Today we traveled through Selma, Alabama and half-way to Montgomery to an interpretive center. The center highlighted certain aspects of the march from Selma to Montgomery. I was under the impression that we were going to have a picnic since it was Memorial Day weekend and nothing was really open. This was not a bad idea to me because I thought of it as a “break” from the emotion that I had felt the previous days. Things did not quite go as I expected, because the interpretive center was full of information and the film we watched was by far the best that we had seen.

On a happier note I met some of the workers from the center, and learned from them that the childhood home of Ben Wallace, an NBA All-Star, was located 100 feet from where I was standing. This was very thrilling considering that he is one of my favorite NBA players. We then grilled hamburgers and hotdogs, ate watermelon, and carried on conversation with each other to end the perfect Memorial Day.

After arriving back to the hotel we walked as a class through historic downtown Montgomery. We saw the Slave trade market, and I learned an interesting fact about them. I was very unaware of how the market was organized or how slaves were chosen. My guess before reading more about this was that it was similar to the movie “Gladiator,” where the gladiators were caged and inspected by potential buyers. Those thought to be more helpful with labor were the more expensive slaves.

We walked to the state capital and I noticed that at the very front there was a large statue of Jefferson Davis, and a monument dedicated to the history of the Confederacy. There were other statues on the ground, but I had never heard of them and found it hard to understand why they had statues of them and not one of Dr. Martin Luther King, who was the pastor at a church one block down for six year.

Day 4, Memorial Day, it felt very awkward spending my memorial day with teachers and students on a bus in Alabama then spending it with my mom, dad, sister, brother and family members. But overall the day was beautiful, we learn more about the Selma to Montgomery march. The most interesting thing I learned about the march was that it was both black and whites were marching together to Montgomery. After watching it, it made me think again about our history, and a question came to mind after watching the documentary and it was ” Were all whites the same?”. The march to Montgomery was diverse and that really showed me that even though history shows blacks getting brutally beat by whites, it was not all whites that were doing the crimes. Oh yea and we saw the home of Ben Wallace, that was interesting also.

Again I’m posting this a few days late…I’ll catch up soon.
What to say about today? Well its Memorial Day so the majority of places we would have gone were closed, like the Rosa Parks Museum. We ended up having a great day though. We went to a place called the Interpretive Learning Center. It is located on Highway 80, which is where people marched from Selma, AL to Montgomery to fight for voter registration rights. There was an exhibit inside the building, as well as surrounding the building telling stories of the march. We also watched a video that gave different people’s perspectives of the march. When I say different perspectives I mean even white supremacists who felt that the black people injured or killed deserved it. It was really powerful to watch the video and see the different opinions and to learn more about the march. I think I take for granted the right to vote, because it is something I’ve been exposed to all my life and looking forward to for just as long.

I remember a time when I was younger, maybe 4 or 5 years old, I remember an adult in my life telling me that because we live in a free country she could say that she hates the president without getting in trouble. In addition she had the ability to vote for who she wanted and had some impact (even if it is minimal) on the outcome of an election. The right to vote, the ability to register to vote and the actual process of voting are something I never really considered. It became a second nature thought. My point in talking about that is that I never considered the idea of needing to fight for the right to register to vote. It was never an experience I had to deal with or encountered the thought of it on a very personal level. It was something we talked about in history class a couple times, but I wasn’t aware of the circumstances of it or the consequences. Going to the Interpretive Center forced me to recognize some of those things.

Later in the day, following reflections (which were interesting to say the least) we walked to the Dexter Ave Baptist Church where Martin Luther King Jr. had served as pastor for numerous years and to the capitol building. One of the monuments on the property of the capitol building was thoroughly disturbing to me. It was a monument commemorating the Confederate soldiers and the righteousness of the South. I think my favorite quote from the monument was this: “The knightliest of the knightly race who since the days of old, have kept the lamp of chivalry alight in hearts of gold.” Another good one came from around the corner on the monument. It read: “Fame’s temple boasts no higher name, no king is grander on his throne; no glory shines with brighter gleam, the name of ‘patriot’ stands alone.” Surrounded by the lovely monument were 4 versions of the Confederate flag, with plaques underneath them that alluded to the purity of the South in their fight for freedom. I can’t say that sat very well with me; especially with it sitting right next to the building for the capitol of Alabama.

As I mentioned previously reflections for the day were interesting. We discussed a piece entitled “White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack” by Peggy McIntosh. It’s basically a list of daily things that whites tend to have more privilege in, but may go unrecognized by them. There was a long period of time during the reflection time when I was unable to talk, because Marcus asked that only the African-American students speak. It was really frustrating because there were so many times when I had something to say. Not that I could necessarily relate to things they said, but because I wanted to stand up for myself. I felt like some people were making huge generalizations and it was upsetting. I know that happens all the time and to all people. I don’t really want to go into that though.

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…

Over the past few days, we have had limited access to internet in the hotel we stayed in so I am now covering our last day in Birmingham, as well as our time in Montgomery and Selma.

Before we left Birmingham on Sunday, we had the privilege of attending a church service at the 16^th Street Baptist Church where the four children were killed while attending a youth event by members of white supremacist organizations. I thoroughly enjoyed my time at this service, probably more so than others on the trip, partially because I had never been to a service like this, and also because it kind of spoke to me in a way that I’ve never really felt from a church service. The loudness, vivaciousness, and contemporary nature of the opening songs and others throughout was done in such a way that I literally felt the music, something I can’t say is true of any song at my Methodist church, or any other more traditional service I have been to. Though these are two very different styles, and neither one is more right or wrong, I can honestly say there was much more spirit, depth, and a much more powerful message in this service than I have ever derived from the more traditional services. I don’t know that the style is something I would necessarily feel comfortable in all the time, or that I could make this church my home, but it definitely was a rejuvenating and enlightening experience of faith. I was impressed with how much time everyone in this church put in to the service, and how they truly seemed to not only pay attention, but appeared to have connected with God in the service based on their responses and loud praise during song. At times, I was struck by the more fire and brimstone approach, trying to figure out whether I liked it better or not than what was used to. I feel there truly are positives and negatives to both my type of church and the 16^th Street Baptist Church, but neither one is more proper or correct in how they conduct themselves. I feel I developed a much bigger respect for this style of church and worship from my experience today, and was able to draw many parallels between the church I have been brought up in and this. I would be interested to go to this style church in another area to see how the messages and feelings differ. I feel that the more verbal style of worshipping of this African American church and longer length of their service than usual shows the central importance of religion in their lifestyle and culture. I am impressed with the amount of effort that seems to be put into each individual service at this particular church.

By the next morning we had checked in to our hotel in Montgomery. I went for a run around the abandoned downtown area where all the government buildings were. I marveled at the fountain in the town center, only to learn that it was the old slave trade market. I also ran up the steps of the capital building, and was stunned when I watched the movie on the bus, showing those same steps filled with the people who had made the march from Selma to Montgomery to protest African Americans being denied the right to vote. On a later trip to the capital building with the group, I was shown a monument I had failed to notice in my earlier trip: a monument to the confederacy and its leaders. I am appalled that this monument was allowed to have been constructed at all, much less next to the capital building, and containing all the flags of the confederacy and with very white supremacist quotes adorning the walls. This was a powerful message to me, showing that this is just one way in which racism continues to exist even today. More refreshing was the fountain monument to Martin Luther King Jr. in front of the Southern Poverty Law Center. It was such a place of peace with the slow flowing water, which seems to symbolize to me the nonviolence and slow progressing civil rights movement, but that the people kept fighting, despite obstacles, just like the water never ceased to move.

During the day, we went to the Selma to Montgomery National Historic Trail center, where we toured and had a cookout. It was nice to have a little time to explore and process all that we have been taking in over the past few days. The displays in the Center, as well as the very provocative memory they showed struck me very firmly. Each day of the trip has seemed to loosen me up a little bit, and hit into me a little harder as the information begins to accumulate and conceptualize itself. Though I first learned about the differences in ethnicities and the civil rights movement when I was young, I don’t think the depth of it has really come full circle to me until this trip. Each day serves as a stepping stone for me in my understanding and identifying with the discrimination that African Americans have faced ever since they came to America, and continue to face even today.

On Tuesday morning, after checking out of the hotel and loading the bus for Bay St. Louis, Mississippi, we walked to the Southern Poverty Law Center. This by far has been the most touching part of the trip so far for me. I can’t tell you exactly why, though the movie, discussion, and stories all depicted brutal stories and thoughts, but something about today just hit me. Seeing the faces of these poor victims, both African American and white, who died at the hands of organizations such as the KKK and the Night Riders, and the sheer number of people we know about, let alone the ones we don’t, just overtook me. Sitting in the movie and seeing the number of white power organizations still in power, combined with the horrific story of Michael Donald’s lynching, were enough to just kind of push me over the edge, though in a good way. Maybe another reason this day impacted me so much was because of my passion for justice, and continued interest in the law profession. Over the past few years, I have gone back and forth as to what career I want to pursue; after today, I think my choice to go to law school has been cemented. I could totally see myself doing the type of law that Morris Dees of the Southern Poverty Law Center does. I have struggled with how to combine my want to genuinely help people who are in the most dire need of help with my passion for justice and other skills in that area. I bought a book on how Dees came to be what he is today, and hope it will continue to lead me down a path towards what I want to be in the future. I’ve always heard that you can tell which lawyers are in their field because of passion, and which are there for money, and the ones who do it because they are truly driven to help, stand out among the crowd. This is what I would like to become.

The experience of walking across the same bridge that the people who marched from Selma to Montgomery did was one of great importance. This in particular really put us in the mindset of what it was like to walk right down into the police officers with their clubs and dogs, and how intense the walk they made must have been even beyond any concept we could ever have of it. Following, going to the George Washington Carver Projects was a little bit of a different experience for me. I couldn’t help feeling like we were being somewhat invasive into the homes of people, and felt like I wanted to hide my camera to avoid being rude. I began to feel somewhat uncomfortable and unwelcome in the neighborhood due to some of the looks and yells we got from some of the residents. It still was definitely important to see to give us an idea of where the march actually began, and how little the area seems to have changed since the march took place many years ago.

During our second day in Montgomery, our visit to the Selma to Montgomery Interpretive center was incredibly moving to me through the film that we watched as well as the way that our group met the gentleman whose picture was in the museum from where he participated in the march to Montgomery was another moment in our trip that really touched me emotionally through his testimony about what he personally risked his life to obtain.

While the museum was incredibly moving, I found myself incredibly distracted by Dr. Smith’s testimony about his experience in the Vietnam War, where he and his comrades were fighting for their country, but denied the right to vote. There is a Langston Hughes poem entitled “Will V-Day Be Me-Day Too?”, which kept running through my mind as I listened to what Dr. Smith had to say about this experience. I’m going to attach a copy of this when we get to where I can post it with my post.

The walking tour downtown to the original slave market from Montgomery’s early days as well as to the Dexter Street Baptist Church, which Dr. Martin Luther King was the pastor at and the Alabama state capital building was an amazing experience, which brought many controversial items, such as the Confederate memorial and the statue of
Jefferson Davis, to the attention of our group, as well as many interesting conversations, which I will allow my peers to bring up if they wish to because I do not feel comfortable discussing some of their discussions.

Will V-Day be Me Day too? written by Langston Hughes

Over There,
World War II.

Dear Fellow Americans,
I write this letter
Hoping times will be better
When this war
Is through.
I’m a Tan-skinned Yank
Driving a tank.
I ask, WILL V-DAY
BE ME-DAY, TOO?

I wear a U. S. uniform.
I’ve done the enemy much harm,
I’ve driven back
The Germans and the Japs,
From Burma to the Rhine.
On every battle line,
I’ve dropped defeat
Into the Fascists’ laps.

I am a Negro American
Out to defend my land
Army, Navy, Air Corps–
I am there.
I take munitions through,
I fight–or stevedore, too.
I face death the same as you do
Everywhere.

I’ve seen my buddy lying
Where he fell.
I’ve watched him dying
I promised him that I would try
To make our land a land
Where his son could be a man–
And there’d be no Jim Crow birds
Left in our sky.

So this is what I want to know:
When we see Victory’s glow,
Will you still let old Jim Crow
Hold me back?
When all those foreign folks who’ve waited–
Italians, Chinese, Danes–are liberated.
Will I still be ill-fated
Because I’m black?

Here in my own, my native land,
Will the Jim Crow laws still stand?
Will Dixie lynch me still
When I return?
Or will you comrades in arms
From the factories and the farms,
Have learned what this war
Was fought for us to learn?

When I take off my uniform,
Will I be safe from harm–
Or will you do me
As the Germans did the Jews?
When I’ve helped this world to save,
Shall I still be color’s slave?
Or will Victory change
Your antiquated views?

You can’t say I didn’t fight
To smash the Fascists’ might.
You can’t say I wasn’t with you
in each battle.
As a soldier, and a friend.
When this war comes to an end,
Will you herd me in a Jim Crow car
Like cattle?

Or will you stand up like a man
At home and take your stand
For Democracy?
That’s all I ask of you.
When we lay the guns away
To celebrate
Our Victory Day
WILL V-DAY BE ME-DAY, TOO?
That’s what I want to know.

Sincerely,
GI Joe.

This Memorial Day was spent honoring not only those who gave their lives defending their country, but also those who gave their lives earning the right to vote, a right that white men have enjoyed from the first days of the young democracy. I’ve always been disturbed by the reality that when they founders said “all men are created equal,” they meant all white land-owning men, and not women at all. It has also disturbed and surprised me that Memorial Day is taken fairly lightly in the South, more like Columbus Day than the national holiday it is. Shortly after I got to Winston, one of my staff took me aside and explained that Memorial Day was created to honor the Union dead and that was why not much was made of it. So, for instance, today is the first day of summer classes at Wake Forest, which would be unheard of in other parts of the country. And don’t even get me started on Labor Day, but, I digress….

When we finally got there after a few detours in the Alabama countryside, the Lowndes Interpretive Center turned out to be a lovely museum, though in a somewhat desolate setting. The film about the struggle for voting rights, culminating in the Selma to Montgomery march was the best piece I have ever seen. The message to young people and others who do not participate in voting was very strong: do not take this privilege lightly, as those who went before you died so you could have it.

While we were waiting for Ronnie to grill the burgers (thanks, Ronnie) I heard one of the guys say, “You know Ben Wallace? He’s from here. That’s his mother’s house behind there.” I know Ben Wallace to be the NBA star, formerly of my beloved Pistons but now with the Chicago Bulls. So I took this picture from a distance to show everyone back home.

After all the travel of the past few days, the holiday was a welcome change. We knew that most everything would be closed, so Dr. Hattery planned for us to visit a new facility on the Selma to Montgomery Trail, the Lowndes Interpretive Center, at the site of Tent City.

My day started out with a “touring” 5 mile run through downtown Montgomery. Because of the holiday, there was nobody in evidence. The area is mostly government buildings and so their employees had the day off. This made for a nice run, you could jog down the middle of the streets without worrying about traffic. I took my camera along and stopped to snap shots of landmarks (some are in our Flickr area).

We didn’t leave until 10:30 which made for a nice relaxing morning. The trip to the Center was classroom time with students delivering reports on Rosa Parks, the Montgomery Bus Boycott and the Selma to Montgomery March. The highlight of the ride, however, was our visit to a truck stop to put gas in the bus. Dr. Hattery turned it into a contest to see who could come closest to guessing the cost of the gas and how many gallons it would take to fill the bus. We also had a stop in Hayneville to get groceries for our Memorial Day picnic. Hayneville is the town where Jonathan Daniels, an Episcopal Seminary student, was killed in 1965 by a local storeowner after being released from jail for his part in the boycotts of segregated facilities. We were shown an excellent documentary on Daniels as we rode along.

At the Interpretive Center, we viewed another well produced film, this one on the Selma to Montgomery March. Afterward, we visited the museum that documents the March. Right as we started, a gentleman approach us to ask who we were. This has happened several times, and Drs. Hattery and Smith have told us how these encounters can turn out to be the most educational spots in a planned activity. The man who talked with us is Bob Mants, who was and SNCC member and one of the four leaders of the March. His picture was in prominence on a wall mural. He was 22 when the March took place. The picture above shows Mr. Mants pointing to his younger image. It turns out he lives in the area, was driving by the Center, saw our bus, so turned in to see what group was visiting!

The day was hot, but while there, we had a great picnic complete with hot dogs, hamburgers, lots of chips and watermelon.