Higher Education

It was a warm and sunny morning that first day of October, the kind of day when you didn’t mind walking to school. Here in South Jersey we were enjoying “Indian Summer”; mild sunny days that made it difficult to concentrate in class. I walked those tree-lined streets without a care in the world, on to school, and climbed those stairs with all my classmates. We sat as roll was taken, the sun’s rays bright and warm, streaming through those great big windows. Then we stood as always to pledge allegiance to the red white and blue in the corner of the room.

As we stood to recite our pledge, a young man in Mississippi was walking to school. His walk was not as pleasant as mine. This young man had to be escorted to college by federal marshals, amid the jeers and threats from all of his fellow students. His name was James Meredith, and he was going to attend the University of Mississippi, but he wasn’t wanted there. Was James Meredith a criminal? Was he a communist spy or something? No, James Meredith was an American, a black American, and his fellow citizens were against black Americans entering their school.
President Kennedy had to order that federal marshals escort James Meredith to class. National Guard troops were called out, because the people down there were determined to prevent a black man from integrating their school. Thousands of white people began to riot, and to shoot at the marshals, and so two people were killed and scores were wounded, and hundreds were arrested. More soldiers had to be sent into Mississippi, and more people would be arrested before some sense of order was restored. James Meredith made it to his first class that day, that fine sunny day in October, risking his life just to go to school.

I stood that day, hand over my heart along with my classmates, the sun shining bright upon us all. So earnest we were, so believing, as we spoke the words we said every day to the red white and blue in the corner of the room: “.....with liberty and justice for all.”