Celebrating the Man As Well As His Cause

A guest post from a reader, Debra.

Names matter. They do. My life experience has taught me this. Names are important as they are references — signs – that direct us to meaning, and often to a particular point in time – in history. In this case, the history of the Civil Rights Movement in America, and the name of Martin Luther King, Jr.

When I lived in the South, I witnessed the story and history of Martin Luther King, Jr. first hand. As a student at UNC-Chapel Hill, I was surrounded with civil rights history. It was in nearby Greensboro that the famous sit-ins took place. Actions so important, that the very counter and stools that those famous young black men sat at/on are on permanent exhibition in the Smithsonian Museum. I visited Birmingham, Atlanta, and other cities filled with music, art, churches, statues and markers that bore witness to MLK. I stood in the churches that were targeted and burned; their members terrorized and even murdered. I sat in tightly packed pews on MLK Day, side-by-side with people across class, race, gender and political affiliation; singing songs of freedom, love and hope.

These incredible experiences taught me a crucial lesson; it’s easier to be cognizant of a historical figure’s significance when surrounded by physical landmarks and memorials that teach, remind, and bear constant witness.

Three years ago I moved to the Intermountain West, with my husband and two children, after decades of living in other regions of the US. In a place like Idaho it is more difficult to find these landmarks, these crucial reminders. I remember the day that my two children started their first school year as Idahoans. They returned home with their school calendars and I noticed that Martin Luther King Day was instead called Human Rights Day. Human Rights Day? This saddened me. It felt wrong. And the longer I thought about it the more I felt it was not just a matter of semantics. I knew from personal experience how MLK changed the landscape of our country. Yes, even in Idaho. It was MLK who issued a clarion call to all members of our nation to champion civil rights. He gave the movement tools with which to achieve its goals. He delivered speeches that will forever ring true in the causes of human nobility, civility, and inalienable rights.

To exclude the name of MLK from the day that memorializes his accomplishments is a mistake. Names matter. It means something that his name is attached to the third Monday in January each year.

So. . . if my kids weren’t going to have the same ability as I to visit famous civil rights landmarks, and if the very public holiday that celebrated them was not going to name MLK as its champion, then I knew I would have be more creative in my approach. I did not want civil rights to be an abstract idea to my kids and I became determined to find a way for Martin Luther King, Jr. and his message to be something tangible.

This year I discovered that I wasn’t alone in these sentiments. I began to meet other mothers who had the same concerns and desires for their children. I became acquainted with some regulars at the Feminist Mormon Housewives blog, and with these fantastic like-minded women, we decided that it was up to us to create a Martin Luther King Day celebration of which we could be proud.

On Monday morning, January 17th , we gathered – kids, moms, dads, friends – and to the sound of gospel music, we prepared to participate in a Memorial March being held at the Idaho State Capitol. We made signs, drew pictures, and expressed our admiration for a great American leader. The kids choose MLK quotes that meant the most to them and the results were amazing. The love poured out of them – each kid with their own unique perspective. I think we all learned a little more about the contents of our children’s hearts that morning. They drew hearts, families, peace  signs, and there were even puppies (proclaiming their admiration and appreciation of Dr. King).

We took these messages of love and hope to the Memorial March. We pushed strollers and held hands as we walked with our families and our friends. We smiled at people we had never met. We talked to strangers. In fact, for a couple of hours, it seemed we weren’t strangers at all. We all basked in the glow of the late winter’s sun. There was singing, chanting, laughing, and crying. Car horns honked. People waved. The children cheered.

We proceeded to the Capitol, where we went inside and the kids stared up at the beautiful, spacious, newly renovated building. We explained to them that the building belongs to the people of Idaho. It is the people’s building. The children asked great questions. They listened as only children can – with big, wide eyes and open minds. We listened to speakers and to people passing out literature, explaining their causes that were inspired by MLK.

And finally, that evening we gathered together, where we laid out a family-style spread of soul food dishes in my home. Some of dishes were personal favorites of Dr. King’s, most were Southern fare, and all were made with love and care. Pulled pork barbecue, southern style vegetables, hoecakes, and homemade chocolate cake. The smell of delicious food filled the house, as did the sound of laughter and good times. Martin Luther King’s photo sat on the fireplace mantle, and a candle was lit. It felt as if Dr. King and his family might come in the door at any moment and join us. And if he did, we knew that our kids would recognize him, know him and call him by name. And in that, I rejoiced.

Suddenly, it made no difference how many miles, or how much geography separated the cradle of the Civil Rights Movement and our Rocky Mountain home. And that made all the difference in the world.