My reflections of the Montgomery journey. I/we went on Saturday. Our entry was 1:30pm. The museum was informative. For me how long this has been going on. For me like it was something that so called white people were entitled to do. Then the children that are locked up for life. These are children. Who does that to children and why? Museum left me without any and I mean no good feelings about so called white people. So the memorial wasn’t t much better. Walked through the first garden trying to prepare myself for what I was sure was going to effect me in some way. There is no way to prepare for this. My judgement. The first thing that called me in my soul were the statues of the chained, captured people. Men women and children. I had to touch the baby. Just had to stroke it to show some kind of love. I found myself touching all of them.
Slowly walking to next exhibit. Sat and read the writing on the wall. Digested those words. Went up hill to the hanging columns. So many unknown. I had to touch all the unknowns to let them feel I knew them. When they got out of my reach I had to stop looking. Too much like watching a hanging. I can’t for the life of me see how any human got enjoyment from looking up at another human hanging...who does that? And got some kind of enjoyment, thrill, happiness from such an event. You saw this by the smiles on their faces. Who does this? Then to the water wall. “I” named it the wall of tears. That’s how I felt. Full of sadness and tears. I touched that wall also. I touched the case with the dirt for the unknown.
Next the pillars waiting to get claimed by those counties guilty of this hanging process. Rested my soul in the Rosa park rest area. Then the statues of the three women that partook in the bus boycott. Met the artist who happened to be related to two of the pieces. So she knew their story. Gave her a hug and thanked her for sharing her story. Then down the hill to the one I named “DON’T SHOOT MY HANDS ARE UP” ! That’s not what the artist named it. I think he called it Rise Up. For me this was a powerful exhibit. A must see for all who still participate in this abuse.
Photo credit: Iris Love-Scott