Standing up by sitting donw

[shereads]

Rest in peace, Rosa Parks. You earned it. Now it's left for others to deal with the fact that the world remains more divided than not into "us" and "them," the ones who are or aren't worthy of certain unearned privileges and tokens of respect simply because we were born white, or male, or into the right caste or religion.

Does the bigotry persist because there aren't enough people like Rosa Parks? Maybe not. Maybe there are people just as brave, who defy authority but don't survive the repercussions. So their names remain unknown.

To people who never saw public restrooms labeled, "Men," "Ladies" and "Colored," like the ones that still persisted in the sad little mill town my father moved us to when he left the military - long after Rosa Parks' historic act of defiance - it must seem bizarre to learn that the outrageous thing she's famous for was refusing to give up a seat on a bus to a white person; that being arrested wasn't the worst thing that might have happened to her; and that ordinary people, good people in most ways, were infuriated by what she did.

People who respected Rosa Parks may not have been outnumbered, but they were certainly less vocal than the ones who hated and feared what she began. In the South she knew, Civil Rights sympathhizers had to be quiet or pay the price: social ostracism if they were white "nigger lovers;" uglier kinds of intimidation if they were black like Rosa Parks.

I'm descended from people who thought jail was too good for her, and for her fellow troublemakers, the "New York Jews," bleeding-heart liberals and outsiders who took up her cause. My Southern grandparents and great aunts and uncles weren't bad people. They were just ordinary, and as willing as most of us are to accept the status quo, especially when it's to our benefit. My Southern ancestors were mostly poor and only a few had the benefit of education, but they were born with one advantage: they were white in a world where whiteness was a precious gift. No wonder they were outraged by the Civil Rights movement. Their whiteness was losing some of its value, one painful moment at a time. I don't defend their bigotry, but I think I understand it. And I would probably have inherited it, if not for people who risked everything to broaden our definition of what it is to be human and worthy of respect.

Rosa Parks, if they could see you now.

Lying in state in the capital rotunda, the first woman in America to receive the honor. Such a grand gesture for someone who would have settled for keeping her seat on the bus.

Her feet hurt. She had paid the fare. She was, in her own words, "fed up with being fed up."

May she rest well.

 

[Guest]

 

[hugo_sam]

Rest in peace, Rosa Parks. You earned it. Now it's left for others to deal with the fact that the world remains more divided than not into "us" and "them," the ones who are worthy of certain unearned privileges and tokens of respect simply because we were born white, or male, or into the right caste or religion.
\
Does the bigotry persist because there aren't enough people like Rosa Parks? Maybe there are people just as brave, who defy authority but don't survive the repercussions. So their names remain unknown.

To people who never saw public restrooms labeled, "Men," "Ladies" and "Colored," it must seem bizarre to learn that your historic act of defiance was refusing to give up your seat on a bus to a white person; that being arrested wasn't the worst thing that might have happened to you; and that ordinary people, good people in most ways, were infuriated by what you did.

I'm descended from people who thought jail was too good for you. You, and your fellow troublemakers, the "New York Jews," the bleeding-heart liberals, the outsiders who took up your cause. My Southern grandparents and great aunts and uncles weren't bad people. They were just ordinary, and as willing as most of us are to accept the status quo, especially when it's to our benefit. My Southern ancestors were mostly poor, and only a few had the benefit of education, but they were born with one advantage: they were white in a world where whiteness was a precious gift. No wonder they were outraged by the Civil Rights movement. Their whiteness was losing some of its value, one painful moment at a time. I don't defend their bigotry, but I think I understand it. And I would probably have inherited it, if not for people who risked everything to broaden our definition of what it is to be human and worthy of respect.

If they could see you now.

Lying in state in the capital rotunda, the first woman in America to receive the honor. Such a grand gesture for someone who would have settled for keeping her seat on the bus.

Well said Sher.

 

[CharleyH]

Rest in peace, Rosa Parks. You earned it. Now it's left for others to deal with the fact that the world remains more divided than not into "us" and "them," the ones who are worthy of certain unearned privileges and tokens of respect simply because we were born white, or male, or into the right caste or religion.
\
Does the bigotry persist because there aren't enough people like Rosa Parks? Maybe there are people just as brave, who defy authority but don't survive the repercussions. So their names remain unknown.

To people who never saw public restrooms labeled, "Men," "Ladies" and "Colored," it must seem bizarre to learn that your historic act of defiance was refusing to give up your seat on a bus to a white person; that being arrested wasn't the worst thing that might have happened to you; and that ordinary people, good people in most ways, were infuriated by what you did.

I'm descended from people who thought jail was too good for you. You, and your fellow troublemakers, the "New York Jews," the bleeding-heart liberals, the outsiders who took up your cause. My Southern grandparents and great aunts and uncles weren't bad people. They were just ordinary, and as willing as most of us are to accept the status quo, especially when it's to our benefit. My Southern ancestors were mostly poor, and only a few had the benefit of education, but they were born with one advantage: they were white in a world where whiteness was a precious gift. No wonder they were outraged by the Civil Rights movement. Their whiteness was losing some of its value, one painful moment at a time. I don't defend their bigotry, but I think I understand it. And I would probably have inherited it, if not for people who risked everything to broaden our definition of what it is to be human and worthy of respect.

If they could see you now.

Lying in state in the capital rotunda, the first woman in America to receive the honor. Such a grand gesture for someone who would have settled for keeping her seat on the bus.

Cudos Sher, though not more than those you speak of. We can only hope to aspire. Sadly, enough.

 

[impressive]

Well said Sher.

as usual


for Rosa

for shereads

for hope