The Justice Journey Pilgrimage

 Day Five

Wrap It Up--But Don't Tie It With a Bow

I am terrible at gift wrapping.  Not for lack of trying, mind you.  Each time I set a box onto a sheet of gift wrap, I tell myself, "You've got this.  Make nice, sharp creases and the paper will fall onto itself so it can be folded in triangles across the end."  And it just doesn't work as intended.

Therefore, I warmly welcomed the invention of gift bags, because I am pretty good as stuffing the tissue paper on top so the recipient can't immediately ascertain what's in the bag.  Even so, I believe the analogy I wish to use for this final blog is wrapping it all up, as in a gift box, but without a bow.

Our final stop of the Justice Journey was the National Civil Rights Museum located at the Lorraine Motel, the site of the assassination of Dr. King, in Memphis.  A number of my fellow pilgrims and shepherds later commented how glad they were this was the final stop of our journey, as it certainly combined all the information learned on our previous stops and coalesced it in an especially poignant way.  I agree wholeheartedly.

The museum relates Black history, from slavery through the War on Poverty supported by Dr. King.  Dr. King was in Memphis to support the Sanitation Workers' Strike when he was murdered.  Throughout the Johnson and Nixon administrations, the War on Poverty—and the Great Society more broadly—laid the foundation for our modern-day safety net, including the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, or SNAP, formerly known as food stamps; Medicare; Medicaid; Head Start; and expanded Social Security.  This began in 1964, when the US poverty rate was 19%.  The official poverty rate in 2020 was 11.4%.  Work remains.

During my visit to the museum, I came upon a number of exhibits that literally took my breath away, as they spoke directly to my past.  Reading about the 1968 Kerner Report, commissioned by President Johnson, led by Otto Kerner, then Governor of my home state of Illinois, caused a visceral reaction as I recalled the riots of 1967, the subject of the Report.  Read more about the Long, Hot Summer of 1967.  Ultimately the Kerner Report found that poverty and institutional racism fueled the riots.  Today, work remains.

There was one particular video presentation that I found especially riveting.  It chronicled the events of 1968-1969, my junior/senior years of high school, as it related to Black history.  I was drawn to the presentation by the music, which immediately recalled sock-hops and dances.  Watching the video, I caught my breath more than once as memories flooded back, saturated with emotion.  So many things I hadn't thought of in decades that once comprised the daily news.  Events and actions I asked myself, "Where was I when this happened?  Why didn't I do more about it?"  Work remains.

When I was a junior and senior at Notre Dame High School for Girls, I belonged to an organization called the Chicago Area Lay Movement  (CALM).  Once a week, we bused from our northwest side school to the Robert Taylor Homes (above) to tutor Black children in reading.  (That's a whole 'nother story.)  Learn more about the Chicago Housing Authority here.  The Robert Taylor Homes were located across from what was then Comiskey Park, home of the Chicago White Sox.  They have since been demolished.

Dr. Martin Luther King's room

Two iconic photographs

The final exhibit in the museum is the boarding house across the street from the Lorraine Motel from where James Earl Ray shot Dr. King.  I had completely forgotten that Ray was arrested by Scotland Yard as he had managed to evade capture for over two months.

Ray's room at the boarding house

The view across the street to the balcony of the Lorraine Motel

James Earl Ray was able to procure firearms legally.  Hopefully we're on our way to making it increasingly difficult for those who plan to use their firearms for nefarious purposes more difficult.

Pilgrims and Shepherds at the last stop

This was not the ghost of Elvis, but as close as we got to the King in Memphis

Time to contemplate

Here's how I'm wrapping it up.  There is little in what I saw over the past week that can be celebrated.  It is a gift, in my opinion, as far as filling our minds and hearts and souls with the need to, as one slogan from the '60's said, keep on keepin' on.  Work remains.  No bows on the box.  The lid remains unclosed.

As a child, I used to lay on the ground in the backyard, gazing up at the clouds, attempting to discern shapes in them.  I wondered if somehow or other God was trying to send his people on earth a message.  Was there something He wanted us to learn?  A bulletin He was sharing and we were supposed to then pass on?  Change the way we were living our lives?  Listen to how to make life better for the entire world, not simply ourselves?

The message I'm (still) thinking I took away from the Justice Journey Pilgrimage was: work remains.  And, influenced by a recent post from Krista Tippet's On Being, what if we get it right?  Can we do that, put ourselves on a path where we make the right decisions, ones that exude justice and fairness, where everyone means everyone?  Could that be what getting it right would reflect? Safety, security for all?  Blessings across the board?

On Being explores the big questions of meaning at the intersection of spiritual inquiry, science, social healing, and the arts:

What does it mean to be human?

How do we want to live?

Who will we be to each other?

To me, the purpose and results of civil rights movement reflects those questions, questions with answers still to be explored.  As I wrote earlier, bearing witness to the atrocities, the inhumanness of man toward fellow man, for me, is that message from God.  I can be brave.  I can rail against injustice.  I can push for bigger responses to problems, in particular because at my age, 70, there isn't a whole lot of time left to see resolution.  Yes, patience is a virtue and as a good friend once told me, better to keep chip, chip, chipping away than throw up your hands in frustration.

I am oh, too aware that work remains.  I come away with a solidification of my commitment to that work.  Recognizing that how the work is done looks different for everyone, I applaud your personal commitment to making a difference.  Every chip counts.

My sincere thanks to my fellow pilgrims and shepherds on this incredible Justice Journey.  I am forever in your debt for sharing your lives with me.