a slightly preachy wednesday...

It's the 55th anniversary of the day Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat today...  


Doesn't that sentence sound so ridiculous? Just 55 years ago...the current age of my Dad, who still seems so young to me...we told people where they could sit on a bus solely based on the color of their skin. And when they didn't oblige, we arrested them.  Or beat them.  Or even killed them.  I try to picture myself hoping on the 30 Muni in San Francisco (not so lovingly nicknamed 'the dirty 30'), headed to work and minding my own business (probably making music videos in my head to my iPod playlist)....and then being told to suddenly move because someone of another race (a perceived 'superior' race) wants my seat.  Wait...what? I don't even know what I'd do.  I can't imagine how that would make a person feel. It baffles me to the point of almost having to laugh while SMH (shakin ma head).  That's how ridiculous it sounds.

I took an African American history/literature class at Penn State as a senior that, while I admittedly signed up for it just to fulfill a final humanities credit, ended up becoming one of my favorite courses in college.  My professor, whose name I'm ashamed to say has completely slipped my mind (but I will be furiously googling for in the next hour), stood in front of the 100+ person class one October morning and visibly fought back tears.  "I'm sorry if I seem out of sorts today, " he said, "I lost someone very close to me and to be honest, I'm having difficulties focusing." He paused to collect himself, then continued with "I'm sure all of you know who Rosa Parks is and what her single act of courage did to spark a great movement 50 years ago.  A very, very important movement.  While I recognize the historical icon she has become because of this great act...while I am so grateful for it...she was actually much more to me, personally.  You see, Rosa Parks was my mentor.  Not metaphorically speaking, but physically she has been my mentor all my life.  She has been like a grandmother to me since I was a boy in Detroit.  And she died today, young people {he liked referring to us as young people}. She died today and I am very, very sad." 

You hear so much about these every day activists in terms of being historical icons that sometimes I think it's easy to forget they weren't all that different from you and me. They had children and held jobs.  They loved and learned and lived the ups and downs of human existence.  And they mentored troubled youths in Detroit, who later went on to be wonderful professors of history and literature at, in my humble Nittany Lion opinion, a great University.  This is important for me personally to remember.

So keeping this anniversary in mind I have to take a step back for a moment to hop up onto my tiny soapbox to ask; when, as a nation, will we collectively realize that what we're doing to the LGBT community in terms of a lack of equal rights is truly no different than bus-dividing segregation?   That the way we are so terribly unkind to each other because of such remedial differences in who we are, what we look like or who we love is no different than telling a person where they can sit on a public mode of transportation?  This is the part I struggle with the most; the unkindness.  You wanna have different beliefs than me? No worries, I'm all about learning and growing and challenging one another.  I'm not so naiive as to think I will hold the same world views as every person I meet in my life time.  But why the unkindness?  Why disregard the fact that in the end, we're not actually all that different.  That while people are certainly complicated, a little kindness can go a long way in evening the playing field?  I'm not sure I'll ever understand that aspect.  And frankly, the laws we pass pertaining to civil rights of LGBT communities are unkind.

I mean seriously...if God, the Universe, Allah, Buddah, Jesus, or Grilled Cheezus wanted us to all be the same, then why were we created so differently?

Do I have to just hope my children will someday SMH at this time in history the way we look at separate water fountains as too absurd for words?  Do we really need to wait 55 years? 

Thanks for being a bad ass, Rosa.


love and light,


trish

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