What happened to tomorrow?

Today started off hopeful. We visited the Rosa Parks Museum, a victory. Next we walked to the Southern Poverty Law Center, where stories of people killed unjustly cover the walls, an unknown. Next we went to Selma, Alabama, a loss. To be in Selma felt like a step back in time. The streets were empty, the houses dilapidated, and the feeling hostile. During the tour, it was easy to see that though so much history happened there the feelings have not progressed. I saw the literal divide between black and white communities. The sides of town were physically separated by train tracks. The contrast between the confederate cemetery and the house, where so many great black leaders congregated, was starling. And it was hauntingly easy to see that Selma, Alabama has remained virtually unaffected by the Civil Rights Movement. 

In terms of emotion, I feel unsure and stuck. I feel that it’s necessary to do something, especially now, but I don’t know how. I live and breathe in a world where I’m constantly surrounded by people who don’t look like me. Probably close to 90 percent of my friends and acquaintances are white. There are times the things they say hurt me or are questionable, and when I say that’s the case, they shake it off as if it’s a joke. They don’t notice that racism still exists, and is thriving as is clear from the cemetery. So I’m left with the question, how do I get them to care about the digression that has occurred? How do I get my wealthy, white friends to feel the pain that I feel the hurt that is still felt nation wide regarding inequality and injustice? I honestly don’t know. 

-Kenya Boston