A New Era of Hope

It has been almost two weeks since I last wrote, and so much has happened during that time. I have composed several posts in my head, but just didn't have time to sit down and type them in. Some have to do with my healing journey, and some are just things that are happening in my life. I'd like to start with my thoughts and feelings about our new president!

A Teary-Eyed Day!

'Tis a gift to be simple, 'tis a gift to be free,
'Tis a gift to come down where we ought to be;
And when we find ourselves in the place just right,
It will be in the valley of love and delight.

When true simplicity is gained,
To bow and to bend we shan't be ashamed.
To turn, to turn, it will be out delight,
Til by turning and turning we come round right.

What a joy it was to hear this old Shaker hymn played by the quartet, braving the nippy breeze at the Presidential Inauguration! This particular piece of music means a lot to me. My singing partner Dale and I used to perform it in 1968. Later, in 1996, I sang it over and over to my unborn baby to get her to turn in the womb so she could "come round right." (It worked!)

My eyes teared up many times before, during, and after the Inauguration. I noticed that my tears joined the other tears of the millions of people in the crowd in Washington D.C., and of the millions of people across our land. Not only have we elected a man who I feel has the utmost integrity and love for humankind, but he is a man of color!

I was in elementary school in the 1950's, and I remember when our school in Joplin, MO was integrated. I remember watching on our black and white TV the news of little black children bravely going to school, and being taunted by horrible words and violent threats. Although I was young, I knew how courageous those children were.

My parents had always taught us that all humans were created equal, and the color of one's skin had nothing to to with one's value as a human being. My father owned an automotive parts store in Joplin, and he would frequently go on coffee breaks to a little coffee shop across the street from his store. One day, a black man came in and sat down to get some coffee and a donut. The owner of the coffee shop told him he couldn't sit there; he would give him his coffee and donut to go. My father immediately got up, leaving his food at the counter, and he said, "If you won't serve this man at the counter, then you will not serve me either. I will never be back." He never returned.

My older sister Mary got a job as a waitress at a little cafe on Main Street. She was so excited; it was her very first job. She practiced at home carrying armloads of plates, carefully balancing them so she could learn to bring the food out to her customers. The rest of the family went on a vacation to Colorado, leaving Mary in Joplin so she could work. When we returned home, we were shocked to find that Mary had been fired after only a few days on the job. Why? A black customer had come in and sat down, and she served him. The manager told her to give the customer his food in a sack, and she refused.

When I met Dale, my singing partner, we hit it off immediately. We started singing together at a party we both happened to be at, and we thrilled to the beautiful harmonies we were able to make together. It was like we were on the same wave length. Working out pieces to perform together was so easy! One thing led to another, and soon we were dating as well as singing together. Dale was a very handsome, tall, slender black man with a beautiful voice. The movie "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner" about a bi-racial couple came out about that time, and we relished that we mirrored the plot of the movie somewhat as I took Dale home to meet my parents. I knew that my parents would welcome him with open arms, and they did. Some of my other relatives would not. I had heard some of the racial jokes and slurs coming from some of my aunts and uncles and cousins. But I didn't let any of their comments (or potential comments) bother me. I loved Dale. We made beautiful music together. That was all that mattered. Dale's family was likewise gracious in welcoming me.

Our break-up came not because of racial issues, but other little things that come up when a couple becomes close. Dale decided he wanted to date some other women. While he was trying out some other relationships, I met a man and fell head-over-heels in love with him. The new man became my husband. During the eleven months that I dated Dale, I came to feel a deep committment to the Civil Rights Movement. Dale had trouble finding apartments because of his color. In Parsons, Kansas, where he was completing an internship as a music therapist, he had to bribe the landlady by offering her double the amount she usually got for the apartment! A nosy neighbor noticed Dale coming and going from my apartment in Pittsburg, and complained to my landlady, thinking she had rented to a black man. I had to move.

So, last Tuesday, when our country accepted an African-American as President, I cried! I cried for all the people like my father and sister who stood up for what was right. I cried for all the people who refused to step to the back of the bus, and who courageously went to school despite the taunts and danger. I cried for people like Dale who had to pay twice the going rate for an apartment just because of the color of his skin. I cried for the innocent people who lost their lives, like the four little girls in the church in Burmingham, Alabama, and Medgar Evers, and Martin Luther King. I know that the fight for true civil rights is not over; there are still a lot of angry people who still don't "get it," that we are all children of God, and as children of God, we are all brothers and sisters. But when I saw the millions of people in Washington with tears streaming down their faces, smiling and waving, I knew that the tide has turned.

One song that I sang many times over the years is "We Shall Overcome." and we can now sing, "We Have Overcome."