#BlackLivesMatter
In January 2015, I was on a work trip to D.C. for my then boss's Swearing In Ceremony for her re-election to Congress. Towards the end of the trip, I sat at the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial alone in silence for a couple hours over sunset. It was below freezing and cold, but I felt warm. I felt protected by the majesty of the power of these grounds and what his memorial represents. Surrounded by Dr. King's words on the walls, I kept wondering what went wrong in the past 50 years. Ferguson had happened the summer before and #BlackLivesMatter was gaining momentum. I questioned, why is racism still so embedded in our society?
The week before, I had been in NYC and had my first experience at 24 years old of being the only white person on a crowded subway car of black Americans. I couldn't help but feel inferior by instinct. Was I in any danger? No, not at all. I knew that, but I still felt small. Is this what our black brothers and sisters have felt constantly since birth? No, they feel it much worse thanks to our country's terrible past. Past? Wait, there isn't much difference between Emmett Till and Trayvon Martin, Ahmaud Arbery or George Floyd. President Obama was still in office at the time, but that didn't mean racism was erased. History just keeps repeating itself because we are letting it. Racism isn't in the past. It is in the present and the future, if we let it and I strongly believe we are.
Later that month, I had the opportunity to go to a screening of Selma in Hollywood followed by a talk with Oprah Winfrey and David Oyelowo. It was a complete privilege and my heart was warm every minute of the experience. The movie moved me to tears. Young Congressman John Lewis was in the film and I had just seen him talking on the phone in the hallway at the Capitol earlier that month. To visualize the pain and struggle that he went through at such a young age, that was moving.
In June 2017, I was back in D.C. and I was most excited during the trip to finally visit the National Museum of African American History and Culture. It was the new Smithsonian museum and it was complete privilege that I was lucky enough to get a ticket. I walked in awe alone through the halls honoring Michael Jordan, Muhammad Ali, the Williams sisters, Michael Jackson, and more. Finally, it was time to face the Concourse and go through the pain and tears of our country's brutal history. I started at Slavery & Freedom 1400 - 1877. My head was stuck on the concept that a human could "own" another human like a prisoner. I've always struggled with understanding human egos, but this was beyond anything I could comprehend.
Moving into the next ugly history, Defending Freedom, Defining Freedom: The Era of Segregation 1876 - 1968. The names of those who were lynched and killed are engraved on the walls. Tears in my eyes, I stood there in silence re-reading the names over and over. I was shaking and realized I was eternally shaken. Beautiful names belonging to beautiful lives lost. I had seen this list of names before in a history book, but it wasn’t the same as standing beside these names and the gravity behind the exhibit. I made eye contact with a young black woman. She smiled at me and I felt her light as I tried to smile back. Tears streamed down my face.
Finally, the section that completely broke me: Emmett Till's Memorial. I knew this section was coming, but nothing can prepare you for this. I entered the re-created church with Emmett Till's casket set up for his funeral. Salted tears flooded my eyes and drenched my face and my clothes. It is absolutely beautiful and nothing can describe the pain you feel for someone so innocent. It is a true symbol of the Civil Rights Movement and why #BlackLivesMatter is so important today. If Sandy Hook shook you, Emmett Till's story should shake just as much, if not more.
There is light again in the exhibit as you enter A Changing America: 1968 and Beyond. Martin Luther King, Jr., Barack Obama, and Oprah bring hope back into the room as you see change. But here we are 50 years later and that "beyond" isn't exceptional. It isn't the change I want to see. It really isn't much change at all.
Thinking back to the walls covered with Dr. King's words that cold evening in D.C., I still feel the power and light of sitting with Dr. King in silence. Today, I don't want my voice to be the voice you hear. It is not my story. It is our brothers and our sisters' stories. I want to amplify their voices. I want you to listen and hear. The echo of those beautiful walls still hits me with: "Make a career of humanity. Commit yourself to the noble struggle for equal rights. You will make a greater person of yourself, a greater nation of your country, and a finer world to live in." Dr. King, District of Columbia, 1959.
What can you do to provoke change?
Not all of the protests are peaceful right now and I believe change happens at the source of power. I encourage you to demand a change for equality and call for collaboration with Black Lives Matter by writing and dialing your elected officials. Please reach out to me via e-mail here if you need any help or direction with this.
If you have the ability to, I highly encourage you to donate to Black Lives Matter and support their movement for a better world in the future. You can donate here.