The only authentic African American of whom I know, is the son of an African man and an American woman. While he is lumped in with all the rest of us members of the darker nation (if this term is unfamiliar to you, I commend you to Stephen Carter's The Emperor of Ocean Park), the timing of Barack Obama's birth excluded him from the experiences of folks like John Lewis.
The problem is that John Lewis types exist. The JLs of this country remind us of a time when folks were less accepting, less loving. So many think they should take the superficial freedoms they have won and go away quietly, sink into a Lazyboy, channel surf and sip beer, watching endless hours of television -- guys chasing funny-shaped balls in open fields -- taunting, maiming, crippling, killing each other while audiences of sufficient number to populate small towns pay much too much money for the thrill of it all, and even more money for unhealthy food and drink -- until they die.
There are folks who think we should not remember the days when Americans of the darker nation, many times joined by Americans of the paler nation, subjected their bodies to billy clubs, well-trained dogs, fire hoses, jail cells smaller than my bathroom, nooses, and even the grave, to achieve what most Americans take for granted now. And while the notorious acts of that era are no longer commonplace, let us not be disillusioned. In many ways there is still a lack of acceptance. There is still a lack of love. We see it and hear it all the time.
Yes, the "N" word may be socially unacceptable, politically incorrect, or whatever. But what about EXOTIC -- UNQUALIFIED -- OFF WITH HIS HEAD -- HE'S AN ARAB -- KILL HIM. These words and phrases, no doubt uttered with venom and spittle spraying those nearby, reflect hatred that can be felt even through television. I know, because I felt them. And I felt the mob-type murmurings that followed -- felt them in my knotted gut. And then I remembered what I saw on television decades ago. Bodies plastered against buildings by the force of water from a fire hose. Dogs barking and biting at flailing limbs. Charred bodies, now faceless, hanging from trees that on any other day might be refuge from the sun. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., lying in a pool of his own blood on a balcony of the Lorraine Motel. These images, once viewed by this writer, who knows that but for the grace of God, could have been a subject of the photographer rather than a beneficiary of suffering, cannot be forgotten.
A German-born Jewish American (too many labels for me, but necessary to make my point) works at a place I visit often. During our last encounter I could tell that he was not having a good day. It turns out that for the first time, he saw on television the night before, footage from the civil rights struggle of the 60s. He expressed shock, dismay and disgust, having had no idea of what happened during that time, and confessed that it was nothing that he was exposed to in school; and because those events happened during his lifetime, they were in some ways even worse for him than the Holocaust. We both agreed that neither of those events should be forgotten. Their lessons are far too important for either to be glossed over. If our kids can watch the gore and violence produced by television and movies, and can play video games fraught with purposeless violence, why must they be shielded from the reality of the 60s?
So I ask you, does John Lewis not have a right to remind us of the dangers of inflammatory speech? Is it an okay thing for a speaker to evoke such language, but not okay to speak of the dangers of one doing so? No. Should we forget the struggles and sacrifices of the 60s? No. Should the JLs of the world be required to act as if their experiences are meaningless and forgotten? No. Should we all make sure those events are not repeated, even if it means dredging them up again to remind us? What do you say? I say YES, and that is my final answer.
Rather than renounce John Lewis, we should thank him for reminding us of the oppressive barbarism of the 60s and those who fought to overcome it.
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