New Museum Reminds Us to Never Give Up.
This morning I'm listening to the groundbreaking ceremony for the New National Museum of African American History and Culture. President and Michelle Obama are there as is former First Lady Laura Bush. Congressman John Lewis, the only remaining of the so-called ""Big Six" of the Civil Rights movement who as a young man (just 23 at the time) spoke on the steps of the Lincoln Monument as part of the historic March on Washington which he helped plan, was also there and spoke just a few minutes ago.
The event and comments made so far bring three things to mind:
1) One of the speakers this morning suggested that this museum marks the progress of a people who had fought for social and legal racial equality for 400 years. I cannot imagine it. 400 years is a long time! Only the persistence, goodness and incredible patience of committed people from one generation to the next and God's grace could have brought it about. It is one of the many miracles that has blessed our nation that even during the Civil War there was no significant slave uprising. It speaks volumes, as they say, for the goodness of a persecuted people.
2) The museum is not just about the fight for freedom and equality, but a celebration of all the contributions that African Americans and their influence has brought to our country. It seems obvious to me that the US is a much greater, culturally rich and thoughtful nation because of African American contributions.
3) Opening this museum at the Smithsonian took me back to the early 1960s and a personal experience at what I believe even then was a Smithsonian institution: the National Zoo. I would guess that I was 8 years old, give or take a year or two. A very kind, older woman who lived in our community had grand kids visiting from out of state and had invited us to join them for a trip to the zoo. The only thing I remember of the day, which I'm sure was otherwise fun, was overhearing a statement by this woman. She clearly was thirsty and her visiting daughter I suspect had encouraged her to get a drink from one of the numerous drinking fountains. I only heard the woman's response that she couldn't stand the thoughts of drinking from the same fountains as "they" had been drinking from. I may have misunderstood what "they" she was talking about–maybe she was disgusted by thoughts of drinking from the same fountain that we, by now sweaty, dirty kids, had been drinking from, and she probably would have been wise to take that position–but I don't think that ever would have entered her mind. Her comment has led me multiple times over many years to wonder why "kind" people can engender in their hearts such hate and disgust. Surely it's at times nurtured by society and the world around us, but there must be a seed for it somewhere in our hearts: Is it fear? Pride? Jealousy? Animal instinct to protect our own regardless of the consequences to others' "own?"
Our great challenge continues to be our individual battle to root out all that leads to hatred in our our own hearts. It requires our continued best efforts and, again, the grace of God. On our own, we could never succeed, not in 50, 150 or 400 years.
