Selma: Bloody Marches & Brass Footsteps
As we drove to Selma, the absence of streetlights and abundance of cottonfields caught my attention. The rolling hills gradually plateaued into grasslands, swamps, and agriculture. Sometimes these fields were surrounded large houses (adjacent to old, unused wooden shacks). It felt like the environment was challenging me to fill these empty spaces with my imagination. After all, we were traveling along US Highway 80-W, retracing the path of the Bloody Sunday March.
From March 21–25, 1965, 25,000 African Americans, led by Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., marched from Selma to Montgomery to register to vote iv . For two years, the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) had been campaigning to increase African American voter registrations in Dallas County, Alabama. However, Jim Clark, a local sheriff and segregationist, objected to the demonstrators with increasing violence. This violence came to a head on February 18, 1965, when Jimmie Lee Jackson, a young African American man, was shot and killed by a state trooper near Selma.
Jackson’s murder, police brutality, and systematic disenfranchisement of African Americans laid the foundation for the 80-km (50 miles) march from Selma to Montgomery (the state capitol) iv . The non-violent demonstrators, dressed in their Sunday-best, marched over the Edmund Pettus bridge (named after a Klansman) which became a core image of the protest.
Upon arriving in Selma, a small memorial to the “Bloody Sunday March” welcomed us to the city. A black and brass sign, mounted with the Asante Akoma symbol, read; “The bloodshed on this bridge, named to honor Klan Leader, Edmund Pettus, must fuel our resolve to secure the right to vote in perpetuity…”
It is followed by 6-foot-tall black marble slabs which memorialize leaders of the march, these include; Reverend Hosea Williams, Sr., John Lewis, Amelia Boynton Robinson, Marie Foster, and Coretta Scott-King . On the far left, a rock sculpture quotes the bible; “When your children shall ask you in time to come, saying, what mean these 12 stones? Then you shall tell them how you made it over. Joshua 4:21, 22”
The static sound of crickets drew me into the lives and commitments of these activists. What motivated them? What were they afraid of? What it be like to speak with them? Unsure of what to do with these curiosities, I closed my eyes and simply listened. Pick-up trucks bellowed loudly to my left. In the few-and-far-between gaps of silence, I heard birds singing and distant voices chattering away. My attention was split between these distant noises and the gentle southern sunlight resting on my checks. But I hadn’t come to Selma just to sit in the sun.
As I walked over the bridge, I instantly noticed how high the bridge felt. It is only 4.5 meters (14.8 feet) high but felt significantly higher in person. I could see the over the whole city of Selma. My eyes were drawn to a blue water tower, which looked like it was surveilling the short Selma “skyline”. Small bugs buzzing near my eyes pulled my attention to the Alabama river glimmering indifferently below me. From what I could see, Selma was just as empty as Montgomery — but much less maintained. Neglected buildings, vague restaurants, and moss-infested patios scattered Selma’s historic center. It appeared that nobody had tried to preserve the historic relevance of this vital location. I was wrong.
Near the main road into Selma, I stood on what seemed to be a broken-down balcony overlooking the river. To my left, I heard a kind voice introduce himself. “Hello, how ya doing today” he said, with his hand waiting to shake mine. He told me about the “broken balcony” I was standing on.
According to this matured educator, at one point in time, this balcony had once been a restaurant where civil rights activists would meet. Dr. King, John Lewis, and many more had patronized this spot to strategize means of emancipating their people. The Klan, unfortunately, found out about the restaurant. They burned it down. Now, all that remains are drab concrete tiles, a plastic chair, and two brass footprints (representing Dr. King). However, a nearby shrub concealed them from convenient sight.
It was heartbreaking, but not surprising. Nevertheless, I decided to look at it as a direct example of why decolonization is necessary. It is far too easy, in the comfort of our classrooms, to defend decolonization as an abstract practice. Intuitively, we may support it, but forget why it is necessary.
After leaving the patio, I noticed an old newspaper outlet. My curiosity lit up, and I had to go inside. Questions flooded my mind. The building was under renovation, and the lights barely worked. However, once I got into the main newsroom, I met two journalists. They seemed slightly surprised (rightfully so) but also very curious how a Swedish/American who lives in Amsterdam ended up in the middle of their newsroom.
I told them that I want to become an investigative journalist and asked for advice. They were incredibly kind and open. This was an excellent opportunity to ask about the crime rates in Montgomery. Romance, poverty, lack of opportunities, and masculine notions of glory seemed to be at the root of the issue. Apparently, only the week beforehand, someone had been shot and killed at a gas station in Selma. Their nonchalant attitude about this led me to believe that they were used to these types of situations. Once again, my mind brought me back to Palestine.
It was incredibly disappointing to see such a historically relevant city like Selma neglected by the government. The yearly income of Selma is $29,000 iii a year and has a crime rate 107.9% higher than the rest of the country ii . Interestingly, less than 2,000km away, in Washington D.C., the US recently passed a $14.5bn military aid package for Israel i . These facts left me confounded, enraged, and saddened. A single, semi-rhetorical question chiseled itself into my brain; is violence the only thing this government knows?
I don’t believe in cynicism. A part of me always believes in the endurance of humanity — but how much there is to endure! In only a few hours, Selma exposed me to these dynamics. However, my experiences of intensity, silence, and danger translated into joy in Birmingham, Alabama.
[i] Jazeera, A. (2023, November 3). US House passes $14.5bn military aid package for Israel. Al Jazeera. https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2023/11/3/us-house-passes-14-5bn-military-aid-package-for-israel
[ii]Areavibes. (n.d.). Selma, AL Crime rates: Stats & map. https://www.areavibes.com/selma-al/crime/#:~:text=With%20a%20violent%20crime%20rate,victim%20of%20a%20violent%20crime.
[iii]Income and earnings in Selma, AL. (2023, May 31). City-Data.com. https://www.city-data.com/income/income-Selma-Alabama.html
[iv] Wallenfeldt, J. (2023, December 22). Selma March | Date, route, Bloody Sunday, & Facts. Encyclopedia Britannica. https://www.britannica.com/event/Selma-March
