In the stillness of expectation, a soulful cry,
Echoes of faith beneath a golden ornamented sky.
"Amen," they sing, with voices strong and clear,
A remembrance of trials and triumphs, dispelling fear.
Yale Schwarzman Center
In the stillness of expectation, a soulful cry,
Echoes of faith beneath a golden ornamented sky.
"Amen," they sing, with voices strong and clear,
A remembrance of trials and triumphs, dispelling fear.
Their song comes from fields of sorrow to a now promised land,
Hope's melody woven by humble hands.
Through history’s tapestry, their voices soar,
A legacy of faith forevermore.
In "Amen," the soul finds solace deep,
In melodies that stir and words that spirits keep.
Annual Celebration of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., culminates with a Commemoration featuring Ruby Bridges.
Shades of Yale is filling the space with song. Their multitoned voices echo in chorus throughout the grand chamber of Woosley Hall. It is a tone flooded with spiritual grit, appreciation, and remembrance for the history of the black experience in America, setting the stage for the significance and gravity of the present moment.
Many of us know the story of the six-year-old black girl who, escorted by four federal marshals bravely marched through an intolerant crowd on that climacteric morning in November of 1960. Ruby Bridges on that day was to begin her journey as one of the first black students to integrate into an academic institution after the Supreme Court decision of Brown v The Board of Education. A young spark for the civil rights movement of the 20th century, but what took place inside the mind of the 6-year-old girl was a different narrative. Ruby came to Yale on the annual commemoration of Martin Luther King Jr. (MLK), to illuminate the story of a young girl on her first day of school. This is a story of innocence, and of the great struggle between good and evil.
It is time that we stop picking and choosing [our friendships, partnerships, and community] based on color...Good and evil takes form in all shades.
That first day was unlike other firsts for Ruby. Very little was explained to the little girl, and she had to infer for herself many of the interactions taking place. As her car rolled up to William Frantz Elementary School in New Orleans, Ruby gazed innocently and excitedly out the window to see masses of white Mardi Gras celebrators, passionately shouting indistinct phrases while throwing objects both into the air and at the vehicle. Ruby had heard of the wild Mardi Gras celebrations that took place in New Orleans. Then Ruby met her new teacher, Mrs. Henry, a white woman who fresh from Boston was eager to teach Ruby in the apparent absence of other instructors. Ruby also noted the absence of classmates as white parents came to collect their children from school and did not return. Ruby was left to a single classroom with Mrs. Henry. This isolation persisted, until Mrs. Henry threatened action against the illegal segregation, allowing Ruby to join what remained of her peers. And on that day Ruby recalled one of her first interactions on the playground with a young white boy who told her, “My mom said I can’t play with you because you’re a n-----."
And that’s when the significance of her situation finally dawned on six-year-old Ruby. The passionate crowd that paraded around her vehicle each school morning was not a crowd of Mardi Gras celebrators, but an angry mob of combatants, protesting her very presence at the school. Finally, she realized that the masses of parents withdrawing their kids from school, were doing so because of her.
And "that was my introduction to racism,” Ruby remarked, her voice heavy yet resilient against the burden of memory. The reminiscence struck a chord with the audience, resonating reflection upon the insidious nature of prejudice, its profound effect on innocent lives, and its presence in society today. Our world is vastly connected, yet it is entirely possible to live a life without meaningful connection to those outside our respective clans. This is modern day segregation. We see it in academic institutions, social spaces, and communities. Individuals seeking out affiliation based solely on outward appearance, choosing to segregate themselves, fighting it seems, to keep in place the very systems Dr. King fought to unravel. In reflecting on this modern-day misinterpretation of Dr. King’s famed dream Ruby remarks, “Somehow, we still think this fight is about the color of our skin, that is really unfortunate.”
Somehow, we still think this fight is about the color of our skin, that is really unfortunate.
Through Ruby's narrative, the audience experienced the complexities of the human experience—the interplay between good and evil, innocence and prejudice. Her story serves as a reminder that the struggle for equity is ongoing, requiring unwavering commitment and collective action. This is why equity in education is so important, the process of branching out from our respective circles must begin here.
Ruby left us with this thought, "It is time that we stop picking and choosing [our friendships, partnerships, and community] based on color.” Good and evil takes form in all shades. To reference a famed activist, it is time that we start choosing based on the content of character. In the end, Ruby Bridges' story is not just a triumph over integration’s opposition —it is a testament to the enduring power of the human spirit to overcome evil, the protective innocence of youth, and a reminder that segregation can mask itself under the best intentions.