High School History teacher (TFA RGV '14). University of Pennsylvania alum (College '13). Germanophile. Wearer of purple skinny jeans (whenever possible). Global transient. Current location: Houston, Texas
There are fewer women in the U.S. Congress today than in the assembly of Afghanistan
On the morning of September 4, 1957, fifteen-year-old Dorothy Counts set out on a harrowing path toward Harding High, where-as the first African American to attend the all-white school – she was greeted by a jeering swarm of boys who spat, threw trash, and yelled epithets at her as she entered the building.
Charlotte Observer photographer Don Sturkey captured the ugly incident on film, and in the days that followed, the searing image appeared not just in the local paper but in newspapers around the world.
People everywhere were transfixed by the girl in the photograph who stood tall, her five-foot-ten-inch frame towering nobly above the mob that trailed her. There, in black and white, was evidence of the brutality of racism, a sinister force that had led children to torment another child while adults stood by. While the images display a lot of evils: prejudice, ignorance, racism, sexism, inequality, it also captures true strength, determination, courage and inspiration.
Here she is, age 70, still absolutely elegant and poised.
she deserves to be reblogged.
she’s so inspirational
this makes me want to cry
i always love seeing posts like this because there are still white people that say “oh well extreme racism was so long ago! get over it!” while this woman still lives and breathes, and experienced it firsthand. you go, mama. you go.
I’m feeling nervous about my first day as a high school teacher next Monday, but seeing this cross my dash kind of put that fear in perspective. She’s the real MVP.
Michael Brown’s body was left in the street for hours after he was shot; as far as one can tell from the disjointed details released by the Ferguson and St. Louis County authorities, Wilson did not immediately call the shooting in or try to resuscitate Brown, and no E.M.T.s rushed him to the hospital.
A infuriating and incriminating piece of the story I had somehow missed.
I would be the first to say that I am still committed to militant, powerful, massive, non-violence as the most potent weapon in grappling with the problem from a direct action point of view. I’m absolutely convinced that a riot merely intensifies the fears of the white community while relieving the guilt. And I feel that we must always work with an effective, powerful weapon and method that brings about tangible results. But it is not enough for me to stand before you tonight and condemn riots. It would be morally irresponsible for me to do that without, at the same time, condemning the contingent, intolerable conditions that exist in our society. These conditions are the things that cause individuals to feel that they have no other alternative than to engage in violent rebellions to get attention. And I must say tonight that a riot is the language of the unheard. And what is it America has failed to hear? It has failed to hear that the plight of the negro poor has worsened over the last twelve or fifteen years. It has failed to hear that the promises of freedom and justice have not been met. And it has failed to hear that large segments of white society are more concerned about tranquility and the status quo than about justice and humanity.
Excerpt from "The Other America" speech by Martin Luther King, Jr.
an image of a man with a Molotov cocktail captures one man with a Molotov cocktail; but multiple images of a phalanx of men in riot gear, deploying tear gas, wielding machine guns, can only exist if disparate and complex social, economic and historical forces have conjoined to produce the events represented therein. The actions of a few angry people are asymmetrical to the existence of sophisticated weapons, the troops and the authority deploying them. These images don’t cancel each other out because it takes a lot more social energy and investment to produce a hostile police force terrorizing its citizens than it does to create a handful of violent protestors co-opting peaceful assembly.
Who built the seven gates of Thebes? The books are filled with names of kings. Was it the kings who hauled the craggy blocks of stone? And Babylon, so many times destroyed. Who built the city up each time? In which of Lima’s houses, That city glittering with gold, lived those who built it? In the evening when the Chinese wall was finished Where did the masons go? Imperial Rome Is full of arcs of triumph. Who reared them up? Over whom Did the Caesars triumph? Byzantium lives in song. Were all her dwellings palaces? And even in Atlantis of the legend The night the seas rushed in, The drowning men still bellowed for their slaves.
Young Alexander conquered India. He alone? Caesar beat the Gauls. Was there not even a cook in his army? Phillip of Spain wept as his fleet was sunk and destroyed. Were there no other tears? Frederick the Great triumphed in the Seven Years War. Who triumphed with him?
Each page a victory At whose expense the victory ball? Every ten years a great man, Who paid the piper? So many particulars. So many questions.