Cole's Blog
Meeting the past / 10.23.08, 08:34 AM
I have many memories of History Class in elementary school. I remember being taught (however incorrectly) that Christopher Columbus discovered America, that we defeated the British and won our freedom (as well as something about a big tea party), and that we won both WW1 and WW2. Somewhere along the lines I briefly remember learning that there was slavery a long, long time ago, but that it was all better now. Perhaps I was too busy as a child thinking about my lunch, or who my best friend was that week, but my recollection of that era of our history seemed blurred, and until recently somewhat unimportant to my daily life.
Upon arriving at Mission Year we received a training of sorts. During this training we had the opportunity to hear a variety of impressive speakers, one of which gave a brief history lesson on Atlanta. Maybe its because as an adult I have a longer attention span, or maybe with living in Atlanta the information was much more relevant; whatever the cause, I learned a great deal in that hour. I learned that, contrary to my memory, it wasn’t so long ago that the civil war was fought in part right here in Atlanta. A history that my neighbor’s great-grandparents would have remembered, and shared 1st hand stories about. I learned that segregation was still occurring a mere 50 years ago, still very fresh in the minds of some of my new friends. Not just a faded school memory as mine, but a real, a vivid, and a painful part of their past.
A very well-known icon of those times is the famous Martin Luther King Jr. who grew up in Atlanta. In fact, he raised his 4 children in the brick house just across the street from where my team and I live this year. It is interesting to learn how vital he was to the changes made during that era, and how important his memory is to those who live on. A few weeks ago as my teammate Rusty and I walked to the Egg Roll for some Chinese food and an internet connection, our friend and neighbor Emmanuel called to us saying “Hey! I want you to meet my friend Martin!” We followed Emmanuel down the street and stopped beside a man in a black SUV, pulling out of a driveway. The slightly plump, familiar looking man inside smiled warmly and reached out his hand to greet us. “Martin King, nice to meet you!” he said in a friendly voice. “This is Martin Luther Kings Jr’s son!” Emmanuel needlessly explained. I’m not sure if my surprise was evident or not as I reached out my hand and shook his. All of the emotions felt by my neighbors along with all of my new understanding came flooding back to me and I felt a bit overwhelmed by the small bit of history who stood before me. Not to say that this man is any greater than any other, but there is something almost awe-inspiring about meeting a piece of the past. Like standing before Lincoln’s log cabin, or the Washington monument. Not really so impressive in construction or perfect in form, but still very significant to our nation’s history. Our brief conversation lasted only a few moments, the experience will last a lifetime.
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