The National Museum of African American History and Culture (Smithsonian) opened in the fall of 2016. The first time I went, I found out that there were A TON of events relating to the history of civil rights that I had previously known nothing about. The most egregious was that I, a college-educated adult, had NEVER HEARD of Emmett Till before 2016. I had probably read his name at some point in like, a U.S. history class?? If so, I have zero memory of it. At any rate Emmett Till's casket is in this museum, and finally learning his story is probably the most striking and memorable learning experience that I've had at a museum.
Since then, I have been several times, with and without my kids, and have had a variety of experiences. The first time I brought Theo and Ida, an older African American gentleman noticed them looking at an exhibit that contained a drinking fountain with a "Coloreds Only" sign on it. He came up next to us, introduced himself, and asked what the kids thought about the fountain. He said, "I grew up in North Carolina in the 1950s. I drank out of those water fountains." He told us how the movie theaters, the beaches, the pools, the libraries, the schools, everything was segregated then. He said his mother refused to go to a segregated beach, so he rarely was able to go to the beach. I can't remember this man's name, but I so appreciated his generosity and neighborliness in approaching us and being willing to share his story with my kids.
Another striking and memorable learning experience that I have had in this museum was seeing the mug shots of Joan Trumpauer Mulholland.
A (semi-young) white woman myself, I looked at the face of this young white woman and for the first time really imagined what kind of impact someone like me could have. I had certainly never heard of her before, and her name is definitely not as important to know as Emmett Till's in the history of civil rights, but I appreciated seeing Joan's face. Just a young white woman from Northern Virginia, a student at Duke and a Christian, who joined this movement that she believed in, rode with the Freedom Riders and was arrested. I saw myself in this face. Sure, I was a good decade older, but I was just as free as she was to join a movement where most white people didn't see a place for themselves.
What would I have done in 1961? Well, I don't really need to answer that question. The question is, what will I do now? Dr. King's Letter from a Birmingham Jail is a classic guidepost for the white moderate.
Something to keep in mind is that participating in the continuing civil rights movement (or the revolution, or whatever the name is??? I don't know bc I'm not an expert) is going to involve:
(a) feeling uncertain
(b) feeling uncomfortable
(c) worrying about saying or doing the wrong thing
(d) saying or doing the wrong thing (when you were TRYING SO HARD!)
(e) accepting and examining criticism
(f) trying to change / learn / unlearn
(g) starting again from (a).
A million times. Til death do us part.
I distinctly recall reading and learning about the Civil Rights movement - and thinking it had "worked!" And realizing 20 years later that it had not. I taught my middle school students, many POC - and was discouraged that they knew so little about it. I tried to fill in the gaps - hope it helped - and now need to fill in my own gaps!
ReplyDeleteCan you hear the people sing? Singing the song of angry MEN/WOMEN/EVERYONE!
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