August 29, 2013
By Kevin Liptak
CNN Wire Service
A jury’s decision in July to acquit George Zimmerman in the murder of Trayvon Martin represented “questionable judgment,” former Secretary of State Colin Powell said in an interview aired Sunday.
But the retired four-star general, who was the first African-American to serve in the top U.S. diplomatic post, went on to suggest the case wouldn’t have a lasting impact on Americans’ lives.
“I don’t know if it will have staying power,” he said on CBS’s “Face the Nation.”
“These cases come along, and they blaze across the midnight sky and then after a period of time, they’re forgotten,” he said.
Zimmerman, a neighborhood watch volunteer who fatally shot Martin in February 2012, was acquitted by a jury in July on state criminal charges. The case sparked a nationwide discussion of race. Martin was an unarmed black teenager, and Zimmerman identifies himself as Hispanic.
After the verdict, President Barack Obama delivered a personal statement about the case, delving deeply into issues of race and justice, and connecting the difficulties facing American-American men to situations he himself had faced.
Powell said Sunday he’d like Obama to “be more passionate about race questions.”
“In my lifetime, over a long career in public life, you know, I’ve been refused access to restaurants where I couldn’t eat, even though I just came back from Vietnam. ‘We can’t give you a hamburger, come back some other time,’” Powell said, adding that while progress has been made toward racial equality, there is still work to be done.
“We’re not there yet,” he said. “And so we’ve got to keep working on it. And for the president to speak out on it is appropriate. I think all leaders, black and white, should speak out on this issue.”
August 29, 2013
By Xavier Higgs
LAWT Contributing Writer
It was probably the most famous mass rally in U.S. history.
A defining moment in the American civil rights movement came in the midst of the long hot summer of 1963, the “March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom,” was a pivotal point for social change in America.
The March on Washington transformed the political climate of this nation. A crowd of more than 250,000 people gathered for the largest demonstration ever seen in the nation's capital. The rally at the National Mall included the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., who gave his “I Have A Dream” speech.
The march received extensive media attention, including live international television coverage. The mass protest helped strengthen the most critical social legislation in the nation’s history and was followed by the passage of the landmark Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the 1965 Voting Rights Act.
1963 was noted for racial unrest and civil rights demonstrations. A nationwide outrage was sparked by media coverage of police actions against protesters in Birmingham, Alabama and the Ku Klux Klan bombing of the 16th Street Baptist Church.
Simeon Booker, first black staff reporter for the Washington Post, was a reporter for Ebony and Jet magazine during the march.
“It was a very inspiring experience,” says Booker.
In retrospect he said it was a terrific assignment.
“But it was a very unusual event and momentous occasion,’ said Booker.
In his book, “Shocking The Conscience, A Report’s Account of the Civil Rights Movement”, he remembers the fears that preceded the march was never realized.
Not everybody who attended the march was fully aware of its significance. It's been a 50 years since Elmer B. Redding, 62, who lived in Baltimore was taken by his father to Washington D.C.
At 11 years old, he had no idea about the march until his father insisted on attending.
“It’s a historical event” he needed to see. Redding recalls, “Where there was grass there were people. We push our way as close to the Lincoln Memorial as we could.”
He also remembered hearing Mahalia Jackson singing.
But as Martin Luther King, Jr. was introduced there was calm that settled over the crowd. “People gave direct attention to what was going on,” Says Redding. He did not understand what was going on.
Carol Redding, 65, Elmer’s wife grew up in D.C says she also “remembers how mesmerize everybody seem to be as Dr. King spoke.
Meanwhile the march highlighted unrealized goals.
Between 1955 and 1962, African Americans were determined through immense campaigns aimed at dismantling segregation, and the demand for federal civil rights legislation. These efforts were stalled due to political avoidance by the John F. Kennedy administration, southern segregationist influence, and northern apathy.
Dr. Terrence Roberts, one of the Little Rock Nine, was 22 years old in 1963. Since the Littler Rock incident in 1957 the country was beginning to see the emergence of the new civil rights movement.
“It was my understanding that this fight for equality had taken on new life,” says Dr. Roberts.
At that time people were beginning to question the status quo and finding new ways of building opportunities for more people.
Although he didn’t understand at the time, he concludes, “racism isn’t the biggest problem. The biggest problem is the advantage taken by people for their own economic benefit.”
He adds that being in Little Rock or Los Angeles didn’t make any difference because the situation was virtually the same.“It was always the have’s, mainly white, and the have not’s, the people of color.”
As it turns out, the march became more of a show of solidarity and hope, and became the impetus of a long line of Americans taking social change to the streets.
August 29, 2013
By Kevin Liptak
CNN News Wire
WASHINGTON — Heralding the long fight toward racial equality that many say hasn’t ended, President Barack Obama commemorated the 50th anniversary of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech Wednesday on the same steps the civil rights leader spoke from half a century ago.
“His words belong to the ages, possessing a power and prophecy unmatched in our time,” Obama told a diverse crowd that gathered under gray skies and intermittent drizzle to attend the hours-long ceremony.
King, Obama said, “gave mighty voice to the quiet hopes of millions,” hailing leaders who braved intimidation and violence in their fight for equal rights.
On that August day in 1963, when King and his fellow marchers attended what he labeled “the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation,” few in that crowd could have imagined that half a century later, an African-American president of the United States would mark the occasion with a speech in the same location.
And during his remarks from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, Obama cast his own election to the Oval Office as a consequence of persistence and courage from leaders such as King.
“Because they kept marching, America changed,” Obama said. “Because they marched, city councils changed and state legislatures changed and Congress changed and, yes, eventually, the White House changed.”
While other, negative changes have forestalled the push toward racial harmony, Obama stressed Wednesday that the work of civil rights leaders had permanently changed the discourse between races in America.
“To dismiss the magnitude of this process, to suggest, as some sometimes do, that little has changed, that dishonors the courage and the sacrifice of those who paid the price to march in those years,” Obama said.
Adopting words from another of King’s speeches, Obama declared that “the arc of the moral universe may bend toward justice, but it doesn’t bend on its own.”
Leaders speaking at Wednesday’s anniversary event, including Obama, stressed that income disparity, high unemployment and a shrinking middle class have slashed hopes for attaining equality for millions of Americans, though the president said those facts couldn't erase the forward march of the civil rights movement.
“To secure the gains this country has made requires constant vigilance, not complacency,” he said, adding, “We will suffer the occasional setback, but we will win these fights. This country has changed too much.”
In an interview after the speech, he said he wished his policies had done more to improve the gap between those who have wealth and those who do not.
“It certainly weighs on me,” he told PBS. “In my first term, essentially, my job was to make sure, as you said, that the economy didn’t just completely collapse.”
Other speakers Wednesday marked the great progress toward King’s goal of racial accord, though many suggested that the dream was far from realized, specifically citing voter identification laws that critics say prevent African-Americans from casting ballots, and the verdict in the closely watched Trayvon Martin murder trial.
“We have come a great distance in this country in the 50 years. But we still have a great distance to go before we fulfill the dream of Martin Luther King Jr.,” said U.S. Rep. John Lewis, D-Georgia, adding that progress toward King’s goal could be marked by his own election to Congress.
“But there are still invisible signs, barriers in the hearts of humankind that form a gulf between us,” said Lewis, the only speaker from the 1963 march who also spoke Wednesday.
Another leader from King’s era of the civil rights movement, Myrlie Evers-Williams, said the United States had “certainly taken a turn backwards” in the quest for civil rights.
Two former presidents also delivered remarks Wednesday, each representing a distinct era in the movement for equal rights in America. President Jimmy Carter, speaking ahead of Obama, asserted that recent developments in American policy would have disappointed King.
“I believe we all know how Dr. King would have reacted to the new ID requirements to exclude certain voters, especially African-Americans,” said Carter, a Democrat. “I think we all know how Dr. King would have reacted to the Supreme Court striking down a crucial part of the Voting Rights Act just recently passed overwhelmingly by Congress.”
And another Democratic president, Bill Clinton, argued during his speech for working together against stalemates and inaction, saying King “did not live and die to hear his heirs whine about political gridlock.”
“It is time to stop complaining and put our shoulders against the stubborn gates holding the American people back,” Clinton said.
Neither of the living former Republican presidents attended Wednesday’s event. In fact, no elected Republican delivered remarks at the 50th anniversary commemoration. George H.W. Bush and his son George W. Bush both opted out, citing health concerns. The latter is recovering from a recent heart procedure.
Before Obama addressed the throngs gathered at the Lincoln Memorial, civil rights leaders past and present remembered the decades-long movement to secure equal treatment and rights for African-Americans.
The daughters of two presidents key to enacting the Civil Rights Act were also present: Lynda Johnson Robb and Caroline Kennedy, whom Obama recently nominated as ambassador to Japan.
Celebrities and entertainers at the event included Forest Whitaker and Oprah Winfrey, who star as husband and wife in one of the summer’s hottest movies, “Lee Daniels’ The Butler,” about life in the White House through the eyes of the (mostly black) hired help.
Winfrey declared that King had seen injustice and “refused to look the other way.”
“We, too, can be courageous by continuing to walk in the footsteps of the path that he forged,” Winfrey said.
Two musicians who performed at the 1963 march also sang Wednesday. Peter Yarrow and Paul Stookey, from the trio Peter, Paul and Mary, sang Bob Dylan's “Blowin’ in the Wind,” backed by Sybrina Fulton and Tracy Martin, the parents of Trayvon Martin, whose 2012 shooting death sparked a national conversation about race. Mary Travers, the third artist in the group, died in 2009.
Obama’s most personal remarks on race ahead of Wednesday’s speech came in the aftermath of the July verdict that found Martin’s killer not guilty.
In the crowd at the Lincoln Memorial, attendees used the occasion to remember where they were when they first heard King’s “I have a Dream” speech.
“I grew up in a segregated environment. I never met a white person till I was a junior in college,” said Betty Waller Gray, who traveled to Wednesday’s march from Richmond. “It was just so emotional to be here today after knowing where I was in 1963. I was just a kid finishing high school back then.”
Gilbert Lyons, an employee of the National Park Service, attended the original March on Washington half a decade ago and heard King utter his famous works in person.
“I went home with it in my head. I even spoke to my wife about it,” he said. “It stayed with me. And the more I heard about Martin Luther King, the more things he was doing, I said, ‘this man is great. He is a gentleman that can bring America back to themselves like they’re supposed to be.’ We’re not supposed to be this race and that race. We are Americans.”
CNN’s Joe Johns, Stacey Samuel, Athena Jones and Larry Lazo contributed to this report.
August 29, 2013
By John Blake
CNN Wire Service
There is a secret about Bernice King that not everyone close to her wants you to know.
“She has a shoe fetish,” says Angela Farris-Watkins, a cousin. “She has shoes to go with every outfit. She likes all kinds of shoes: sandals, heels, open-toed and different colors. She buys shoes like bread.”
It’s not surprising that the youngest child of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. would care so much about what she puts on her feet. She has been walking in the footsteps of one of history’s greatest moral leaders all of her life.
With the nation poised to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the March on Washington, the daughter of the dreamer seems to be stepping out of his shadow.
A guarded woman who once contemplated suicide, the Rev. Bernice King is openly confronting some of the painful and controversial episodes in her life. She is engaging in a flurry of interviews with journalists to mark the commemoration of her father’s most famous speech. Now 50, she was born just months before her father told the world, “I have a dream.”
She also is lowering some of the walls that she admits she erected over the years to protect herself from stinging criticism directed at her and her family.
“People just don’t know me, period,” she says. “The first tendency is to make a judgment. Part of that has to do with people feeling like I’m stoic, standoffish. Some people feel like I’m arrogant. It’s unfortunate because people don’t know my heart.”
For some, she is freeze-framed as the bewildered girl who rested her head on her mother’s lap at her father’s funeral in 1968. For others, she is one of the King children, accused of aggressively seeking to profit off their father’s legacy while embroiled in legal feuds with each other. Still others see her as the daughter who invoked her father’s legacy while marching against same-sex marriage.
In one of her most candid interviews, King talked with CNN about all of those episodes in her life.
It couldn’t have been easy for her. She sighed loudly at times at some questions and once flashed a hint of exasperation. To be so publicly vulnerable is not easy for a woman who carefully plans everything, even if it’s just walking to her mailbox, friends and family say.
“If you’re out among the people, and everybody thinks you belong to them and you've never met them, you, too, would walk a little quieter,” says another cousin, the Rev. Alveda King.
‘I have walls for a reason’
On a recent afternoon, King is walking into the spiritual birthplace of her family, Ebenezer Baptist Church. She is running 40 minutes late, and a crowd of photographers and onlookers — including several Buddhist monks — gather to watch.
Before she poses for photographs, King asks about the type of pictures that will be taken and mentions some earlier photos of her that she didn’t like.
Farris-Watkins, a psychology professor at Spelman College in Atlanta, says King is a “Type-A person” who is not comfortable with spontaneity.
“You can say, ‘Let’s go and do so and so’ on the spur of the moment, and she will rarely answer yes,” Farris-Watkins says. “She would rather have planned that.”
Even small gestures have to be planned, Farris-Watkins says.
“I don’t care if she’s just going to the mailbox,” she says, “she won’t come out unless she is in makeup and dressed.”
Unplanned moments have not been kind to King’s family. Sudden bursts of tragedy are part of her history. It goes beyond her father. Nestled in the basement of Ebenezer is a picture of her grandmother, Alberta Williams King. She was shot and killed by a gunman in 1974 while sitting at the church’s organ one Sunday. Bernice King’s uncle, the Rev. A.D. King, was found dead in his swimming pool a year after her father’s assassination.
There have been more recent losses. In 2006, her mother, Coretta Scott King, died from ovarian cancer. And only a year later, her only sister, Yolanda, a warm and vivacious woman who some say held the King children together, died suddenly of a heart attack at 52.
“I have walls for a reason,” she says. “When you grow up with the kind of tragedy we’ve grown up with, you’re cautious. I was 5 when he was assassinated. Some of the distrust and walls come up automatically. It’s kind of comes second nature. That probably bothers me the most.”
King has had to assume a resolute public face in the face of all these tragedies, says W. Imara Canady, a longtime friend and Atlanta regional office area director for the United Negro College Fund.
“Most of us get the opportunity to deal with tragedy privately,” Canady says. “I don’t know if she’s even had the space to grieve.”
Beyond the upcoming march commemoration, King is assuming a more public role for another reason: She was appointed chief executive officer of the King Center last year. She sees the King Center as an educational institution that teaches nonviolence, not an activist group that protests the burning issues of the day.
Still, she speaks bluntly about issues such as economic inequality and racial justice. She criticized the recent U.S. Supreme Court voting rights decision. The court voted 5-4 to essentially gut the mechanism in the 1965 Voting Rights Act that forced certain states to “pre-clear” or get prior approval from the federal government for any changes in voting procedures.
The Voting Rights Act was originally passed because of a bloody civil rights campaign that culminated in a march led by her father in Selma, Alabama, in 1965.
She says the court’s decision was a reminder that certain freedoms cannot be taken for granted.
“My mother used to say that struggle is a never-ending process,” she says. “You earn it and win it in every generation.”
Making money off the legacy
The upcoming commemoration of the March on Washington is a mixed bag for the King children. They have been criticized for demanding a licensing fee from the group that led the successful campaign to build a monument of their father on the Washington Mall.
Critics say they should not have charged any fee for those who wanted to honor their father’s legacy. Their point: Are the ancestors of Thomas Jefferson and Abraham Lincoln demanding money for their monuments?
“But Lincoln has been gone for 150 years,” she says. “We’re first generation who lost our parents, not our great, great, great, great grandfather.”
She has heard such criticism for years. People have complained that the King children are more concerned about making money off their father’s legacy than extending it.
If her family doesn’t actively protect her father’s image and likeness in the marketplace, she says, they will lose the ability to do so. She says the King family charged a licensing fee for the monument, but the huge sums bandied about are not true.
Then she turns the question back on those who would challenge the King family.
“Why does that matter? Why does it matter to you, whatever it is? We were deprived of our father. Had he been here, this wouldn’t be an issue. Our father gave a lot to America.”
Feuding with her brothers
Her relationship with her brothers, Dexter King and Martin Luther King III, has also been criticized. Over the years, the siblings have sued and counter-sued one another over their parents’ legacy.
When asked if she still talks to her brothers, she says, “Every now and then. We’re family.”
When asked to describe their current relationship, she says: “It’s OK.”
The tension among the King children is unfathomable to some. How can siblings who shared such a singular tragedy barely talk? She points to the children of South African leader Nelson Mandela, whose squabbling over their father’s legacy makes headlines overseas.
“My question would be for the people that can’t understand it is to look at their (own) families,” King says. “Every family — think about the Mandela family right now —every family has its challenges. We’re not immune. We’re not superhuman.”
She says some of the tension with her brothers may be rooted in gender.
“I’m the only female left in the family,” King says. “I was closer to my mother and sister. ... Women and men are different.”
When asked if she thinks she will ever become closer to her brothers, she says: “I don’t know. I would hope so.”
The ‘mistake’ march
Her father made history with marches, but one of Bernice King’s most controversial public episodes came when she helped lead a march herself.
It was 2004, and she and Bishop Eddie Long — senior pastor of an Atlanta megachurch — were leading a march against same-sex marriage. Long, who once said that blacks have to “forget” racism because they have already reached the Promised Land, carried a torch during the march. It had been lit at an eternal flame at Martin Luther King Jr.’s grave.
The march was widely criticized by followers of her father. They pointed out that King’s marches were about inclusion — not excluding a group of people. They noted that one of his closest aides was Bayard Rustin, a gay man who was instrumental in planning the March on Washington.
Bernice King, who was an elder in Long’s church at the time, later left the congregation after Long settled out of court with four young men who had accused him of coercing them into sexual relationships.
King sighed loudly when asked about the march.
“If I had to make the choice today,” she says, “it would be different.”
She says she participated because the march revolved around several issues — strengthening the black family; black youth trapped in the justice system — that were not highlighted by the media.
When asked how she feels about same-sex marriage, she says, “I wouldn’t say I’m against same-sex marriage. I believe in freedom and equality for all people. I believe that when it comes to gay marriage, that’s a political and legal issue that has to be dealt with in that arena. I have privately held beliefs, but when it comes to that, it’s properly placed in the political and legal arena.”
Running from a calling
King doesn’t belong to a church now. She visits and still accepts preaching engagements. When asked which contemporary pastors she admires, she mentions three whose ministries are very different from that of her father: Bishop T.D. Jakes, Andy Stanley and Joel Osteen.
All three are megachurch pastors who are not known for being “prophetic” like her father. Their ministries are more focused on personal growth and powerful messages than speaking truth to power.
The Rev. Timothy McDonald III, who was Bernice King’s youth pastor at Ebenezer, says it makes sense that she would admire them.
“She was angry at one point in her ministry that her father was killed fighting for social justice and feeling that his death had been unappreciated,” he says.
“They’re the antithesis of Dr. King, and for her psychologically, that’s safe,” he says.
There’s no doubt about her favorite pastor, though.
“My favorite preacher is not with me anymore,” she says, “and that’s my father.”
McDonald says he could imagine when Bernice King was a teenager that she would follow her father into the ministry. She had that rare ability to electrify audiences when she spoke. She connected with youth.
“She ran away from it for a while,” he says. “We did a play one year and she played the part of the preacher,” he says. “She may have been 17. I said, ‘Oh yeah, we’ll see where this goes.’”
She eventually was ordained at Ebenezer.
But when she was a teenager, she was still dealing with the loss of her father, he says. Once, the church youth group took a trip to a camp, where they watched a documentary on her father, he says.
“She broke down,” McDonald says. “She cried for I don’t know how long. Everybody was trying to comfort her. Later she said that was the first time she had really grieved about her father.”
Becoming her own person
Outside the pulpit, friends and family say, Bernice King is different from the solemn figure portrayed in the media.
Hints of that warmth came through in the photo session at Ebenezer. She was playful and warm. She displayed a radiant smile and a hearty laugh. (Her father had a beautiful rumbling baritone of a laugh and a mischievous sense of humor in private).
Her cousin Alveda King says she wishes more people could see Bernice King throw her head back and laugh. She and others describe King as someone who loves gospel music, can dance, and sends birthday cards and encouraging notes to people.
They say King lights up when she’s around young girls, such as during her visits to the Coretta Scott King Young Women’s Leadership Academy, an Atlanta school established in honor of her mother.
When King visits, the girls don’t see her as a remote stoic figure, her cousin says.
“Those girls, they cluster around her, they rub her hair and lean all over her and get in those pictures,” Alveda King says.
Canady, of the UNCF, says King has a rollicking sense of humor.
“One night for her birthday we ended up at a family’s friend’s house and we were playing Taboo all night long and laughing and joking,” he says. “She has this way of telling stories that will crack you up, and remembering things that you have forgotten that will have you in stitches.
“She had really learned in life not to take herself too seriously.”
Canady says people have written rules for Bernice King that they’re not willing to follow themselves: She’s not allowed to make mistakes; she’s not allowed to be different from her parents.
“She is not Martin or Coretta Scott King. She is her own person,” says Canady.
In her 1997 book, “Hard Questions, Heart Answers,” King wrote:
“I remember someone telling me when I was a teenager, ‘It’s better to be alone and be yourself than to be in a crowd and be someone else.’”
As she assumes a more public role, Bernice King seems to be finding a way to be herself, even when she is surrounded by a crowd.
Maybe now she is finally hitting her stride.