I wrote this blog more than a year ago and I am reposting in honor of Martin Luther King day. It is still one of my favorites. The riots in Ferguson and in other places make it clear we have more work to do. But, I have a dream….and we can work together to make it happen.
I was a toddler, maybe three-years old, happily ignorant of the turmoil around me in 1963. It was a tumultuous time here in the South—and across the nation.
It was a time when little black girls in pigtails and kerchiefs were not safe, not even in churches. It was a time when being black, ”colored,” upped your chances of being hung from a tree.
It was a shameful time, a time when blacks were made “veterans of creative suffering” at the hands of fellow humans. Yes, it was a shameful time, and not just in the South. Racial discrimination and hatred had/has no real boundaries.
It was the time of the Civil Rights movement, and thankfully, I was ignorant of the drama being played out in small towns and industrial cities across our nation.
As I said, I was three on August 28, 1963, when the…
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