Freedom Really Isn't Free

My husband and I took a road trip to visit the sites of the Civil Rights Movement in the South. As a child in the sixties, I remember being schooled by my parents on how to act when going to visit my relatives in South Carolina so that I could return home safely. Emmitt Till’s death was a reminder to all black parents that hatred and bigotry was irrespective of age; and not saying “yes sir” and “no sir,” or thinking you can shop where whites shopped, or eating where they ate, or drink from their fountains, or swim in their pools could cost you your life.

Although young, I remember the first March on Washington and looking up at my mom who was crying as Dr. King talked about his dream. Taking that road trip allowed me to step back in time and remember the sacrifices and struggles of a people who just wanted to be free to be, and do, what God created them to be and do; free to enjoy the simple pleasures of walking down any street at any time and not have to worry about being raped or lynched; free to pay your money to ride public transportation and sit wherever you wanted and not have to pay, get off the bus and walk to the back door to board, hoping the driver wouldn’t pull off before you got on; or free to live where you want and not worry that your home would be bombed or torched; or free to live in a country that judged you by “the content of your character and not the color of your skin.

Freedom has not been free. The freedom that we have has been paid for by the blood, sweat, tears, and lives of our ancestors; both black and some white. As we celebrate Black History Month, let’s not only remember the great leaders, legends, liberators, inventors, and trails blazers of our race who shared their genius with us and fought to help make this country great; but let’s also remember the countless other men and women of color whose names may never be in a book but stood up for the cause of freedom knowing it could cost them their lives. Let’s celebrate those who had their heads bashed open and bodies bloodied because they believed in every man being free the way God intended them to be. Let’s celebrate and emulate their courage to stand for what is right. They believed and had faith in a God of justice who would see their plight, hear their pleas, and deliver them.

It’s good to look back and remember a proud and determined people who are the bridge that “brought us thus far on our way.” Let’s commit to telling our children about that bridge; and our children’s children, and their children so that we too NEVER FORGET; freedom wasn’t and isn’t… free.

Peace and Blessings,

Gail