“Montgomery on My Mind”

People always say that I didn’t give up my seat because I was tired, but that isn’t true. I was not tired physically…No, the only tired I was, was tired of giving in –Rosa Parks

My colleague, Dr. Ramona Hyman, always has “Montgomery” and its rich Civil Rights history “on [her] mind.” Thanks to her, I have Montgomery, Alabama on my mind too as I prepare to spend a couple of days there with her and several Huntsville educators “Revisiting the Montgomery Bus Boycott.” The educators are working on integrating this piece of history into their K-12 classes. I have a different research agenda–as I’m thinking through a project on women’s involvement in critical moments in history.

Today is a perfect time to share some of the Rosa Parks postcards in my collection. I’ve had them for quite some time, but now that I’m thinking about Montgomery, it’s an appropriate time to share.

Many people know about her contribution to American civil rights and history, but just in case you don’t know–Rosa Parks is considered the “Mother of the Civil Rights Movement.” Her refusal to give up her bus seat to a white passenger in Montgomery, Alabama on December 1, 1955 “triggered a wave of protests that reverberated throughout the United States.” The boycott lasted for more than a year and ultimately catapulted Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. into national prominence. The boycotts led to the U.S. Supreme Court decision outlawing segregation on city buses.

Here are three related postcards from my collection:

The “Rosa Parks Bus” at the Henry Ford Museum in Dearborn, Michigan

From the postcard back:

Montgomery City Bus 2857. Originally built in 1948 in Pontiac, Michigan, Bus 2857 was operated by the Montgomery City Bus Lines in Montgomery, Alabama from 1954-1971. Rosa Parks was riding this bus on the evening of December 1, 1955 when she was arrested for not giving up her seat to a white man. This incident sparked subsequent civil rights protests, especially the boycott of Montgomery’s bus system. The Montgomery Bus Boycott was the beginning of a revolutionary era of non-violent mass protests in support of civil rights in the United States. The yearlong boycott kept Montgomery’s [black population] off all buses until December 1956 when the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that the segregation of public transportation was unconstitutional. Bus 2857 was retired and sold in 1971. After sitting for 30 years in a field, the bus was purchased by auction by The Henry Ford [Museum} and has been restored to appear as it did in 1955. The bus is now on display in the Henry Ford Museum.

You can find more details about the purchase and restoration of the bus here: Restoring the Rosa Parks Bus.

Rosa Parks arrested for refusing to yield her seat to a white man.

The postcard, featuring the familiar image of Parks being fingerprinted, comes from the Women Who Dared collection sent to me during Women’s History Month several years ago. The sender added a Parks quote:

Each person must live life as a model for others. –Rosa Parks

Rosa Parks (1913-2005)

The art above is part of the “Celebrating Women” banners that were on display at The Lower Eastside Girls Club’s Celebrate Cafe in New York City when I visited several years ago (2010, maybe?). If I remember correctly, each banner was created by a young woman who was involved in the Club.

You can find out a lot more about Rosa Parks by reading her biography on the Rosa and Raymond Parks Institute website. You’ll find that she was much more than the woman who refused to give up her seat.

“A Hymn for Montgomery 55” by Ramona Hyman
from her collection, In the Sanctuary of the South

Holy, holy, holy: a hymn of praise
For prophets framing freedom
In Montgomery 55: Strange fruits marching–some
Walking, some crawling–some…

Holy, holy, holy–a hymn of praise
Emptying itself
Americans: black and white; hand in hand
Saintly sighing a freedom song of praise

Holy, holy, holy–the march raises
Into victory: freedom swells, the flag: separate
And unequal shreds into the face of anxious
Soldiers–black and white jumping the broom
Into a new day–the Civil Rights Movement begins

Guest Post: “Woke Up to the News” by K.C. Dulan

Photo by Michel Kwan

We’ve all been touched by suicide. Whether it was the death of someone we know or someone we admire, we’ve felt the coldness of that loss for which the answers never satisfy. We may not understand why, but God knows. He is most intimately connected with us, even when we feel detached from Him. As I mentioned in “He Comes Walking,” He is well-acquainted with human suffering, including the desperate, hopeless suffering that leads to an individual’s taking his or her own life.

In a post that first appeared in Medium on June 8, my friend, K.C. Dulan, ruminates over the whys and hows and urges us to truly see each other and give “rest” in life instead of death.

***   ***   ***

Woke up to the news of another suicide of a high-profile individual.

The second one in a week.

And I wondered; how many more died invisible deaths by suicide in-between the two?

Unseen. Unnamed. Unheard.

Wondered about the “why” as the rate steadily climbs.

Wondered about the “how” — how to make it stop; because the truth is those that are willing to DO something about it are often barely treading water themselves.

And I worry about them all…

The doers.

The grinders.

The healers.

The seers.

The feelers.

The bearers.

The wanderers.

The ones who are not readily seen as broken, but are givers — constantly breaking off pieces of themselves to be consumed by the needs and wants of others until nothing remains.

They DO whatever needs to be done regardless of their own mental or emotional capacity and promise to take care of themselves just as soon as this one more thing is done.

They GRIND, determined not to be average and in pursuit of “greatness” or “success” before they have clearly defined what that truly means…and what it really costs…for themselves.

They HEAL (everyone else). Make us laugh, entertain us, show us the world, teach us to love…they stand in the gap or endure public flogging for standing up. Or sitting down. Or marching. Or taking a knee.

They SEE and accept the brokenness in others but are ashamed and cannot forgive or accept their own.

And they FEEL the wounds and pain of humanity and yearn for others to feel it, too.

They BEAR the burdens of their fellow man…shoulders raw, backs bent from carrying the weight of the world.

They WANDER seeking safety, seeking hope, seeking solutions, seeking solace, seeking peace.

People say it’s a selfish act…

Interestingly committed by those who often give the most of themselves –

The warriors doing battle without the armor of selfishness, narcissism, and individualism on the front lines against hate, apathy, indifference, injustice; refusing to take up space with their own pain and suffering;

Those whose internal, looping tapes – embedded by the unrealistic demands and expectations of others – tell them over and over again that they are NEVER enough. No matter how much they accomplish, it will never be enough.

Those who have been sold the unsustainable lie that they are nothing unless they “stay grindin’” — when the very definition of “grind” is to REDUCE (something) to small particles or powder by crushing it.

Until… “IT” becomes the only way to find rest…

How ironic that we then say

Rest in peace.

Rest in freedom.

Rest in power.

It’s all they ever wanted.

If only we could give it to each other in LIFE instead of in death.

#Pleasedontgo #Pleasestay #Youmatter #Youareenough #Iseeyou

_______________________________________

About the author: K.C. Dulan is oddly optimistic that Love will win. She is the wife of one, mother of three, daughter, sister, friend. She is a quiet warrior who is passionate about family, community, faith, and justice.

Vote: New Blog?

My hubby recently uncovered a treasure trove of writings, photographs, and journals from my early life. As I was looking through everything, it seemed a waste to just have things sit in folders and notebooks, unread.

I enjoyed revisiting younger me and reconnecting with her, so I’ve been thinking about starting another blog to allow her to speak–without the intrusions of “present” me.

It is absolutely insane for me to even consider another blog. I have to steal time for this one.  But summer always makes me feel like I can conquer all–including time.

So what do you think? Should my early musings get their own blog? Or should I make it a regular feature–twice monthly, maybe–of my current blog? Or leave it alone altogether?

Vote below.

In Memoriam: Fallen Soldiers, Lost Love

Photo by Kai Kalhh

“The Sonnet-Ballad” by Gwendolyn Brooks

Oh mother, mother, where is happiness?
They took my lover’s tallness off to war,
Left me lamenting. Now I cannot guess
What I can use an empty heart-cup for.
He won’t be coming back here any more.
Some day the war will end, but, oh, I knew
When he went walking grandly out that door
That my sweet love would have to be untrue.
Would have to be untrue. Would have to court
Coquettish death, whose impudent and strange
Possessive arms and beauty (of a sort)
Can make a hard man hesitate—and change.
And he will be the one to stammer, “Yes.”
Oh mother, mother, where is happiness?

Time to Make Art!

It’s almost time for Louise Gale’s next Global heART Exchange, so get your paintbrushes, distress inks, watercolors, and/or camera ready!

I last participated in the swap in February. I think there was an April swap, but I had too much going on to participate. I received three cards from the February swap, and they’ve been craving some attention:

“Sun Flower,” by Lucile

Lucine, of the Netherlands, re-purposed a postcard and doodled me a sunny postcard.  If you look closely, you can see the design of the postcard beneath the white paint. It adds a little something to the doodles. Doesn’t it?

“You Are Enough.” Made by Maria R.

“You Are Enough” comes from Maria R. of Richmond, New Hampshire. She made the card with watercolor and cutouts. Her message on the back solidifies the theme illustrated on the front:

Write your own story! Love yourself!

Jackqulynn W. of  Columbia Falls, Montana cloaked her postcard in an envelope that was almost as beautiful as the contents inside:

Envelope Front, Made by Jackqulynn W.

Envelope Back, Made by Jackqulynn W.

You really have to see the card in person for the full impact of its beauty.

“Heartful.” Made by Jackqulynn W.

Jackqulynn included a quote she found on the Facebook page, Butterflies and Pebbles–something to keep in my heart:

Just a reminder in case your mind is playing tricks on you today. You matter. You are loved. Your laughter is a beautiful thing. And your presence on this earth makes a difference whether you see it or not.

The theme, as you’ve guessed by now, was “love.”  I’m thrilled that even though none of the senders had a clue about who I am or what I like, they all sent favorites–sunflowers, typewriters, hearts, words, and music.

The signup deadline for the next heART exchange is May 27, so step out of your comfort zone, be a kid again–as my colleague suggests–get messy, make something, and show it off!

Here’s the link: Global heART Swap.

 

The Solitary Bird

Just before heading indoors after exploring an abandoned bird’s nest one day last week, I looked up and the golden glow of the sunset sky was so gorgeous, I was stunned. Moments into admiring the sky, a single goose caught my eye, its partner a little distance ahead. I took the shot.

The photo reminded me of a poem Dr. Benn, my undergraduate professor and mentor, shared with me:

The conditions of a solitary bird are five:
The first, that it flies to the highest point;
The second, that it does not suffer for company,
not even of its own kind;
The third, that it aims its beak to the skies;
The fourth, that it does not have a definite color;
The fifth, that it sings very softly.
–San Juan de la Cruz, Sayings of Light and Love

Obviously, this goose has very little in common with the “solitary” bird described in the poem–it was not alone; it doesn’t sing; it doesn’t even “honk” softly. But the lens captured a bird alone and reminded me of the poem.

In the Moment Stories

I’ve wanted to blog all week, but “crazy-busy” wouldn’t let me, so after photographing flowers Thursday morning, I opened the Instagram app to post a photo with a few hashtags. Then, I remembered “stories.” I’d never posted a story before, but I discovered immediately that they are perfect for sharing “in the moment” photos or thoughts when a blog post is out of the question:

Like when you’re driving along and the flowers on the side of the road require some time with them.

Or when, at some point during the morning drive, you look up and the sky deserves more than a glance.

Or while you’re sitting in your car waiting for a meeting to start and you notice dogwood blossoms not too far from you, when everywhere else (as far as you know) the blossoms took leave weeks ago.

Moments like these often sit in my camera or on my phone unshared. There are thousands of them (literally). I’ll do better.

I plan to “flesh out” these particular experiences some time soon with more photos (and words), so stay tuned.

Enjoy your weekend!