by Autumn L. Johnson
For New Pittsburgh Courier
I harbor no illusions about the struggle to eradicate systemic racism within the United States. But I remain undeterred just as my grandmother did when she eagerly joined marchers led by the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. in Selma, Ala., to ensure the passage of the 1965 Voting Rights Act.
Her motivation: Her parents had been denied the right to vote through racist Jim Crow laws, including the ridiculous requirement of reciting the U.S. Constitution to gain a spot at the voting booth. Additionally, my grandmother felt compelled to join the Civil Rights Movement because she wanted a better life for herself and other Black people who had been educated in older school buildings and taught by teachers who only had access to outdated textbooks.
Furthermore, she was incensed that her father, a superb bricklayer, had been subjected to such injustices, even though he played an integral role in building Selma Memorial Hospital.
“This is 1965, not 1865!” she often exclaimed in frustration about her racist environment.
My great-grandparents feared for my grandmother’s life as she, her cousin and best friend joined marches that were organized at the historic Brown Chapel AME Church, where Dr. King outlined the guidelines for peaceful protests. The marchers were also keenly aware of dangers that lurked: they could be blasted with fire hoses, attacked by vicious dogs or sent to jail. My grandmother’s high school principal had gotten word that she was participating in the protests and even threatened to withhold her high school diploma.
Undeterred, my grandmother marched on, but everything did not go as smoothly as she had hoped. Her best friend was blasted with a water hose and needed oxygen. My grandmother was visibly upset by the incident, and after learning that her friend would be alright, she pressed on like so many others in the movement. Her friend even encouraged my grandmother to go on, despite the trauma she had endured.
My grandmother’s courage and determination paid off when, a few months after she graduated from high school, President Lyndon B. Johnson signed the 1965 Voting Rights Act into law, prohibiting racial discrimination in voting.
Later, she moved to Pittsburgh where she raised her two children and spent more than 40 years working as a nurse at Allegheny General Hospital.
Fast forward to 2020, and I, too, remain undeterred as I march in the Black Lives Matter movement. The injustices that Black people face are not that far removed from the 1960s when my grandmother marched. The police are called on us for frivolous reasons: bird-watching, swimming and running, among others. Additionally, the U.S. Supreme Court gutted the Voting Rights Act, strengthening voter suppression.
Moreover, police brutality continues to disproportionately affect the Black community. Although Black people make up 13 percent of the U.S. population, they accounted for 28 percent of deaths by police since 2013, according to Mapping Police Violence, a research collaborative collecting comprehensive data on police killings nationwide to quantify the impact of police violence in communities. George Floyd, Breonna Taylor and Elijah McClain are just a few of the countless people of color who were unarmed and died at the hands of police. Justice needs to be served in these cases, as well as untold others. It is also my hope that the police receive the training they need to better serve diverse communities.
Meanwhile, I will not give up doing my part to eradicate systemic racism in America. I know that I am not alone in this fight. I remain inspired by my grandmother and the legacies of Dr. King, Rosa Parks, Dorothy Height, the late Congressman John Lewis and C.T. Vivian, and countless others who were unsung heroes in the movement. I’m also heartened by the diversity of the protesters throughout the world, including people who have marched in Washington, D.C. and in my community of Columbia, Md. The sense of community among the marchers gives me hope that, together, we can make a real difference in this struggle.
I know that, in addition to marching, I must remain committed to voting in each and every election. My grandmother and so many others put their lives on the line so that I could have that right. And I do not take it for granted. Again, I am not naïve about the work it will take to end systemic racism in the United States. But I remain encouraged based on what my grandmother and so many other civil rights advocates were able to accomplish before me.
(Autumn L. Johnson, who was born in Pittsburgh, is a nursing student at Morgan State University, an HBCU in Baltimore. Her grandmother, Lois Brazil-Lowman, lives in Manchester.)
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