I rose in Selma in my hotel and immediately returned to the blog I had started the night before and finished it. It was past 7 when I published it. I then rushed to finish my usual items—shower, shave, dress, and so on—and sat on my suitcase, reorganizing everything in it, and closed it. I rolled downstairs, turned in my key, and got some breakfast. Dondrea and Ken were there, as were Doug and Kathy. I am not usually the last one (Michael and Seth showed a bit later). With some industrial eggs and potatoes in me, and coffee consumed, I dropped off my bag and joined Dondrea on the bus. She gets the window seat.
While the hotel is in Selma, it is closer to the highway and about 10 minutes from the old town. We unloaded at the famous Edmund Pettus Bridge, and there we gathered with DeSean, who read a formal text from an iPad. The service remembered the past, recognized the current issues, and looked to the future. There were three water pourings, one for each section. “We come to remember…those who suffered…children taken too soon.” The chimes of a clock rang through part of the service and seemed to make it more sacred. “For living and repair…those who carry the weight of tragedy in their bodies…for those who speak.” The last pouring, as mentioned, was for the future: “For next…to be built…what we will remember…may our steps be steady…our hearts open and have courage.”
With this done, we walk across the bridge. I did not, at first, feel worthy, and I could not take a selfie on the bridge. I turned down the invitation to join a joint photo. I did enjoy the walk and thought of it as a prayer of thanksgiving. The day was warming from its cool start, it was bright, and the Alabama River was muddy but lovely. A perfect day for this walk.
A woman, whose name may have been Dickson, who has a shop on the other side, met us at the end of the walk, and sadly, the place was where Bloody Sunday began. Sacred ground–she stood in the parking lot and retold the story of the attack here. For no charge, she gave us all a newspaper celebrating the 60th anniversary last March and wishing us all well. We thanked her. We returned to the bus and headed out to the Center of Nonviolence Training (www.SelmaCNTR.org).
Ainka Jackson greeted us as we sat at tables in a lecture room. Everything was purple, even her shirt and the folders that held the training material. The Edmund Pettus Bridge was visible from the windows, and the logo included elements of the bridge. She covered the principles of nonviolence with us, as well as the process.
Ainka lectured, and her words were powerful. She reminded us, “love is justice when it connects,” “our fears need to be recognised, and then we can decide what to do,” and “we’ve got to get good at our feelings.” She then covered that love and power are not opposites, but work together (here). This was new to many of us (including me).
I did get a bit emotional for part of the morning class. My family’s past in the Klan made some of this hard to process. I did feel better after.
Mama Callie was introduced to us. She and her husband had stayed up late making us a wonderful chicken dinner (and salmon for someone with dietary restrictions). She also told us her story of recovery from a drug addiction, her son being murdered, and asking the judge to show mercy for her son’s murderer (she later met the man who killed her son, and he thanked her for saving his life with that), and losing her daughter to cancer. It was a powerful witness as you laughed and smiled, telling us about the food and your life.
Mama Callie: “I believe in miracles as I am one,” “If you get food like this again, you call me; someone broke into my kitchen,” “this is (food) medicine,” and “I have to encourage myself in the Lord.” After we had the fantastic lunch and learned that the mac and cheese was excellent, the recipe was from her uncle, who abused her. She has forgiven not him but herself, and makes the mac and cheese to get something good and something from her uncle. A sort of redemption for him, too. After telling the story, “don’t let that change the flavor,” she advised us.
Finally, we heard she has started on a cookbook, and we encouraged her to finish it. She sang and shared more words: “Justice is mercy,” “don’t ask for what you are unwilling to give,” and “We got to be the light.”
We returned to lecture and training on nonviolence from Ainka. She finished our overview and I recorded a few more words: “Curiosity is key” to understanding opponents–be creative, remember “there is a reason people think that way,” we are not here to debunk, “lean in and listen,” “change has to start with us”, and your opponents will change you (and you them) and become allies. She also reminded us that we can be distracted by the goal rather than the cause, and that a good word for the process of nonviolence is ‘co-liberation.’ We, with our opponents, win together.
We took a walking tour of Selma and visited the cement court on the playground, which was the site of the march that started on Bloody Sunday. We were led by a Foot Soldier representative whose grandmother was there for the marches, and she told us some of the story. She also explained that their organization, Foot Soldiers Park (here), They are trying to build a park and facilities dedicated to the Foot Soldiers of the marches and protests. The tour was cut short as our guide had a family emergency, and we prayed for her and her family on the bus.
We traveled a few hours to Montgomery, the capital, and had a short bus tour of the sights, but in the dark, which made it hard to discern. We stopped by MLK’s church here and the parsonage that was fire bombed and had Rev. King realize, as he recorded in his own story, to decide to proceed and risk his life and that of his family. In the parsonage, at the kitchen table, he sat and faced this terrible truth.
We had a wonderful BBQ chicken dinner at the More Up Campus and then headed to our hotel. We, just us from our church, got our rooms, then headed to the bar and had an excellent drink from a boisterous bartender while debriefing about the trip and planning how to incorporate what we learned into the services at our church.
We found many of our fellow people on the trip outside in the roof bar, enjoying the warm evening. I headed back to my room, wrote for a while, and then slept. I woke once, but slept well.
Thanks for reading!
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