Social Stratification in the Deep South

When Dr. Smith emailed us a few days ago about writing a final journal, my mind raced about all the things I could talk about.  Upon returning home, I have retold the story of our amazing journey many times, each time with different aspects sticking out to me or impacting me more profoundly.  I’ve found it difficult to communicate the passion and emotion seeing so many things first hand has given me.  I want people to understand all the aspects and take in all the sights, smells, and emotions we felt at every step of the way.  I want everyone I know to have an experience like I had, one that leaves you changed forever.  I want everyone else to feel the burden that I feel…that complacency is no longer a desire, no longer an option.  I want all my friends and family to see and feel the impact of injustice and to know that we all need to be working tirelessly to eradicate it.

So many things have changed in my heart in the last 3 weeks.  I don’t really know what I envisioned the trip being like or how I dreamed it would work in my heart.  Never could I have ever imagined two more wonderful weeks.  Never could I have hoped to feel such a strong call on my life.  Growing up in the United Methodist Church, I’ve heard the words of John Wesley over and over again:

“Do all the good you can,
by all the means you can,
in all the ways you can,
in all the places you can,
at all the times you can,
to all the people you can,
as long as ever you can.”

After the trip, these have taken on all new meaning for me.  It really makes me think about the ways and the places I spend my time.  The idea of doing ALL the good I can in ALL the ways I can goes far beyond the places and ways I currently spend my time.  This is not to say that the things I do are not good nor that they are not worthy of my time.  It is only to say that this trip has made me realized just how precious the resources that I have are, and that what may seem like such a small thing to me would actually mean the world to someone else.

During our last reflection time, Marcus asked us to think about the one thing that we were going to take home with us from the trip…the one thing that would most profoundly impact our actions when we returned.  My response was about the role of the church, specifically the white church, in perpetuating the ideals of racism, oppression, and intolerance.  In my 20 years, I’ve poured myself into many different ministries and faith-based organizations.  In high school, my life revolved around church.  At Wake, my primary involvement is in campus ministries.  It literally broke my heart to learn of the problems an institution that I hold so near and dear to my heart had created in the lives of many.  But in a lot of ways, this is a good thing because it shows how overpowering this impact was to me…and that it leaves me with little option.  While I’ve yet to gain insight on exactly what it means, I feel a strong calling to public service, especially in a way that would reverse any vestiges of this intolerant sentiment.  The church should be filled with love and acceptance.  I don’t know what this ultimately means for my life, vocation, etc, but I do know that it has gripped my heart and shows no sign of letting go.

Earlier this week, I reread Martin Luther King’s “Letter from Birmingham Jail.”  I came across a passage that sums up my experience: “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.”  Most of the things that I saw have little direct bearing on my life…but this doesn’t diminish the fact that they are of utmost importance and fully deserving of my attention.  I am tied to each of the people I met on this trip.  Whatever struggles they face, I need to be paying attention to.  Many of them do not have an ability to fight for themselves.  I, however, have the ability to fight for them.  It may be in small ways now, but I know it will be in big ways in the future.  So fight I will…

Day 13: This morning we checked out of the Casino Hotel in Tunica and headed back to Clarkesdale to give back to the local community…by going shopping.Merry, Lauren and I walked up and down the main street, going into shops and talking to the owners.The first one we went to has really adorable gifts.We each got a few things and spent about twenty minutes talking to the women running it.They were very sweet and got excited when we told them that we were staying at the Shack Up Inn that night.The whole experience of standing and talking to them reminded me of something that Katie said on the first day.She commented about how she had worked in retail in North Carolina and in D.C.In the south, patrons were very likely to strike up a conversation and engage the sales person.In D.C., this would never happen.People wanted to get in and out and on with their lives.Standing and talking for so long with these women made me laugh on the inside about yet more differences between the south and other areas of the nation.

After we shopped, we walked over to Ground Zero for lunch.This restaurant is owned by Morgan Freeman and doubles as a juke joint at night.After having been to Po’ Monkey’s two nights before, it was quite a different environment.Before getting off of the bus, Dr. Smith asked us to think about authenticity.These two juke joints could not differ more.Ground Zero seemed like a complete tourist attraction and, while fun, did not have the feel of traveling back to the days of sharecropping that Po’ Monkey’s did.The food was great and the environment still fun, just different.

Tonight we’re staying at the Shack Up Inn. It is made up of several old sharecropping shacks that have been gathered together to allow tourists the experience of living in that time.These homes now have running water and air conditioning, so it’s not quite the same, but still a lot of fun.The shack where Lauren and I are staying is really adorable!

Days 14 and 15: The past two days we’ve mainly been traveling. I think we’re all starting to be ready to be home, but it’s pretty bittersweet because we’ve had so much fun and grown so close.We traveled home through Tennessee, stopping in Knoxville for our last night.

Today was incredibly intense. We went to Parchman Prison to gain an understanding about what life in prison is like. I don’t guess that I’d ever really given it that much thought, so I didn’t go into it with very many expectations. What I saw and learned was deeply powerful. When we first got to Parchman, one of the prisoners came in and talked to us about his experience there. The stories he, and the other prisoners we spoke to throughout the day, told us were some of the most alarming I have ever heard.

I’ve never been to a prison before, most certainly not a farm prison like Parchman. It sits on 18,000 acres of land, most of which is farmland. They grown all sorts of crops, have catfish ponds, and have factory type jobs where the inmates work. So many thoughts went racing through my head when we drove past all these fields. I imagined all the men working in them, and the only images that flashed through my mind were ones of slavery. I know that these men committed crimes and should have to face the consequences, but after listening to them speak, I have to wonder about the levels that we consider to be humane treatment. We had a very interesting conversation yesterday about working in prisons. In many places, prisoners are paid a nominal wage for their services. It was interesting to hear both sides to this discussion, because I’m not sure how I feel about it. One side points out that these men are supposed to be facing punishment, so it makes little sense to take jobs away from people in the free world to give them to prisoners. The other side says that if we give prisoners a way to earn wages, when they get out, they will be less likely to return back to prison. While both are compelling arguments, I have to say that I think I would side with the second one. As a nation, the US outsources millions of low-wage jobs. If these jobs were instead given to prisoners, it would really help their families and it would increase the likelihood of them making it in the free world.

Another compelling thing I observed had to do with sentencing. It is so alarming to me the intensity of drug sentences, especially when they are taken in comparison to rapes, child molestations, and murders. Someone charged with manslaughter can be jailed for fifteen to twenty five years and someone in possession of crack cocaine can be in for forty…this just doesn’t seem logical to me. I am not advocating that drug users and dealers should not be punished, but more so am curious how we can weight that more heavily than someone who has taken a human life. Moreover, a child abuser serves an average of about 6 years, I think. Unfortunately, the victim of that crime serves a lifetime sentence. Many will relive the haunting images of that act every day for the rest of their lives. And this person only deserves to be punished for 6 years? I don’t think so…

When we first arrived at Parchman, the prisoner said something that really hit me hard. He said, “For us, every day is a life sentence, because we have no idea what tomorrow holds.” I can’t even fathom what it would feel like to live everyday with that burden.

Today we went on a tour of the delta. I was unsure exactly of what we would be doing, so I didn’t really have very many expectations. The only thing that was startling to me was how little recognition is given to important things like Emmett Till’s death. The important Civil Rights locations in Alabama have huge monuments and such. I was glad to hear Dr. Brown say that they are in the process of establishing historical markers for locations like this. It would just be such a shame for events like Till’s death to fade into the backdrop of history, with no continual reminders of the profound impact this had on one of the most important movements in our nation’s history.

We went into one of the poorest neighborhoods I’ve ever seen. While we had lunch at the local drug store, a professor from the local traditionally black university came by to speak to us. He was talking to us about the demographics of the city and my jaw literally dropped at the things he told us. He said that once we drove across the tracks (literally), we would find two black families in the entire affluent side of town. I have no idea what the count in South Tampa would be, but I’m certain we would have way more than that. His point was to show us the intense racial component of socio-economic status. This fact was so alarming to me, that it was barely possible for me to comprehend this reality.

Another interesting thing we learned today was about the development of the blues. Having never learned a single thing about this type of music, everything I learned was so fascinating. I really liked learning about how the music developed in response to the hardship faced by the sharecroppers. Since music is so important to my life and many of my best memories can be associated with specific songs or types of music, I love when others have the same reaction. While it’s tragic that these people had to endure such hardship, I think that music can have such a liberating effect, so it’s wonderful that this group of people were able to use music.

Tonight we went to Po’ Monkeys, which was such a blast! It’s an old juke joint where a blues band was playing. While I thought the environment was a little odd at first, I really started enjoying the music and the atmosphere.

This morning we went to a mega church in New Orleans. Going in, I expected lots of fancy technology, flash displays of church wealth, and a new, modern structure. While the commercialization of the church was abundantly clear, I would not say that the other aspects were necessarily present. When we came in, someone handed us several pieces of paper and brochures…none of which contained an order of worship. Several times during the service, the speakers made announcements, referring to different causes or occasions to give money. I’m certain that I had never heard “and you can make your check out to…and if you want to pay with a credit card” so many times in a CHURCH service. In fact, I’ve never been to a service where money plays such a large role. They took up three different offerings. The first one was for tithing, the second was for some special offering, and the third was for the pastor’s birthday. It was all I could do not to sit open-mouthed for the entirety of this proceeding. This is so radically different from the church where I was raised. In my church, which is United Methodist, they take up the offering once. Sometimes there is a special offering, but it is part of the regular tithe collection. No differentiation is made. And there would most certainly never be a collection taken up for the preacher’s birthday. I found this deeply offensive and even an irresponsible action on the part of a church, located in such a poor community.

After church, we had a lively discussion about this on the bus. When I pointed out how I did not like the idea of taking up a birthday offering, many of the boys acted like this was normal operating procedure, or at least like it was not outside the realm of acceptable actions. They pointed out that the money probably would not go directly to the preacher and that it’s the same as buying her a birthday present. I just feel as if there is a better ways to accomplish the same thing…especially given the neighborhood where this church is located. It is right around the corner from where we stayed over spring break. When we were here then, the people running the organization we were working with said this was one of the poorest areas, with a shockingly high crime rate. It would seem to me that making your church members, who likely live in the area close to the church, feel obligated to give so much money is not an economically responsible decision on the part of the church…at least with respect to supporting its members. I think it is one thing to have church members tithe in support of the church. This is a Biblically rooted exercise that is expected of those who believe. People who support the church can generally turn to the church for support in their times of need, making tithing helpful for allowing the church to give back to you. And this is the entire point of tithing. The idea behind it is to give to God what He deserves because of how good He has been to you…and He will bless you in return. Having a church family to turn to in times of desperate need can be one form of such blessing.

Visiting this church was most definitely a great experience. As I have never been to a church anything like this, it was quite eye opening. However, the extreme commercialization of this church is deeply distressing to me because it takes away from the message of Christianity by giving people the perception that they must or can buy their ways into salvation.

Today (Day was a pretty low key day. We got up and a few people went to the library. The rest of us went to breakfast and the laundromat. After everyone had finished up with laundry and the last oral history at the library, we headed to New Orleans. I was really excited to come back and see the city, after having been here for spring break. Coming into the city, I was again impacted by the massive destruction that is still present. While the damage is not quite so severe here as it is in Bay Saint Louis, I think there will always a special place in my heart for the people of this city. We had a low key afternoon pretty much to spend however we would like. Lauren, Tania and I walked around the area by our hotel for a little while, before heading over to Bourbon Street to meet up with the other girls for dinner. It’s like entering a different world, walking from Canal Street onto Bourbon. I guess I never really walked down much of it the night we came downtown while we were here on spring break. Even at like 6, there were people walking around with drinks, some stumbling, and girls with very little clothing on, walking to work. Never in my life have I seen so many bars and flashy lights. It was quite a culture shock, to say the least.

Today (Day 9) we went to visit ACORN, an agency who works with city development, helps educate people about their rights, and fights those government agencies trying to infringe on those rights. It was shocking to hear what the woman who worked there had to say about how the poor were being taken advantage of. I think it’s despicable that the government and its agencies consider it acceptable to take from those who don’t have the knowledge to realize that they’re being taken advantage of. I think the thing that really inspired me the most about what this woman was saying was that it sounds a lot like what I want to do. The idea that someone can have their voting rights restricted or their home taken away just because someone can get away with it is completely unacceptable.

After talking to this woman, we went to look at some of the homes that they have been rebuilding in the Lower 9^th ward. I was again pained to look at all the destruction. As I noticed when working in this neighborhood over spring break, there are NO people around. We got out and walked around for a few minutes. Other than a group of workers, there was no one else there. It concerns me, especially after what the ACORN woman said about the government seizing property. If these people are not here rebuilding, it makes me think that this whole area will be demolished and transformed into some other type of housing…not of a low income variety.

Today was easily the most moving day of the trip. Yesterday was powerful in seeing the total destruction, but today was so incredibly compelling in that I got to have extensive conversations with two people affected by the hurricane. Even though I would love to share all of their stories with everyone so that they could have the same experience I did, out of respect for their privacy, I’m just going to talk about the things they said that had the greatest impact on me.

The first person we talked to made one comment that really moved me. She said, “FEMA and insurance don’t make you whole.” While there are levels on which I knew this to be the case, to hear the words come out of her mouth made me stop and think. In response to the news reports about the aid to victims, so much attention is paid to the type of aid that these people are receiving that we forget that the repercussions run so much deeper. The emotional havoc the destruction was wreaked on these people absolutely breaks my heart. I’m not sure what we can do to help with that, other than to offer expressions of love and support in their efforts to rebuild.

Our second interview was equally moving. The man we interviewed spent the first few minutes speaking at length about his love for the community before the storm and what a wonderful place it was to live. It brought tears to my eyes to hear him talk about his home with such love. What was also striking was the generosity that this man continued to exhibit, despite the fact that he and his wife lost everything they had. I don’t know how anyone could continue to have such a gracious and giving attitude. He told us a story about doing repair work that really touched me. His brother and a friend from college had come down to help them clean out their house and get it ready for repairs. Because of all the debris in the yard, they couldn’t see out into the street. He turned to his family and friend and said, “How are we ever going to get all of this done?” No sooner where the words out of his mouth than he heard a voice outside asking if anyone needed any help. He gave the indication that having groups come in and help was what allowed the city to achieve as much as it has in two and a half years. More than anything else, I just wanted to make it all right again for him and his wife. While I know that I can’t realistically do this, I like to think that giving him an opportunity to talk about his experience had a cathartic effect.

This morning we went to the Hancock County Library.  The people who talked to us while we were there were so generous and a joy to be around.  It was amazing to see the huge hearts they had for each other and for the community they love so much.  The library served as the central location for educating people about what to do in the days after the storm.  It housed the National Guard and was one of the only buildings with functioning restrooms and air conditioning, if not the only.  The women and men who run the library system for the county were willing to make great sacrifices of time and effort to help those in their communities who were left without anything.  The amazing thing about this is that those providing the assistance were left without anything as well.  I’m really excited to get to talk with them more tomorrow and to hear the stories of so many in their communities who have experienced such devastating loss.

After lunch, we took a tour of Bay Saint Louis, Waveland, and the small communities in the area.  Words cannot describe the heartbreaking loss we saw.  I thought that the devastation was bad in New Orleans when I was there over spring break.  The most extreme locations there cannot begin to compare to what we saw in the communities today.  These people literally lost everything.  In most areas, especially those homes right on the water, nothing was left but the foundation of the house or the lot where a house once stood.  Two images really stick in my mind.  At the bank in Waveland (I think), all that remained was the vault.  The building which this was enclosed within was completely gone.  Another image gave a visual representation to what was seen the day of the storm.  At Prima’s house, their boat was lifted up over the trees (because that’s how high the water went) and landed in the middle of a wooded area.  When you look at the scene now, the boat still sitting in the same spot, it’s confusing as to how it got there.  The trees around it aren’t broken down, so the only answer is that the water carried it there and when the water went down, the boat landed.  These trees were huge.  It finally gave me a means for conceptualizing what 30 to 40 foot water would look like.

I think the most shocking thing is that it has been two years and so much looks like the storm happened a few months ago.  Much debris has been removed, but most of the homes we saw have not begun reconstruction efforts.  This speaks volumes to the amount of effort required to rebuild an entire community.  It also shows just how severe the devastation was.

As I sat back and thought about it this afternoon, I wondered about the ways in which a natural disaster like this can perpetuate inequality.  It seems to me that many of those with community connections and some monetary means have been able to move or rebuild.  While my heart breaks for all those affected by the hurricane in any way, I go to pieces when I think about those who literally have nothing.  Their homes were all they had in this world and now those are gone, along with all the memories that the walls held inside.  Many people got very small insurance payoffs.  What do those without accrued wealth or volunteers to come help them do to get a new home?  Who is there to help them?  Do they know the resources available to them?  Do they know who to ask for help?  Just some questions to ponder when thinking about the storm…hopefully some of them will get answered tomorrow.

Today we went to the Southern Poverty Law Center. It was my favorite thing we’ve done so far on the trip. I have loved learning about all the Civil Rights history, and this event combined learning more stuff with more of a way to combat current problems…or at least a knowledge of the current issues and an awareness that someone is doing something about it. We talked at length about the hate groups that are currently in existence. The SPL Center’s map of Active U.S. Hate Groups allows you to click on your state and see the hate groups in each city. It also has descriptions of all of them. It’s really informative and interesting.

I was shocked to see that Florida has the third highest number of groups. This is incredibly alarming to me. I thought for sure that there would be more groups from the deep south. It just really gave me a stomach ache to think that a place that I love so much can hold within it so much hatred.

After the presentation, a few of us stood around and talked to the man who gave the presentation. It was really cool to hear him talk about all the things that the law center does. I’ve really been feeling lately that I want to work in the non-profit sector. I just love the idea of making helping others my life’s work. And this place seems like an ideal place to do so. It combines my love for politics and my passion for social justice in a way that directly impacts the lives of those who desperately need the assistance. He said that they hire interns every summer, which would be such an amazing opportunity.

After this, we drove to Selma to walk across the Edmund Pettis Bridge. It was powerful beyond what words could describe to stand at the top and know that the marchers stood there with no clue what waited them on the other side. Because of the way that the bridge arches, you cannot see the bottom from the top. I don’t think that, even in their worst nightmares they imagined that they would be met with billy clubs and tear gas. I certainly would not have thought that. As I talked about yesterday, the atrocities of the event are shocking to me. I will never be able to comprehend what went through the minds of the white police officers, government officials, and intolerant citizens during all these years.

Today being Memorial Day, nearly everything in Montgomery was closed. This gave the city a really interesting feel, especially considering it’s the capital. But I guess that’s why the effect was so strong. We’re staying close to downtown, so all the federal buildings down there were closed and not too many people were around.

This morning we went to the Interpretive Center on the Selma-Montgomery Trail. We watched a really great film on the Selma-Montgomery March. I find that a lot of films of this nature lose my attention, but this one didn’t. As could be expected, I was again appalled at what I learned. My roommates and I had to do some research on the event last night, so it wasn’t all new information, but we got to see film of the original event, which gave it a new perspective. On the first attempt of the march, often called Bloody Sunday, the marchers were only able to get six blocks, to the Edmund Pettis Bridge. When the crossed over the bridge, they were attacked with tear gas and billy clubs. The images of this were heartbreaking. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to go through that. It’s so hard to see all these images and to think that people legitimately thought it was acceptable to treat others in that manner. There is simply no justification or excuse for these actions.

After we finished the movie, we were walking through the rest of the mini museum. While we were doing so, this man came in and started talking to us. He was a resident of the area who was just driving past and saw the bus, so he came in to talk to whoever was touring. He walked around with us for a bit, and when we got to an enlarged picture of five men from the day of the march, he told us about how he was one of them, the one on the end. Susan took a picture of him next to the life-size picture of him from so many years ago. It was so nice of him to come and talk to us. There was no reason for him to come in, yet he did.

The land where this memorial site is constructed is the place were displaced sharecroppers lived. When the civil rights movement started, white landowners kicked the African Americans who worked for them (and lived off their land) out, giving them nowhere to live. This area between Selma and Montgomery was one of a few “tent towns” that were constructed. Families lived in tents, some for a few years, in all sorts of weather. It made me think back to the night I spent camping in the snow over Easter Break. We spent one night in it and all thought we were dying. It was easily one of the most intense experiences of many of our lives. None of us slept a wink. Now place that as a common occurrence during the winter months. I don’t think it probably snows really frequently in Alabama, but it certainly gets much colder than would be comfortable. The sacrifices these people made are astounding. Moreover, the fact that it was a necessary step angers me. I just wish everyone could really believe and accept that all men were created equal…and start treating people that way. It is 2007, after all.

When we got back to Montgomery, we had a very interesting reflection time. Marcus had us read this article that had statements pointing out instances of white privilege. There were a lot of really obvious ones, such as “I can if I wish arrange to be in the company of people of my race most of the time.” On the other hand, there were tons that I had never really thought about, or at least not thought about at length. Some examples are: “I do not have to educate my children to be aware of systematic racism for their own daily physical protection…I can do well in a challenging situation without being called a credit to my race…I can choose blemish color or bandages in “flesh” color and have them more or less match my skin.” These were all things I’d honestly never considered. The idea of training your children to deal with racism makes me so sad. I can’t believe we have to raise children in a society where that must be done. And there’s little being done to change that fact. During our discussion, Marcus had only the African Americans talk, so as to let them comfortably voice their personal experiences. I was upset to hear every one of them tell multiple stories of daily racist encounters. It really is true, what Dr. Hattery had us discuss last semester…those in privilege never have to think about their privileges. Those who are underprivileged constantly have to consider it. While I think this will always be the case for most people, I am so glad that I came on this trip because it is opening my eyes to so many things that I’d never once considered, leaving me more aware of how the smallest things that I, or other people, do can have terrible emotional effects on others.

After this, we walked down to the downtown area. We walked down Commerce street to the area where the old slave trade auction block was located. Now an elaborate fountain stands in its place. We all thought it was quite interesting that the name of the street where the trading block used to sit was Commerce…and really rather appalling. After this we walked to Martin Luther King, Jr.’s old church. It’s so exciting to walk past so many areas with such rich history. After that we continued to the capitol building. This building was the original white house and capital of the confederacy, before it moved to Richmond. There are monuments of all sort of historic Alabamians around the building. In addition there is an atrocious confederate monument that seemed almost as tall as the building. It had sayings on there about the “knightliest of the knightly race” and “the great fight” and talked about the white in the confederate flag as being symbolic for purity. It was all I could do not to throw up. It was the most disgusting display of southern backwardness and intolerance that I have ever seen. It was all I could do not to cry at the sight of it, for I knew how much it hurt the people I was with and how much it would continue to hurt others who saw it later. Once again I was unable to understand how someone could think that it is okay to construct such a thing, no less something of the size that is was and next to the capitol building. Clearly Alabama has progressed by leaps and bounds since the end of the Civil War…and the Civil Rights Movement. Or maybe not…