Loraine Motel and National Civil Rights Museum

Today, we visited the Loraine Motel in Memphis, Tennessee. This motel was where Martin Luther King was assassinated April 4, 1968 on the balcony, in front of room 306. Of course, I’ve learned about this event in many times before, but being at the actual place where this event happened was really emotional for me. I actually stood where he stood as when he was shot. Then, we were able to stand where the sniper was and read about the long investigation of his murder. The alleged killers name was James Earl Ray. Being in the museum sort of angered me. I don’t understand how people can just be so cruel and rather live in hatred than in peace.

I think today was the hardest for me. While at the Loraine Motel, everything felt so alive. I could imagine the scene in my head. Dr. King being on the balcony, and seeing his body fall to the ground from the gunshots. He was a man who fought for the rights of all people and was put through the amount of pain, but still remained humble. Dr. King wanted nothing but peace and love. I admire his bravery so much. I’m not sure if I would have been able to tolerate the hate that he received from others. Dr. King was a bold man!

 

--Kori

Religion

By Sofie Rudin, The Park School of Baltimore

I am an adamant skeptic of religion. Usually, I think of religious institutions as divisive social structures. I dropped out of Hebrew school and am firmly nonreligious. 

            On the Sunday before MLK day, we visited Ebenezer Baptist Church, and I initially considered myself a religious tourist, coming to see the church of Martin Luther King Jr.’s childhood, which he later returned to as a preacher. But as soon as the choir began to sing, I was swept up in the sound and knew I was more than simply a spectator; I sang, with the whole congregation, as loudly as I could. And then the pastor began to speak. He spoke of how the Kingdom of Heaven is threatened violence. He spoke of the humiliation of unemployment and the injustice of poverty—of working minimum wage full time and over time and still being unable to afford a two-bedroom apartment. He spoke of prison—how a two-month sentence is, in reality, a life sentence—the war on drugs, and gun legislation. And he spoke about how these forms of violence are affecting our communities today, describing problems with incredible passion and conviction.

            For half an hour, the pastor became the conscience of the community. Not only did he talk about political and social agendas, but he also gave moral advice: he said that if you’ve never had hard times because of what you say, you ought to examine the truth of the gospel you’re preaching. He reminded us that what affects one of us directly affects all of us indirectly, as Dr. King did. He preached these messages with caring force and thoughtful leadership.

            When we sang “We Shall Overcome” at the end of the service, with our arms around one another, I realized that, though I do not believe in God, I believe in the power of religious communities to provide support. The moral and emotional support, provided by both the words of the pastor and the music of the choir, was so clearly enormous.  I understood, for the first time, the importance of the role of religion. I am by no means a convert. The way I felt in the church similar to how I feel standing in the mountains or cooking, eating, and laughing impossibly hard with friends, and, more importantly, I mumbled and averted my eyes when God was mentioned, particularly Jesus. But regardless of the actual religion, I saw for the first time how the support, guidance, and community provided by churches across the South were essential to the civil rights movement. Fear and doubt disappeared during the service, I felt full of hope and was compelled to dedicate myself to making the world better,

            In the aftermath of that experience, doubt has returned, along with my skeptical questions. Firstly, I began to wonder whether the support and guidance were enough to foster a world-changing movement, or whether faith in God, or at the very least some higher power is necessary as well. (I hope not, but I’m not sure.) I also wonder: how united must the values of a community be in order to create this type of sustaining support? And how does this affect people who fall between groups?

            We watched Obama’s (second!) inauguration from the Southern Poverty Law center the following day, which was absolutely incredible, except for  the religious language and content used in the ceremony. The references to Jesus in the final benediction troubled me, and I was disturbed by the words, “one nation under God,” more than usual. But most of all, I was intensely bothered by the fact that both Obama and Biden took their oaths with their hand on a bible. Religion felt like a uniting force in Ebenezer, but suddenly turned sinister in government—an institutionalized form of segregation. Would it be possible for us to elect a Muslim, Jewish, or nonreligious president? If we did, what book would they take their oath of office over?

Parting Advice Part 1

         This past summer, a group of teachers from Park School went on a version of the same Civil Rights Trip that I am experiencing now. Although it was a small group of teachers, from only one school, and although they weren't on the road for as long as we will be, they swore by the trip, saying that it was one of the most meaningful and touching experiences of their lives. They were eager to impart on us so much advice on how to make the most of every moment. 

         The teachers gave us tips on what to look out for and where to find them. They gave us the names of people involved in the movement whose stories had been particularly inspirational. However, it was one piece of advice that stuck out to me, and following it has proved to enhance my trip in immeasurable ways. I have grown to appreciate the overwhelming (in a great way) pool of information that has been placed in front of me in the past four days, in an unexpected and extremely exciting way.

         I was walking in the hallway at school when I was stopped by one of the teachers who had been on the trip. He said I had asked him if he could give us any one piece of advice, what would it be? He said that after having given it some thought, I should focus on the people who were going to be on the trip with me. The prospective relationships with my peers were what could make the trip something truly unique. With this advice in mind, I joined everyone on the bus at City College and we left for North Carolina. 

- Rachel Hettleman

Group Discussions - Kori, Rashard, Chutney, Naomi, Devon, Rebecca

QUESTION: Which is more the underlying education problem in the U.S.--- race or poverty? How do we fix it? Where do we start?

" I think race and poverty fall in the same line. In most cases, private schools tend to have better education because they have more money in the school. Those who don't have the means, or cannot afford private school aren't able to receive that same level of education." - Kori Burston

" I think that race and poverty goes hand and hand." -Chutney Yates

"I think that race sometimes implies the economic status of the people, in which influence the education they have. Something that we can do is to create a equal opportunity for everybody to afford a decide education." -Devon C. Floyd

"I actually do not think either of the two are a problem in education. Some students do well and work hard and others do not, no matter the race or finical status"- Rashard Roles

"I really have issue with saying that race causes problems in education, the way that this question seems to be phrased. Segregation and race does occur in institutions of education but people of all races are equally able to learn. I think that education problems come from economic origins. Schools without funds simply have to struggle more to provide opportunity for the students. By no means am I saying that richer schools provide better educations. But I think that schools that are perceived as poor will get less attention and less money and are valued less in our capitalistic society. In many places poverty falls along racial lines and because public schools that aren't magnet schools are zoned, many schools end up with groups of less well off people that in many cases are the same race, creating segregated schools which are often perceived as not as able as richer schools and get less attention and funds. It's a vicious cycle that might involve both race and poverty, but I think ultimately money is what puts positive focus on a school and, subsequently might lead to a "better" school whether it be private or public or anything in between. But I also acknowledge that I might have a screwed view not living in a city and going to a predominantly white private school. " --Rebecca Schwartz

Making the Civil Rights Trip Mandatory for High-schoolers

           The question should the Civil Rights Trip be made mandatory for high-schoolers was posed to us today. Ultimately, we have decided that the answer is no. The main reason is that if the trip were to be made mandatory, the students participating would not be there by choice - similar to all the young activists who participated in the Civil Rights Movement. This is a crucial factor that unites all of us and allows us to fully appreciate the trip; the speakers, the history and each other. We would not feel quite as comfortable with one another as we do now if the trip were mandatory. Because  every single person decided to take this journey on their own, there are no restrictions on our discussions. Cost is also a huge factor. It would be extremely difficult to raise money for every high-schooler to attend the trip. Of course, there is an argument for yes as well. Students who would not initially think they would benefit from the trip may have some great realization or life changing experience. People who only have learned from books and school would be able to experience knowledge in a different way. In addition, someone who would not make it through the selection process might really gain a lot from the experience. However, by making it mandatory there would be huge numbers of students on the trip who would not be that interested. The nature of the trip would also change. The personal connections made between civil rights activists we spoke to us (such as John Lewis, Clinton Sellers, Lewis Brandon, Catherine Burks-Brooks, Cleo Goree, Willie Rivers, and Dr. Sybil Hampton) would just not be possible with such large and continuous groups. The personal connection to history that we have all created through the course of the trip would also not be as strong. The trip should be open to everyone instead of being mandatory and instead of having an application process. Nevertheless, a commitment to fundraising and the larger group would still be necessary. The goal of the Civil Rights trip is to educate young people and allow them to experience history and the struggle of the "others." This is would not be possible if the trip were to be made mandatory.

- Beth, Jess (Park), Ella, Morgan, Hal (City), and Sam (City Neighbors)

Would you have been brave enough to fight for equal rights in the 1950's and 60's? How about now?

In our group we talked about how it would be terribly hard to deal with the physical, verbal, and psychological abuse that people faced in the time of the movement. After a long duration of continuous abuse, it starts to get to you and you start to believe what people are calling you. The general consensus was that it also would be hard to remain nonviolent. We would have to take classes in remaining nonviolent. A few of us come from families where remaining stoic is the norm, which in one sense would help us in staying nonviolent, but on the other hand it would force us to further internalize the abuse and hardships. One person talked about how it would actually be hard to speak up if they saw abuse going on. The risk that it would bring upon them and their family would be too much and they wouldn't be comfortable.

In today's society, standing up for what we believe in doesn't necessarily risk our lives as it did in the 50's and 60's, so we feel that it's easier. With issues like immigration, marriage equality and others, we feel as if standing up for equality now is a lot easier than it was back then. A few of us do actively stand up for equal rights already, and feel as if because it's not about such radical movements, speaking up for what we believe in isn't as threatening and dangerous. We know that it would be tough and dangerous to stand up but we couldn't sit on the sidelines and watch. It took a while for people to act upon the realization that things need to change. We took that and formed the conclusion that while it may be hard to decide in the beginning, we would definitely stand up in the end.

-Baylor, Nikki, Will A, Will K, Daleth, and Kelsey
-1.24.2013

Does race matter?

Group: Jamani Epps, Kindle Cox, Rachel Hettleman, Lia Adams, Sophie Bauerschmidt Sweeney, Christopher Mergen, Hilde Wulf
Question: Does race matter?

We began our discussion about the difference between whether race should matter and whether it does matter. We decided as a group that it really shouldn’t have to matter, but that it does, given the society we live in, and that its existence in society is beyond the control of any one individual. We discussed how it matters in instances like affirmative action—it wouldn’t be fair for colleges to evaluate a student from Simmons in the same way that they would evaluate a student from Dear Creek, the white private school in the area. We also discussed how race and class are inextricably conjoined, so the question of how race affects people materially is more complicated than just race.

We then went on to discuss whether race should matter given the society that we do have and how the elimination of race would affect African American culture. Because African Americans have no one place of origin within Africa and because there are so many different African cultures, we weren’t sure whether “African American” should be considered a race or an ethnicity. We decided that if it is a race (because it consists of so many varied ethnicities), African American culture could be a positive result of race having mattered in the past. At this point, Stacy joined our conversation and pointed out that African American culture can be very divisive and is therefore not necessarily a good thing. She also made the point that because slaves didn’t know their place of origin, “African American” can in some ways be considered an ethnicity because there often isn’t a cultural link between African Americans and their ancestral places of origin.

Ultimately, we decided that race definitely does matter in our society, but also that the ways in which it can matter—and the ways it can be either good or bad—are much more complicated that a fifteen minute conversation.