Today’s memory of Black History comes courtesy of the Jon S. Randal Peace Page …
Michael couldn’t understand. From the age of 3, Little Michael had been best friends with another boy. Although Little Michael was Black, and his friend was white, it didn’t matter to either of them. They enjoyed each other’s company, and they loved playing together, that’s all that mattered. They were the best of friends.
But, at the age of 6, as they started school, Little Michael’s friend started acting differently toward him. He finally confided to Little Michael that his father told him he did not want him to play with Michael anymore.
Michael thought he did something wrong, something his friends’ parents disapproved of. His parents finally had to explain to him, it was nothing he did, it was because Michael’s skin was a different color.
Michael tried to understand what that meant.
His father would later take him to a shoe store to get new shoes. As he and his father sat down, a store clerk told them they had to move to the back of the store. Michael’s father explained the seats were fine, but the clerk insisted that they move.
Michael’s father became upset, and they left the store.
As they walked away, Michael’s father muttered, “I don’t care how long I have to live with this system, I will never accept it.”
Michael soon began to understand.
He began to understand why a white woman would slap him on his head for no reason, why he had to sit in the back of the bus. He experienced segregation firsthand, he experienced racism, he witnessed hatred. He saw a Black man being beaten by the Ku Klux Klan, he walked past spots where he was told men of his color were lynched.
When his father took Michael and the rest of the family to a trip overseas, his father learned about a monk, who was known as a reformer and a leader, a monk who would change the world, fighting for justice and equality.
So inspired by this monk, Michael’s father would change his name and that of 5-year-old Michael’s name, reflecting the monk’s name.
The monk’s name was Martin Luther.
Michael would thereafter be known as Martin Luther King, Jr.
~~~~~
From his own words:
“Let us not wallow in the valley of despair. I say to you, my friends, we have the difficulties of today and tomorrow.
I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed. We hold these truths to be self-evident that all men are created equal.
I have a dream that one day out in the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slaveowners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by their character.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; that one day right down in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be engulfed, every hill shall be exalted and every mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plains and the crooked places will be made straight and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together.
This is our hope. This is the faith that I will go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope.”
~ Martin Luther King Jr. (born Michael King Jr), January 15, 1929
The day might have come when I would have written about a young lady named Sandra Parks in one of my Wednesday ‘good people’ posts. She was only 13-years-old, but she had already shown that her heart was good. Two years ago, in sixth grade, young Sandra wrote an award-winning essay about gun violence and crime in her hometown of Milwaukee for the Martin Luther King, Jr. annual essay contest. In her essay, she called for more empathy and less negativity, and emphasized the importance of getting an education to make the world a better place.
The bullet that hit Sandra in the chest was not meant for her … it was a stray bullet from gunfire on the street in front of her home. Milwaukee Public Schools, in a statement mourning her loss, said Sandra is the 7th child attending a district school to die by homicide in 2018. Let that one sink in for a minute … SEVEN children have died by homicide in less than eleven months in a single school district!
And we have yet another dead child because an angry person fired a gun on the street in front of what should have been the safest place in the world for young Sandra Parks. Who knows what wonderful things Sandra Parks might have done with her life … if only she had been allowed to live. What a shame … what a damn shame! Please take a moment to read Sandra’s award-winning essay …
Sometimes, I sit back and I have to escape from what I see and hear every day. I put my headphones on and let the music take me away. I move to the beat and try to think about life and what everything means. When I do, I come to the same conclusion. . . we are in a state of chaos. In the city in which I live, I hear and see examples of chaos almost every day. Little children are victims of senseless gun violence. There is too much black on black crime. As an African-American, that makes me feel depressed. Many people have lost faith in America and its ability to be a living example of Dr. King’s dream!
Filosofa's Word 