Every year on the day that celebrates the birth of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., I read his "Letter from a Birmingham Jail," both as a reminder of the struggle for justice by those who came before us which we must carry on today, and because it is so powerfully written. Whatever else you might say about Dr. King, one thing is sure: he penned with words of fire and proclaimed with the voice of a prophet a message of undeniable Truth--the kingdom of God will be long in coming for those of us who cannot reach beyond the divides we have created between ourselves and our neighbors. We talked in ESL class that week about Dr. King's work, and it was frustrating (though not surprising) to see how well my hispanic/latino students could relate to living under the oppressive cloud of blatant racial discrimination and abuse. A fresh reminder of how much work we have to do, how much work I have yet to do, in order to accomplish that kingdom.
This year on MLK Jr. Day, I started a new tradition: I went to our city's MLK Jr. Day parade. MLK Jr. Day here is a big deal--the festivities aren't quite as grandiose as Mardi Gras, and the crowd is mostly African-American as opposed to everybody gettin' down together (if that's not irony, I don't know what is)--but judging by the fact that you have to get there 2 hours early if you want a decent vantage point, it's pretty important in the community. I did feel somewhat ambivalent about the whole celebration because it seemed to be much more about hanging out, watching pretty young thangs shake it in spandex (see below), and getting into the occasional street skirmish than about honoring Dr. King's memory, although the city's prominent NAACP and faith-based groups did pay him homage with floats, artistic & civic represenations, and broadcasted versions of his speeches. (More on the parade below.)
This year on MLK Jr. Day, I started a new tradition: I went to our city's MLK Jr. Day parade. MLK Jr. Day here is a big deal--the festivities aren't quite as grandiose as Mardi Gras, and the crowd is mostly African-American as opposed to everybody gettin' down together (if that's not irony, I don't know what is)--but judging by the fact that you have to get there 2 hours early if you want a decent vantage point, it's pretty important in the community. I did feel somewhat ambivalent about the whole celebration because it seemed to be much more about hanging out, watching pretty young thangs shake it in spandex (see below), and getting into the occasional street skirmish than about honoring Dr. King's memory, although the city's prominent NAACP and faith-based groups did pay him homage with floats, artistic & civic represenations, and broadcasted versions of his speeches. (More on the parade below.)
As much as MLK Jr. Day is a fitting and necessary celebration for our country (evidenced by the monochrome character of the parade-goers--King's message wasn't just for his own community, y'all!), and as much as it functions as a sorely needed catalyst for remembering and honoring the entirety of the Civil Rights movement, it can sometimes feel like a personality cult--King had his faults (as do we all), and he would be the first to admit, I believe, that the movement wasn't about glorifying him, but rather about creating widespread and lasting change, seeking restoration, and advancing the cause of justice. So I was gratified as well as fascinated to learn more about the city's role in the Civil Rights movement--not a story that often emerges from the shadow of its more well-known sisters (the lunch counter sit-ins, the Montgomery bus boycott, etc.), but one which exemplifies creative, grassroots civil disobedience.
I'm talking about the integration of Gulf Coast beaches through the ingenious concept of "wade-in"s, or the simple act by blacks and non-black allies of laying down a towel, putting up a sun umbrella, and going for a swim on sections of public beach considered strictly "white only." The picture above (borrowed from a website about the book Beaches, Blood, & Ballots: A Black Doctor's Civil Rights Struggle by the estimable Dr. Gilbert R. Mason, founder of the Biloxi, MS chapter of the NAACP: http://www.upress.state.ms.us/books/55) shows law enforcement authorities forcibly escorting wade-in integrationists off of the beach, where, as members of the public, they had every right to be. Except, of course, that at the time, "public" didn't include black people.
I haven't read Dr. Mason's book yet, but it's high on my list of books to check out from the local library (after I finish Mississippi Mud, the true story about the Dixie Mafia's most notorious murder, a hit organized by a close relative of the man we rent office space from...I really had no idea what I was getting into down here!). I could hardly believe I'd never heard about this vital piece of history before--and we all know the old maxim about being doomed to repeat ourselves if we can't learn from our past. Thoughts & comments on Dr. King/Civil Rights Movement welcomed!!
As for our own MLK Jr. Day participation, check out the nifty, social justice-themed float HandsOn Gulf Coast put together:
Yes those are giant blue hands with MLK Jr. quotations painted on them. And yes we were the only all-white parade float. Or even mostly-white parade float. Just like later we were the only white/latino people eating soul food at the AME church in the background (whose fellowship hall walls are covered in gigantic murals of black Jesus and black Moses. I dig it).
Yes those are giant blue hands with MLK Jr. quotations painted on them. And yes we were the only all-white parade float. Or even mostly-white parade float. Just like later we were the only white/latino people eating soul food at the AME church in the background (whose fellowship hall walls are covered in gigantic murals of black Jesus and black Moses. I dig it).
This guy is HAPPY to be in the marching band. I mean, who wouldn't be--it's band!!
Check out the fringe, and the pantyhose! There was no shortage of psychedelic, skin-hugging, besequined outfits in this year's parade.
Drumline, anyone? This band kept jumping in and playing their own pieces over the sounds of other bands performing. And that's why it's called a Battle of the Bands!Happy belated MLK Jr. Day, y'all--now go think about race relations and how you can break down some of those prejudices to which we all cling so very tightly.
