Learning about the Civil Rights Movement used to make me feel uncomfortable as a white person and hearing about what appalling things white people did before me. I have to remind myself that there were few whites that did stand up for what was right. The two sides of my family both are from the south but the different ways they were involved in the civil rights are profoundly different.
My mom’s family lived in Tuscaloosa, Alabama and my grandfather, Reverend Robert Keever, was a Presbyterian Minister. He is one of the main reasons I am taking this class. My grandfather allowed blacks to attend his services and helped black students from the University of Alabama study when nobody else would. As a result of all his actions one night while my young mother and her siblings were home the Ku Klux Klan threw bricks into the windows of their home and lit a burning cross in their front yard. This did not stop my grandparents. They did not care that they were the only white people at the demonstrations downtown. I am immensely proud of what they did to stand for what they believed in.
The other side of my family grew up in Albany, Georgia. This side of the family I know is and was part of the problem. None of them are educated past a high school diploma and have lived in Albany all their life. They do not know what life is like outside that small little town. When we learn about Albany in-class part of me cringes at the thought of what they did and how they handled things. Then I take a second and remind myself that they need to be held accountable for their actions. It becomes difficult to love your family but still be ashamed of them at the same time. My dad got out of the toxic environment as fast as he could. There still is a large divide down the middle of the town, it is almost like the different sides of the railroad tracks. This side of my family is known to make cringeworthy comments about race. When I was younger I was too young and scared to call them out but now I have no problem questioning my grandparents. They are “stuck in their ways” but this is not something that they get to get away with.
This dynamic is really interesting to me, the racist side of the family and the progressive side of the family, and how the two parts shaped your identity and understanding of race. With that in mind, it seems reasonable to be uncomfortable talking about the Civil Rights Movement, knowing that your relatives were (and remain) on the wrong side of history. At the same time, it seems that you have great role models to look to in your maternal grandparents.
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