By Dr. Herman O. Kelly, Jr., Senior Columnist
We live in a world of symbols and images. I am presently reading The Barn: The Secret History of a Murder in Mississippi, the truth regarding Emmett Till’s murder in the Delta of Mississippi. The author describes the Barn where Till was killed, and this place seems to have a life of its own. I see The Barn as a place of violence and hate. The Barn is where a teenager’s life of great possibility was ended. As I read this story, I am reminded of my pastoral days in Clarksdale, Mississippi, at The Friendship African Methodist Episcopal Church. I shared six years serving a lovely congregation, but as we shared joy and sorrows, the Delta holds a place of horror and pain for the Till family. The Barn is a symbol of racism and marginalized hatred that still lifts its ugly head in America.
The Bus is where Rosa Parks could not sit after a long day at work. The Bus reminds me of a place where we still must fight for real personhood in this country, for Langston Hughes reminds us that “I, too, am America.“ I remember being interviewed by 12 persons, seated in a circle at a major university in this country, for a teaching position. I wonder how many people of color were also placed under such conditions in the Academy. I endured the uncomfortable place because of The Barn and The Bus. The Bus is supposed to be a comfortable ride to a destination, but Sis. Parks was never comfortable on The Bus. I can not be comfortable, even with the creature comforts of life.
The Jail symbolizes one’s freedom being taken away. Dr. King penned powerful words from a jail in Birmingham, Alabama. Today, we can be free, but still have our minds behind bars of our own creative incarceration. As I share with my students at the university, I work with purpose, with passion, and with power.
Let us never forget The Barn, The Bus, and The Jail.
