We Can All Be Activists, Even at 90
How my trip to Alabama changed me
I have been disheartened for months — by climate change, the political landscape, rising inequality, poverty, and the ongoing wars. The world situation had nearly paralyzed me. I was feeling helpless.
Despite my low spirits, I agreed to travel to Georgia and Alabama with my son, daughter-in-law, and grandson who were planning a tour of significant sites surrounding the Civil Rights Movement in the U.S..
Four days before my trip, I had another fall — this time during my dance class. A visit to the emergency room confirmed that I had no broken bones, and my doctor cleared me for travel. However, I began to experience negative self-talk: “Katharine, you’re too old to travel. You might fall again. You might get sick.” I knew enough to challenge these thoughts, responding with, “I’ll be fine. Don’t give up before it’s necessary.” Even so, it took courage to move forward with my plans.
The historic sites were powerful and inspiring. I was particularly moved by the 1955 bus boycott in Montgomery, Alabama and the march from Selma to Montgomery in 1965. And there were other highlights. We attended a moving service at Ebenezer Baptist Church in Atlanta, spent time at the Legacy Museum in Montgomery, a memorial to over 4000 people lynched in the USA, visited the Birmingham Jail where Martin Luther King, Jr. (MLK) wrote his famous letter, and explored an exhibition about the Tuskegee Airmen. Additionally, we listened to a number of MLK’s speeches as we drove around the countryside.
The Montgomery Bus Boycott, 1955
The bus boycott began with Rosa Parks, a story that is likely familiar to most of you. On December 1, 1955, Rosa was arrested for “disorderly conduct” after refusing to give up her seat to a white person on a bus. She was part of a coalition of activists seeking to challenge the Jim Crow laws that enforced bus segregation. Although she and others had been arrested several times before, this time, the group was well-prepared. They had a public relations representative ready to promote their story nationwide.
A group of local African American ministers formed the Montgomery Improvement Association. They used Rosa Parks’ arrest as an opportunity to organize a boycott of the segregated bus system and to challenge the legality of the laws supporting segregation in Alabama. Hundreds of Black workers stopped using the buses. Some carpooled, while many walked as much as five miles to and from work for months. They continued this for 381 days. The local authorities never relented, but the Supreme Court affirmed the lower court’s ruling that declared the segregation of public buses unconstitutional. As a result, the Montgomery bus system was desegregated on December 20th, 1956.
I realized that local protests alone weren’t enough to change the law and create the dramatic societal change they sought. It took the cooperation of the courts and collective, organized resistance to turn the tide.
What impressed me most about the Montgomery boycott was the incredible perseverance of so many ordinary people. Their discipline, organization, and determination were truly remarkable. Their grit inspired me to reconsider my own inaction, reminding me that it’s never too late to make a difference.
The March from Selma to Montgomery
The Selma march in 1965 aimed to draw national attention to racial discrimination in voting registration and voting rights in Alabama. There were three marches in total. The first took place on March 7, 1965. On that day, as the non-violent protesters reached the far end of the Edmund Pettus Bridge, they were met by police who clubbed and beat them. After several people were seriously injured, the peaceful protesters back. This day is now known as Bloody Sunday. The images and footage of police violence highlighted the brutality of the struggle.
Two days later, a second march, led by MLK and John Lewis, set out again. At the same time President Johnson urged MLK to postpone the march until he could arrange for federal protection for the participants. It was a difficult decision, but ultimately, MLK turned the march around again.
The third march left Selma nearly two weeks later, on March 21st. With ample time to organize, over 2,000 people arrived from across the country to join the 54-mile march. President Johnson had federalized the Alabama National Guard and deployed troops to protect the marchers. Additional security was provided by the FBI, federal marshals, and the U.S. Army. The march proceeded and arrived in Montgomery four days later. Tragically, one organizer, Viola Liuzzo, was shot and killed by three members of the Ku Klux Klan while she was driving from one city to another.
On August 6, 1965, five months after the march, President Johnson signed the Voting Rights Act into law. This legislation has proven to be one of the most effective ever passed.
As we arrived in Selma on a cool, sunny afternoon, I noticed that many of the buildings were in disrepair. The park near the Edmund Pettus Bridge also appeared neglected. It seemed that no one was taking care of the site. As we began to walk across the bridge, we fell silent. I felt deeply awed to be walking in the footsteps of so many individuals who had risked their lives for social justice. It felt like a pilgrimage. I was saddened that, more than fifty years after Selma, we are still fighting for voting rights for our people. This was a powerful reminder for me that the work is never done.
Now that I’m home, I’m still deeply moved by my experiences in Alabama. More importantly, I feel energized and ready go to work in any way I can. In practical terms, this has included attending two recent protests where I carried a sign that read “Reclaim Our Democracy.” It has been heartening to be surrounded by so many people who care about the direction our government is heading.
I have also written postcards to voters in Virginia to encourage them to participate in their June primary. I’ve written letters to my representatives about a recently proposed law regarding immigration detention that I strongly oppose.
We must remember our history and the courage of those who fought against injustice. My hometown, Concord, was instrumental in igniting the American Revolution. Today, we all have the power to be activists for democracy, justice, and the values we cherish.
Katharine Esty is a psychologist, a widow, a mother, a grandmother, and a writer. Her recent book, Eightysomethings — A Practical Guide to Letting Go, Aging Well, and Finding Unexpected Happiness, was published by Skyhorse.
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I am 71, my husband is 72. We are generally in good shape, but my husband has Alzheimer's. He reads the news every day and cares deeply about what's has happened to our country. We have decided to go to protest marches that are smaller and seem manageable. We think it's important for him to speak up and participate -- is there a more important purpose in our lifetimes?
This post was especially inspiring--your trip, your health, your activism, and your renewed faith and energy. Thank you for the reminders! Only 75 yet sometimes feel old.