both black and white, as “obruni.” They see black Americans as having more in common with white Americans than with black Africans.

One day, when Nadine was still new to Ghana, she was walking in the country with two of her Ghanian colleagues. Arriving at a rickety bridge, she was surprised to find the Ghanians apprehensive about crossing. Nadine expressed surprise that anyone would be nervous crossing a walkway and one of her companions responded, “You don’t have to be afraid, obruni can fly.”

Nadine was flabbergasted. Her colleagues were worldly people; surely they could not be so naive and suspicious as to believe that just because she comes from a developed country, she has the power of flight. But, she writes in her letter, “Of course, he’s right: if I do fall, if something happens to me, there will be someone there to take care of me, a hospital that will treat me, my educational background to see me through, my skills and training that could land me another job.”

Reading that story gave me pause. I’ve fallen many times. I’ve broken more bones than I care to recall. Each time, I was picked up and healed and in spite of those spills, I’m considered healthy. I doubt this would be true if I were Ghanian instead of American but until I read Nadine’s letter, I had never stopped to think about it.

We don’t need to travel to Ghana to see how high we are flying. The very fact that we are communicating via the Internet is evidence that we enjoy opportunities unavailable to most of our fellows. What bothers me about this is that we privileged ones – who have the ability to fly – make decisions that affect the unprivileged. It makes me think of Michael Jordan, flying through the air and the billions of dollars we spend on sneakers. Then I think of the women who sew those sneakers in southeast Asia, held down by poverty and the lack of education – forces as powerful and immutable as the law of gravity.

As I go to bed tonight, I can hope for a dream of flight, but most people on this earth hope for dreams that in my life are already fulfilled and perhaps too soon overlooked.