The Non-Violence Gene

Greetings.

I had the honor of  being present for a special speaker today. Ms. Barbara Cross relayed her eyewitness account of the tragedy at Sixteenth Street Baptist Church. Four little girls lost their lives in the bombing which took place on September 15, 1963. She was there and her friend died only feet away from her in the blast. She recounted, with tears, the emotions and atmosphere of that era. With many a shaken fist she declared that Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was her hero. But she also emphasized the contributions of the "footmen" as she called them who marched by his side.

Her words, the varying venom and fervency of her voice, provoked me to tears towards the end. Her passion for the mission of telling this story moved every person present. I have been inspired to write a monologue, in hopes of performing it one day, based on the thought process and values of her presentation. I'd like one day to present it to her. I did get a chance to tell her personally that her words, her presence there today had inspired me. But I don't think she truly understood. Still teary eyed, and vaguely passionate from the ending of her speech, she thanked me with many a shaky hugs. But I'm almost certain that she had no clue as to what she had planted in me today. This afternoon I began to think. And I began to formulate this speech.


The Non-Violence Gene

I often wonder about the past. No, not in a vague broad sense. I mean about the past of my race, of African Americans.


Update:

I've decided not to post this piece because it's too important and I recognize the potential it has for greatness. In other words, I don't want someone stealing it. ;)

Zai Jian