It was only a little more than 11 years ago that this photo was taken.
That's
me holding our first grand-daughter Delilah. Why am I posting this? Because
that little girl is now in 5th grade and had a school assignment to
interview someone about activism. She asked if she could interview me,
and I said "Of course! Yes, I would be honored."
So she came by
the other day with her mom and brothers. She pulled out the long paper
with all the questions that the teacher had assigned to ask about
activism. What an interesting journey back in time that was for me.
When
did I first become politically active? It was back in 1967-68 during
the Civil Rights movement. There were many marches and protests, and
yes, my sibs and I got involved. We marched in the inner-city streets of Newark, NJ.
Then, of course,
there was the war in Vietnam. My siblings and I protested the war and
marched in many long demonstrations. The US still had a draft at the
time, and we learned about draft counseling, deferments, etc. The war
raged on, and we kept up with our protests and vigilance. We went to SDS (Students for a Democratic Society) meetings and my sister became the youngest member to join the local chapter. We were so committed.
In 1968
on election day we held Vote For Humphrey signs in the legal distance
from the voting area. He was running against Richard Nixon and we knew
how terrible that win would be for our country. Sadly, Nixon did win,
and our marching and protesting went on.
Then the worst happened the Kent State Massacre in 1970.
Five days after the shootings my siblings and I drove to Washington DC
to protest and joined 100,000 protesters. We marched. We chanted. We
cried. Then we went home, and I never really marched again. Well, Roger
and I did march at a small local rally back in 2018. I blogged about that back then. But it was nothing like the anti-war movement of the 1960s.
It
was interesting to remember these times and feel deeply honored that
Delilah would ask to interview me. After she left, I thought about some
of the things that really made me want to take to the streets to protest
war and violence, racism and hatred. It made me remember my maternal
grandmother and how she lost her mother and brothers and many family
members in the hell that was Auschwitz. This is what pushed me to be an
activist stand up for peace, for freedom, for acknowledgement that we
humans are just one species on this earth. "Can't we all just get along?"