Ann Sherman, Nederland. On August 28th, I flew to Washington DC in search of something that would add some hope and meaning to my life.  My inner moral compass had a strong urge to fly eastward in the midst of a pandemic.  And yet, I couldn’t quite explain the pull to our nation’s capital until I experienced the destination and returned back to the mountains of Colorado to reflect on my travels.

“The ultimate measure of a {person} is not where {s/he} stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where {s/he} stands at times of challenge and controversy.” ~  MLK

For many of us, 2020 has been a very taxing year.  Most of us have grappled with social isolation and Covid fears,  the awakening across our nation about racial injustice, financial loss, separation from friends and relatives, too much family togetherness packed inside our homes, political extremism, the gaining of 19 Covid pounds, learning to function competently on digital platforms, and experiencing the endless uncertainty and changes in our roles and responsibilities.   

In response to all this craziness and chaos, I could curl up on the couch and continue to watch the news.  I could scream (instead of howl in solidarity) at 8pm every night until my neighbors call 911.  I could whine and moan.  I could post snarky or creative memes on social media.  I could book that therapy session I’ve been meaning to do ever since my dad died.  I could call a friend and go for an energizing distanced hike.  I could stare inside the refrigerator one more time.  I could read books and try to understand the crucible that our society is now in.   I did many of those things, but then I decided to gather along with tens of thousands of my fellow Americans (after steering clear of crowds for the last 6 months).  I congregated with folks who in one way or another wanted to be heard.  I went to the Lincoln Memorial in DC for the 57th Anniversary of the historic March on Washington.  

“We know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed.” ~ MLK

This was no campaign rally.  After getting my temperature taken by an elderly volunteer, I found a place in the shade of an oak tree next to the reflection ponds which spread from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial toward the Washington Monument. It was a humid, balmy 95-degree day in late August.  Each speaker conveyed their yearnings for racial justice.   I placed my white body an appropriate 6 -12 feet from the other peaceful protestors (90% of which were African Americans of all ages).  I scanned the placards carried by mask-faced attendees.  Every one of the 20,000+ participants sported a facial covering as they joined the chorus of cries for a racial reckoning.  In the same vein of King and his nonviolent direct action tactics, most signs raised awareness about the ongoing problem of police brutality, policies that create health and wealth disparities, and tactics creating widespread voter suppression.  They pushed for passage of the George Floyd Policing Act and the John Lewis Voting Rights bill to change the racist structures of society.  Few signs, if any, named a specific person or attacked any political leader as the sole cause of our situation.   One sign that differed slightly from this formula caught my eye.  As a baby boomer, I was encouraged to read, “Mr. President:  You messed with the wrong generation.”  After the microphones crackled and blared for all the speakers with righteous rage, marchers skirted down the streets toward the ML King Jr Memorial.  One by one, we walked through granite walls etched with King’s inspirational wisdom and challenge for our nation: 

“True peace is not merely the absence of tension; it is the presence of justice.”  ~MLK 

Being a visibly white woman in a predominantly black crowd is not what penetrated my consciousness on that trip, but it was the first step.  The following day allowed me to walk for a minute in someone else’s shoes; to take the perspective of a person of color in these Divided States of America.  We toured DC by foot and car.  It was impossible to get within blocks of the White House.  Layer upon layer, block after block of walls, fencing, and cement barriers have been erected for blocks around the White House.  The dwelling at Pennsylvania Ave and 16th Street has been turned into a militarized fortress where it appears that its inhabitants have bunkered down in fear and loathing for the democracy at play outside its doors.  The adjoining Lafayette Park, where Americans typically gather to socialize or raise whatever issue touches their hearts, was fenced off- limits to everyone from red and blue states alike.  

Several blocks back from the White House, cement barriers had temporarily turned 16th Street into a walking mall.  For two or three blocks, the road which used to be 16th Street was painted in bright gold and black letters under orders from the Mayor of DC to read “Black Lives Matter”.  This newly named Boulevard has become a tourist destination.  Young families, proud young adults, and elders strutted up and down the street snapping pictures of themselves on this historic site.  I watched three 20-something women collectively strike a pose of power, pride, and resilience.  Another African American family held up a gold-colored diamond street sign that said “Our Street” while they smiled triumphantly.  And then, out of the corner of my eye, I watched a 9-year-old black boy scramble on top of a cement barrier sprayed with “BLM” and dance with joy.  No rioters or looters.  Just Americans celebrating a national awakening while elevating their demands.

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that.” ~MLK

My heart began to feel a tad lighter.  A sliver of hope was renewed somewhere in my body in the midst of this difficult year.  I strongly believe that our streets and institutions can be transformed to serve us all.  Our views can be challenged and reshaped.  We can collectively do the work needed.  We can get into “good trouble” and fulfill the dream of creating the beloved community.  

In many ways, my trip to DC did not change one thing in our country.  I had walked with the same marchers 37 years earlier, alongside my mom on the street directly in front of the White House.  Our deeply rooted racial inequities have changed little since then.  Students attend schools that are more segregated now than before the court ruling in Brown vs Board of Education (1954). Our neighborhoods continue to be separate and anything but equal.  We worship separately with contrasting theologies tumbling from the pulpit.  Black lives have continued to be lost at the hands of police or by private vigilantes.  Black lives are shortened and riddled with disease due to the inaccessibility of health care.  Wealth inequities, suffering and poverty have continued while gentrification has soared.  Analysis of racial oppression and its resulting resistance are often still missing from our children’s education.  New ways are contrived to suppress the vote.  Virulent white supremacists feel emboldened and now patrol our streets with AR-15s.   Emmitt Till (1955) is now Ahmaud Arbery (2020).

“George Floyd isn’t a wake-up call.  The same alarm has been ringing since 1619.  Y’all just keep hitting the snooze button.”  ~ Leslie Salzillo

But somehow my excursion to DC changed something within me.  I felt energized and I notice things are shifting in the Colorado mountains too.  At the same time that the structures of society are clinging to the vestiges of racism, folks in Nederland are talking and reading and wondering what role they can play in repairing the harm that continues to be done in the name of racial supremacy.  There is an energetic movement that wants to rebuild, not just tear down.  On November 5th, from 6 – 7:30pm, TEENS, Inc and the Mountain Strong Families Series will host Sara Sandstrom in a virtual workshop for parents who desire to help their families become more anti-racist.   Sara will help parents understand the history of individual and institutional racism in our country. Parents will have the opportunity to learn the first steps on how to become anti-racist and then share that with their children. The workshop will help parents start the conversation with children and point to what actions families can take to repair the harm and ensure justice for all. Contact ann@teensinc.org for more info.  If we adults commit ourselves & do our own work, our children may be the generation that fulfills the centuries-old dream for racial justice.  And then we could all dance in our streets.  

“I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. This is why right, temporarily defeated, is stronger than evil triumphant.” ~MLK  

(Originally published in the October 8, 2020, edition of The Mountain-Ear.)