Connect with us

National

About 100 Set Out to Retrace Selma-to-Montgomery March

Published

on

People cross Edmund Pettus Bridge marching towards Montgomery, Monday, March 9, 2015, in Selma, Ala.to mark the 50th anniversary of "Bloody Sunday," a civil rights march in which protesters were beaten, trampled and tear-gassed by police at the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, Ala. (AP Photo/Butch Dill)

People cross Edmund Pettus Bridge marching towards Montgomery, Monday, March 9, 2015, in Selma, Ala.to mark the 50th anniversary of “Bloody Sunday,” a civil rights march in which protesters were beaten, trampled and tear-gassed by police at the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, Ala. (AP Photo/Butch Dill)

KIM CHANDLER, Associated Press

SELMA, Ala. (AP) — Dozens of marchers set out across Selma’s Edmund Pettus Bridge Monday with plans to walk to the Alabama Capitol, saying the voting rights won by blood in Selma 50 years ago are now under threat.

The marchers are recreating the Selma-to-Montgomery Voting Rights March of 1965. The 54-mile trek is recreated every five years, but organizers say this year is particularly important.

Marchers called for the restoration of the preclearance requirement of the Voting Rights Act. The U.S Supreme Court in 2013, in a case also arising out of Alabama, struck down the formula that determined which states had to get permission from the Justice Department before changing voting laws.

“The heart of it has been taken out,” Southern Christian Leadership Conference President Charles Steele, 68, said. Steele said about 50 people will try to make the full walk to Montgomery.

Here are some stories from the current march:

A NEW MOVEMENT

Bernard Lafayette, 74, was just 20-years-old when he joined the Freedom Riders to challenge segregation across the American South. He suffered three cracked ribs when he was beaten by a mob outside a bus station in Montgomery.

Selma was considered even more dangerous, he said.

Lafayette in 1962 volunteered to come to the city as a voter registration director with the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee

He was beaten by an unknown assailant in 1963, the same night Medgar Evers was murdered in Mississippi.

A black and white photo stored on the smartphone stashed in his jacket pocket shows him at the front of the march in 1965, alongside Andrew Young and other fresh-faced civil rights workers.

Lafayette smiled at the children, some as young as 11, walking ahead. That makes him optimistic about the future.

“Look at those young people up there. They are middle school, high school. We were the young people in our day. Now we see ourselves,” Lafayette said.

Behind him, young marchers sang a song with lyrics about Ferguson, Missouri, and Eric Garner — who died after being placed in a choke hold by a police officer in New York. ”

“That’s a new song. That’s how you can tell you’ve got a movement, when you’ve got new songs,” Lafayette said.

THEN AND NOW

John Rankin, 68, wearing an orange reflective vest and an “I love Jesus” button, walked past the charred and abandoned shells of homes on the now-closed Craig Air Force base on the outskirts of Selma.

The homes were turned into a low-rent housing development, but many are uninhabitable after being burned, vandalized or looted. The region remains swathed in poverty, he said, noting that the lock manufacturer where he worked as a lead man closed more than a decade ago.

“We have a long way to go. People need good jobs,” Rankin said.

Rankin was just a teen when he was cracked on the head by a club during Bloody Sunday.

“We were just expecting to go to jail we weren’t expecting to get beat up,” Rankin said.

Fifty years later, there is an African-American president and Jim Crow laws are long eradicated, but in some ways Selma is “not that much” different.

The schools are segregated again, he said, as white families pay for private school and the public schools are almost entirely black students or other minorities.

YOUNG MARCHER

Eleven-year-old Desiree Robertson carried an American flag helping lead the group of marchers down a rolling stretch of highway.

Does she think she’s up for the entire 54-mile walk? Well, yeah.

“I did it when I was 8. It was fun,” Robertson said.

Her uncles marched in 1965 and her grandmother is involved in the civil rights commemorations in Selma.

Robertson said she is missing school for the march, but learning history.

Copyright 2015 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.

Continue Reading
Click to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Activism

Oakland Post: Week of November 13 – 19, 2024

The printed Weekly Edition of the Oakland Post: Week of November 13 – 19, 2024

Published

on

To enlarge your view of this issue, use the slider, magnifying glass icon or full page icon in the lower right corner of the browser window.

Continue Reading

Activism

Oakland Post: Week of November 6 – 12, 2024

The printed Weekly Edition of the Oakland Post: Week of November 6 – 12, 2024

Published

on

To enlarge your view of this issue, use the slider, magnifying glass icon or full page icon in the lower right corner of the browser window.

Continue Reading

#NNPA BlackPress

OP-ED: The Illusion of Allyship. White Women, Your Yard Signs Mean Nothing to Me

NNPA NEWSWIRE – “The blue bracelets are something White women are wearing so others can see that they didn’t vote for Trump,” says Liberal Lisa from Oklahoma on X. Chile, bye. These bracelets are hollow symbols, empty gestures that mean nothing to me. An accessory to claim distance from Trump’s legacy is superficial comfort, while the choice to not stand with us in the voting booth is far more profound.

Published

on

Political yard signs can symbolize intentions and allegiance. But this year, they’ve also symbolized betrayal. During this general election, Black women were led to believe that more White women would stand with us. Exit polls, however, told a different story. Despite overwhelming displays of support, more White women still chose to vote for the convicted felon, reality TV star, and rapist. White women answered the call but left us hanging at the polls.

A Familiar Disappointment

I live in DeKalb County, Georgia, and the abundance of Harris-Walz yard signs could’ve fooled me. But I’ve seen this before, back when Stacey Abrams ran for governor. White women showed up, put up signs, attended rallies, knocked on doors, and phone-banked. Yet, when it came time to vote, they let us down—not once but twice. I’ve been here for over 15 years, and if there’s one thing I know, it’s that political signs are symbols without weight.

In every election, I’ve talked with White women. Most aren’t the primary earners in their families and vote along party lines, aligning with the preferences of their fathers and husbands. These conversations reveal a reluctance to break from tradition, even when their votes affect women and certainly when their votes impact the lives of people who look like me.

The Illusion of Solidarity—Symbols Are Not Enough

On social media, I’m seeing White women posting pictures of blue bracelets to “prove” they didn’t vote for Trump. “The blue bracelets are something White women are wearing so others can see that they didn’t vote for Trump,” says Liberal Lisa from Oklahoma on X. Chile, bye. These bracelets are hollow symbols, empty gestures that mean nothing to me. An accessory to claim distance from Trump’s legacy is superficial comfort, while the choice to not stand with us in the voting booth is far more profound.

I’ve seen Black Lives Matter signs and black squares posted on Instagram to “prove” support for Black people, but we now know that was a lie, too. Will those same people who claimed Black lives mattered now take down their Harris-Walz signs and show their true selves?

Navigating these truths is a daily struggle for me—professionally and socially. White women often misuse their privilege, supporting us only when it’s convenient. Seeing overqualified Black women sabotaged or abandoned by White women at critical moments is a constant emotional challenge. It’s exhausting to live with this reality, especially when solidarity seems like something they pick up and discard at will.

One clever campaign ad from Harris-Walz that spoke directly to White women. “Your Vote, Your Choice” emphasized that their vote was private—independent of their household situation. Another was from Olivia Howell Dreizen, the “Vote Without Fear” campaign, which empowered women to consider the greater impact of their choices. But it seems many still couldn’t choose the roadmap to freedom—even when it was handed to them.

A Call for Action Beyond Words

White women, I want to believe you care, but actions speak louder than yard signs, bracelets, or Instagram posts. Show up in our communities, advocate in your workplaces, and stand up to dismantle the structures that uphold white supremacy. Only through real action will we know where you stand.

If you choose not to act, we see you—and we know exactly where you stand. Good luck these next four years.

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of BlackPressUSA.com or the National Newspaper Publishers Association.

 

 

Continue Reading

Subscribe to receive news and updates from the Oakland Post

* indicates required

CHECK OUT THE LATEST ISSUE OF THE OAKLAND POST

ADVERTISEMENT

WORK FROM HOME

Home-based business with potential monthly income of $10K+ per month. A proven training system and website provided to maximize business effectiveness. Perfect job to earn side and primary income. Contact Lynne for more details: Lynne4npusa@gmail.com 800-334-0540

Facebook

Trending

Copyright ©2021 Post News Group, Inc. All Rights Reserved.