Dr. King Holiday: It’s Personal
Today is Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. day in the United States. It happens in the dead of winter when I welcome even the smallest ray of light. For me, this holiday has a great deal of meaning. It’s the one holiday I take personally. Possibly because it celebrates a man who was doing his work when I was actually alive, and possibly it’s because the lessons we learn from Dr. King are as relevant today as they were when I was a child. It’s probably both. But I know it is also because of my personal experience as a child-pawn in all Dr. King was fighting against.
Have you forgotten?
So why am I talking about Dr. King and the civil rights movement in a health and well-being blog? Have you already forgotten about the Universal Body? Oh dear. It is so easy for us to prioritize the gross (physical) body over all others and to see the universal body as just a side-line. Well, either we are all connected or we’re not. And, if we ARE connected, then the health of the universal body is equal in importance to that of the others. And, damage to the universal touches on the gross body and the subtle body and vice versa. That’s why it’s important for all of us to take care of our physical bodies, spirits, minds, and souls—AND—why it is important for all of us to take care of our universal bodies. In short, it is difficult (impossible?) to live a happy and healthy life while ignoring the suffering of others. That is just the way it is and why I see Martin Luther King Jr. as a celebration of the Universal Body.
My bus kids story
I grew up Milwaukee, Wisconsin, an epicenter of Midwest urban racism during the 1950s and 60s (and possibly still today). Fortunately, I was raised by parents who supported the civil rights struggle and who taught me that we all were equal. As a young child I didn’t understand prejudice or racism, but I also didn’t have ANY interactions with black people at Garden Homes Elementary School. (We did have one girl of Japanese descent in our class, one Jewish kid in the first grade, and one Native American girl in class, as I recall). Then, sometime around maybe second or third grade the “bus kids” arrived on the scene. These “bus kids” were black children who arrived mysteriously every morning at our school in school buses.
We were told they were kids who went to school in buildings that needed to be repaired and they were at our school temporarily, until their schools were fixed. They had their own teachers, met in totally separate spaces (I’m not sure where…in the school basement?), ate at separate lunch times at unknown locations, and had separate recesses.
We, white kids, had very little interaction with the bus kids. However, to my shame, I recall I encountered a “bus girl” at the outside bubbler one time, when I decided she skipped in line. After being egged on by the class bully, I made a nasty and mean (unfortunately racist—fortunately not the “N” word) comment to her. I immediately regretted what I said. I knew it was wrong and I’ve felt bad, deep in my gut, about that comment ever since. You see, sometimes you just can’t undo your actions, you have to live with the results and ask for forgiveness. That was my ONLY direct interaction with a “bus kid” that I can recall and I am sad about it.
By the time I was in maybe fifth grade, a few black kids had actually moved to the neighborhood and were part of our actual class. By eighth grade about half our class was made up of black students and the bus kids had disappeared (at least from my young teen field of vision). And the world moved on.
Connecting the dots
It wasn’t until I was adult that I was able to connect the dots and understand that the “bus kids” were really child-victims of the city of Milwaukee’s policy of racial segregation of public schools. They were being shuttled around, even to the point of being driven back to their home schools for lunch, in an effort to hoodwink the world into believing the schools were racially integrated. (I strongly encourage you to check out these two above links to learn more).
Then, as efforts were finally made to allow black families into previously forbidden neighborhoods, white people fled these areas like wildfire.
Questioning the story
It wasn’t until my forties that I actually thought about and started questioning the “bus kids” story. And, it wasn’t until my fifties that I sat down and read the details of what was actually happening. It was all part of a REAL racist conspiracy. It wasn’t just in MY or anyone else’s head. It HAPPENED and I was a witness to and a participant in it.
Reflections
Today, on this Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. day, I am reflecting on my experience. What I am coming to understand is that history isn’t something that happens to other people at particularly significant times. History is us, now. And now, and now. It isn’t something we peer at through a mental window or watch on television. History is the sum total of the lives we have led up until now. And it doesn’t change or go away because we don’t like what happened, it is part of who we are, even if it is painful in our gut. Some might say it’s our Karma. I wonder if it isn’t the clearest reflection of the Universal Body we have available to us.
So, on this important day, as we stare out at troubled times I have intense gratitude for those who have lived and fought the United States (and world-wide) civil right struggles over the centuries and I honor those living and fighting the civil rights struggles now, hour by hour and day by day. I ask for forgiveness for hurts I have inflicted on individuals and the struggle and I ask for strength to be part a constructive force as we move our universal body forward. And I invite all of my readers to join me in celebration of a man, a movement, and a struggle that may yet save us all. Thank You Dr. King!
If you are interested in contributing to the universal body in a meaningful way, consider attending the Kindred Spirits gathering this Thursday Jan. 23rd, 2020 at St. Peder’s Evangelical Lutheran Church, 4600 E. 42nd St., Minneapolis, MN 55406, from 6:30 to 8:00 p.m. It is a “pay what you can” gathering.
In the January session we’ll explore awareness, the first step towards making any meaningful changes in our lives. Join us!
