Saturday November 8, 2008
Posted by David Rothenberg on Friday, November 7, 2008
I have often spoken about my first involvement in a civil rights demonstration. It was in June of 1952. Harry Truman was president and Dwight Eisenhower and Adlai Stevenson would become the candidates for the Republican and Democratic parties, respectively.
It was between my freshman and sophomore years at the University of Denver and I was invited to participate in a summer-long student program in Washington, D.C. There were about two dozen other students from around the county in our group. The program was coordinated by the Students for Democratic Action, an affiliate of the ADA – Americans for Democratic Action – a liberal political group that, then, boasted such notables as Mrs. Roosevelt, union leader Walter Reuther and Senator Hubert Humphrey.
Because we were an integrated group, we were housed at the Barksdale rooming house in the Negro section of our nation’s capital, which in 1952 was a segregated city, clinging to its traditional southern heritage.
We all found day jobs, mostly in government…mine was at the D.C. library…and in the evenings guest speakers could come to the Barksdale…political and social activists, including Ted Sorenson, brother of one of our students Ruth Sorenson of the University of Nebraska. Ted was an aide to a young congressman named John F. Kennedy. Senator Humphrey and many others spent evenings with us, including a civil rights organizer from CORE named George Houser. He told us about “sit-ins” where black and white students challenged segregated coffee shops. He invited us to participate and ran training sessions on passive resistance. On Sundays, we would gather with other young people and take up all the stools at the People’s Drug Store near Dupont Circle. We would fill up all the stools at the coffee shop, sitting white-black, white-black. When the waitress asked for my order, I had been instructed to say “I would like a cup of coffee,” and then pointing to the black student at my side would say “And my friend would also like one.” We would be refused because people of color could only order out, not sit at the counter.
On that first Sunday, I can still recall, vividly, what happened. As we sat there, and folks entered the store most having just left church, I was tapped on my shoulder. I turned around and saw a woman who was about the age I am today. Her face was crunched with hate and rage and she shouted at me “N--ger lover” and spat in my face. As I was trained, I sat still, with arms folded and felt her saliva slowly run down my cheek…aware of people watching me for a reaction. The young black man at my side took my arm and said to me “This is your medal of honor.”
I tell that story whenever the opportunity is right, because it is important to me to remember where my country has come from. It is not my intention to equate my one-time humiliation with the day-in, day-out indignation, exclusion and threats faced by African-Americans. I am merely playing testimony as a witness to our shameful past.
So as I watched Barack Obama accept the American people’s endorsement for him to be the next President of the United States, I couldn’t stop the tears because I felt my country had come of age and I had a renewed sense of pride and love and appreciation for the struggle which got us here…the years of marches and protests and meetings, and hopes and dreams of so many people.
During this year’s election, those of us who supported the Obama candidacy heard our love of country…our patriotism challenged…as if my desire to see us achieve greatness could be defined by a lapel pin or listening to Kate Smith sing “God Bless America” every 7th inning at Yankee Stadium.
When President-elect Obama spoke on Tuesday night, at midnight EST, I heard a man who inspired and motivated me. We have lived in a moral vacuum for eight years and it took some adjustment to realize that the man who would be president could speak clearly and forcefully. In truth, the last time a president challenged us was when John Kennedy started the Peace Corps and said “Ask not what your country can do for you…ask what you can do for your country.” President-elect Obama told us he cannot do it alone. I suspect that he has plans for us and he will put the challenge to the American people to participate in finding solutions.
My country…my America is like Rip Van Winkle. We have been aroused from a long sleep and we are ready to reveal our potential. President-elect Obama has told the world that the American people have widened the pool of talent, and the U.S. is ready to assume, once again, its role as the leader of the free world.
The American people picked the best man and race was not a barrier.
I’m sure that the old woman who spit in my face in 1952 is long since gone, and I have no idea where that young man who held my arm is today. But we all participated in a small scene cemented in my memory. It was the start of a movement that became Martin Luther King’s legacy…started when Rosa Parks refused to move on a bus in Montgomery, Alabama. Dr. King and Mrs. Parks were silent heroes in Tuesday night’s celebration but so many people struggled and some died for this great day.
We made history and we are a better people for it.
I await the Obama presidency with joy, excitement and hope.
I’m David Rothenberg…out on a limb.
It was between my freshman and sophomore years at the University of Denver and I was invited to participate in a summer-long student program in Washington, D.C. There were about two dozen other students from around the county in our group. The program was coordinated by the Students for Democratic Action, an affiliate of the ADA – Americans for Democratic Action – a liberal political group that, then, boasted such notables as Mrs. Roosevelt, union leader Walter Reuther and Senator Hubert Humphrey.
Because we were an integrated group, we were housed at the Barksdale rooming house in the Negro section of our nation’s capital, which in 1952 was a segregated city, clinging to its traditional southern heritage.
We all found day jobs, mostly in government…mine was at the D.C. library…and in the evenings guest speakers could come to the Barksdale…political and social activists, including Ted Sorenson, brother of one of our students Ruth Sorenson of the University of Nebraska. Ted was an aide to a young congressman named John F. Kennedy. Senator Humphrey and many others spent evenings with us, including a civil rights organizer from CORE named George Houser. He told us about “sit-ins” where black and white students challenged segregated coffee shops. He invited us to participate and ran training sessions on passive resistance. On Sundays, we would gather with other young people and take up all the stools at the People’s Drug Store near Dupont Circle. We would fill up all the stools at the coffee shop, sitting white-black, white-black. When the waitress asked for my order, I had been instructed to say “I would like a cup of coffee,” and then pointing to the black student at my side would say “And my friend would also like one.” We would be refused because people of color could only order out, not sit at the counter.
On that first Sunday, I can still recall, vividly, what happened. As we sat there, and folks entered the store most having just left church, I was tapped on my shoulder. I turned around and saw a woman who was about the age I am today. Her face was crunched with hate and rage and she shouted at me “N--ger lover” and spat in my face. As I was trained, I sat still, with arms folded and felt her saliva slowly run down my cheek…aware of people watching me for a reaction. The young black man at my side took my arm and said to me “This is your medal of honor.”
I tell that story whenever the opportunity is right, because it is important to me to remember where my country has come from. It is not my intention to equate my one-time humiliation with the day-in, day-out indignation, exclusion and threats faced by African-Americans. I am merely playing testimony as a witness to our shameful past.
So as I watched Barack Obama accept the American people’s endorsement for him to be the next President of the United States, I couldn’t stop the tears because I felt my country had come of age and I had a renewed sense of pride and love and appreciation for the struggle which got us here…the years of marches and protests and meetings, and hopes and dreams of so many people.
During this year’s election, those of us who supported the Obama candidacy heard our love of country…our patriotism challenged…as if my desire to see us achieve greatness could be defined by a lapel pin or listening to Kate Smith sing “God Bless America” every 7th inning at Yankee Stadium.
When President-elect Obama spoke on Tuesday night, at midnight EST, I heard a man who inspired and motivated me. We have lived in a moral vacuum for eight years and it took some adjustment to realize that the man who would be president could speak clearly and forcefully. In truth, the last time a president challenged us was when John Kennedy started the Peace Corps and said “Ask not what your country can do for you…ask what you can do for your country.” President-elect Obama told us he cannot do it alone. I suspect that he has plans for us and he will put the challenge to the American people to participate in finding solutions.
My country…my America is like Rip Van Winkle. We have been aroused from a long sleep and we are ready to reveal our potential. President-elect Obama has told the world that the American people have widened the pool of talent, and the U.S. is ready to assume, once again, its role as the leader of the free world.
The American people picked the best man and race was not a barrier.
I’m sure that the old woman who spit in my face in 1952 is long since gone, and I have no idea where that young man who held my arm is today. But we all participated in a small scene cemented in my memory. It was the start of a movement that became Martin Luther King’s legacy…started when Rosa Parks refused to move on a bus in Montgomery, Alabama. Dr. King and Mrs. Parks were silent heroes in Tuesday night’s celebration but so many people struggled and some died for this great day.
We made history and we are a better people for it.
I await the Obama presidency with joy, excitement and hope.
I’m David Rothenberg…out on a limb.
null
