0
| Thumbs Up/Down |
| Received: 19/0 Given: 136/0 |
"All of Africa will be free before we can get a lousy cup of
coffee."
-- James Baldwin
On February 1, 1960, Joseph McNeil, Franklin McCain, David
Richmond, and Ezell Blair, Jr., walked into an F.W. Woolworth
Company store in Greensboro, North Carolina, purchased some
school supplies, then went to the lunch counter and asked to
be served. They knew they probably would not be. The four
freshmen at the North Carolina Agricultural and Technical
College were black, and this lunch counter was segregated.
Still, as one of the students told UPI, "We believe, since we
buy books and papers in the other part of the store, we
should get served in this part." When they were forced to
leave as the store closed, they still had not been served.
This first sit-in had very little effect. C.L. Harris,
manager of the store, said of the students, "They can just
sit there. It's nothing to me." But when a larger group of
students returned the next day, wire services picked up the
story, and civil rights organizations began to spread the
word to other college campuses. Gordon Carey, a
representative from the Congress of Racial Equality (CORE),
came down from New York to organize more sit-ins. Ella Baker
of the SCLC contacted students on many college campuses. In
two weeks, students in eleven cities held sit-ins, primarily
at Woolworth's and S.H. Kress stores. Soon stores put signs
in the window, saying "NO TRESPASSING," "We Reserve the Right
to Service the Public As We See Fit," and "CLOSED - In the
Interest of Public Safety."
The basic plan of the sit-ins was that a group of students
would go to a lunch counter and ask to be served. If they
were, they'd move on to the next lunch counter. If they were
not, they would not move until they had been. If they were
arrested, a new group would take their place. The students
always remained nonviolent and respectful. Students in
Nashville had some "Do's" and "Don'ts" during sit-ins:
Do show yourself friendly on the counter at all times. Do sit
straight and always face the counter. Don't strike back, or
curse back if attacked. Don't laugh out. Don't hold
conversations. Don't block entrances.
Another part of the sit-ins was that the students would be
dressed up in their best Sunday clothing. James J.
Kilpatrick, the editor of the Richmond News Leader and an
vehement segregationist, noted that this created an
interesting contrast with the whites who came to harass them:
Here were the colored students, in coats, white shirts, ties,
and one of them was reading Goethe and one was taking notes
from a biology text. [The students often brought schoolbooks
with them to sit-ins so they could study.] And here, on the
sidewalk outside was a gang of white boys come to heckle, a
ragtail rabble, slack-jawed, black-jacketed, grinning fit to
kill, and some of them, God save the mark, were waving the
proud and honored flag of the Southern States in the last war
fought by gentlemen. Eheu! It gives one pause.
When Northern students heard of the movement, they decided to
help their Southern counterparts by picketing local branches
of chain stores that were segregated in the South. Martin
Smolin, a Columbia student who led picketing at Woolworth's,
explained, "People have asked me why northerners, especially
white people, who have been in the majority in our picketing
demonstrations in New York, take an active part in an issue
which doesn't concern them. My answer is that injustice
anywhere is everybody's concern." And when a reporter asked
Congressman Adam Clayton Powell of Harlem if he was
advocating that Negroes in New York stay out of national
chain stores such as Woolworth's, he answered, "Oh no. I'm
advocating that American citizens interested in democracy
stay out of these stores."
The first few weeks of sit-ins were fairly quiet. Blacks were
not served, but they were not harassed much either. Then, on
February 27, sit-in students in Nashville were attacked by a
group of white teenagers. Police arrived, but they let the
white teens go while arresting the protesters for "disorderly
conduct." As each group of protesters was arrested, a new
group would take its place. "No matter what they did and how
many they arrested, there was still a lunch counter full of
students there," explained Diane Nash, one of the leaders of
the sit-in movement in Nashville. Z. Alexander Looby, a
prominent black lawyer, represented the protesters in court;
however, as he began his arguments, the judge literally
turned his back. Looby stopped his argument and said, to the
judge's back, "What's the use!" The judge found the
defendants guilty, and they were fined $150 plus court costs.
A few days later, 63 protesters were arrested during sit-ins
at Nashville's Greyhound and Trailways bus terminals.
Over Easter Weekend, Ella Baker of the SCLC helped organize a
conference of sit-in students from around the nation. Held at
Shaw University in Raleigh, North Carolina, the conference
was dubbed the "Sacrifice for Dignity." Older organizations
such as SCLC, CORE, and NAACP hoped that the students would
create a youth organization inside of them. Baker, however,
encouraged the students to form an independent organization.
They formed the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee
(SNCC, pronounced "snick") to lead the sit-in effort.
On April 19, Z. Alexander Looby's home was destroyed by a
powerful dynamite blast. Looby was considered to be fairly
conservative, so the bombing enraged not only the black
community but many whites as well. 2,500 students and
community members staged a silent march to City Hall that
day. When they reached it, Mayor Ben West was waiting for
them. Diane Nash asked him, "Do you feel it is wrong to
discriminate against a person solely on the basis of their
race or color?" West said yes. He later explained, "It was a
moral question -- one that a man had to answer, not a
politician." Nashville merchants were somewhat relieved by
West's answer. "The merchants were afraid to move on their
own, were almost looking for an excuse to say `Well if that's
what the mayor thinks, then maybe we ought to go ahead,'"
explained Bernie Schweid. A few weeks later on May 10, six
Nashville lunch counters began serving blacks. The students
in Nashville had won an important victory.
The sit-ins, however, were not over. By August 1961, they had
attracted over 70,000 participants and generated over 3,000
arrests. They continued in some areas of the South until and
even after the passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964
declared segregation at lunch counters unlawful. In addition,
the technique of the sit-ins was used to integrate other
public facilities, such as movie theaters, and SNCC, the
student group that rose out of the sit-ins, continued to be
involved in the civil rights movement for many years. Perhaps
most importantly, the sit-ins marked a change in the civil
rights movement. In the words of journalist Louis
Lomax, "They were proof that the Negro leadership class,
epitomized by the NAACP, was no longer the prime mover in the
Negro's social revolt. The demonstrations have shifted the
desegregation battles from the courtroom to the marketplace."
They showed that nonviolent direct action and youth could be
very useful weapons in the war against segregation.
Copyright © 1997 Lisa Cozzens
Nov 2, 2010 "Assata Shakur Liberation Day" marks 31 yrs of freedom for our Comrade Assata Shakur, Our Warrior was liberated from a NJ prison by Comrades In The Black Liberation Army click here to read more or here www.assatashakur.com
(Please take the time to read this. It is very moving and at the same time makes you wanna ball up and cry. Powerful yet disturbing that these children had to be faced with such hatred that they couldnt be served in peace. At the same time it makes you wanna get ya ass up and fight for whats rightfully yours. ---QUEEN)
(1) Franklin McCain was one of the four black teenagers who took part in the original sit-in in Greensboro Woolworths on 1st February, 1960. He was interviewed by Howell Raines for his book My Soul Is Rested: Movement Days in the Deep South Remembered (1977)
The planning process was on a Sunday night, I remember it quite well. I think it was Joseph McNeil who said, "It's time that we take some action now. We've been getting together, and we've been, up to this point, still like most people we've talked about for the past few weeks or so - that is, people who talk a lot but, in fact, make very little action." After selecting the technique, then we said, "Let's go down and just ask for service." It certainly wasn't titled a "sit-in" or "sit-down" at that time. "Let's just go down to Woolworth's tomorrow and ask for service, and the tactic is going to be simply this: we'll just stay there." We never anticipated being served, certainly, the first day anyway. "We'll stay until we get served." And I think Ezell Blair said, "Well, you know that might be weeks, that might be months, that might be never." And I think it was the consensus of the group, we said, "Well, that's just the chance we'll have to take."
Once getting there we did make purchases of school supplies and took the patience and time to get receipts for our purchases, and Joseph McNeil and myself went over to the counter and asked to be served coffee and doughnuts. As anticipated, the reply was, "I'm sorry, we don't serve you here." And of course we said, "We just beg to disagree with you. We've in fact already been served." The attendant or waitress was a little bit dumbfounded, just didn't know what to say under circumstances like that. And we said, "We wonder why you'd invite us in to serve us at one counter and deny service at another. If this is a private club or private concern, then we believe you ought to sell membership cards." That didn't go over too well, simply because I don't really think she understood what we were talking about, and for the second reason, she had no logical response to a statement like that.
At that point there was a policeman who had walked in off the street, who was pacing the aisle behind us, where we were seated, with his club in his hand, just sort of knocking it in his hand, and just looking mean and red and a little bit upset and a little bit disgusted. And you had the feeling that he didn't know what the hell to do. You had the feeling that this is the first time that this big bad man with the gun and the club has been pushed in a corner, and he's got absolutely no defense, and the thing that's killing him more than anything else - he doesn't know what he can or what he cannot do. He's defenseless. Usually his defense is offense, and we've provoked him, yes, but we haven't provoked him outwardly enough for him to resort to violence. And I think this is just killing him; you can see it all over him.
(2) Franklin McCain was interviewed by Gary Younge for his book, No Place Like Home (2000)
On the day that I sat at that counter I had the most tremendous feeling of elation and celebration. I felt that in this life nothing else mattered. I felt like one of those wise men who sits cross-legged and cross-armed and has reached a natural high. Nothing else has ever come close. Not the birth of my first son nor my marriage. People go through their whole lives and they don't get that to happen to them. And here it was being visited on me as a 17-year-old. It was wonderful but it was sad also, because I know that I will never have that again. I'm just sorry it was when I was 17.
I was brought up with a major myth. I was told that if I worked hard, believed in the constitution, the 10 commandments and the bill of rights, and got a good education, I would be successful. For a long time, I held it against my parents and my grandparents as well. I felt they had lied to me and I felt suicidal. I felt that if that is what this life was all about then it wasn't worth it. There seemed no prospect for dignity or respect as a young black man.
So we decided to do something. When we sat down, and the waitress refused to take our orders, there was a policeman behind us slapping his night-stick on his hand. I thought, I guess this is it. But then it occurred to me the policeman really didn't know what he was doing, and I must say I was relieved.
Some way through, an old white lady, who must have been 75 or 85, came over and put her hands on my shoulders and said: "Boys I am so proud of you. You should have done this 10 years ago." That is exactly the sort of person you didn't expect to hear anything from.
It was only 15 or 20 years later that I learnt to forgive them and understand them. I was threatening their livelihood. And it was around that time I realised that my parents weren't naive in the cruel lie that they had told me. They lied to me be cause they loved me.
Source --->http://www.spartacus.schoolnet.co.uk/USAsitin.htm
When I first heard about the Negroes sitting in at lunch counters down South, I thought they were just a bunch of publicity hounds. But one night when I saw those young kids on TV, getting back up on the lunch counter stools after being knocked off them, sugar in their eyes, ketchup in their hair - well, something happened to me. Suddenly I was burning.---Stokely Carmichael (interviewed by Gordon Parks)
There are currently 1 users browsing this thread. (0 members and 1 guests)
Bookmarks