Cross Posted at
Travels with Children - One of a continuing series about one mom and her children's journey through America:
There is nothing particularly beautiful or elegant about the architecture in downtown Montgomery. It is all very tired, and shop worn. We had abandon the muddy trailer park for a hotel, and the grittiness of the people living within these rented rooms impacted me. The place was in such disrepair that the shower head popped off as soon as it had built up enough pressure to actually use. It was a big contrast from looking at the furnishings in the
First White House of the Confederacy.
All of this led me to find the Civil Rights Memorial even more aesthetically beautiful than I might have under other circumstances. It was very peaceful, and evocative, and the on site security guard did not detract from the contemplative aspects.
The Civil Rights Memorial was designed by
Maya Lin, who is better known for her design of the Vietnam Veteran's Memorial. She became inspired by the quote from Dr. King: "until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream," and worked out the details of the design on the back of a napkin in a restaurant in Montgomery.
It is executed in granite. It memorializes those who gave their lives to the Civil Rights Movement during the period from 1954 and the Brown v. Board decision to the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. in 1968. There is an intentional gap left between the beginning and the end, intended to honor those whose sacrifice went unrealized.
As I had found from my visit to the
National Civil Rights Museum in Memphis, the memorial center offered very well done interactive displays that were very engaging. Visitors are able to trace not only the history of the Civil Rights Movement, but hear the memories of the victims told through their friends and relatives.
We didn't have time to hear all of them, and I quickly realized that the content of the conversation was probably more than Rider should go away with, but the one that stuck with me, although I can't recall her name, and I wish I had made more note of it at the time, was a woman, who was a housewife, who had heard Dr. King's call and drove down to be a part of it. She was driving an African American worker home after a rally, late at night, and was chased down and shot.
As I stood there I realized: that could very easily have been me, leaving my children motherless, being at the wrong place for the right reason.
The Civil Rights Memorial in Montgomery is the only memorial to these men, women, and children who became part of American History through their sacrifice.
After the historical section, from which I literally had to tug Rider away because I was afraid she would hear too much, you pass into a room with a floor to ceiling video screen that looks like a cascading waterfall, several layers deep, of names. It is called the Wall of Tolerance.
For the most part during the trip I saw myself as an observer of communities and culture, and not joined in it. But right in that moment I was so moved, because Rider had taken it upon herself to figure out the interactive display and was busily entering in all of our names.
Those who participate in the Wall of Tolerance pledge to work for justice, equality, and human rights. Rider felt it was terribly important to be included, and to connect each one of us with this purpose, including Mr. Detail, who was very far away.
Each one of the people whose lives were captured and preserved in the memorial center were ordinary people. We often hear about the more well known figures in the Movement, but I had never felt I could identify with them, because all I had ever heard of were the college students and professionally trained activists, but the people who were on the march from Selma to Montgomery, and the people who came from all over the United States to be part of the Movement, were ordinary people, that could have been a friend, or any member of my family, or me.
It was a spirit within each of them that caused them to make their mark, so that each one of us can enjoy the fruits of life and liberty.