First Parish Unitarian UniversalistSocial Action Sunday
First Parish Unitarian Universalist - Canton
January 14, 2001
The Legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.: Personal Reflections by Sondra
I feel privileged to speak to the congregation as we honor the birthday of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. one of our nation’s great heroes. When Dennis asked me, I did not realize I would be speaking along with Bernie and Jay, two well-known experts on the topic. I am by no means an expert on the life and writings of Dr. King; however, his vision and wisdom have had a profound impact on our family these past 18 months. As a matter of introduction, I am Sondra. My husband is Alan and I have 3 adopted daughters; Isatu and Nanah from Sierra Leone, West Africa and Madison from PRC.
I grew up in a delusional “white” world believing that all people were created equal, and that justice always prevailed. I am embarrassed to admit that I thought most prejudice ended with the Civil Rights movement.
I thought the hardest part about adopting 2 children from Africa would be dealing with their traumatic beginnings in life, and issues surrounding the adoption of older children. How wrong I was. In 18 short months I have been catapulted into another world -- a world of intense racism, and judgment from both the white and black communities. In he past, if someone had asked me to define prejudice, I would have answered, “Prejudice is a preconceived opinion, bias, or partiality”. Today I tell you:, “Prejudice is a monster that seeps into your life that must be confronted and battled daily”. Prejudice feels like a knife in your chest, and slowly it embitters you and eventually you do not like what you have become. My recent experiences have changed my life and how I view the world, forever.
I now truly understand the passion of Dr. King and what he was fighting against. His words have taken on a whole new meaning for me, and I have found myself reflecting on them often.
Everyone is familiar with these words from Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech delivered in 1963.
“I say to you today my friends, that in spite of the difficulties and frustrations of the moment, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream. I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed. We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal.”
Through my recent family experiences, I have been jerked into the reality that, sadly, not this nation, nor even our local community, has realized Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s dream.
The injustices our family suffers are not as concrete as issues like voting rights, or the rights to gain entry to establishments that Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. fought for so passionately. We face less tangible, more insidious injustices, that are equally if not more debilitating and hurtful. These insidious acts of racism occur almost wherever we go - even right here in Canton. We have noticed that certain ”friends” never find any time for us anymore; some playgroups that we previously attended no longer invite us, and there are even friends and families who have disappeared from our lives. I spent hours wondering why our children were the only kids not invited to a local children’s Christmas party- trying to wrack my brain for something I might have done to offend the hosts. I can’t count how many nights I have lain awake contemplating these issues, or how many tears I have shed in the process.
It was an unexpected jolt when recently the mother of a child in Madison’s dance class nervously approached me to explain that her Chinese daughter was “scared” to stand next to my African daughter, because of her color. What a sad commentary on our humanity that one 5 year old child is frightened by another child solely due to her color. (I must include that I am grateful to the honesty of the mother who asked for assistance - many mothers simply avoid us, or pretend there is no issue.) Perhaps even worse, are the people who are condescending to my children, or who subconsciously make thoughtless remarks on the basis of their color.
Close relatives, exploded into anger one night, telling us they were offended by the “Black” culture we have brought into our house (specifically referring to art, food, and music). We were told that if we weren’t careful, our girls would be running around with the “hoodlums” downtown, implying that bringing African culture into our house was sending our kids into a life of crime. And we didn’t miss the subconscious assumption that “hoodlums” equated to blacks. This statement spoke volumes to us, and was only one event in a series of breakdowns in our greater family relationships.
Currently, we are facing the important issue of guardianship for our kids. There is no one in our family or former circle of friends whom we feel comfortable asking to be legal guardians of our African daughters in the event something were to happen to us.! Can any of you imagine that!
I can’t possibly communicate in words the intense pain the racism we experience has and continues to cause for us.
These are the personal encounters. But on a grander scale, how do I answer my daughters when they ask “Why are there no Black people in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade?” and there were very few, indeed -- they counted).
Equally hurtful is the cool reception from many members of the Black community, who openly do not approve of trans-racial adoption - few even give us the benefit of getting to know us. We believe it is important for our children to know the African-American culture, but attitudes like these have made it difficult to integrate into the African American community.
Listening to my own words as I speak to you, I feel like I am talking about Alabama in the 60s, not middle class Boston in the year 2001. I would not have believed any of this, had it even occurred to me, prior to experiencing it firsthand. And how can I possibly explain these injustices to my children? I can tell you that in 18 months, I have not figured out a way. Even so, as much as I would like to, I know I cannot hide the harsh realities of racism from them.
And how can I change the level of understanding of the white community? Even I, a well-educated, liberal, socially conscious -- but white - individual did not comprehend the enormity of the racial prejudice that still exists within our civilized society, until I experienced it through the adoption of my Black children. .
I mentioned earlier that entwined with the meaning of prejudice for me is a slowly growing bitterness toward society that I fight against within myself.
Again, I take solace and guidance in the words of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
“Let us not satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.”
This has been increasingly harder to do, and I have to remind myself often. I need to set an example for my children and rise above the smallness of our world and community. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. is an example of virtue and righteousness, and his words give me strength to fight for what is fair and just while mostly keeping my dignity in the face, of what sometimes seem like insurmountable obstacles. I am not always successful, and my husband can attest to the fact that I occasionally lose my cool.
I too have a dream for our children. I dream that we can level the playing field for my daughters as they grow up in our neighborhood, our community, and our society, and that we can give them a fair chance at life. I dream they will be accepted by the White and Black societies equally.
I hope my husband and I will successfully teach them to judge people on character, not skin color, religious beliefs, political views, or sexual orientation, despite the injustices they themselves suffer.
Mostly I hope that we will be successful parents to our children in this imperfect world.
I reflect on Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.. He is an example to all of mankind. Many of us just need to look closer and listen to his message. Perhaps one day we can all realize his dream.
The Legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.: Personal Reflections by Bernard
Over three decades ago, the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. urged people of all races to live and work together in what he called "beloved community."
This seems like a good time to breathe new life into that vision of a world, where differences are respected, and people of all backgrounds join together, to create a just and inclusive society.
How do we build that "beloved community"? How can we all be inspired by Dr. King's message, which was, that "We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny?"
For the past five years, I had the privilege of acting as a facilitator in the Leadership Seminars for principals of the Boston Public Schools. The most rewarding time of all these workshops were the days we wrestled with the sensitive subject of How Race and Ethnicity Affect Schools, and race in American society. All of us, I think, including myself, learned and grew from this. We were inspired by Dr. King's message.
People often have trouble talking about race and ethnicity. Sensitivities are often raw. But as seekers and learners and teachers, we have a need to listen to each other, and to hear. With a special kind of listening, eyes and ears and minds and hearts open.
One of the songs we sang together during the civil rights movement, with Dr. King, was Black and White Together, We Shall Overcome. We asked ourselves whether this was outmoded or still relevant today.
One of the issues we struggled with was self-segregation. We tackled this in discussing an extraordinary book by an African-American scholar, Dr. Beverly Daniel Tatum. It was called "Why Are All the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria?" We learned to see this question differently, after analyzing Dr. Tatum's words. She suggests that we might ask, conversely, Why are all the White Kids sitting together in the cafeteria?
We need to understand the development of racial identity, particularly among children and adolescents. We need to understand students' quest for support and self-protection from the environmental stresses of racism. We need to confront white privilege, unearned advantage, conferred dominance, and the power structure. And we need constantly, vigilantly, to speak up against racism, to take personal responsibility in fighting bigotry.
We each have work to do. A recent study printed in the New York Times covered12 large public school districts in the US, including Boston. It reconfirms the existence of racial bias, a systemic issue along race lines, in which black students are far more likely to be expelled, and far less likely to be in gifted or advanced placement classes. Another study by the College Board was in the Boston Globe. It says that racism , low expectations from teachers, and black and Hispanic students' own fears of appearing "too white," have produced a gap in achievement, that keeps them from succeeding at the same level as their white peers.
It's evident that we need to combat ignorant and hurtful ethnic messages from our TVs, movies, parents, siblings and peers. Do we teach our youngsters to be open-minded, understanding, fair and intelligent about race, and help them to avoid and combat bigotry, prejudice and ignorance? Do we see to it that our curricula are multicultural? Do we use ethnicity to enrich our common experiences, and not to divide people?
Our best teachers proceed on the theory that "All students are teachable, reachable and capable of achieving success," if we stress tough love, promote self-esteem and have high levels of expectation. It's said that kids are not the problem, adults are. Maybe we should educate more parents, before we educate the kids. All this is part of Dr. King's message.
Let me share with you a personal family remembrance. Back in the wartime hot summer of 1942--Dr. King was only 13 then, and not yet known to us-- Washington, DC was a shamefully segregated city. It wasn't easy for those who fought for civil rights. My brother-in-law, Joan's brother Don, was a community activist. He and some African-American friends decided it was long overdue time to make it possible for black youngsters to swim in the public swimming pool, to de-segregate that public facility. So they organized a march through the streets of Washington to do it.
The chief of police, with a posse of officers carrying sidearms and clubs, headed off the demonstrators and said grimly to the leaders, "I don't want any trouble from you people...." Well, Don just linked his arm with the chief, and smiled to him, "Chief, there isn't going to be any trouble. Because you're coming with us, and leading our parade." The chief gulped, but he did, and they marched together, and that swimming pool was desegregated, and that was the beginning of the end of Washington as an officially segregated city. That was the power of non-violence. The method of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
Twenty two years later, Dr. King wrote these words, in the language of that day, "Non-violent action, the Negro saw, was the way to supplement, not replace, the process of change. It was the way to divest himself of passivity without arraying himself in vindictive force. The Negro was willing to risk martyrdom in order to move and stir the social conscience of his community and the nation. He would force his oppressor to commit his brutality openly, with the rest of the world looking on...Non-violent resistance paralyzed and confused the power structures against which it was directed."
Joan and I first saw and heard Dr. King in London in 1964. He was on his way to Oslo to accept the Nobel Peace Prize, and in St. Paul’s Cathedral, he repeated the ringing cadences of his "I Have a Dream" speech of the Civil Rights march on Washington.
In Oslo, he said, "Non-violence is the answer to the crucial political and moral questions of our time... We must evolve for all human conflict a method that rejects revenge, aggression and retaliation. The foundation of such a method is love."
How relevant this is for our day!
If we can sing and believe--"Black and White Together, We Shall Overcome….." We Shall Overcome, Some Day.