Today, After reading an Associated Press article of the passing of Lucille Bridges, I only felt it fitting to post my thoughts on it.
Lucille Bridges was a mother who allowed her six year old daughter Ruby to be one of the first black children to integrate William Frantz Elementary School in New Orleans, Louisiana. To be chosen as one of only a few black children to participate in early desegregated schooling required a bright and fearless child. But imagine the courage it took a mother and father to expose their little girl to the ugliness and potential violence of Louisiana white racism in 1960.
Lucille Bridges was that mother. Driven by a vision of equal opportunity for her daughter, a vision backed by the 1954, U.S. Supreme Court ruling on separate but equal schooling as unconstitutional.
Lucille Bridges, a mother who after proudly walking with her daughter on that first day (Nov. 14, 1960) would leave her in the hands of U.S. Marshals for protection while walking to school.
Lucille Bridges, who must've seen on television the ugly, intimidating faces of white citizens screaming and spitting racists epithets at her baby as she innocently entered what looked like a white fortress of enemy troops reluctant to surrender to the new law of the land.After all, this wasn't the liberal northeast but the deep confederate south where blacks should know their place in a white supremacist society. Where everywhere a black citizen went publicly were reminders of the unequal terms they were expected to abide by at the risk of punishment and/or death. Water Fountains, Bathrooms, Restaurants, Stores, Theatres, Ballparks, and of course Buses.
Lucille Bridges knew the anger and ugliness her daughter would face desegregating an elementary school, and yet she convinced her reluctant husband to agree with such a dangerous undertaking for Ruby.
Without knowing Lucille, I am willing to wager the house that she was a strong woman of faith. Who else but an almighty God would a parent trust to guide and protect their child on such a perilous journey; alone.
A father and son might experience this same situation as just a right of passage on the journey from boyhood to manhood, but a little girl and her mother? Pigtails and baby doll shoes? Innocence?
Here's how Ruby remembered her mother Lucille in the article:
“Today our country lost a hero. Brave, progressive, a champion for change. She helped alter the course of so many lives by setting me out on my path as a six year old little girl. Our nation lost a Mother of the Civil Rights Movement today. And I lost my mom. I love you and am grateful for you. May you Rest In Peace.”
As I've stated earlier, I didn't know Lucille Bridges. I didn't grow up in the deep south nor experience early school desegregation. But I know the gut punches a parent takes every time their child has to face the cold realities of ugliness in this world. I know the pain of having no answer for a child's questions about racial discrimination. And fortunately for me, I know what its like to have a parent stand up and demand equality for their child.
Lucille Bridges is a symbol for the many, many black mothers who stood up for their children and took the gut punches so that one day a little black girl, like her Ruby, could walk proudly into the White House of the United States of America as Vice President, escorted by secret service agents. Without the courage, vision and persistence found in the likes of a Lucille Bridges, there could not be a Vice President-elect like Kamala Harris.
Mrs. Lucille Bridges, we the black , brown and white citizens of the United States of America Salute and Honor Your Service!