I had to see this. Little Rock Central High School The place where in 1957integration efforts exploded and revealed that the deep division between races that marked our history had not ended with the Civil War. We knew that and still know it.
Just four years after this my family left upstate New York for South Alamaba and I was immersed in the struggle, hearing words and attitudes being taught that I was unfamiliar with in my upbringing, feeling hatred well up in my own heart as I learned to use the "N" word to be accepted with my new friends. Deep inside I knew it was so wrong to do this.
The National Park Service preserved the corner gas station to record the history of those three weeks and on the 50th Anniversary expanded the museum to a nice sized exhibit. The pictures and words and violence still move me deeply. I needed a hair cut yesterday, and their I was in Little Rock, getting trimmed by a black woman. We talked about her family and her dreams and we blessed each other, which is part of my dream for every single day, to show someone I accept them and love them because God loved and accepted me.
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