Human in Humanity

Yesterday, we started our day at the Rosa Parks Museum. To remember the work that she did, what she symbolized, and how quickly her communities surrounded, supported, and begun work as a result of what took place, I believe, is very telling of the type of unity, and passion that was among black individuals in the Deep South. For a few days now, a theme that I have been seeing so powerfully and obviously is the intentional lack of humanity. Again, it is easier to hate someone, to treat them inhumanly, to see them as nothing, when you can’t see them for being human. The bus transportation, a lot of individuals mentioned, was the most degrading, humiliating form of segregation they experience, with the main reason being that they had to get up for anyone. When buses were full, and even when seats were open, blacks had to give up their seat, to children, teenagers, adults, regardless of age, regardless of gender. To be a grown black adult, and to have a teenage white person, a child, call you “boy” or “girl” and then instruct you to move, for them, devalue an individual, but completely erases their personhood, their dignity, the respect that they should receive. This continual theme of was evident when viewing media coverages of Rosa Parks and others at their nonviolent teaching camps. The dehumanization, vilification, that these “credible sources and organizations”, through intentional language would use, not only morphs the truth and reality but confirmed whites at that time, that their truth was the absolute one. Meeting with Joanne Bland and her sister, Lynda Blackmond Lowrey, was so encouraging. Joanne took us around Selma, showing up historical places, but also local spots and people, who impacted her, the community, and the movement at large. When Joanne took us to the park, where the last pieces of original land in the 50s and 60s remained, she said something that served as such a crucial reminder. She said that when they make new history where old history was, that we can erase old history. But that it is our responsibility to make sure old history is not lost, hidden or forgotten, so that we may never have to have another generation experience the pain that they did. I will end with words that Lynda said, and the quote that Joanne left me, after signing my book, in hopes that it moves the reader, in the same way, that it moves me every time I read it. “We needed to put the UNITY back in Community, and your generation needs to put the HUMAN back in HUMANity” and finally, what Joanne left me with, “Learn where we’ve been, then take us to where we should be.”

Hope Hammond

Day 4: Calculated Decisions

As I hear experience the events surrounding familiar individuals such as Rosa Parks, and many others who are new to me, I am impressed with their resolve to stand for what is right, persist for what is right, respectfully promote what is right and be willing to endure consequences of that decision coming from hate-filled people and a broken system. Individuals knew their jobs were on the line, their physical safety was on the line, and their very lives were on the line.  And yet they chose to make that decision.  I am humbled by their boldness, tenacity, resolve and endurance in the fight for freedom, dignity and respect knowingly risking their lives for what they believed in. Rosa Parks was arrested, Jimmy Lee Jackson died protecting his family, teachers allowed students to leave class to protest, protesters returned to the bridge for a second time, not knowing what they would be facing and many gave their lives for something that would bring about change.

Linda Poston

Day 1 – Just Minding Their Own Business

Towards the end of the gallery in the Civil Rights Museum in Greensboro, a glass wall stands, etched with the names of over thirty black individuals brutally and unlawfully murdered from the early 1950s to 1970. Alongside each name is a detailed description of the manner of death. As I read through each of these descriptions, I was speechless and heartbroken. One couple was shot on Christmas day, the same day as their wedding anniversary. One individual was beaten, tortured, then tied to an engine block and thrown in a river to drown. Another man was pressured at gunpoint to jump off a bridge to his death. Emmett Till was burned, beaten, mutilated, and drowned. I can’t even begin to imagine the pain and grief experienced by these individuals’ families and the entire black community. I am truly amazed at the courage that black people continued to have to stand up for their rights amidst such horrifying realities. If I was in their shoes, I am sure that I would have been too scared to act. Many of the individuals on this wall were simply minding their own business when bullets fired. And it’s crazy to realize that these tragedies were occurring only fifty years ago, when my parents were in their teenage years. Why did America take so long to call out and combat these atrocities?

          Jane Mylin

A Lifestyle of Nonviolence

Today, we had the honor to visit the  Dr. Martin Luther King Jr National Historic Site. There, I had the opportunity to visit Ebenezer Baptist Church, a home to Dr.King, his father, grandfather, and family. I then walked down Aubren Street, where Dr.King’s childhood home remains. It was touching, being able to literally visit the church, the street, the home, and essentially the community, that shaped and molded who Dr. King became. To see the very places where Dr.King’s passions sparked, allowed me to view a reality of King that is not often recognized. King came from a background, a family, a neighborhood, similar to many, and beautifully, developed into a man who discovered something to die for, as he often said.

We then went to Georgia State University and had the privilege to speak with a number of individuals, including Glenn T. Eskew, a professor, historian, and author who challenged and studied Southern history, and the dynamics of civil rights on the local and national level, as well as the advantages the more wealthy and powerful, gained in continuing segregation in the South specifically. I also had the pleasure to meet and listen to both Charles Person, who was the youngest freedom rider, of the original buses, along Anthony Grooms, who is an author who made a number of fiction books depicting various perspectives from characters in the civil rights time period. Finally, I met a former KKK member, who discussed the 180 turnaround in his life, and how both his past and present work, shapes his passions and understanding of life.

All that was said and spoken from these speakers was so fruitful and impactful, I could write so much about what I heard. From hearing Mr. Person describe the moments, the journey, as a young man, passionate for dignity and life, and his comparisons between being a veteran of the Vietnam war and a veteran of the Civil Rights Movement was both touching and, for some reason, frustrating. What resonated and stayed present in my mind following the conversations, was the conversation I had with the former KKK member, TM.

As stated by TM, dehumanizing someone, is easy, civil discourse, breaking down the barriers of pride and ignorance for meaningful conversations and change, however, is not. It is easy to dehumanize someone when you view them so negatively, but there is power in seeing the humanity in individuals, even when they cannot see it in you. This point by TM perfectly ties into MLK’s 2nd, third and fourth principles of nonviolence. Nonviolence seeks to win friendship and understanding, to reach the end result of redemption and reconciliation (principle 2). Nonviolence seeks to defeat injustice, not people. The understanding that it is not black vs right, it is us against injustice and hatred. That “nonviolence recognizes that evildoers are also victims and are not evil persons” and “nonviolent resisters seek to defeat evil, not people. And finally, the fourth principle, my favorite, that “nonviolence holds that suffering can educate and transform people and societies”, that unlearned suffering is redemptive and has “tremendous educational transforming possibilities”. Understanding that nonviolence is a lifestyle, we see how we too should be intentional in being nonviolent with our language, with our attitudes, with our approaches to seeking justice, informing, and facilitating conversations of civil discourse. To enter into conversations not attacking, not dehumanizing, but with the expression of love and kindness. These principles are applicable in not only actions through demonstrations, but in how we dialogue.

Hope Hammond

Day 4: What Kind of World Do You Want To Live In?

Today Ms. Joanne Blackmon Bland asked us to confront and ponder this question. In 1965, she and her sister, Ms. Lynda Blackmon Lowry marched from Selma, Alabama to Montgomery, Alabama for the right to vote. They were teenagers. In fact, at the age of 14, Ms. Lynda was the youngest to march.

The Blackmon sisters spoke of the violence and trauma of Bloody Sunday in Selma, Alabama. Police officers brutally beat protestors with nightsticks and fired tear gas on them. Marchers were severely wounded, and many suffered permanent physical and psychological scars for the rest of their lives. Ms. Lynda was beaten so badly that she required 7 stitches above her right eye and 28 stitches on the back of her head.

While listening to the stories of their experiences of police brutality, it was overwhelming thinking about the trauma that these strong and resilient women endured so early in their lives. The larger history of the U.S. also illuminates the trauma experienced by black enslaved people and black Americans that continues to this day.

Today we walked across the Edmund Pettus Bridge where some of these atrocities took place. It was deeply moving walking on this same ground. Considering Ms. Joanne’s question, our world is not that different from just 56 years ago. There is so much work yet to be done towards human rights for all who live in the U.S. and I want to live in a world where everyone’s humanity is recognized and respected.

Sarah P. Myers

Selma, AL

Today, hearing the stories of Ms. Lynda Blackmon Lowery and Ms. Joanne Bland put a lot into perspective for me. I was shocked by the horrors Lynda had encountered as the youngest individual to march from Selma to Montgomery, Alabama. She shared her story about how she was tear gassed, beaten, and dehumanized during her march; however, what shocked me the most was that even after all of that she still went back and marched. The amount of dedication and patience she had as a fifteen-year-old astonishes me. I can’t even begin to imagine going through something so traumatic and having the willpower to keep fighting for what you believe in. It really put things into to perspective because it didn’t matter if you were elderly, a child, or an adult because if you were colored you were automatically treated less than human. It really broke my heart to hear what she had to overcome as a child due to such bigoted mindsets in this country. We also had the opportunity walk across the Edmund Pettus Bridge today. Walking across that bridge today truly allowed me to vicariously feel the emotions, desires, and determination of those who marched during the movement. It was truly inspiring and transformative to not only hear accounts of those in the movement, but to also march across the same bridge those in the exact same spot as those in the movement.

Hannah Kuruvilla

Third Day- The beauty of a voice

What we had on the agenda today really had me excited and even more eager to learn about this beautiful now movement. Even though it was a time of sorrow, sadness, and hopelessness, people had a dream, and the dream is still alive. That dream is still alive because of the great heroes and sheroes that never gave up and used their God-given talents to help in any way shape or form. Just like Rutha Harris.

We had the honor and pleasure to meet Ms. Rutha Harris. One of the freedom singers. The beautiful thing I learned from this wonderful lady was “everyone has a story, and I told (and telling) mine through singing” -Harris. I learned that we all have a story and there are so many ways we can share that, it can be through our God-given talents.

At 21 years old, my age Ms. Harris had the courage to take a stand in believing what was right and she did it in a form of singing in mass meetings. I began to ask myself, what are some things that I can start doing right now at this age to be an agent of change. I wrestled with this thought, but I got to the conclusion that I can use my God-given talents.

I was inspired by the loving words she had about forgiveness. I can’t even imagine the anger and frustration you would have after being shot at, but she just forgave and was motivated by the “end goal” of meeting the perfect one, the Lord, God.

The next question I begin to ask myself after this beautiful experience is what can we do collectively to be agents of change?

Nathan Ncube

Songs of Justice

The day began so beautifully. We started by visiting the Charles Sherrod Civil Rights Park. To see names and events that transpired on a local level, served as a powerful reminder that not just the national leaders and organizations sacrificed their lives and exuded greatness and courage for the hope for a more loving, equitable future. Honoring the names and organizations on a grassroots level, giving them the recognition and praise that they are so deserving of, is equally as important. Following the park, we went to see Ms. Rutha Harris, and this was one of the most wonderful experiences. I previously have heard Ms. Rutha via Zoom and knew how moving and emotional her voice was, but hearing her voice, in a room, in person, chills. Chills from the moment she opened her mouth until I left the building. Her voice transformed the atmosphere of the room, and made me feel as if I was listening to her at a demonstration. The emotions, the visuals, the unity and history that I felt and experienced all through her singing was invaluable. Her singing was story telling, encouraging, uplifting, and advantageous to the movement. Rutha many times has said that the movement needed music, and I fully believe and see its significance. The power that song has, moves, pushes and gives hope and faith in ways that other things cannot. Speaking with Rutha and others really made me ponder on ways we today can continue to use modern music in storytelling and bringing courage in our fights for justice. Listening to Dr. King’s Holt Street Baptist speech was so powerful. The rhetoric used by King not only motivated the crowd and encouraged action, but confirmed and reminded the listeners of the legitimacy of the movement and what they were doing. He uses talks of faith and love for their country, democracy and citizenship to advance their credibility. Traveling through Montgomery, stopping at such historical churches, houses, and locations was incredible. To stand, to look at very places that changed history, so that I can live, and have a taste of the freedom they risked their lives for was indescribable. I am still attempting to form words to explain the feeling. Those buildings hold so much power, leadership, faith and bravery in them, and I have been honored to be near spots that heroes walked.

Hope Hammond

Day 3 – Kindness

As I sit in bed tonight, I feel very fulfilled. The events of the day provided me with encouragement and joy. Starting out our day with Ms. Rutha Harris and her colleague Ms. Eartha Watkins leading us in freedom songs was quite refreshing. After over a year without true congregational singing, it was amazing to join in with Rutha and Eartha as they projected their voices throughout the hall. It felt wonderful to sing, laugh, and clap once again. I couldn’t help but imagine what it was like for Rutha and her peers to sing these powerful songs together as they marched through the streets of Albany. I thought it was very interesting how she mentioned that, often, when groups started singing, the policemen would drop their weapons. Something as simple and nonviolent as singing has immense power. Rutha also told the story of how one of the local officials came to her when she was jailed and asked her to sing the song the group had written about him. She noted that he was “less evil” than many of the other white policemen down south such as Bull Connor. In a region whose law enforcement was dominated by racist ideology at the time, it was encouraging to hear that Rutha noticed he was an anomaly of sorts. As we continued our journey and made various stops at churches, eateries, and stores, kindness just seemed to be everywhere. The day ended with a lovely, filling meal catered by Sophia, who greeted us each with a hug as we walked inside. As Dr. Allen remarked, you could certainly feel the love in each dish she prepared.  

Jane Mylin

Day 3: The Veil of History

Today began in Albany, where we had some opportunities to take photos at the Albany Civil Rights Memorial, the Shiloh Missionary Baptist Church, and the outside of the Albany Civil Rights Institute. But what was certainly most moving was singing with Ms. Rutha Mae Harris, one of the original Freedom Singers. In singing the songs of those who sought freedom, those who sang to keep their spirits high and their hearts hardened on justice, I felt the presence of the Holy Spirit. As Martin Luther King shared in his Sixth Principle of Nonviolence: God is a God of justice, and justice will win. So, I was not surprised by the presence of the Holy Spirit as we sang those moving words, but I could not be prepared for its presence. The sheer joy I felt, knowing that triumph had come, left my heart overwhelmed. This does not mean that the work of our generation is light, but the work of our parents’ generations can be celebrated for legalized segregation has come to an end. I will never underestimate the power of music again, because as Ms. Harris said, without the Freedom Songs there could not have been a Civil Rights Movement.

But our next stop troubled me deeply. After Albany, we journeyed to Montgomery, Alabama. At the steps of the Capitol building, stood a tall statue of Jefferson Davis looking over Montgomery. There, on the Alabama Capitol steps, there is the mark of where he was sworn in as the only president of the Confederacy. Just one block down is the Dexter Avenue King Memorial Baptist Church where Martin Luther King served as the 20^th pastor of the church. In the block separating those two was bicentennial park, which chronicled the history of the state of Alabama. On the final placard, it read “The past is a lesson” and that the people of Alabama “have the ability to purge the bad and retain the good.”

The good in that history of the Civil War though resides in that it must be remembered so that it will not be repeated. And yet, Confederate statues adorn the capitol building as though these figures are to be venerated. Individuals wave the confederate flag as an element of “Southern Pride”. And yet, I wonder how the confederacy is not an element of shame. There seems to me to be no greater action against the institution of American democracy than to stand against it, which is in effect what the Confederacy did. For the contemporary Southerner, where is the pride in brother killing brother in order to keep their fellow American enslaved?

I am painfully aware of the Lost Cause lie that propagated throughout the South, and the groups today that continue to maintain the lies regarding the nobility of the Civil War. The old proverbial phrase “history is written by the victor” is remarkably untrue, and some Southern interpretations of the Civil War highlight that. Groups like the United Daughters of the Confederacy continue to fund Confederate statues in order to support their white supremacist ideals, and then mask them with the veil of notions like “Southern Pride” or “Standing Opposed to Northern Aggression” to make them more palatable for the average citizen.

These statues are beginning to fall, and in my lifetime, I do believe each one will come down. But I fear for the next Lost Cause narrative that will seek to rebrand white supremacy. Although we have become far more observant today, and there is a degree of awareness because of the myths like the Lost Cause, one can only identify a lie after it has been heard.  I fear who will hear the next Lost Cause. Will it be those who will propagate it, or those who will snuff it out? I pray today to have the wisdom to identify these lies. For it is only when these new false narratives are extinguished before they can begin to spread, that white supremacy will have no where to hide.

Matt Jenkins