This is Topeka, Kansas, and today's Voices event--the last on a 70-day odyssey to 39 cities in 22 states--is at Monroe Elementary School. Now a national historic site and museum, this was the school that Linda Brown was required to attend 50 years ago because she was black. With the filing of the famous lawsuit by her father and others, Monroe became a centerpiece of the Supreme Court's watershed
Brown v. Board of Education ruling, which declared "separate but equal" education unconstitutional and "inherently unequal."
So much about today's event, and the restored two-story clay brick building that now houses educational materials and exhibits, represents a theme common to every civil rights movement: hope for a better tomorrow. No matter that the Ku Klux Klan showed up for the museum's dedication last May.
Inside the school, beyond perfectly preserved "White" and "Colored" signs in the entry hall, are black-and-white photographs, moving images and documents that take you through some of our nation's most harrowing days. But what holds more impact here are the contemporary works, color images, and recorded voices of a new generation. In a short video dubbed "Pass It On," teenagers discuss the status of civil rights and race relations. "I belong to a generation that doesn't see much race," says a young Latina. An Asian young man confides that he's the victim of stereotypes and racial slurs. "There's still segregation here," he says.
Outside, in front of the low-slung clapboard homes of Mexican immigrants, a 35-voice choir of children of all colors sways on the school's side lawn. Arms swing and voices punch the morning air with the refrain "Yo, hey you. Use your freedom wisely." Afterwards, Native American children perform native songs and dances.
On a journey that has focused on stories from the past, I get a rare chance after the performance to talk with those who represent the future. Christopher Williams, 9, explains that the Brown decision "was about se-gre-ma-gation." After a correction from his mother, he continues: "Civil rights is where people black and white marched together to end segregation." Defined in fourth-grade terms, "Segregation is where people don't get to go to the same school because of the color of their skin."
Christopher--his mother white, his father black--goes to a school where, he happily reports, "everybody can be friends."
Cheryl Brown Henderson, president of the Brown Foundation, was four years old when the ruling that bears her father's name was handed down. She did not understand the significance of the Brown decision until she was 30, and has spent the many years since trying to get the story told fully and accurately. When she discusses the Klan's presence at the museum's dedication, she speaks with the bold confidence of moral authority. "You would expect the hate groups to make their presence known, and they did. Their position is that Brown was something white people didn't want. How dare we have a national park [celebrating it]."
Inside the museum, considered a crown jewel of history in a state that beckoned emancipated slaves, there are more young voices on tape. "People being able to walk down the street and not having to look twice. I think that's really the new dream," says a young black man.
"I think the idea of civil rights, or that people should have them, is accepted. And yet I don't think that's enough," a young, light-skinned woman explains. "But yeah, I do hope to pass that on."
As the Voices Bus Tour makes its way to its final destination at a closing ceremony in Las Vegas, those words resonate. This journey has been about passing on history and, more importantly, passing on hope.
