**This is part of an email that my mom sent out this morning.
I loved reading it and got permission to share.**
Jordan, just letting you know that you were there. You might have looked like an almond or something, but you were there for the commemorative march.
Thirty years ago today, my husband and I celebrated our first anniversary on a charter bus with a group from the American Friends Service Committee, a Quaker group, headed to DC to attend the 20th Commemorative March on Washington. I was 2 months pregnant and am lucky I did not miscarry because it was 105 degrees in the shade. People were dropping like flies. I credit popsicles and the two 2-liter bottles of water I carried in my backpack.
It was a bittersweet day for me. I was a young idealistic woman who was naïve enough to think that everyone in attendance was on the same page, joined in unity and moving forward to break down barriers. I was disheartened to find that this was not true. The ones who made this most clear were the ones for whom we were marching. I don’t fault them; I realize their battle was a tougher one than mine and, now, I realize the power of White Privilege and the benefits I’ve had just by being born white. It breaks my heart.
In fifth grade, I learned about the Melting Pot and fell in love with the notion that we were all one. Young, naïve, and hopeful.
I am still filled with that hope and am fighting the good fight.
Though it may sound like it, this email response is not about me. [This] email just caused me to wax nostalgic. I pray we move forward. For our kids’s sake, I hope we move forward.
Some photos from that day.
My beautiful momma.