https://padlet.com/rdavi237/civilrightsmuseum Made with a wink and a smile en-us 2022-01-26 02:14:11 UTC 2023-02-10 20:31:56 UTC hello@padlet.com rdavi237 https://padlet.com/rdavi237/civilrightsmuseum/wish/2012607351  "All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside. No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws." ]]> 2022-01-26 02:43:08 UTC https://padlet.com/rdavi237/civilrightsmuseum/wish/2012607351 rdavi237 https://padlet.com/rdavi237/civilrightsmuseum/wish/2012613876  On the morning of September 4, 1957, Elizabeth Eckford went to school alone because her family lacked a telephone, and therefore, could not communicate with the other students regarding where they would meet up. The photo of Ms. Eckford walking through the mob alone has become the symbolic image of the quiet, dignified determination of the Little Rock Nine and the non-violence beliefs of the Civil Rights heroes. Ms. Eckford did not graduate from Central High because the schools were closed her senior year. Instead she earned enough credits to attend Central State University in Ohio, where she graduated with a degree in history. Ms. Eckford has received the Army Good Conduct Medal, and together with the Little Rock Nine, she is the recipient of the Springarn Medal, the NAACP’s most prestigious award, and the Congressional Gold Medal. Ms. Eckford, who is an army veteran and a probation officer, still lives in Little Rock. She continues to challenge students to be active participants in standing up for despised minorities, stating, “true reconciliation can occur when we honestly acknowledge our painful but shared past.” ]]> 2022-01-26 02:48:50 UTC https://padlet.com/rdavi237/civilrightsmuseum/wish/2012613876 rdavi237 https://padlet.com/rdavi237/civilrightsmuseum/wish/2012621833 2022-01-26 02:55:18 UTC https://padlet.com/rdavi237/civilrightsmuseum/wish/2012621833 rdavi237 https://padlet.com/rdavi237/civilrightsmuseum/wish/2012630685 2022-01-26 03:02:00 UTC https://padlet.com/rdavi237/civilrightsmuseum/wish/2012630685 rdavi237 https://padlet.com/rdavi237/civilrightsmuseum/wish/2012640614 In Elizabeth Eckford's Words | Facing History and Ourselves

]]> 2022-01-26 03:09:55 UTC https://padlet.com/rdavi237/civilrightsmuseum/wish/2012640614 rdavi237 https://padlet.com/rdavi237/civilrightsmuseum/wish/2012661587  "In the spring of 1957, students at Horace Mann High School—the segregated school I attended—were asked to sign up if they were interested in transferring to Central High School the next year. Well, I signed the sheet of paper. I was aware that the Brown decision represented a fundamental change occurring in the South. It meant expanded opportunities, better jobs. I was aware of the Montgomery bus boycott and the role that Rosa Parks and Dr. Martin Luther King played. And I was taking a course in Negro history in 11th grade at Horace Mann. We talked about slave insurrections, protests. We talked about Jackie Robinson breaking into baseball. So I had some consciousness that things didn’t have to be the way they were.  The other thing that always struck me was that change was only going to occur if the African-American community was willing to step forward, that it wasn’t going to be handed to you. And I saw Central High School as an educational institution. They had more courses, more reference books, more science labs than we had at Horace Mann. I saw this as an enhancement for my own personal education. The first day we went to school with the phalanx of paratroopers surrounding us, the morning of the 25th, I felt absolutely exhilarated. This was the first time I could remember that the U.S. government was supporting the interests of African Americans. I felt protected. Initially, the most avid of the segregationists boycotted class and that really was a breath of fresh air. There were students who attempted to speak to us and befriend us. A few tried to eat lunch with us. They came to the table and introduced themselves. But as the soldiers were withdrawn, the segregationists—I guess they figured that we weren’t going to leave—began to trickle back into the school. That’s when the harassment and the intimidation towards us, as well as towards white students who tried to befriend us, increased—and it increased significantly. Our lockers were continually broken into. I’m sure the Little Rock school board spent thousands of dollars replacing our books. They were stolen, broken, vandalized. But each time they moved us to a different locker—supposedly a secret locker—in about five minutes that locker was broken into. So we learned very early never put your homework in your locker. Anything you didn’t want destroyed you had to carry around. In my classes, I participated as much as I could. There was only one teacher that I felt simply didn’t want me in the class. That was the physics teacher. He was very hostile toward me. I was having great difficulty in the course and had a couple of tutors, located through the NAACP, who worked with me. One was a biophysicist from the University of Arkansas. He was white, Dr. Robert L. Wixom. I spent Saturdays at his house being tutored. I wouldn’t have gotten through the course without his help. There was some apprehension on the part of the school about my going to the graduation ceremony. There were some threats. Some individuals in Little Rock had indicated that they would harm me if I showed up. And of course I was laser focused on going because of the toil and tribulations we went through that year. So there were 600-plus students graduating with me. They went through the list of students alphabetically. When they got to my name there was this silence: No one clapped except my family. As I walked across the stage I thought to myself that I really didn’t need anyone to clap. The moment, the achievement was recognition enough. It turned out that Dr. King attended my graduation. I didn’t know he was coming and didn’t know he was in the audience. He sat with my family. We spoke briefly at the end of the ceremony. I was honored that he appeared. I’m proud to have been part of the Nine. Fifty years later to see your name in a history book or have a teacher come up to you and say they use Eyes on the Prize (a documentary on the Civil Rights struggle) as a teaching tool for young people, it makes you feel good. What Little Rock represents is trying to be prepared to take advantage of a moment. It’s about us pursuing what most people would think an admirable goal: a decent education. ]]> 2022-01-26 03:27:51 UTC https://padlet.com/rdavi237/civilrightsmuseum/wish/2012661587 rdavi237 https://padlet.com/rdavi237/civilrightsmuseum/wish/2012695595 2022-01-26 03:58:04 UTC https://padlet.com/rdavi237/civilrightsmuseum/wish/2012695595 rdavi237 https://padlet.com/rdavi237/civilrightsmuseum/wish/2012697461 24 Photographs of Civil Rights Pioneers The Little Rock Nine (historycollection.com)]]> 2022-01-26 03:59:38 UTC https://padlet.com/rdavi237/civilrightsmuseum/wish/2012697461