Why Do You March?

Why Do You March?
By Mildred C. Fallen

On Dr. Martin Luther King Day, my friend, whom I’ll call “Bishop,” called me around 8:30 wanting to know if I had the day off and what I was doing. I told him our Public Allies class was celebrating a day in service—“a day on, not off,” and was participating in the Martin Luther King Jr. Coalition’s march from the National Underground Railroad Freedom Center. Bishop groaned.

At first, Bishop seemed to feel sorry for me that I didn’t “get to stay home,” and told me how cold it was that morning when he left to go work. Then, with sarcasm, he told me some of his co-workers, who are a generation older than us, march every year. “I don’t get that,” he said. Why are people still marching?”

We laughed at his cynical observation after he described how he is judged for not participating in the march with his co-workers,like he’s a discredit to Dr. King’s legacy and his race. For me, it was funny, largely, because I know Bishop well enough to know that he was really asking, “What does marching do, in terms of service in 2012? And how does it help people after MLK day? I can bet that if Bishop asked his middle-aged African-American co-workers who attend the marches faithfully with their civic organizations why they march, and with the same sarcasm, to them, he might’ve sounded ungrateful for the legacy King’s work imparted on America.

But for Bishop’s and my generation, the generation born a decade after the Civil Rights Movement, this legacy came to us skewed, by talking heads tip-toeing the subject of Black History, and textbooks that summarized the Civil Rights Movement—which lasted two decades—into one or two dry paragraphs. By the time Bishop and I were born, the Black Power Movement looked more like Soul Train dancers; and grassroots leadership was becoming an ambiguous notion as corporate America and government became more involved than “the people.” By the 1970s, Americans were more divided by social and economic factions than ever before since slavery. In retrospect, the word “community” must’ve sounded like a misnomer to most people, who were turning inward and concentrating on self-preservation, or “getting ahead.”

In the mid to late 70s, racism wasn’t being denied access to institutions or service, but it was the fine print in government sanctioned regulations that still made us economically disparaged as a community. Growing up, I heard some of my neighborhood’s elders blame integration for the fall of the black community. I can’t say I don’t understand now, what they meant, because as an adult thinking about what integration implies, it’s like the happy ending in a Disney film because it assumes what everyone wants to see after witnessing “moments” of peril. Elders who felt this way lived through the pages in history our textbooks couldn’t contextualize, remembering a time when they were happy living in their microcosmic neighborhood, now watching in silent fear while the assets of living in a black community depleted, as drug dealers and gangs slowly pushed away the family-owned businesses that provided services and goods to them.

Urban sprawl that helped connect the city to the suburbs also made people spend time in their own neighborhoods less and less, and spending time outside of the neighborhood helped you learn what other neighborhoods offered, but sadly, it made many people I grew up around see their own neighborhoods as deficit based. Rightfully so, people wanted to move to where they felt they could have better opportunities, but that didn’t change the plight of the people who had no choice but to stay where they were. Madison Avenue and television marketed the image of an upper middle class that wasn’t reflective in many homes, and for some people, the bootstrap ideology was bunk. Over the sitcom’s laugh track, you could almost hear this overwhelming cry from poor people of all races: “Where is my piece of the pie? I’ve worked hard my whole life?”

Bishop and I come from similar life experiences and relate to each other so well that when he asked the question, “Why do people still march,” I knew he wasn’t being ungrateful to King’s legacy. As children, going beyond the grumblings of our elders who wished things were different, we always dreamed and planned how we would make a difference. Maybe to Bishop, marching on MLK Day in the 21st century placates people’s need to feel like we’re making a difference by remembering the one person we like to think of as the face of the Civil Rights Movement.

This MLK Day, I did march. Maybe on the surface to someone else, it just looked symbolic. But I wasn’t just marching out of compliance to my organization. I marched with reverence and consciousness for the men and women of all ages and races who marched before me so that I can have the things I have today, which are choices. When I think of service, I want to continue reflecting on how the work I do will serve someone else in a way that reminds him or her that no matter what skin we’re in, someone fought—and still fights-- for everyone’s right to choose where they spend their money, where they can live, worship, work and socialize. I march thinking of those mighty fighters who go unmentioned beside Dr. King.

And maybe next MLK Day, Bishop will march with me.

BRIDGES collaborates with The Ensemble Theatre in February

It's Passover, 1865. The Civil War has just ended and the annual celebration of freedom from bondage is being observed in Jewish homes across the country. Caleb DeLeon, a Jewish Confederate soldier, returns wounded from the battlefield to find his family home in ruins, abandoned by everyone except Simon and John, two former slaves, who were raised as Jews in the DeLeon home. As the three men wait for the family's return, they wrestle with their shared past as master and slave, uncovering a tangle of long-buried family secrets as well as new ones...ties that bind them together and that, ultimately, might cost each man his freedom. Please note, this production contains strong adult language and themes and may not be suitable for all audiences.

Tickets range in price from $36 - $42. For more information or to purchase tickets, visitwww.cincyetc.com, call (513) 421-3555 or stop by the Ensemble Theater Box Office.

On Sunday, January 29 at 2 p.m., and Sunday, February 5, at 2 p.m., BRIDGES will participate on the panel discussion, "Talk Back" to discuss with the audience their perspectives and insights from the production. Please join us during one of these performances, or support the performance when your calendar permits.

Thank you for advancing a Just community through the arts!

BRIDGES’ Work with the Student Equity Council at Great Oaks

BRIDGES’ Work with the Student Equity Council at Great Oaks

As part of my 10-month apprenticeship with Public Allies, a program of BRIDGES for a Just Community, I serve as a Coordinator of Volunteer Programs and Communications. At BRIDGES, our core values center around community, justice, respect, inclusion, collaboration, responsibility, integrity, learning, celebration and sustainability, and as an ally, I observed these values put into practice at a recent Student Equity Council session.

First established by Great Oaks in 2008 as a way for students of different backgrounds to learn respect for others and his or her school, the Student Equity Council institutes teach juniors and seniors equity leadership principles they can implement as student ambassadors and future community leaders. At the first SEC institute of the 2011-2012, academic year hosted by Scarlet Oaks’ Assistant Dean, Craig Williams, I enjoyed the privilege of attending a session with BRIDGES’ Director of Programs, Shawn Jeffers, who facilitates. In a series of activities and discussions, I interacted with an energetic group of high-school students from Diamond Oaks, Scarlet Oaks, Winton Woods, Mount Healthy, Harrison and Taylor High School.

At SEC trainings, students not only learn practical nuts and bolts of community leadership, but they discuss what diversity looks like in terms of accepting and acknowledging different backgrounds of race and ethnicity, neighborhoods, economic class and sexual-orientation. The discussions around pre-conceived notions and stereotypes are candid, but there are conditions for success— community rules of engagement that prepare each participant to remain engaged, behave respectfully but speak their truth, grant amnesty to those who may step out of bounds when speaking their truth, challenging oneself to experience discomfort in new situations, and accept nondisclosure.

Helium Bar and 60 Seconds

During the day, I took the opportunity to lead and participate in activities designed to frame tangible ideas of leadership and self-awareness while incorporating BRIDGES’ core values. For example, “the Helium Bar” activity focused on aspects of collaboration, respect and community, and was acted out by two rows of students who faced each other trying to lower a 20-foot tent pole to the ground in unison. Students soon learned the pole was malleable, therefore, harder to prevent from warping or one end rising higher than the other end. In order to achieve the objective, students needed to collaborate with each other respectfully and figure out what input from the community needed to be implemented. At first, a few students reacted in frustration and blurted attacks instead of instructions, like ‘You’re messing it up!” or “Stop pushing it so much!” Others who were more patient tried a different approach by making suggestions or listening to another student’s vision of how an approach could work. I noticed the students began to calm down and listen to each other’s instructions and even congratulate each other when the beam remained straight as they lowered it to the floor.

Another activity, 60 Seconds, allowed the students to "put themselves in each other’s shoes," and as Jeffers further suggested, “lace them tightly and walk around in them.” For example, when students shared out their immediate one-word reactions to prompts like “poor,” “black women,” and “gay and lesbian,” the responses were seen as funny when it wasn’t that student’s demographic or identity marker. Under the black women category, most words were derogatory as well as stereotypes, and they were stereotypes that you're more likely to see exploited on shows like Maury, i.e.; being loud,physically combative and high-strung, speaking inarticulately, being unwed mothers who are lascivious and lustful, and lifelong welfare recipients. I observed that when students got the chance to read all the sheets, I could tell how painful it was to read what other people put about their demographic, and the African-American girls seemed especially offended, even though many of them were the ones to write the words on the sheet. The offense came after seeing others outside of the identity group laugh and make jokes about the words, or say things to another student such as, "Yeah, I see that all the time; that's definitely how Black women act!" When the group was asked to share thoughts about the exercise, several students shared that they wanted to defend their group and dispel the myth that these stereotypes were normative and all-encompassing of a group's identity.

Implementing Community Agreements At School
After creating a list of community agreements for students to carry out successfully at their prospective schools, the group discussed accountability as leaders. For many of the students, it was more important to be seen as a peer who leads by example, not by policing and admonishing others’ behavior. When asked how they would deescalate violence and bullying, a few students suggested that SEC ambassadors bring calm to both sides by reminding students of the disciplinary consequences of such behavior. They also said they would offer empathy and act as peer counselors to students who fight because they have trouble fitting in, especially if they recognize an opportunity to show they can relate.

The Student Equity Council is just one way BRIDGES teaches organizations how to foster environments of inclusion. For more information about BRIDGES and its programs,visit: www.bridgescincinnati.org.

Author: Mildred C. Fallen

Beechwood Students Learn about Inclusion and Anti-Bullying Tactics

It was two hours before the end of the day at Beechwood Independent School District in Ft. Mitchell, Kentucky, where students were asked to recall the origins of their names in preparation for the speech they would hear regarding inclusion and building relationships. It’s not a typical thought that most young students reflect upon towards the end of the day, yet it became so relevant to the topic of discussion-bullying.

As he engaged the enthusiastic students, speaker Shawn Jeffers, Director of Programs at BRIDGES for a Just Community, decided to share the origin of his name with the young crowd. “Nicholas… Demetrius… oh yes, S.h.a.w.n. is what we will name him,” Jeffers mentioned when sharing how his parents came up with the name he has today. Informing the crowd of how his parents met in Europe while his father was stationed in Germany, Jeffers discussed how he got the unique spelling of his name due to its relation to his relatives in the Netherlands.

Eager to connect the purposes of his story to the topic of bullying, Jeffers then discussed with the students that each of our names are unique and different, therefore we are unique and different from each other. In fact, our names may even be spelled differently from one another to define its uniqueness from other names. Yet, there are those who cruelly judge our names and go as far as to make fun of the way it looks and sounds, instead of getting to know the uniqueness behind our names, therefore getting to know us. Just because someone’s name is unlike yours, doesn’t mean you have to treat him or her any differently.

This same concept was shared with the kindergarten through third grade crowd, but it involved their favorite colors. Jeffers asked those students whose favorite color is blue “for people who don’t like the color blue, are they wrong?” The students quickly answered “No,” while embracing their understanding that we are all different and there’s nothing wrong with being different.

Being different or unlike someone else is the underlying cause of bullying, especially in elementary and junior high school. Therefore, in order to prevent or minimize bullying BRIDGES teaches children about acceptance and understanding of others’ differences. Using two of the character words “respect” and “honesty” that the children have learned over the last couple of weeks, the students of Beechwood were taught to respect those who are unlike each other and show honesty when reporting that someone is being bullied are only some of the effective ways in which bullying can be eliminated.

Keeping in mind the Platinum Rule-“Treat others the way THEY want to be treated,” is just one of the many key themes BRIDGES for a Just Community enjoys promoting through their “JUST Community,” “Village Schools,” and other issue and advocacy programs, Jeffers explained.

Since its beginning year in 1944, BRIDGES has been our region’s leading human relations organization and is a founding member of the National Federation for Just Communities, a coalition of like-minded organizations working together across America to bring the values of diversity, inclusion and social justice to our communities, schools, workplaces and institutions. BRIDGES aligns this idea of diversity, inclusion and social justice with the values Beechwood School has in guiding their students down a pathway of social excellence among other things.

Wanting to leave the students at Beechwood with a message about bullying and inclusion, Jeffers referred back to the name-game activity that helped the children build their understanding around the topic of bullying by stating;
“We have to honor our names by making a difference and getting to know others by their names… we have differences as much as we have similarities and we have to respect that! We may look different and have different experiences, but we can still have a conversation with others… get to know who they are and don’t just assume who they are because they are different.”

Other tactics Jeffers mentioned for ways to handle bullying include reporting any bullying activities to an adult like a teacher or a parent, standing up for a peer or friend who is being bullied and prevent becoming the bully or bully police by simply “asking the bully to stop verses angrily demanding him or her to stop.”

In a final effort to convince the students at Beechwood about the seriousness of bullying, Jeffers brought up the lives of Carl Walker Hoover, an 11 year old boy who hung himself after being bullied daily because his peers thought he was gay, and Ashlynn Conner, a 10 year old honor student who was alleged to have hung herself after being taunted by the girls at her school. These young innocent children are only few of many who have felt that no one stood up for them when they were being bullied. Sadly, there are more cases like this each day and the toll of deaths as a result of bullying continue to rise. Learn to stop the bullying before the bullying stops you!

Author: Alexis Williams
Communications Intern


Source List:
www.beechwood.k12.ky.us

http://nky.cincinnati.com/article/AB/20111028/NEWS0102/110290323/School-district-fights-bullying?odyssey=nav%7Chead


www.glsen.org/cgi-bin/iowa/all/news/record/2400.html

http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/local/breaking/chi-funeral-today-for-girl-10-whose-family-says-killed-herself-because-of-bullying-20111116,0,3663336.story

Working together to end hate

Not in Our Town: Light in the Darkness is a one-hour documentary about Patchogue, New York, a community devastated by hate. In 2008, the Long Island village was the site of a series of attacks against Latino residents including the murder of Marcelo Lucero, an Ecuadoran immigrant. The film profiles the community’s efforts to take action after the anti-immigrant hate crime. The town’s courage in facing down hate is underwritten by the belief that small actions by everyday people can lead to big changes.

This week is the Not in Our Town National Week of Action and now is the time to ask ourselves what we are doing to end hate in our own communities. Check your local listings and make sure to watch this documentary. In the meantime, learn more about ending hate in your community.

Michelle Watts

Work to Do*

August was a difficult month. In early August, there was a murder-suicide in Deerfield Township. Amanda Borsos was killed on her 17th birthday. Her boyfriend killed himself later that same day. It’s been about three weeks since 16 year-old Davon Mullins was killed by a police officer at Fountain Square. The whole city was shocked by the shooting that took place in Cincinnati’s ‘living room.’ The shock was understandable, especially considering that just the day before, there had been another officer-involved shooting at Findlay Market. These incidents are no longer lead stories on the news; and maybe that’s a good thing. After all, there are families, and officers, who need time to heal from these tragedies. On the other hand, we have to make sure that the absence of reporters and cameras don’t lull us into believing that things have changed. As the families heal, the community should take the time to think about what it means to be a young adult in 2011.There are indeed a number of challenges facing young adults and ignoring those challenges won’t make them go away.

I don’t want to suggest that every young adult in our area is an accident waiting to happen. I do, however, want to think more about how we respond to these incidents and what we can do to prevent them from happening in the first place. Typically, a community responds to incidents of violence with sadness, sorrow and talking points. Pundits bemoan the easy accessibility of guns and analyze the links between race and violence. Schools respond with ‘zero-tolerance’ policies. Parents and city officials enact strict curfews. And all responsible adults talk to each other about the plight of today’s youth. But in the midst of all of these responses, there is one critical missing element. Many times, we forget to talk to the young adults themselves. If we really want to know how they feel, what they think about their circumstances, when and where they feel threatened and how we can work together, then at some point in time, we have to sit down and have a constructive, open dialogue.

If you still aren’t convinced of the need to talk to young adults, think about what is now being called “America’s Generation Gap.” By 2042, people of color will be the majority in America. That majority will also be signifihttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifcantly younger than the white minority. We are in a period in which there exists a contrast in needs and priorities between a largely young, nonwhite population and a largely white older population. Policy Link states that, “For the first time, America's seniors, business leaders, and elected officials simply do not see themselves in the faces of todays young. For many, this signals less obligation and commitment to the kinds of programs and resources that would help provide a boost for the next generation.”


While the pain heals, the community has to step in and do the important work of talking to and working with our young adults. Sometimes the first step is the most important.
Michelle Watts

An Opportunity Lost At the Table of Brotherhood and Sisterhood

An opportunity to sit down together at the “table of brotherhood” (and sisterhood) at a local high school, Mother of Mercy, recently was lost because of outcries from a few who missed the larger and more important messages of peace, and justice and interfaith understanding. Earlier in their efforts to find common ground, Catholic and Muslims students were seeking ways to expand their own learning of each others' religious traditions by breaking the traditional Ramadan fast with a shared meal. Regrettably, that particular meal was never prepared.

In one of the most critical moments in his life, the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. guided us with his words from The Strength to Love (1963), when he wrote “The ultimate measure of a man (or woman) is not where he (she) stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he (she) stands at times of challenge and controversy." In his honor, a stone monument stands in our nation’s capitol as a reminder to all of us and generations to come that justice and peace aren’t easily attained.

BRIDGES for A Just Community has stood with the greater community to bring voices to the voiceless, and as a mediator and advocate when communities and people find themselves on opposing sides of important social and human rights issues. From our early work under the name of the National Council for Christians and Jews to the evolving inclusive efforts as the National Conference for Community and Justice, BRIDGES for a Just Community (our new corporate name) continues to work quietly, behind the scenes, and when necessary, visibly and publicly as a convener to bring together people with varying points of view to seek and find common ground. We have a long, rich and proud history of human relations work in the Greater Cincinnati community.

Yet, our work is far from complete. BRIDGES recently partnered with more than a dozen like-minded organizations to plan an upcoming community-wide commemoration of the tragic events of September 11, 2001. This group, which includes the Council on American Islamic Relations (CAIR-OH) and the Archdiocese of Cincinnati – are working together, along with the other 14 organizations to “remember, unify and hope.” Amidst the effort to focus on the events of 9/11, a smaller disruption of unity occurred when a student-led opportunity to come to the “table of brotherhood and sisterhood” was lost.

The high school students who wished to simply eat together and learn from one another was a courageous act to achieve Dr. King’s dream. We are hopeful that the cancellation of the dinner at Mother of Mercy (although it was still held at a different location) will open dialogue rather than to slam the door on learning about differences.

Especially as we approach the observance of the many tender and unifying commemorations of 9/11, we hope that this episode will not prevent the students from losing hope to serve our community and our nation - together. For too long, we have asked young people to care about one another with their words AND their actions. Now, we must ask ourselves, will the school, the students, and the parents close their hearts and minds to others who worship differently? Will the students be too discouraged to care about one another? Will the barriers of misunderstanding and misinformation prevent important dialogue and community service from occurring? Will the communities that would have been served by these young, enthusiastic people suffer because of pressures outside of their control?

Our community is facing serious economic and social challenges that require every citizen to work together. We encourage the Archdiocese of Cincinnati and CAIR-OH to engage in constructive and respectful dialogues to heal and find common ground. We hope that everyone involved will stand together, even when it is uncomfortable, to set an important example of leadership, love and conviction modeled for all of us so many years ago.
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About BRIDGES for a Just Community, Inc.

BRIDGES for a Just Community brings people together to achieve inclusion, equity and justice for all who live and work in the Greater Cincinnati community. As the region’s leading human relations organization, BRIDGES’ vision is to create a respectful, equitable and welcoming community for all citizens through education, advocacy and dialogue. Formerly the National Conference for Community and Justice (NCCJ) of Greater Cincinnati, BRIDGES for a Just Community has served the region since 1944. For more information, call BRIDGES at 513-381- 4660 or visit online at www.bridgescincinnati.org.