This week’s
article summary is What
You Don't Know About Rosa Parks.
What I especially
liked about the article, written by Rosa Park’s niece, is that it provides a
fuller picture of Rosa Parks and that even as a child she courageously stood up
against discrimination, injustice, and prejudice.
The article is an
example of not believing the one-dimensional caricatures we have of many historical
heroes, which, to me, extends to us not succumbing to deep rooted societal
stereotypes that somehow manage to persist.
Once such
caricature is the story of George Washington chopping down a cherry tree as a
young boy and then admitting rather than lying about it. I’m sure Washington
was honest yet the story is a fabrication to teach students to tell the truth.
Another is the
myth that Jackie Robinson was chosen from among many other African-Americans by
Branch Rickey of the Brooklyn Dodgers to break the color barrier in major
league baseball because he had a natural mellow temperament and calm demeanor.
In fact, Jackie Robinson, like Rosa Parks, had always strongly advocated for
his and others’ rights—as young man he was nearly court martialed by the army
for his frequent protests about being unfairly mistreated by those of superior
rank to him.
To me, this
article is a reminder that no matter how much we think we know about something
or someone, there is always more we can learn to deepen our knowledge and
understanding. One of the main reasons I chose education as a career is it continues
to inspire me to be a seeker of knowledge. As Socrates is credited with saying
“I know that I am intelligent because I know I know nothing.”
Especially in the
midst of Black History month, take the opportunity to try to further your
knowledge and understanding about topics like the Civil Rights Movement and about
important people of color throughout history.
You may have seen
the depressing recent statistic that only 8% of American high school seniors
identify slavery as the primary cause of the Civil War. You might have also
seen the commercial during the Super Bowl that a voice over of an MLK speech in
an attempt to sell Dodge Ram trucks.
To me, the best
cure for ignorance is guidance from mentors (who know more than you about
something), access to information (the good, the bad, and the ugly),
independent thought, reflection and discussion, and a healthy skepticism that
everything we read and hear most likely has some sort of bias and isn’t all
there is to the truth.
Take the few
minutes to read this article to get a fuller picture of Rosa Parks as a person
of color, an activist, a woman, and the personal sacrifices she made to pave
the way for a better life for us.
Joe
This is how you know
her: She was the tired seamstress who refused to give up her seat, sparking the
Montgomery Bus Boycott of 1955. Maybe you remember Rosa Parks as that quiet,
older woman being honored at an awards show. Or maybe you remember seeing
pictures of her shaking a President’s hand. But at this year’s Golden Globes,
when Oprah Winfrey talked about Recy Taylor, a woman from Alabama
who was kidnapped and raped by six white men, Oprah also did some myth-busting
about my aunt with these words: "Her story was reported to the NAACP where
a young worker by the name of Rosa Parks became the lead investigator on her
case and together they sought justice."
I was excited
when Oprah brought up Taylor’s story because people need to know these things
happened to black women. It’s our history. But it was also emotional for me to
hear Oprah’s words because she gave people the chance to see that Rosa Parks —
my Auntie Rosa — was not just a tired old lady who sat down on a bus one day. I
don’t want her legacy be turned into a caricature. I believe her story is more
relevant than ever because she and people like her laid a foundation so that
women today can be more vocal, can run for office, can demand equal rights and
equal pay, and say we don’t have to be harassed.
I give presentations to
organizations and schools about how tirelessly my aunt worked for justice and
how she’d been heavily involved in civil rights work long before she refused to
give up that seat. But I didn’t realize who my aunt really was until I was
19-years-old in
1995 and
she took me to a NAACP event. People were screaming at her like she was Michael
Jackson. "Oh my God, you’re Rosa Parks." I had never witnessed that.
The whole time Auntie Rosa was sitting there, like "Oh it’s not a big
deal." She was very humble.
After that NAACP event,
that’s when I started asking her questions about what she witnessed, what she
endured, and what life was like for black people back then. That led to her
telling me a lot of stories. She’d tell me what her life was like when she was
a little girl growing up in Alabama. One of the things that people don’t
understand about my aunt is that she was an activist her whole life and she
started questioning things at a young age. I think part of it was her
upbringing with her grandfather. He would sit up at night with a shotgun — in
case the KKK might come by and try to kill them — and talk to her about black
resistance and the key figures in it: Crispus Attucks, Harriet Tubman, Marcus
Garvey. That laid the foundation for my aunt to feel like, "This isn’t
right. I should be doing something and becoming an activist." Her whole
life became dedicated to change.
When she was 10, a white
boy pushed Auntie Rosa, and she pushed him back. Auntie Rosa’s grandmother told
her, "You need to be quiet, you need to stop being so vocal." She was
told, as black people, we’re not allowed to do those things to whites. Her
grandmother was concerned that she’d get hurt, that she could even get lynched.
But Auntie Rosa told her grandmother, "Let them try to lynch me." She
was that bold, even when she was young.
Sometimes I
struggle with social media because it seems there’s always somebody belittling
Auntie Rosa. I recently saw someone post that my aunt wasn’t really black. Or
people say that she was strategically placed on the bus in Montgomery because
she was lighter skinned. It’s amazing to me that they would think that. Yes,
our family ancestry is part African American, part white, and part Native
American. Auntie Rosa considered herself black and was treated as black. We
have a lot of work to do in this country regarding colorism, but whether you’re
light or dark — and this is still true today — you are black in America and
you’re going to be treated accordingly.
People also think
that her not giving up her seat was all a planned, staged thing for the media.
Maybe you've seen that famous picture of my aunt getting arrested and the man
fingerprinting her — well, that’s not even from December 1, 1955. It’s from the
second time she was arrested. (Yes, she got arrested more than once.) By the
time that photograph was taken, word had gotten out across the country that
Montgomery had started a bus boycott. So that’s when the media showed up to
take a picture.
My aunt wasn’t even
paying attention that day she got on the bus. She had been avoiding that
driver’s bus for 12 years. He would stop at her stop and she wouldn’t get on.
That particular day she wasn’t paying attention because she was thinking of
Emmett Till, who had been murdered that summer. She already paid her money when
she realized it was that driver, but then she figured she’d go ahead and sit
down. She didn’t stand up when the driver demanded that she stand up because
she kept thinking of him being killed. She was that angry. Keep in mind, it was
legal for bus drivers back then to carry handguns — my aunt could have been
shot and killed on that bus.
Once word of
mouth spread about what happened to my aunt, it helped people have a little bit
more courage than before. You have to understand, my aunt was a known person in
the community. She became the recording secretary for the NAACP almost 15 years
before she refused to give up her seat on that bus. Everyone knew her based off
of her writing down stories like Recy Taylor’s: Oh, she was the lady who held my hand
when my uncle got beat up. She got my kid involved in a youth program to read
books. She was the one who came and tried to get me to register to vote. They
were shocked that something could happen to nice Mrs. Parks. Before then, many
black people were like, "Oh well, that person should have not got
arrested. They should have just gotten off the bus. "
She wrote in
one of her journals about her feelings of hurt after she got arrested. She
worked in the department store where she was a seamstress for the next five
weeks after that and then they let her go. During that time, her black
coworkers didn’t speak to her — that whole five weeks. She would say good
morning and they wouldn’t say anything. It was very disheartening. They looked
at her like she was stirring up trouble for them. My aunt explained to me that
it was because Jim Crow was telling them, "This is the best life you’re
going to have, and you can get killed if you resist."
She didn’t
get real, stable work until 1957 when her brother, my Grandfather McCauley,
convinced her to move to Detroit. She sacrificed her privacy, her job, her
marriage, her health. She never talked about that with people, though. She just
didn’t want to burden people or make them feel sorry for her.
It still breaks my heart
to remember my aunt telling me how many times it took for her to get registered
to vote. Back then, they made black folks take a literacy test knowing that
many couldn’t read or write. But Auntie Rosa, she knew all the answers
backwards and forwards, but year after year they denied her. And finally it was
a white woman in the office who said, just let her register to vote. My aunt
had been persistent, showing up. "I’m here to take the test so I can get
registered to vote."
Yes, I’m glad
that Oprah spoke up about Recy Taylor and about my aunt. I know people might
still try to belittle my Auntie Rosa by saying, "Oh she was just a little
seamstress." But that "little seamstress" is proof you can be
anything out here and still make changes in your community. My aunt felt
passionate about civil rights — it was a passion she felt in her soul, and we
all have to tap into that. Whether it’s working with children or with the
elderly, or voting rights or women’s rights — working at a homeless shelter or
women’s shelter or getting trained to volunteer on a suicide hotline on the
weekends. We can all do a little thing and the ripple effect of it can go a
long way.
Today,
I’ll be visiting Rosa Parks Elementary School in Toledo, Ohio to talk about my
aunt with the kids. And I’m going to tell them to remember that Rosa Parks was
a regular citizen that, in her heart, felt like she should be doing something
for change. Instead of waiting for others, she took that leap
