Civil Rights

53 years later… “The March Continues”

For two days of our service at Resurrection Catholic Mission school (Montgomery, AL), I had the opportunity to meet the second grade class. Lily, Jo’ Liam, John, Grayson, Natalie, Jenya, and Cayden have touched me ways I could have not imagined. They welcomed me with open arms, sharing their stories about their families, their interests, and they’re vibrant youth. I supported Mrs. A by completing some logistical tasks while she led the class through counting money problems, sentence corrections, and reading comprehension. During PE class, I had overwhelming feelings of nostalgia as the kids ran around and made up their own games. During PE and lunch time, the students asked me many questions about college, my upbringing in Southern California and my experience traveling. Many of them have not been out of the state of Alabama, let alone their own town. It was rewarding to be able to share my life with them and learn more about their lives.

 

March 25, 1965 Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

May 15, 2018 Taylor Nathaniel Stewart

Same podium.

Different men.

Different time.

Same dream.

While I walk through the valley of the gallows of death, I fear evil. Where were thou? Where was thou rod? Where was thou staff? Where was thou comfort?

Echoing across the pillars of my mind, one thought began to ring

There is no God

There is no god

there is no god

Jefferson Davis standing in front of the Alabama State Capital Building

i can not hear him

i can not smell him

i can not taste him

But i can see him

And i can feel him

Towering tall in front of me, i can see a man who would have hated me for who i am

And i feel…small

Our day began with an eye opening tour from Frank White, a member of the historic First African Baptist Church in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. This church and many community members were affected by the event that came to be known as Bloody Tuesday, an event that is left out of the commonly taught civil rights narrative.

In 1964, Tuscaloosa’s black community was disheartened to find that their newly built courthouse contained segregated bathrooms and water fountains. Reverend T.Y. Rogers took action and organized a peaceful protest.

On June 9th people filled the First African Baptist Church in preparation to march to the courthouse. As they began leaving for the march tear gas was launched through the church’s stained glass windows, and when people tried to leave the building they were met with police batons, bricks, and rocks. They were presented with two choices: stay in a room filled with tear gas, or submit to violence and/or arrest.

Thirty-three men, women, and children were hospitalized that day and ninety-four people were arrested.

Today our immersion group walked the five blocks between the church and the courthouse in peace and were humbled by our access. Our hearts go out to the people who were never able to take those steps, to the Tuscaloosans who courageously put their lives at risk by standing up to injustice.

Our hearts go out to all of today’s poc protestors who sacrifice their lives for justice, for a better nation.

I have a dream.

Given that we’re traveling the South, I recognize that this is neither a new dream nor an original one.

Because it is still a dream since it isn’t yet a reality.

However

I’ve seen broken windows, broken homes, but not broken spirits

I’ve seen the old and weathered faces of those who have weathered an old and heavy storm

But most importantly, I’ve also seen what gives them hope.

“You,” they said.

A group of young college kids from Portland

A nurse, a biologist, an environmentalist, a communication professional, a fourth grade teacher, a counselor, a criminologist, a lawyer, a journalist, a historian, a political scientist, and a kindergarten teacher…to be.

A group of young college kids ready to dream the dream.

To follow the dream, even when they don’t know where it will take them

To feel the dream, even when it’s not tangible

To believe in the dream, even when others don’t see it

And to be the dream…because that’s what gives others hope.

Ballad of Birmingham
BY DUDLEY RANDALL
(On the bombing of a church in Birmingham, Alabama, 1963)
“Mother dear, may I go downtown
Instead of out to play,
And march the streets of Birmingham
In a Freedom March today?”

“No, baby, no, you may not go,
For the dogs are fierce and wild,
And clubs and hoses, guns and jails
Aren’t good for a little child.”

“But, mother, I won’t be alone.
Other children will go with me,
And march the streets of Birmingham
To make our country free.”

“No, baby, no, you may not go,
For I fear those guns will fire.
But you may go to church instead
And sing in the children’s choir.”

She has combed and brushed her night-dark hair,
And bathed rose petal sweet,
And drawn white gloves on her small brown hands,
And white shoes on her feet.

The mother smiled to know her child
Was in the sacred place,
But that smile was the last smile
To come upon her face.

For when she heard the explosion,
Her eyes grew wet and wild.
She raced through the streets of Birmingham
Calling for her child.

She clawed through bits of glass and brick,
Then lifted out a shoe.
“O, here’s the shoe my baby wore,
But, baby, where are you?”

Today was our first full day in Birmingham, Alabama. We attended the Civil Rights Institute and Kelly Ingram Park. The location of the Civil Rights Institute is directly across the street from the 16th street Baptist church, the site of multiple bombings that’s left four young girls dead and 20 others injured. Kelly Ingram Park is the site of the first mass beatings of the freedom riders and it was also an assembly point for the Sourhern Christian Leadership Confernce and its participants, where they planned sit-ins, boycotts, marches designed to end segragation in Birmingham.

The intensity of the physical evidence, photos, and audio at both the institute and the park left us with a mixed bag of feelings. Hate, sadness, pride, and joy were present in all of us today. While we were able to walk through the institute and park as individuals, our group reflection gave us a place to share those feelings. We are grateful to have seen and heard the courage that carried the civil rights movement and we feel the need to adopt their unflinching patience. Although we only verbally reflected on our feelings and the strength of the black community in Birmingham, we are better equipped to meaningfully engage with our Pilot and Portland community.

https://sites.up.edu/servelearn/4916-2/