Social Stratification in the Deep South

The town of Clarkesdale was pretty depressing to walk around because everything was run-down and most of the stores were closed.  There were very few people walking around as most were just driving through.  Jill, Margaret, Teresa, and I decided to brave the heat and try to walk to the Riverside Hotel.  We ended up turning the wrong way and walking deeper into Clarkesdale when an older white lady pulled over and asked us if we needed a ride.  We took that as a hint to turn around and go back to the main street but noted the demographics of the area if only four white girls stuck out so much for a woman to pull her car over and offer strangers a ride.

Ground Zero, Morgan Freeman’s restaurant was a cool place but felt really touristy.  The only people in there were our group and a man named Puddin’, who quickly befriended and played pool with the boys.  I’m sure there was a large crowd that evening with people listening to the band we heard at Po’ Monkeys.  Running into the band member we had just seen a few nights before in Merrigold just shows how small town and few people live in the Delta.  My favorite place in Clarkesdale was Cat’s Head because the artwork was so fun, I especially liked the piece Susan bought and Margaret bought enough t-shirts to support the entire community that day.

Staying at Shack Up Inn was my favorite night of the trip.  I just ran around when we first got there and it felt like we were at summer camp.  DJ and I had hand stand contests in the grass and we checked out everyone’s shack.  After getting settled in a little in the Hopson Plantation, Jill and I went the main desk to ask if there was a gas station in walking distance since Ronnie left us stranded for the night.  I was shocked when the owner just handed me a set of keys and said the gas station was 2 miles to left.  We had to wait for him to put power steering fluid in before we could leave!  The car was a really old Cadillac that was as big as a boat.  I was the first to drive and got nervous pulling out because the car was so big it swayed back and forth on the road.  Barely driving the speed limit we finally got to the gas station and then Jill drove home and we surprisingly did not hit anything.  Driving the old Cadillac was definitely a highlight of the evening.  We spent the majority of the night playing games accompanied by Lilly and Tonia on our porch since ours was screened in.  The next morning everyone was complaining and ready to leave but I liked it there and would have no problem spending more than one night at Shack Up (minus the poison oak I got that showed up when I got home and thought was chiggers)  As much fun as I had there I do realize that we were very lucky to have electricity and air conditioning and that I cannot compare it to summer camp because of the history of the shacks.

I was not at all excited to go home and have the trip end.  Although living out of a suitcase for two weeks was not ideal, I am in denial that it’s over.  I have tried to tell my friends and family about the trip but there is no way to fully explain everything we went through, saw, and accomplished.  Our group was perfect and I was apprehensive before leaving because I did not know many people going but now I am just as close with most people on the trip than I am with my friends at Wake I’ve had for three years.  I cannot put into words the impact of our class but I have already decorated my room with the posters we got and cannot wait to go home and show my family all the pictures.  My first night back was the worst and I miss my roommates!!!

Touring through the different sections of Cleveland, Mississippi was seeing houses and living conditions like night and day. The night we got to the hotel a few of us were watching TV in the lobby with the girl who worked behind the desk. She told us about her town Shaw which we actually got to drive through and see the high school she went to. The school history was interesting because it went from being completely white to Italian to African American. It was the first school in Mississippi to have integrated teachers and as Luther Brown pointed out the first teacher received more problems from other teachers and administration than parents because the parents were mostly Italian and directly understood the effects of segregation.

Lunch at the Hoover grocery store was really good except the Kool-Aid pickles that most of us regretted trying. Mr. Hoover then showed us the neighborhood which is where Robert Johnson used to live and play jazz out on the street corner. We went into a house and Mr. Hoover explained how life was like during the time of the explosion of blues. There was one bed, one mirror, no running water, and no electricity for a large family. They used kerosene lamps, bathed in the back yard, and the children slept on blankets on the floor. Being in the cramped house on such a hot day made us realize how blues was inspired. Mr. Hoover told us how Robert Johnson would draw the whole neighborhood outside when he played but parents discouraged their children from listening. He said that if he even started to sing blues his mother would immediately hit him to stop since it was “devil’s music.”

We continued our tour to Money, Mississippi and passed the railroad tracks where Emmit Till rode the train and the store where whistled at the white employee to trigger his murder. The contrast of the run down homes (which a bunch actually had Direct TV dishes but no windows or fully enacted roofs) to the neighborhood approaching the Alluvian hotel was very drastic. It was such a short drive from houses that looked more like shacks to houses that would fit in on Stratford. The shops surrounding the hotel were very upscale and the hotel was ridiculously luxurious. It was hard to see such poverty and then wealth.

Dinner at the Senators Place was incredibly good. I was so full from lunch at Hoover’s that I did not think I could possibly eat another bite but ended up stuffing my face with catfish, hush puppies, green beans, cole slaw, and of course banana pudding. Dr. Rosen’s passion for blues was so apparent which made his lecture during dinner really interesting because he was so excited about it. Senator Willie Simmons was very generous for keeping the restaurant open later and cooking for us and showed us even more hospitality later that night at Po’ Monkeys.

Po’ Monkey’s juke joint was clearly the highlight of the trip! Having gotten so close on the trip everyone had a great time with each other dancing, playing pool, and hanging out. The blues and that played was great and it was fun to be out with locals and not feel out of place as we often did walking around in such a large group. Not much to blog about the evening but for sure memories from Po’ Monkeys will last forever.

After two eventful nights in New Orleans, we got up very early to attend Sunday service at Greater St. Stephen Full Gospel Baptist Church. The church is located in a pretty rundown neighborhood and the make-up of the church members was very different than the 16^th Street Baptist Church we went to last Sunday. The people ranged drastically and this was shown by their attire. There were some women dressed in fancy dresses with hats and then others wearing jeans and tank-tops. I even saw a woman with a gold grill in her mouth! The service was exactly what I expected when I learned we were going to a “mega church.” The dancers at the front and the video advertising daily voicemails that you can sign up to receive from the pastor fit into my stereotyped perception of what a church like that would be like. I also completely agree with how Dr. Hattery described the woman standing closest to us while waiting for people to go to the front to be saved because I was staring at her the entire time. She was almost staring people down to get them to stand up and I couldn’t decide if it was nice that the other people holding their arms out were welcoming or also being overly persuasive. The sermon was engaging as she opened with Michael Jordan and Tiger Woods metaphors that allowed all of the members to relate. She was also really funny, open, and honest with what she was saying and you could tell that she was truly genuine in her beliefs.

During our incredibly long bus ride to Cleveland, Mississippi, we had several reports and the topic that we spent the most time on was the treatment of prisoners and we also watched the HBO documentary The Trials of Darryl Hunt. We discussed at length the idea of prisoners getting paid for the labor they are forced to do and after hearing the statistics and injustices that happen within the system, everyone who spoke was in favor. There were valid arguments and it is a hard topic to decide one way or the other but I feel for the families of victims they could never be able to accept the guilty person being paid. Although the instances like Darryl Hunt are heartbreaking and knowing that now he is out of jail and still will not be able to find employment even though his innocence was proven, I still think that the majority of prisoners are in jail for a reason and paying prisoners will not fix the corruptions that are prevalent in the system or ease the pain for those affected by the crime.

New Orleans! Arriving in New Orleans was really exciting as most of us have never been before. We had the afternoon to walk around and explore and then went to dinner in the French Quarter and spent the evening on Bourbon Street. Everyone has been looking forward to our weekend here and an anonymous staff member even got a tattoo within ours of our arrival! But has yet to tell his mother…

Going to the ACORN organization and talking with Beth was very insightful because we got a different perspective of the effects of Katrina. While we learned about the damage from the storm actually hitting in Bay St. Louis and all of the problems from wind and flooding, in New Orleans we heard about the damage in Ward 9 from levies breaking after the storm.

After hearing about the hardships and huge obstacles preventing rebuilding and renovation, we went on a bus tour to see Ward 9. Desolate is the perfect word to describe it. To ride through and see so much empty space that used to be homes and X’s spray painted on homes that indicate how many bodies of people or animals were found is shocking to see in person as opposed to on the news. Walking around what used to be a neighborhood and taking pictures, we were all shaken by what we read spray painted on the side of a house most of us had just stopped to take a picture of. It said “1600 people died so you could take this picture.” I felt really guilty and although we were all observing New Orleans compassionately, we did not come to volunteer or do any service. Learning about these dire situations and how much needs to be done but not actually doing any of it is tough. The past few days have been especially emotional because where as the first part of the trip we were dealing with racial issues and inequalities that our group reacted to differently based on our composition, but hearing about people losing everything they own and the face even further problems without hope of ever returning to a normal lifestyle is a situation where our entire group is in the privileged position.

Our service learning projects at the library turned out really well. The first day we met the women we would be working with for the next two days and got a tour of the library and the area. The image that stands out the most from driving around and seeing the devastation that is still prominent were several lots of land that only had front stairs remaining on them. The waterfront area had several houses that you could see right through and many people only had trees on their front lawn left. Some people placed chairs and a house sign around trees on the lawn as a marking that someone did live there and that lawn used to be a home. Another image that stuck was a church that the whole front was missing and on the back wall there was an arrow and times for Sunday services spray painted. We also passed what used to be a bank and the only recognizable trace was the vault. Seeing a video of pictures of neighborhoods before Katrina and then going on a bus tour to see how little is left or rebuilt two years later was exactly what we needed to experience before conducting our oral histories the following day.

Although apprehensive at first, the oral histories were my favorite part of the three days we spent at the library. Being able to talk with three different people who lived through the storm in various conditions and the challenges they still face today was a lucky experience on both sides because we were able to hear first hand accounts and the were able to tell their story and let their side be known when a common feeling was that their area was somewhat neglected in terms of media coverage. The interviews were a lot of fun and everyone wanted to share with each other the stories we heard because each group got to talk with people with incredible stories that impacted all of us. It was surprising how well the interviews went because our group was anticipating them to be short with lots of awkward pauses but listening to what we were hearing it was hard not to ask a million questions and have them elaborate on their feelings before the storm, the actual events the day of, and how they have dealt with moving past the devastation.

It was great to spend a significant amount of time at the library to learn about the people who work there lives and see everything they have done as a community to survive. We got to see first hand how important the library is by observing the people who come in and out throughout the day and how many people came for the movie screening on Thursday evening. The library has played an integral part of recovery for the town and we were fortunate to volunteer and help them out.

The fountain memorial outside the Southern Poverty Law Center in downtown Montgomery was really interesting. We were all kind of just drawn to it and to play with the water and once we got to it were able to read the important dates including all of the demonstrations we have learned about on the trip so far. Reading all the plaques on the wall inside the center commemorating 40 various people who died during the struggle emphasized how many people were innocently killed who were not even protesting. There were stories of high school kids getting shot on their way home from school or to basketball practice and even a young man shot and killed who was only dancing at a club The wall includes white and black people that were murdered and in the next room of the center there is an interactive wall of peace for people to sign and pledge tolerance. It was exciting to see all of our names being added and scrolled down the wall along with others such as Morris Dees. We were also shown the locations of several hate groups that exist today in each state of the US such as neo Nazis and neo confederates. After hearing about court cases and law suites to finally dissemble the United Klansmen of America and then seeing how many other groups that continue to exist reiterates the goal of this course-to learn the history and the progression but also be mindful of what still needs to be done in this country to ensure equality.

Stopping in Selma to walk the Edmund Pettis Bridge was fun because we got to walk in a group exactly where the march had taken place just in the opposite direction. The bridge is rounded so much that when you are walking you cannot see the other end until you get to the middle which is when the marchers caught sight of the massive amounts of police officers blocking the exit. As a couple people in our group were scared to walk the bridge from fear of heights we can only imagine what it must have been like to be walking in the heat and so motivated to march for voting rights only to be suddenly stopped without a safe getaway. After our short bridge stop in Selma we got some food and headed to Bay St. Louis on a long bus ride that was entirely dedicated to class time, Spike Lee’s movie about the 16^th Street Baptist church bombing, and a CNN coverage on the affects of Katrina in our destination town but no nap time!

Driving on Highway 80 while listening to reports and watching footage from the march from Selma to Montgomery was just the start to a very eventful day.  As we discussed the fights for voting rights that took place in Alabama, Dr. Smith really put things into perspective for us by sharing what he was doing on March 7, 1965.  It is easy to see pictures and displace events to make them seem longer ago but as Dr. Smith showed us-they really weren’t.  Dr. Smith had graduated high school and was in the war amongst black soldiers who did not have the ability to vote.  People are easily shipped off and expected to fight for their country when they cannot even partake fully in the democracy.  Also the man we happened to meet in the museum at the Lowndes Interpretive Center really made me realize how recent these events occurred and how much apart of their lives they continue to be.  He was so enthusiastic to talk with us and point himself out in the photograph of the first attempt of the march that was halted so brutally by a line of policemen who beat and tear-gased the marchers.  That very same photograph is also in the Smithsonian.  The video we watched in the museum was very touching especially the woman who was talking about the violence that persisted into the night after it erupted on the bridge.  She recounts running from the police while a girl was hurt on the sidewalk and not being able to check on her out of terror from the police.  The drastic violence and degree of chaos caused by the police was in response to many people peacefully walking and trying to cross the Edmund Pettis Bridge.  Although fueled with anger about voting rights, the protesters were just walking and not doing anything to provoke the events that cause the day to be remembered as Bloody Sunday.

The section of the museum we explored after the film is what affected me the most.  The statue of a police officer with a gas mask on holding a nightstick was mortifying and I cannot even imagine approaching the bridge to see the “sea of blue” cops armed and ready for them.  The most haunting part of the museum for me was what I read in the section dedicated to Tent City.  A 17 year old girl went into labor with complications and eventually bled to death because she would have no hope being admitted to an all white hospital and the alternative was too far away.  To read about such a young girl bleeding to death and trying to sympathize with her pain and fear is unreal.  As I pointed the story out to Dr. Hattery she asked me to think about my own life and what I was doing at 17.  The only things I worried about then were the SATs and getting into college.  My biggest anxieties and stresses were over a test that which the scores are already meaningless.  Our Reflection reading with the Peggy McIntosh’s “White Privilege” tied in nicely with the day to emphasize the injustice of several factors that I do not have to think about on a day to day basis but shape other people’s lives.

Walking around outside after the museum was a perfect way to actually process what I had just seen and relate it to other issues.  Margaret and I discussed several of the problems we have been learning about the past few days and how it is affecting our group and how they affect our lives.  To think about 4,000 people marching for 53 miles for a right I was just born with is astounding.  I complain when I have to drive 53 miles let alone walk.

Attending the church service at 16^th Street Baptist church was polar opposite from the Greek Orthodox service I am used to.  When we walked in and sat there were three women with microphones at the front of the church but women are not allowed in the altar at my church so it was surprising to see only women to start the service.  The women had great voices and the songs and people playing instruments made it difficult to stand and not clap and get into it.  I was also surprised by how many couples and families had never been to the church because they were some of the most energetic and into the service ones in the congregation.  Another difference about people in the church besides the obvious of race, was the children’s role in the service.  During services in my church the boys from the 14 years old Sunday School class are altar boys and participate in the entire service while older church members pass around collection baskets but at the 16^th street church the kids pass around the collection which is interesting because I’m sure people would feel more inclined and obligated to give money to a child.

The preacher was a large part of our discussion after the service because he was just so animated and exactly what one would expect from a Baptist church in the deep south.  He shouted most of what he was saying all the while wiping his sweat with a towel.  For the most part his sermon was uplifting and encouraging people not to give up even in the rough times that are bound to come.  He spoke to an older crowd with several marriage references and was actually really funny with his boxing examples and bobbing and weaving at the podium.  However, what stuck out to our entire group was an intolerant comment the preacher added pretty unnecessarily to his sermon about gay relationships being a sin.  The comment was unwarranted and left me with a somewhat negative view of the church.  I would be a hypocrite if I did not admit that I disagree with some beliefs my priest has, but in reflection some people said that the comment would probably deter them from returning to the church.  Just avoiding that particular church is not helpful because his views are not acceptable and one would hope for someone that directly knows prejudice and intolerance they wouldn’t turn around and judge others in a similar manner.

Watching the Spike Lee movie after going to the church was good because we got a good idea of the events and histories of the girls from Teresa before going and then in the movie we could see the places we went and hear more in depth about the happenings of the day of the bombing.   Hearing the girls’ family members, neighbors, and friends talking about each girl’s personality and childhood was extremely touching.  Carole was supposed to play in her first clarinet concert the day after the bombings and Cynthia reached out and made friends with people that other students rejected and picked on.  I got goose bumps when Cynthia’s sister retells the last thing her mother had said to her before she was killed.  Cynthia left the house with her slip sticking out from her skirt and her mother stopped her to tell her to pull her skirt down because “you just don’t put your clothes on any way when you are going to church because you don’t know how you’re going to come back.”  To think these were the last words a mother spoke to her daughter is gut wrenching.  Denise’s grandfather describing having to tell her that she could not get a sandwhich at the mall because the food was white only was just as difficult as seeing her dead shows how young and innocent these girls were.  They were 14 and 11 years old and the little life experience they had was completely unjust.  It was hard to sit in the church service thinking about these issues and not be a little distracted from the service.  I wonder if members of the church think about it each Sunday.

Today this trip became real. Standing in the same spot were kids were so brutally treated was chilling. As we walked along the Freedom Path in Kelly Ingram Park it was really hard to think about what happened to kids younger than us. The statue with the dog was the most powerful as you are shown the ferocity at which these kids were approached. Even the statue was scary which only made us talk about how frightening it would have been to be there. Going to the park today was a good coincidence as there was a rally for Birmingham’s youth and against violence. Although it can be seen as a positive that this was happening in this park, it was sadly more of a showing about how affected Birmingham still is from the civil rights struggle. There were tables of representatives for summer programs for the town’s youth but there were only about fifteen kids there total in the hour we spent. One table was a youth group trying to raise money to send their kids on a trip to Ghana and there could not have been more than twenty five dollars in the bucket and most of it was change. The intentions of yesterday were great as there were enthusiastic speakers and people handing out tons of information about activities at churches, concerts, and brochures about health and safety. It was sad to see that there was no turn-out and the people that were there, only a small handful were white. One of the speakers talked about lyrics from a rap song that indicates we should be followers and he emphasized the importance of being a leader but if no one is there to hear his words, his message was just lost. The people who each of us walked around with was an interesting split as we broke up into smaller groups that happened to be of similar race. We were able to share with each other our thoughts about the history and the events today in the park and then in reflection time we heard what everyone else was feeling and discussing. When we walked the freedom walk we did so with guilt and a true sense of sorrow for all the children hurt and scarred whereas others walked through and felt angry and a stronger sense of hurt. It was very good that we could experience the park in our own ways but then come together and share the different perspectives of what we felt hopefully making us more open to start experiencing these sites in a better mix of groups.

The Shore sisters and Peggy Heidi were absolutely fabulous. To hear about their childhood experiences and tragedies was extremely powerful, especially hearing Helen and Barbara’s first hand accounts and also Peggy’s experience as she was very in tuned as to what was going on even as a child. Listening to Helen and Barbara speak about their house being bombed twice and there reactions to the threatening lifestyle they were forced to grow up with was heartbreaking but also showed how impressively strong each of them are. They are so smart, personable, and funny it really really was special to get a chance to hear about their lives. I cannot imagine what it would be like to be targeted as a child and just having constant fear. Peggy mentioned several times how the fear was not just race specific and the whole city was plagued by it. Going on the bus tour definitely made what we had just heard about become more real to us. To see the street and think about how many hateful and violent acts occurred where were driving was sickening, especially next to the school where there were often cross burnings. Peggy’s honesty about her family and her childhood was very helpful in putting things into perspective. As she told us how her mother would not let her sister play with Angela Davis and all of the intertwining history of the neighborhood, you could tell how much being on the other side of racism affected her and it is great to hear about how enthusiastic and adamant she is to make a change.

Cameron sharing with us during reflections was another eye opener. To hear that he had never been to school with or even had any contact with a black person with the exception of one girl until college was astounding. To hear that Wake Forest was diverse for him was also shocking. When he described how white and diversity lacking he was until college I could not help but judge him a little bit even though those circumstances were not his fault. But his excitement and desire to meet new people in college and going to speakers and enjoying diversity is a real statement about his character. I would assume that for most people coming from a completely sheltered world, it would be hard and uncomfortable to change those habits. As a few of us talked with Marcus after reflections we talked about how today would have been different if there were any white males on our trip. The assumption we can make is that there are none on our trip because these issues are just a part of history for most of them as they have not experienced anything to hold them back from doing anything. To see all the work that Cameron has done and to hear him talk so happily about the mixing of his church youth group with an integrated church youth group proves that although conditions in Birmingham are still bad, people such as Cameron and Peggy are really passionate to change it.

The intensity of today hit us all at different times but definitely was a reminder about why we are here. Despite the tough things we heard and places we saw, the day has been very fun. Playing with a few children on the playground and the ribs at dinner were for sure highlights.

It is difficult to get very in depth for the first day as we spent most of the time traveling. I was surprised about how much stuff we got done on the bus and the most I feel that the most interesting discussion we had was when everyone shared their own perceptions of the south. Coming from various parts of the country we still could come up with a relatively standard definition and characteristics of the south which indicates how strong the stereotypes are. The south is the easiest part of the country to talk about because most of the history we learn in elementary school and the history with the most impact comes from the south. Living on the east coast, I generally only think about the division between north and south and when Arizona and Minnesota were brought up I realized how little I know about other areas of the country.

The most ironic part of the day happened during our reflection time after dinner when we were talking about our expectations and anxieties for the trip. As we were going around sharing, a man got out of his car and approached us to ask for gas money. None of us really knew what to do and Marcus handled it really quickly and impressively but it just proved that most of our anxieties about being looked at as a group in a certain way were indeed true and had already happened on day one. The size and demographics of our group are going to be noticeable everywhere we go and we clearly stand out which can potentially pose as a problem or an ice-breaker as we started talking to the guy at Irondale because he asked us where we were from.