I lived through the Civil Rights struggle when I was growing up in Natchez. My father, Leo Scanlon, was the pathologist and coroner, so he had to go out almost every weekend to attend a murder scene, mostly for black men murdered by KKK members.
I went to Montebello School when I was very young, and Mr. McCraney, one of our neighbours, was a policeman and handled the traffic every morning. We loved to watch him direct the traffic, and felt sorry for him when he had to stand outside in the pouring rain.
One morning, he had a big traffic mess to handle when parents in the school started protesting the upcoming integration of Montebello. I had no idea what was going on when I saw angry parents at the school entrance with signs saying to keep the school whites only -- they shouted at everyone who drove past and looked so frightening.
The following school year, however, we had our first black student, Calvin. I can't imagine what that was like for him, being the only black person in an all-white school.
Anyway, we all liked Calvin, and one day, we had big excitement when we got to tour the Honey Bun factory for a school trip, and we each got a Honey Bun freshly made to eat. The bus was driving through a poorer part of town on the way back to school, and I decided to be clever. I whispered to a friend, "Hey, we're driving through Calvin's part of town." Then she whispered it to others, and others whispered it, and I was sitting next to Calvin and soon noticed big tears rolling down his cheeks.
He'd heard my remark. I'd made him cry! I was so ashamed of myself. How could I have done such a thing? I hadn't meant to hurt his feelings; I was only trying to be cute and wasn't thinking.
It made me think hard about racism. I was so sure I wasn't racist because we'd welcomed Calvin to school, yet I could make a remark like that. I'm still ashamed to this day of what I did, and it makes me think that we all have to struggle with racism, feeling superior to others for no reason, etc., no matter how we pride ourselves on our perfection in public. The internal struggles are the hardest.
Showing posts with label Racism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Racism. Show all posts
Monday, February 09, 2009
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Obama's Historic Win: One Natchezian's View
As I said in this article, I spent election night at a party. Without a doubt, the most excited person there was Mary Jane. Recently, she sent around an email to family and friends. I found it very moving and asked if I could post it here. Here is the version she sent, which I publish here proudly.
November 4, 2008 , election night, was a historic night for me. I realized I had lived to see what I thought would not happen in my lifetime. Upon hearing my candidate, Barack Obama, was elected President of the United States, all I could do was cheer, cry and repeat, “I can’t believe it.” Calls of joy came pouring in from my family, my brother in Seoul, Korea’s Embassy, my son at the Barcelona’s Consulate’s party where he appeared on TV, from my son at a Democratic Party of Expatriates in Madrid, from my son celebrating with thousands on the streets of Seattle waving the American flag and cheering, from Northern Virginia, Wisconsin, and Louisiana!! My faith that society could change for the better was suddenly restored. My lost faith replaced with the faith that good can prevail.
You see, I was born here in Mississippi at the start of World War II, and I lived to know that my Dad was different. For one thing he voted for Harry Truman, when most Southerners refused to do so because Truman integrated the army. My Dad led the family in the daily prayer and discussion of the social gospel. Christianity without social action was meaningless, he said. In my first election I received some ugly descriptions, because I proudly voted for LBJ when most of my race would not, as he had signed the voting rights amendment. I had registered to vote at the Adams County Court House by only signing my name, while at the same time a man of color was being asked to interpret a complex clause of the Constitution. I knew that our Southern way of life did not treat Blacks as equals. On my wedding day Blacks tried to use Duncan Park for the first time and were met with Klansman with chains, baseball bats, swing blades, and guns. It marred that day, and I knew I had to help change the place where I was born. I could never pretend I did not know what was going on. I did not want to be living blindly.
Just thinking differently had its isolation. It was rare to find friends to openly talk to. Most were newcomers, FBI workers and their families, civil right lawyers, and COFO workers. There were other like minded Whites, Francis Trosclair, Father Morrisy, and of course, my hero Marge Baroni, my spiritual mentor. Marge was a convert to Catholicism along with my dad Tom Reed. She was highly intelligent with an open mind, heart, and home. It was at her home I met Dorothy Day, Lena Gitter, and many national people who made their way to her frequently bombed home. Old friends tolerated me, and just didn’t talk politics. This silence, or denial, was deadly. When the town was about to explode in violence, no elected officials were taking action. With Marge, I sent letters to all the MISS-LOU Black and White churches to invite Women Concerned about Natchez to come together. One hundred fifty persons came. Twenty-five were White, but they were people of strong conviction and prominence in the community - Grace McNeil, Anna Rose Metcalfe, and Gladys Smith to name only a few. I wish we had a sign in sheet just to remember who all came. Just coming to the meeting at night at St. Mary ‘s Cathedral in the midst of a town about to go up in smoke was scary. Inside the meeting, signs adorned the walls of St Theresa’s Hall with a quote from Dante’s Divine Comedy, “The hottest place in hell is reserved for those who in a time of crisis do nothing.” Our meeting the next month was cancelled because several new explosions took place. The National Guard rolled into to town with armed soldiers and tanks to keep order. The Mayor’s new grocery store on North Pine was bombed, his home was bombed, and several buildings on St Catherine Street were blown up. Marches continued asking for the simplest of actions, courtesy titles for grown ups, and Blacks on the police force. More arrests. Jails were overfilled and so bus loads of arrested Blacks were taken to prison at Parchman,
The fear that prevailed in the town is almost impossible for people to believe today. With more threats, I moved my children out of the front of the house. Attending a workshop at the NAACP headquarters was frightening. I volunteered to teach in the all Black public Sadie V. Thompson just to help overcome the distance between the races.
Encouraging Blacks to overcome their fear and, for the first time in their lives, to register to vote was difficult. The roots of their fear were old and deep. Unwritten in any Natchez Democrat stories, things were happening to keep the status quo. People were beaten in the middle of the night, killed and thrown off bridges. Some were picked up at night, stripped naked, and left to die in the woods. Others were threatened with bombs and cross burnings in the middle of the night. A Ferriday man was locked in his place of work and burned to death. Many were killed. Churches, cars, stores, and homes were bombed. Terrorism was alive and well in Natchez, Mississippi. As far as I know there are no recorded records of all these events, but there needs to be.
I saw fifty or so Klansman in full dress in their white hoods riding their horses around a giant burning cross at Liberty Ball Field. Their ugly deeds were whispered about in the White world, but caused fear, deep fear in the hearts of the Black world and in the world of Whites who stepped out of line. A riot occurred to allow one Black man to enter Ole Miss. From the pulpits it was usually silence. Any White minister who dared to challenge the Southern way of life was forced to leave town or suffered other consequences. Terrorism was tearing the heart and soul out of this town and all of Mississippi. Much that happened I don’t know, despite trying to know. Mississippi was the Closed Society, to quote James Silver, who was forced to leave Ole Miss for saying so in his book published in 1962
Just before this current election of November 4, 2008, I was told I should not vote for Obama because “under his rule the terrorist from ‘over there’ would be on our streets here in the US - just like Baghdad ” Well, my friends, they have been on our streets. A bloody war 150 years ago was not enough to stop the mistreatment of one race by another. The reign of terror from that war through the Civil Rights movement was not enough. But those laws did change some of the people. The fact is our country has elected the first Black U.S. President. Best of all they voted not because of his race, but for his character, knowledge, his record, and his temperament. Martin Luther King’s dream is coming true.
I think, whether you are a Democrat or a Republican, we as members of the United States can celebrate that our country has changed. My family can all testify that the whole world is looking at us differently and with greater respect. The Declaration of Independence is no longer full of the shadow of hypocrisy. We are now a true model for the world! I can’t believe we made this much change in my life time!!
November 4, 2008 , election night, was a historic night for me. I realized I had lived to see what I thought would not happen in my lifetime. Upon hearing my candidate, Barack Obama, was elected President of the United States, all I could do was cheer, cry and repeat, “I can’t believe it.” Calls of joy came pouring in from my family, my brother in Seoul, Korea’s Embassy, my son at the Barcelona’s Consulate’s party where he appeared on TV, from my son at a Democratic Party of Expatriates in Madrid, from my son celebrating with thousands on the streets of Seattle waving the American flag and cheering, from Northern Virginia, Wisconsin, and Louisiana!! My faith that society could change for the better was suddenly restored. My lost faith replaced with the faith that good can prevail.
You see, I was born here in Mississippi at the start of World War II, and I lived to know that my Dad was different. For one thing he voted for Harry Truman, when most Southerners refused to do so because Truman integrated the army. My Dad led the family in the daily prayer and discussion of the social gospel. Christianity without social action was meaningless, he said. In my first election I received some ugly descriptions, because I proudly voted for LBJ when most of my race would not, as he had signed the voting rights amendment. I had registered to vote at the Adams County Court House by only signing my name, while at the same time a man of color was being asked to interpret a complex clause of the Constitution. I knew that our Southern way of life did not treat Blacks as equals. On my wedding day Blacks tried to use Duncan Park for the first time and were met with Klansman with chains, baseball bats, swing blades, and guns. It marred that day, and I knew I had to help change the place where I was born. I could never pretend I did not know what was going on. I did not want to be living blindly.
Just thinking differently had its isolation. It was rare to find friends to openly talk to. Most were newcomers, FBI workers and their families, civil right lawyers, and COFO workers. There were other like minded Whites, Francis Trosclair, Father Morrisy, and of course, my hero Marge Baroni, my spiritual mentor. Marge was a convert to Catholicism along with my dad Tom Reed. She was highly intelligent with an open mind, heart, and home. It was at her home I met Dorothy Day, Lena Gitter, and many national people who made their way to her frequently bombed home. Old friends tolerated me, and just didn’t talk politics. This silence, or denial, was deadly. When the town was about to explode in violence, no elected officials were taking action. With Marge, I sent letters to all the MISS-LOU Black and White churches to invite Women Concerned about Natchez to come together. One hundred fifty persons came. Twenty-five were White, but they were people of strong conviction and prominence in the community - Grace McNeil, Anna Rose Metcalfe, and Gladys Smith to name only a few. I wish we had a sign in sheet just to remember who all came. Just coming to the meeting at night at St. Mary ‘s Cathedral in the midst of a town about to go up in smoke was scary. Inside the meeting, signs adorned the walls of St Theresa’s Hall with a quote from Dante’s Divine Comedy, “The hottest place in hell is reserved for those who in a time of crisis do nothing.” Our meeting the next month was cancelled because several new explosions took place. The National Guard rolled into to town with armed soldiers and tanks to keep order. The Mayor’s new grocery store on North Pine was bombed, his home was bombed, and several buildings on St Catherine Street were blown up. Marches continued asking for the simplest of actions, courtesy titles for grown ups, and Blacks on the police force. More arrests. Jails were overfilled and so bus loads of arrested Blacks were taken to prison at Parchman,
The fear that prevailed in the town is almost impossible for people to believe today. With more threats, I moved my children out of the front of the house. Attending a workshop at the NAACP headquarters was frightening. I volunteered to teach in the all Black public Sadie V. Thompson just to help overcome the distance between the races.
Encouraging Blacks to overcome their fear and, for the first time in their lives, to register to vote was difficult. The roots of their fear were old and deep. Unwritten in any Natchez Democrat stories, things were happening to keep the status quo. People were beaten in the middle of the night, killed and thrown off bridges. Some were picked up at night, stripped naked, and left to die in the woods. Others were threatened with bombs and cross burnings in the middle of the night. A Ferriday man was locked in his place of work and burned to death. Many were killed. Churches, cars, stores, and homes were bombed. Terrorism was alive and well in Natchez, Mississippi. As far as I know there are no recorded records of all these events, but there needs to be.
I saw fifty or so Klansman in full dress in their white hoods riding their horses around a giant burning cross at Liberty Ball Field. Their ugly deeds were whispered about in the White world, but caused fear, deep fear in the hearts of the Black world and in the world of Whites who stepped out of line. A riot occurred to allow one Black man to enter Ole Miss. From the pulpits it was usually silence. Any White minister who dared to challenge the Southern way of life was forced to leave town or suffered other consequences. Terrorism was tearing the heart and soul out of this town and all of Mississippi. Much that happened I don’t know, despite trying to know. Mississippi was the Closed Society, to quote James Silver, who was forced to leave Ole Miss for saying so in his book published in 1962
Just before this current election of November 4, 2008, I was told I should not vote for Obama because “under his rule the terrorist from ‘over there’ would be on our streets here in the US - just like Baghdad ” Well, my friends, they have been on our streets. A bloody war 150 years ago was not enough to stop the mistreatment of one race by another. The reign of terror from that war through the Civil Rights movement was not enough. But those laws did change some of the people. The fact is our country has elected the first Black U.S. President. Best of all they voted not because of his race, but for his character, knowledge, his record, and his temperament. Martin Luther King’s dream is coming true.
I think, whether you are a Democrat or a Republican, we as members of the United States can celebrate that our country has changed. My family can all testify that the whole world is looking at us differently and with greater respect. The Declaration of Independence is no longer full of the shadow of hypocrisy. We are now a true model for the world! I can’t believe we made this much change in my life time!!
Saturday, November 08, 2008
What the Election Tells Us About the South: Part II
One major finding from the election is the racial divide that still exists in the South. Two thirds of white voters in the South voted for McCain, whereas in the rest of the country white voters just barely preferred McCain. We like to think we've overcome racism, but obviously we haven't.
We saw some ugly results of this is Mississippi. According to the Daily Mississippian, the Ole Miss campus was disrupted by racial incidents on election night. The Clarion Ledger details other incidents of racial incidents, as does WAPT.
Contrast this with the results of a USA Today/Gallup poll showing national optimism about racial relations, with two thirds thinking problems will be worked out - the highest since the poll was started in 1963.
We saw some ugly results of this is Mississippi. According to the Daily Mississippian, the Ole Miss campus was disrupted by racial incidents on election night. The Clarion Ledger details other incidents of racial incidents, as does WAPT.
Contrast this with the results of a USA Today/Gallup poll showing national optimism about racial relations, with two thirds thinking problems will be worked out - the highest since the poll was started in 1963.
I was so proud of Ole Miss at the first Presidential debate, as it tried to show the country how far it had come since 1963 when James Meredith was the first black to attend. Now it has to contend with these racial incidents on election night, which probably negated all its efforts.
Racism and bigotry are related to low socioeconomic and education levels - both of which are prevelant in the South. Mississippi has the lowest median family income and the lowest education level in the country . If we are ever to climb out of our poverty, we have to overcome this bigotry. No industries will come to a state with our racial history until we show we've overcome it. We have come a long way, but we still have a long way to go.
Racism and bigotry are related to low socioeconomic and education levels - both of which are prevelant in the South. Mississippi has the lowest median family income and the lowest education level in the country . If we are ever to climb out of our poverty, we have to overcome this bigotry. No industries will come to a state with our racial history until we show we've overcome it. We have come a long way, but we still have a long way to go.
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