As we come to the end of another day celebrating Dr King and his vision and legacy, I always think of my father. As I mentioned on these pages, my dad died on the 15th of January. What I don't often talk about was my father and his place in the Civil Rights movement. He was a contemporary of Dr. King in some ways. A Child of the South, born just before the Depression, someone who bore witness to Jim Crow overtly and subvertly, he elegantly, like so many others in this country, silently and quietly fought against discrimination at every turn. Dad didn't win a Nobel Prize for peace, but he showed that a peaceful way to your ends is always the right way to go. Dr. King used the bully pulpit as a leader (not the leader) of the Civil Rights movement. Dad decided to use the courts, like hundreds of others, to ensure equality for himself and his children. He's one of my biggest heroes.
My dad always taught me that, when it comes to race relations and dealing with the ignorance and small mindedness of people, it's better to be like a duck and let that hatred roll off of your back. With few exceptions, I've done just that. More importantly, it's my mission in life that I don't have to teach my children the same things I had to learn - it's my hope that my children are judged by their merits, that they, as bright and beautiful as they are, never have to come home and ask why someone called them nigger; that they can visit any of their friends and not have to worry about the car lights being broken or having to fight their way out of a neighborhood in this awesome amazing city; that the idea of DWB (driving while black) is an urban myth.
Keep the dream alive, if only so our Children can make the dream a reality.
1 comment:
Well said, Marc. I envision the same things for my nephews, one of whom is bi-racial.
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