When I began writing my book, Looking Back, who knew there would be another book coming out about the same time on the history of the boomers? I started the book because I suddenly realized one day that very little has been written about that era, and that history needed to be chronicled by people who had lived through it. My goal was to create a history book that readers would enjoy. There’s nothing boring about Looking Back!
Then Tom Brokaw’s new book titled Boom came out this month, which I’ve already read. It’s a good book, as would be expected from one of America’s top journalists, and thanks to his celebrity status, specials on the '60s are popping up all over television networks. Before I read it, I had the impression that he was covering basically the same information I had covered in Looking Back, and it’s true that some of it did overlap. However, there are two distinct differences in our books, besides his being twice as long.
1. Brokaw’s book focuses only on the ‘60s. He covers in depth the civil rights movement, the counterculture, and the hippies who traveled to San Francisco for the “summer of love.” I would definitely recommend his book to anyone who wants a nostalgic look back at the turbulent ‘60s because the decade is covered in detail.
Meanwhile, Looking Back covers every decade since the ‘40s and all the ways that America has been impacted by the baby boom. One chapter on the ‘50s tells about the integration crisis in Little Rock, and a chapter is devoted to the ‘60s and the civil rights movement, counterculture, hippies and the “summer of love.”
2. Brokaw interviewed dozens of people for their take on the ‘60s. He talked to both famous and ordinary people who were affected by the Vietnam War and the cultural war at home, recording their memories. I loved reading about some of the roles these people played in bringing about changes, and about those who were left scratching their heads and wondering what was happening.
Looking Back, on the other hand, uses actual stories written by ordinary people who lived through the ‘60s and other decades. These essays are emotional and sometimes raw as writers remember how they felt at the beginning of the civil rights movement in Little Rock as students in the first integrated public school in the South. Some writers recall the emotional moments of serving in the military during the Vietnam War while others shudder at memories of the Cold War. There are several essays that talk about the assassinations and cultural changes that took place during that ‘60s. During later decades, some writers remember how 9/11 changed the their lives and others recall the shock and horror of returning home following Hurricane Katrina to discover their homes and everything they had owned and cherished had been destroyed by the fury of that single memorable mega-storm.
So would I recommend Brokaw’s book Boom to readers? Absolutely! It provides an in-depth look at the defining decade of the boomer era. But for a look at all of the decades that boomers have lived through and impacted, as well as been affected by, Looking Back covers the drama of it all in warm, touching, emotionally revealing stories by the people who were there. We witnessed it, and some of us even took part in the cultural revolution that swept America during the ‘60s. To not read about the decades that led up to the ‘60s is akin to eating a hamburger without the bun. And the technological advances that amaze and sometimes confound us today, plus the social concerns that were raised during the ‘60s still affect Americans and will continue to impact the world in the future. Current and future problems facing us are also covered in Looking Back.
Buy both books for a broad historical perspective on the history of the boomer generation. Believe me, it will be an educational experience and your life will be richer for having read them both!
To order Looking Back or to read an excerpt, click on link on top left.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
The Turbulent Sixties
The ‘60s was such a complex decade that it will definitely take more than this article to explain it. So I’m only tackling a small portion of it this time.
The ‘50s ended with Cuba turning to communism under the leadership of Fidel Castro, the revolutionary who ousted President Juan Batista. In my book Looking Back, Celeste Cañizares Dieppa recalls her childhood playing with the Batista children, then the day men in long beards took over the country. She remembers the hardships they faced as her father was jailed and her mother continuously interrogated. Life became a struggle to survive until they finally were allowed to emigrate to the United States.
The ‘50s closed with rock ‘n’ roll music firmly entrenched as the music of choice for young people. No longer was the safe, predictable easy-listening or big band music of their parents enough to keep the Boomer generation content. They wanted music that expressed their rebellious yearnings. In addition to rock music, old folk music was making a comeback as young people discovered the songs and learned to pick guitars. then gravitated to folk music centers in the Village in New York City and San Francisco. They would soon change to protest songs as the '60s emerged as the decade of social activism and society drop-outs.
Also in the late ‘50s, the Russians launched Sputnik, which started the space race between the United States and Russia. Before the end of the '60s, an American astronaut would walk on the moon!
The ‘60s started as such a hopeful decade. The economy was booming and we had a new, young president who inspired great expectations, including the promise to put an American on the moon before the end of the decade. John F. Kennedy’s years in office are remembered as Camelot, with a photogenic wife and their two young children introducing much-welcomed youthfulness to the dignified old White House. The country embraced the First Family and everything they represented: vitality; hopefulness; unselfish service to the country; activism. Kennedy’s Peace Corps offered an exciting opportunity for young Americans to give of themselves to others who were in need. Many joined the Peace Corps to build homes, dig wells, and educate people in underdeveloped countries. We who were young then had the world by the horns, and nothing could hold us back.
Camelot ended on a day in November, 1963 when a loner and loser named Lee Harvey Oswald shot and killed Kennedy as his motorcade traveled through downtown Dallas. The nation was horrified! That was the defining moment in a lot of young lives. Suddenly, all that had been safe, good, and possible in our lives was turned into a tragedy beyond our comprehension. After that one despicable act, no longer would we ever believe in fairy tales, nor would a great number ever trust our government to tell the truth.
Amidst the general optimism during the early ‘60s before Kennedy’s death, young people feared the Cold War and the nuclear bomb that could destroy us all. They were determined to try and change the world so that no other generation would have to live with the threat of annihilation triggered by a crazed leader in our country, Russia, or anywhere else in our world . Our greatest fear almost became a reality in October, 1962 during the Cuban Missile Crisis. A nuclear disaster was narrowly averted when Russia finally responded to President Kennedy’s demands that they pull their missiles out of Cuba.
Two other significant historic events during the early ‘60s ensured that that our world would never be the same. 1) Birth control pills were made available, giving young women reproductive choices. 2) The civil rights movement for blacks was born and was to become a rallying cry that would lead to angry protests around the country.
1) Birth control ensured that young women’s lives would change. If they wanted to delay child-bearing, for the first time ever they had a choice. Birth control meant that women could concentrate on building careers if they chose, or stay home and raise children. Women had been in the workforce in large numbers since World War II when they were called upon to pick up the tools of industry to keep our country humming. But they were never given the same opportunities that men were given because they were expected to quit after a couple of years to have children.
Women didn’t receive the same pay as men for the same jobs because they weren’t considered providers for their families—that was a man’s job. Never mind the women who were sole providers because of the death of their spouse or a divorce. Divorce was still a dirty word, and those women who were divorced were often looked down upon by their male bosses as having somehow been the ones at fault for their position.
Big business has always had a particular interest in women’s reproductive rights because as long as women remained shackled to home and the hearth, wages during their short foray into the working world could be kept low. Profits for big businesses overrode women’s rights and still drive the arguments against planned parenthood today. Once the burden of unexpected pregnancies was lifted, women could demand equal pay and rights in the workplace, increasing wage costs.
Married couples could delay childbearing until they were psychologically ready and financially capable of supporting children, but birth control also changed the sexual attitudes of young, unmarried women and teenagers. With no fear of pregnancy, they could engage in a promiscuous lifestyle—and did! Suddenly, sexual activity on movie screens and in real life ratcheted up.
2), The civil rights movement pricked the conscience of young people who had watched on their television screens as Central High School in Little Rock was integrated, and in Alabama, Rosa Parks refused to move to the back of a bus, where blacks were expected to ride. It also heralded a crisis of conscience when the young people trying to help with voter registration and integration in the South were beaten and killed. Black residents in large cities across the country soon began rioting, demanding change.
At the same time that this was going on, the plight of poor whites and elderly people across the country was being made public as President Lyndon Johnson declared a war on poverty and tried to get legislation passed to ensure that all of America’s citizens were provided with equal opportunities, and given a boost up the economic ladder.
The unfortunate legacy of President Johnson is that he also escalated the war in Vietnam after his administration lied to the American people about the Gulf of Tonkin incident. His place in history was regretfully diminished during this period as his administration self-destructed amidst the increasing fury of voters who were against the war in Vietnam.
Next time I’ll write about the anti-war movement, the counterculture, and the “make love, not war” generation, all part of the landscape that plunged our country into a tumultuous period that still haunts our society today.
The ‘50s ended with Cuba turning to communism under the leadership of Fidel Castro, the revolutionary who ousted President Juan Batista. In my book Looking Back, Celeste Cañizares Dieppa recalls her childhood playing with the Batista children, then the day men in long beards took over the country. She remembers the hardships they faced as her father was jailed and her mother continuously interrogated. Life became a struggle to survive until they finally were allowed to emigrate to the United States.
The ‘50s closed with rock ‘n’ roll music firmly entrenched as the music of choice for young people. No longer was the safe, predictable easy-listening or big band music of their parents enough to keep the Boomer generation content. They wanted music that expressed their rebellious yearnings. In addition to rock music, old folk music was making a comeback as young people discovered the songs and learned to pick guitars. then gravitated to folk music centers in the Village in New York City and San Francisco. They would soon change to protest songs as the '60s emerged as the decade of social activism and society drop-outs.
Also in the late ‘50s, the Russians launched Sputnik, which started the space race between the United States and Russia. Before the end of the '60s, an American astronaut would walk on the moon!
The ‘60s started as such a hopeful decade. The economy was booming and we had a new, young president who inspired great expectations, including the promise to put an American on the moon before the end of the decade. John F. Kennedy’s years in office are remembered as Camelot, with a photogenic wife and their two young children introducing much-welcomed youthfulness to the dignified old White House. The country embraced the First Family and everything they represented: vitality; hopefulness; unselfish service to the country; activism. Kennedy’s Peace Corps offered an exciting opportunity for young Americans to give of themselves to others who were in need. Many joined the Peace Corps to build homes, dig wells, and educate people in underdeveloped countries. We who were young then had the world by the horns, and nothing could hold us back.
Camelot ended on a day in November, 1963 when a loner and loser named Lee Harvey Oswald shot and killed Kennedy as his motorcade traveled through downtown Dallas. The nation was horrified! That was the defining moment in a lot of young lives. Suddenly, all that had been safe, good, and possible in our lives was turned into a tragedy beyond our comprehension. After that one despicable act, no longer would we ever believe in fairy tales, nor would a great number ever trust our government to tell the truth.
Amidst the general optimism during the early ‘60s before Kennedy’s death, young people feared the Cold War and the nuclear bomb that could destroy us all. They were determined to try and change the world so that no other generation would have to live with the threat of annihilation triggered by a crazed leader in our country, Russia, or anywhere else in our world . Our greatest fear almost became a reality in October, 1962 during the Cuban Missile Crisis. A nuclear disaster was narrowly averted when Russia finally responded to President Kennedy’s demands that they pull their missiles out of Cuba.
Two other significant historic events during the early ‘60s ensured that that our world would never be the same. 1) Birth control pills were made available, giving young women reproductive choices. 2) The civil rights movement for blacks was born and was to become a rallying cry that would lead to angry protests around the country.
1) Birth control ensured that young women’s lives would change. If they wanted to delay child-bearing, for the first time ever they had a choice. Birth control meant that women could concentrate on building careers if they chose, or stay home and raise children. Women had been in the workforce in large numbers since World War II when they were called upon to pick up the tools of industry to keep our country humming. But they were never given the same opportunities that men were given because they were expected to quit after a couple of years to have children.
Women didn’t receive the same pay as men for the same jobs because they weren’t considered providers for their families—that was a man’s job. Never mind the women who were sole providers because of the death of their spouse or a divorce. Divorce was still a dirty word, and those women who were divorced were often looked down upon by their male bosses as having somehow been the ones at fault for their position.
Big business has always had a particular interest in women’s reproductive rights because as long as women remained shackled to home and the hearth, wages during their short foray into the working world could be kept low. Profits for big businesses overrode women’s rights and still drive the arguments against planned parenthood today. Once the burden of unexpected pregnancies was lifted, women could demand equal pay and rights in the workplace, increasing wage costs.
Married couples could delay childbearing until they were psychologically ready and financially capable of supporting children, but birth control also changed the sexual attitudes of young, unmarried women and teenagers. With no fear of pregnancy, they could engage in a promiscuous lifestyle—and did! Suddenly, sexual activity on movie screens and in real life ratcheted up.
2), The civil rights movement pricked the conscience of young people who had watched on their television screens as Central High School in Little Rock was integrated, and in Alabama, Rosa Parks refused to move to the back of a bus, where blacks were expected to ride. It also heralded a crisis of conscience when the young people trying to help with voter registration and integration in the South were beaten and killed. Black residents in large cities across the country soon began rioting, demanding change.
At the same time that this was going on, the plight of poor whites and elderly people across the country was being made public as President Lyndon Johnson declared a war on poverty and tried to get legislation passed to ensure that all of America’s citizens were provided with equal opportunities, and given a boost up the economic ladder.
The unfortunate legacy of President Johnson is that he also escalated the war in Vietnam after his administration lied to the American people about the Gulf of Tonkin incident. His place in history was regretfully diminished during this period as his administration self-destructed amidst the increasing fury of voters who were against the war in Vietnam.
Next time I’ll write about the anti-war movement, the counterculture, and the “make love, not war” generation, all part of the landscape that plunged our country into a tumultuous period that still haunts our society today.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
CHRISTMAS IS RAPIDLY APPROACHING,
and what better gift for your friends and family than a book that offers an emotional stroll down memory lane?
The Book: LOOKING BACK: BOOMERS REMEMBER HISTORY makes a wonderful Christmas gift for those on your list who are reaching “that certain age” when the past begins to look better all the time. Or for your children and grandchildren, who need to know the story of the amazing moments their parents and grandparents lived through.
History is not boring—especially the history of the Boomers! Oh yeah, the way we were taught it in school could positively make me snore. But this history book is different! It is written by those of us who were there—who witnessed it all as it happened.
We watched the amazing drama unfold on the small black and white screens of that new invention, the television. Some of us even participated in various events that made the news back then. What exciting times we had, and how sorrowful some of it was as we wondered if the world would survive until we reached adulthood.
For a personal journey into the past that will bring back memories of assassinations, riots, an unpopular war, and a government that seemed to be coming apart at the seams, Looking Back provides a unique firsthand glimpse at the times. The book also recalls the polio scare that had our parents keeping us at home to avoid becoming one of those children confined to iron lungs or wheelchairs. Fortunately, a remarkable new vaccine was discovered to prevent the disabling and deadly disease, freeing us to once again enjoy childhood activities like going to public swimming pools and Saturday matinees.
Also recalled are drive-in movies—those theaters under the stars where almost all of us went with our families and on dates. Lacking shopping malls then, the drive-in movies were our social scene. And of course, the end of segregation is covered by three of us who attended Central High School during the integration crisis in 1957/58, by one who recalls the shame of segregation during those years, and by one Vietnam War veteran whose first experience with integration happened when he joined the military in the '60s.
Looking Back is receiving great reviews for the way history was treated in the book—not as a dry, boring subject--but as many interesting stories interwoven to reveal the emotions behind history. It’s not a book that readers have to read from front cover to back. Instead, readers can pick and choose among the stories at any one sitting, a great convenience for those who don't have much time to read.
The beautifully designed book is available as paperback for $17.95 (plus shipping and handling). It can be ordered online from http://www.booklocker.com/books/3056.html, with delivery within 10 days. Or order directly from me for $22.00 (covers shipping and handling). Send check to: Kay Kennedy, P. O. Box 4566, Cottonwood, AZ 86326. Delivery should be within 10 days, but I’ll notify you if it might take longer.
Another great gift for those budding writers on your gift list is a copy of my book, Portable Writing, available for $16.95 (plus shipping and handling) online at http://www.booklocker.com/books/2461.html. You can also order copies of Portable Writing directly from me by sending a check for $21.00 (includes shipping and handling) to my Cottonwood address, above.
The Book: LOOKING BACK: BOOMERS REMEMBER HISTORY makes a wonderful Christmas gift for those on your list who are reaching “that certain age” when the past begins to look better all the time. Or for your children and grandchildren, who need to know the story of the amazing moments their parents and grandparents lived through.
History is not boring—especially the history of the Boomers! Oh yeah, the way we were taught it in school could positively make me snore. But this history book is different! It is written by those of us who were there—who witnessed it all as it happened.
We watched the amazing drama unfold on the small black and white screens of that new invention, the television. Some of us even participated in various events that made the news back then. What exciting times we had, and how sorrowful some of it was as we wondered if the world would survive until we reached adulthood.
For a personal journey into the past that will bring back memories of assassinations, riots, an unpopular war, and a government that seemed to be coming apart at the seams, Looking Back provides a unique firsthand glimpse at the times. The book also recalls the polio scare that had our parents keeping us at home to avoid becoming one of those children confined to iron lungs or wheelchairs. Fortunately, a remarkable new vaccine was discovered to prevent the disabling and deadly disease, freeing us to once again enjoy childhood activities like going to public swimming pools and Saturday matinees.
Also recalled are drive-in movies—those theaters under the stars where almost all of us went with our families and on dates. Lacking shopping malls then, the drive-in movies were our social scene. And of course, the end of segregation is covered by three of us who attended Central High School during the integration crisis in 1957/58, by one who recalls the shame of segregation during those years, and by one Vietnam War veteran whose first experience with integration happened when he joined the military in the '60s.
Looking Back is receiving great reviews for the way history was treated in the book—not as a dry, boring subject--but as many interesting stories interwoven to reveal the emotions behind history. It’s not a book that readers have to read from front cover to back. Instead, readers can pick and choose among the stories at any one sitting, a great convenience for those who don't have much time to read.
The beautifully designed book is available as paperback for $17.95 (plus shipping and handling). It can be ordered online from http://www.booklocker.com/books/3056.html, with delivery within 10 days. Or order directly from me for $22.00 (covers shipping and handling). Send check to: Kay Kennedy, P. O. Box 4566, Cottonwood, AZ 86326. Delivery should be within 10 days, but I’ll notify you if it might take longer.
Another great gift for those budding writers on your gift list is a copy of my book, Portable Writing, available for $16.95 (plus shipping and handling) online at http://www.booklocker.com/books/2461.html. You can also order copies of Portable Writing directly from me by sending a check for $21.00 (includes shipping and handling) to my Cottonwood address, above.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
The Integration Crisis at Central High - continued
Occasionally some of us become a part of history against our wishes, while others willingly choose to participate in it. That may be the only way to view the integration crisis at Central High—those who chose to attend that year to secure their place in history, and those who would have preferred to finish the school year cloaked in anonymity.
I cannot know the motivation behind, or speak for the black students who chose to be part of that particular moment in history, but I do know they and their parents had a choice. Perhaps it was the guarantee of a paid college education? Or maybe it was simply the opportunity to play a role in one of this country's first and most significant civil rights struggles that prompted their participation. Whatever the motivation or reasons behind their decision to integrate Central that year, it had to happen sometime. Although we white students might not have agreed then, the time was right for black students to stand up and fight for rights that had been denied for way too long. And rather than looking back with shame that the struggle happened at all and was broadcast around the world, perhaps we should consider it as society’s shining hour that it was achieved with very little or no bloodshed. Not every civil rights struggle would go that smoothly.
I don’t know if there has ever been dialogue between the Central High black and white students since they reached adulthood and became able to view the events with the perspective of time. I moved away at 21 and have had little contact with anyone from Central since then. I do know that I would love to hear their stories—even include some of them in my blog if they were willing.
At that time and place in history, emotions ruled each of our reactions to the crisis. Fear, anxiety, anger, and the fact that we were typical self-centered teenagers probably kept us from embracing the role we white students played in the future of our nation’s race relations. But that is history now. People—especially teenagers—don’t always react to events in a dignified manner. Yet most of us were dignified enough to show up everyday, walk up those steps, and quietly go about getting our education regardless of what went on outside the building, and possibly even inside it at times.
As the year passed by, we kids continued to adjust to the changing situation. I believe that we behaved as well as could be expected of kids who had been brought up in a society where everything had been defined in terms of black and white. Most of us had never known anything but segregation. We didn’t invent it, and most of us realized it wasn’t right, but it was all we had ever known. The adjustment was traumatic, but we accepted integration because it was the law of the land.
Things finally settled down at school that year as the National Guard was nationalized and returned to the school to guard the black students. Television viewers and newspaper readers eventually became bored with the story. Troublemakers finally tired of standing on the corner waving signs and shouting after most of the media deserted them for more exciting stories. We made it through that year and more than 600 students managed to graduate in May.
The high schools in Little Rock closed in the fall of 1958 to prevent another troubling repeat of the previous year, and Central’s students became pawns in a political struggle as they scrambled to enter schools elsewhere so they could complete their education. Because government officials had a point to prove and didn’t care enough about education to provide Little Rock’s students with a public high school to attend, or to transport them out of town to another school, some dropped out. Childhood friends were separated as students sought their education wherever they could find it.
Central’s national championship football team was split up and destroyed that year, and students in line for scholarships had them snatched away. It was even more devastating to the graduating seniors than it had been to the seniors in 1957/58. No longer would they be graduating from one of the top academic schools in the country. They were truly “lost,” often graduating from out of town schools where they had few friends, or from hastily organized, small church affiliated high schools.
Schools finally reopened in the fall of 1959, so that what was left of the class of ’60 was able to regroup and graduate from Central. But it would not be the same.
Central in 1957/58 was the beginning of the civil rights movement. When the ‘60s dawned, cities around the country faced their own moral crises as they were forced by law to bus students to achieve racial equity. Citizens all over the nation were suddenly forced to reveal the dark underside of their personal prejudices when it came to race, poverty, and ensuring civil rights for everyone. Far-flung racial strife proved that racism wasn’t a “Little Rock” or “Southern” issue. Instead, racial disparity was a nationwide problem that would take years to remedy and caused divisions that have never completely healed.
Given a choice I would rather not have been a part of the 1957 crisis at Central High, but it had a positive effect on the remainder of my life. It made me realize that none of us can be complacent when it comes to ensuring that we treat all of our fellow humans as equals. The experience made me more thoughtful, more tolerant, and a more compassionate citizen than I might have been without the struggles that year.
Our being told to ignore the previous 200 years of history and embrace integration was somewhat similar to being raised on a South Pacific island and suddenly plopped down and forced to live in Iceland. They’re both islands, but the differences are profound. The sudden switch from absolute segregation to integration in 1957 was both dramatic and traumatic, and the situation required major adjustments. Most of us survived it intact. I cannot say that I regret having been a part of it.
I cannot know the motivation behind, or speak for the black students who chose to be part of that particular moment in history, but I do know they and their parents had a choice. Perhaps it was the guarantee of a paid college education? Or maybe it was simply the opportunity to play a role in one of this country's first and most significant civil rights struggles that prompted their participation. Whatever the motivation or reasons behind their decision to integrate Central that year, it had to happen sometime. Although we white students might not have agreed then, the time was right for black students to stand up and fight for rights that had been denied for way too long. And rather than looking back with shame that the struggle happened at all and was broadcast around the world, perhaps we should consider it as society’s shining hour that it was achieved with very little or no bloodshed. Not every civil rights struggle would go that smoothly.
I don’t know if there has ever been dialogue between the Central High black and white students since they reached adulthood and became able to view the events with the perspective of time. I moved away at 21 and have had little contact with anyone from Central since then. I do know that I would love to hear their stories—even include some of them in my blog if they were willing.
At that time and place in history, emotions ruled each of our reactions to the crisis. Fear, anxiety, anger, and the fact that we were typical self-centered teenagers probably kept us from embracing the role we white students played in the future of our nation’s race relations. But that is history now. People—especially teenagers—don’t always react to events in a dignified manner. Yet most of us were dignified enough to show up everyday, walk up those steps, and quietly go about getting our education regardless of what went on outside the building, and possibly even inside it at times.
As the year passed by, we kids continued to adjust to the changing situation. I believe that we behaved as well as could be expected of kids who had been brought up in a society where everything had been defined in terms of black and white. Most of us had never known anything but segregation. We didn’t invent it, and most of us realized it wasn’t right, but it was all we had ever known. The adjustment was traumatic, but we accepted integration because it was the law of the land.
Things finally settled down at school that year as the National Guard was nationalized and returned to the school to guard the black students. Television viewers and newspaper readers eventually became bored with the story. Troublemakers finally tired of standing on the corner waving signs and shouting after most of the media deserted them for more exciting stories. We made it through that year and more than 600 students managed to graduate in May.
The high schools in Little Rock closed in the fall of 1958 to prevent another troubling repeat of the previous year, and Central’s students became pawns in a political struggle as they scrambled to enter schools elsewhere so they could complete their education. Because government officials had a point to prove and didn’t care enough about education to provide Little Rock’s students with a public high school to attend, or to transport them out of town to another school, some dropped out. Childhood friends were separated as students sought their education wherever they could find it.
Central’s national championship football team was split up and destroyed that year, and students in line for scholarships had them snatched away. It was even more devastating to the graduating seniors than it had been to the seniors in 1957/58. No longer would they be graduating from one of the top academic schools in the country. They were truly “lost,” often graduating from out of town schools where they had few friends, or from hastily organized, small church affiliated high schools.
Schools finally reopened in the fall of 1959, so that what was left of the class of ’60 was able to regroup and graduate from Central. But it would not be the same.
Central in 1957/58 was the beginning of the civil rights movement. When the ‘60s dawned, cities around the country faced their own moral crises as they were forced by law to bus students to achieve racial equity. Citizens all over the nation were suddenly forced to reveal the dark underside of their personal prejudices when it came to race, poverty, and ensuring civil rights for everyone. Far-flung racial strife proved that racism wasn’t a “Little Rock” or “Southern” issue. Instead, racial disparity was a nationwide problem that would take years to remedy and caused divisions that have never completely healed.
Given a choice I would rather not have been a part of the 1957 crisis at Central High, but it had a positive effect on the remainder of my life. It made me realize that none of us can be complacent when it comes to ensuring that we treat all of our fellow humans as equals. The experience made me more thoughtful, more tolerant, and a more compassionate citizen than I might have been without the struggles that year.
Our being told to ignore the previous 200 years of history and embrace integration was somewhat similar to being raised on a South Pacific island and suddenly plopped down and forced to live in Iceland. They’re both islands, but the differences are profound. The sudden switch from absolute segregation to integration in 1957 was both dramatic and traumatic, and the situation required major adjustments. Most of us survived it intact. I cannot say that I regret having been a part of it.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
REMEMBERING THE '50s - The Integration Crisis at Central High
Since the integration crisis at Little Rock Central High has been in the news so much recently, I decided to cover that era today. I was there that September morning 50 years ago. I was one of the 2000 or so white students who suddenly had our world turned upside down by a decision to make our school an “example” in the South. We weren’t asked our opinion, because we were just kids. But we were forced to face the grown-up horrors of racist protesters and constant bomb threats against our school, no matter that we were kids.
The decade of the ‘50s and the integration crisis is covered thoroughly in my book, Looking Back, but I’ll attempt to help blog readers understand what it was like to be the center of media attention when, as students, all we wanted to do was enjoy our high school days like every other high school kid in America.
First of all, I knew in my heart that the Brown vs. Board of Education Supreme Court Ruling was right in trying to equalize education for white and black students. And we all realized it would happen sometime, but I guess we hoped it would happen first somewhere else. Perhaps a grade school, or a school in a smaller town that would lack facilities for protestors and the media to gather. Just somewhere else besides our school. We weren’t prepared for it. And we weren’t offered a choice.
That first day, the governor decided to call in the National Guard to keep order, but instead they showed up to keep the black students from entering the school. That was the first mistake in a long list of political maneuvers that created a bully pulpit for the extremists on both sides of the argument. It only grew worse from that point on.
The media made a nuisance of itself trying to find stories that didn’t exist, and probably was most responsible for stirring up unrest among protestors, most of them adults and many of them not even from the State of Arkansas. They were mostly the same troublemakers who always stand ready to demonstrate their ignorance, shouting out their opinions in hopes of getting their 15 minutes of fame on television screens or in the newspaper. That’s what drove news coverage during those turbulent days, and still does today.
I can’t say the black students didn’t suffer discrimination when they finally were admitted into school with the backing of the 101st Airborne Division of the U.S. Army. There may have been shoves and insults hurled their way. But I can honestly say that I never saw any acts of violence, and I don’t know how they could have been threatened or harmed when they were each surrounded by guards every time I saw them. Still, I can understand deep emotional wounds from not feeling welcome.
I do admit that most of us didn’t talk with them or make them feel welcome, but it had nothing to do with intolerance or racism. It had everything to do with our being afraid of violence against ourselves if we so much as smiled at them or spoke to them. Who might see us and seek retaliation? Fear motivated most of us to simply ignore them as if they didn't exist.
And it wasn't some sort of conspiracy to ignore them. You see, we kids didn’t discuss the situation back then. We had been taught to be respectful, to obey the rules and to keep our feelings to ourselves. So we didn’t know who was racist and who wasn’t, or even if there were racists among the students. Statistics tell me that it’s likely there were, but there was no way of knowing back then. And yes, we had armed guards standing every few feet down the hall, but that didn’t make us white students feel any safer. Instead, their rifles and bayonets terrified most of us. We went about the business of getting our education, hoping we would wake up one morning and find the problems had all gone away.
I’ll continue this story in my next post here.
The decade of the ‘50s and the integration crisis is covered thoroughly in my book, Looking Back, but I’ll attempt to help blog readers understand what it was like to be the center of media attention when, as students, all we wanted to do was enjoy our high school days like every other high school kid in America.
First of all, I knew in my heart that the Brown vs. Board of Education Supreme Court Ruling was right in trying to equalize education for white and black students. And we all realized it would happen sometime, but I guess we hoped it would happen first somewhere else. Perhaps a grade school, or a school in a smaller town that would lack facilities for protestors and the media to gather. Just somewhere else besides our school. We weren’t prepared for it. And we weren’t offered a choice.
That first day, the governor decided to call in the National Guard to keep order, but instead they showed up to keep the black students from entering the school. That was the first mistake in a long list of political maneuvers that created a bully pulpit for the extremists on both sides of the argument. It only grew worse from that point on.
The media made a nuisance of itself trying to find stories that didn’t exist, and probably was most responsible for stirring up unrest among protestors, most of them adults and many of them not even from the State of Arkansas. They were mostly the same troublemakers who always stand ready to demonstrate their ignorance, shouting out their opinions in hopes of getting their 15 minutes of fame on television screens or in the newspaper. That’s what drove news coverage during those turbulent days, and still does today.
I can’t say the black students didn’t suffer discrimination when they finally were admitted into school with the backing of the 101st Airborne Division of the U.S. Army. There may have been shoves and insults hurled their way. But I can honestly say that I never saw any acts of violence, and I don’t know how they could have been threatened or harmed when they were each surrounded by guards every time I saw them. Still, I can understand deep emotional wounds from not feeling welcome.
I do admit that most of us didn’t talk with them or make them feel welcome, but it had nothing to do with intolerance or racism. It had everything to do with our being afraid of violence against ourselves if we so much as smiled at them or spoke to them. Who might see us and seek retaliation? Fear motivated most of us to simply ignore them as if they didn't exist.
And it wasn't some sort of conspiracy to ignore them. You see, we kids didn’t discuss the situation back then. We had been taught to be respectful, to obey the rules and to keep our feelings to ourselves. So we didn’t know who was racist and who wasn’t, or even if there were racists among the students. Statistics tell me that it’s likely there were, but there was no way of knowing back then. And yes, we had armed guards standing every few feet down the hall, but that didn’t make us white students feel any safer. Instead, their rifles and bayonets terrified most of us. We went about the business of getting our education, hoping we would wake up one morning and find the problems had all gone away.
I’ll continue this story in my next post here.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
CONTEST HAS TWO WINNERS!
There were two winners to the history quiz, Rev. Barry Zavah and Michelle London. Michelle entered the contest after seeing it mentioned at writersweekly.com and was the first one from that location with the correct answers. I was pleased to see so many readers answer the quiz correctly, and so quickly!
Watch this site for announcements of future contests. Maybe you'll win next time.
Watch this site for announcements of future contests. Maybe you'll win next time.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Remembering the '60s
History is a funny thing. One day you’re young and have no concept of the meaning of “history.” Then one day you wake up and realize you are history (and I mean that in the kindest way).
While you’ve been living your life, important events have been taking place that will someday be written about in the past tense for future generations to read. And suddenly one day you realize that day is now!
The other day I heard an “old” song that once had so much meaning to the baby boomer generation, titled (I think) “Put a Little Love in Your Heart.” The song was about how the world would be a better place if we all helped look after our fellow man with love in our hearts.
Wow, what a concept! What has happened to that ideal? Where did all the love go? Are those who believed in that concept now dead and gone, or have their hearts been hardened by the daily routine of their lives, or the arrogance of all the elected officials who failed to consider love of their fellow man as a viable alternative to war?
As I wrote in Looking Back, the late ‘40s and early ‘50s were the age of innocence, but I don’t recall that we were thinking much about helping our fellow men. Life was good, and the times were relatively safe and prosperous. I doubt that it entered the minds of those of us born in the ‘40s until our attention was drawn to it later that there were people who were downtrodden, who lacked civil rights or enough money to feed themselves or their kids. We were doing okay, so why shouldn’t the rest of America do just as well? Our attitudes were based more on lack of knowledge (naiveté) than arrogance.
Sometime in the mid-to-late ‘50s, a few began to drop out of society. They became “beatniks” who hung out in coffee houses in places like San Francisco and the Village in New York City, and who wrote and sang songs of angst. Did they have a cause—a higher purpose for their actions? Or were they simply a little too preoccupied with their own belly button? I don’t know. Growing up in Little Rock, Arkansas, I knew little about these early rebels.
I didn’t realize that as a typical teenager who embraced rock ‘n’ roll (the devil’s) music, I like many others of my peers were actually beginning to display subtle acts of rebellion against our parent’s generation and their safe, complacent lifestyles.
That rock ‘n’ roll generation laid the groundwork for the hippie generation—those youngsters who would come of age throughout the ‘60s and on into the early ‘70s and realize that the world their parents had brought them up in wasn’t as perfect as it seemed.
The ‘60s were many things to Americans. To the young, they were exciting times when they could become free spirits and experiment with lifestyle choices that would have turned their parents’ hair gray. It was a time of inclusion and “love.” How charming it was to watch a barefoot hippie dressed in ragged and dirty clothes on the sidewalks of San Francisco walk up to a businessman dressed in a suit and hand him a flower and utter the word, “Peace.” The innocence of those young people as they attempted to change society was an eye-opening experience for those of us who witnessed it, and frightening to those who worried about how these “dead-beat drop-outs” would someday run our country.
Parents watched obedient youngsters change from respectful to rebellious—determined to turn society on its head. The youngsters were fed up with the injustice that pervaded society. At the same time, they were seduced by the sexual freedom offered by the birth control pill, and by street drugs that could numb their minds while unleashing emotions that were previously unknown to them.
Not everything about those years was wonderful, and I often wonder what happened to the young people so full of hope who shouted “make love, not war.” Did love for fellow man turn to fear while witnessing a President, a civil rights leader, and a Presidential candidate get assassinated during the decade of the ‘60s? Did love turn to contempt as they watched government officials hell-bent on remaking the rest of the world in our own image? Or did love simply die because it was hard to maintain the level of trust for mankind that was required for that kind of universal love?
The book Looking Back doesn’t attempt to answer any of those questions, but it does look at the ‘60s and remembers why the decade will be remembered fondly by some, and disgustedly by others. It was and is history, and is chronicled by those who lived through it, who had their own individual, personal part in, and reactions to the times.
This book is history as it should be remembered. It is not written by history textbook writers who think it is only important that basic, dry facts be included. Instead it is written by people who lived it, who had strong emotions about it, and who managed to survive the decade of the ‘60s, and those following it.
Every American should have a vested interest in the history of our extraordinary country, including recent events from the ‘40s to today. Hopefully, this personal approach to telling about history will prompt more Americans to read about it and enjoy the amazing journey back into time.
While you’ve been living your life, important events have been taking place that will someday be written about in the past tense for future generations to read. And suddenly one day you realize that day is now!
The other day I heard an “old” song that once had so much meaning to the baby boomer generation, titled (I think) “Put a Little Love in Your Heart.” The song was about how the world would be a better place if we all helped look after our fellow man with love in our hearts.
Wow, what a concept! What has happened to that ideal? Where did all the love go? Are those who believed in that concept now dead and gone, or have their hearts been hardened by the daily routine of their lives, or the arrogance of all the elected officials who failed to consider love of their fellow man as a viable alternative to war?
As I wrote in Looking Back, the late ‘40s and early ‘50s were the age of innocence, but I don’t recall that we were thinking much about helping our fellow men. Life was good, and the times were relatively safe and prosperous. I doubt that it entered the minds of those of us born in the ‘40s until our attention was drawn to it later that there were people who were downtrodden, who lacked civil rights or enough money to feed themselves or their kids. We were doing okay, so why shouldn’t the rest of America do just as well? Our attitudes were based more on lack of knowledge (naiveté) than arrogance.
Sometime in the mid-to-late ‘50s, a few began to drop out of society. They became “beatniks” who hung out in coffee houses in places like San Francisco and the Village in New York City, and who wrote and sang songs of angst. Did they have a cause—a higher purpose for their actions? Or were they simply a little too preoccupied with their own belly button? I don’t know. Growing up in Little Rock, Arkansas, I knew little about these early rebels.
I didn’t realize that as a typical teenager who embraced rock ‘n’ roll (the devil’s) music, I like many others of my peers were actually beginning to display subtle acts of rebellion against our parent’s generation and their safe, complacent lifestyles.
That rock ‘n’ roll generation laid the groundwork for the hippie generation—those youngsters who would come of age throughout the ‘60s and on into the early ‘70s and realize that the world their parents had brought them up in wasn’t as perfect as it seemed.
The ‘60s were many things to Americans. To the young, they were exciting times when they could become free spirits and experiment with lifestyle choices that would have turned their parents’ hair gray. It was a time of inclusion and “love.” How charming it was to watch a barefoot hippie dressed in ragged and dirty clothes on the sidewalks of San Francisco walk up to a businessman dressed in a suit and hand him a flower and utter the word, “Peace.” The innocence of those young people as they attempted to change society was an eye-opening experience for those of us who witnessed it, and frightening to those who worried about how these “dead-beat drop-outs” would someday run our country.
Parents watched obedient youngsters change from respectful to rebellious—determined to turn society on its head. The youngsters were fed up with the injustice that pervaded society. At the same time, they were seduced by the sexual freedom offered by the birth control pill, and by street drugs that could numb their minds while unleashing emotions that were previously unknown to them.
Not everything about those years was wonderful, and I often wonder what happened to the young people so full of hope who shouted “make love, not war.” Did love for fellow man turn to fear while witnessing a President, a civil rights leader, and a Presidential candidate get assassinated during the decade of the ‘60s? Did love turn to contempt as they watched government officials hell-bent on remaking the rest of the world in our own image? Or did love simply die because it was hard to maintain the level of trust for mankind that was required for that kind of universal love?
The book Looking Back doesn’t attempt to answer any of those questions, but it does look at the ‘60s and remembers why the decade will be remembered fondly by some, and disgustedly by others. It was and is history, and is chronicled by those who lived through it, who had their own individual, personal part in, and reactions to the times.
This book is history as it should be remembered. It is not written by history textbook writers who think it is only important that basic, dry facts be included. Instead it is written by people who lived it, who had strong emotions about it, and who managed to survive the decade of the ‘60s, and those following it.
Every American should have a vested interest in the history of our extraordinary country, including recent events from the ‘40s to today. Hopefully, this personal approach to telling about history will prompt more Americans to read about it and enjoy the amazing journey back into time.
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