My visit to Selma felt like a Matrix moment. Do I take the red pill or the blue one? The choice wasn’t just about learning history, it was about waking up to a deeper truth. I thought of Dr. King’s final book, Where Do We Go From Here: Chaos or Community? The title alone echoed through my heart as I stood on sacred ground.
This wasn’t just someone else’s story. It became our story when I listened to Dr. Lynda Blackmon Lowery and Ms. Annie Pearl Avery. These two living legends didn’t just speak to the past, they called out to the present, especially to the young. Though I no longer count myself among the young, I left asking: How do I hold this sacred experience? And where do I share it?
Between the voices of these powerful women was the iconic walk across the Edmund Pettus Bridge. With each step, I felt the weight of history pressing gently but firmly into my heart. I was moved to tears more than once. That day asked me, again and again: Where do I go from here?
The world is not the same as it was in the 1960’s, but sometimes it feels like the hard-won ground is slipping from our fingers. Dr. King believed that the civil rights movement had opened the door for a new fight: the battle against global oppression and poverty. But hatred and bigotry don’t surrender easily. Not then, not now.
This experience made one thing painfully clear: we cannot rest on our laurels. We must teach our children what was fought for and what was won. We must give them space in our communities, not just to be loved, but to learn how to love, by giving back. Dr. Lowery told young people to “Get it together!” As an educator, I take that as a challenge and a call. But our youth can’t get it together without the wisdom and guidance of those who came before. We must be accessible. We must be present.
As I reflect on this trip, I will hold this experience sacred by sharing it with my children, my grandchildren, and my students. This trip showed me how vital it is to make these experiences available to the next generation. I wish I had brought students with me. I wish I could share/gift this time to them. I wish I were in conversation with them right now. I want to dream with them, hope with them, and believe with them that they are the change our world needs.
This cannot be my last trip.
At the end of a school year, I usually look forward to my time away from school. But this week of personal growth and learning has stirred something deeper. I feel a new sense of responsibility: I must bring students with me next time. I must do my part to pass on the lessons of love and peace that I encountered here.
We are losing many of our heroes to age. We must take up their mantle. We must step into our rightful place in the ongoing struggle. I am so deeply grateful to be here, now. This moment is more than a memory. It’s a turning point.