Chants of “Pass the John Lewis Voting Act” rang out as people shouted proudly and loudly. Step by step, I crossed the Selma Bridge holding a sign that read “Pass the John Lewis Voting Right Act” in my hands. I was in Selma, Alabama, on a Civil Rights Trail Trip with my high school. The journey down south was life-changing and perspective-altering for me. I still remember my reaction to visiting the National Memorial for Peace and Justice.
Massive red stone blocks hung from the ceiling by metal rods, each representing a county where people were lynched. I couldn’t even begin to count how many boulders were there, but I knew it had to be in the hundreds. My feet felt heavy as I walked down the path, my eyes glancing at the dozens of names and dates etched on each stone block. My hands traced over the names, feeling each bump and divot. The word “unknown” was etched over and over again. I couldn’t imagine how many people died without their names recorded – how many lives were lost to lynching, something we could never fully account for. One steel plate stood out to me – the story of Henry Smith. He was lynched in front of a crowd of 10,000 people, as they picnicked with their children and collected souvenirs in the form of human remains. I had read history books about slavery and lynching, but it wasn’t until I came face to face with this monument and the stories of lynching, that I began to grasp how horrible it was. After visiting that memorial, I began to confront the history of America in a new way.
A few days later, I visited other museums, learning about the Freedom Riders and activists like Martin Luther King Jr., Bernard Lafayette, Rosa Parks, and others who bravely stood on the front lines to fight for voting rights – despite being threatened, beaten, and jailed. The Selma Bridge Crossing is both a call to action and a commemoration of the efforts of civil rights activists and the events on Bloody Sunday. As I walked across that bridge, seeing people from different backgrounds, and hearing the chants for voting rights ring in my ear, I joined in. Marching across that bridge, I felt the urgency of the ongoing fight for voting rights and the weight of Bloody Sunday’s history.
There is still so much work to be done, but every time I think back to crossing the bridge and the people around me, I am filled with hope for our future because we represent a community of people tirelessly fighting for our rights and justice. When I returned to Seattle, the image of the bridge crossing remains vivid in my mind. I continued my environmental and civil advocacy work, knowing how fortunate I am to do so without being beaten for protesting. This trip was a life-changing experience for me as I confronted the brutal history of America, saw the reality of the lynchings, and marched hand in hand across the bridge with the hope that together, we could create a more inclusive and just society.
Student: XinTong He
Age & Grade: 17 Years Old/11th Grade
School: Garfield High School
From: Seattle, WA
Photo courtesy of XinTong He.
