University protests give me hope

When I was about 23 years old, a headline in my local paper shocked me. The article stated that the local Ku Klux Klan chapter would hold public lectures and recruitment drives, along with the line, “The KKK unites in Auburn.” I was furious. I was scared to death of what this group was going to do in my hometown.

But I wasn’t naive. We knew that there was probably already a KKK operation in Maine, albeit quite underground. However, prejudice against people of color and Jews was seen and heard everywhere.

I was horrified to learn that the KKK was approaching. I wanted to do something, so I gathered the courage to protest. While I was signing autographs, I felt sick to my stomach and worried about what was going to happen.

On one side, written in bold black letters is the famous line from Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s speech in Washington, D.C., “I HAVE A DREAM.” I added colorful flowers around the edges and sprinkled peace signs where there was space. On the back, I wrote “KKK” in large black letters. Next, I drew a round red circle around the entire letter KKK and a red line across the circle.

He was confused when he learned that the town had to give permission to hold a Klan meeting. I can’t help but wonder how the person who answered the phone must have felt to hear the demands of Klan members standing on the granite steps of our beautiful library spouting words of hate, discrimination, violence, and oppression. I could only imagine.

On the sunny morning of the protest, I felt sick to my stomach. I started rethinking my rinky-dink signs. I drove to the library parking lot an hour before the clan arrived. Through the car window, I could see other people, mostly older African Americans, holding several placards. I think there was another white person in the group. There were 5 people in total and I was scheduled to be the 6th person.

We talked until noon and waited for the clan to arrive. There was a man taking pictures in the distance. We waited and waited. They didn’t show.

The next day I checked the paper for any writing. I searched for the headline and found an article. The headline was “I have a dream.” I gasped. A stranger with a camera got my message and shared it with the newspaper. I felt a great sense of pride and a sense that my opinion was being heard. The reporter wrote that he is trying to unite all people in peace and acceptance. The last paragraph said something about a sign held by a young white woman outside the library.

I feel a sense of gratitude as I look at the students protesting at our nation’s universities today. I have mixed feelings and I know I won’t understand everything. For probably 30 years, I’ve wondered if there are young people out there driving around. Were they behind the wheel? We find that the younger generation is more focused on themselves as individuals or how to be successful and make money. I have never read or heard many young people talking about poverty in our country and the plight of those trying to survive. I worry that young people are not thinking about important topics that need our attention and consideration.

I am encouraged and hopeful by recent young protesters. I feel a little patriotic when I see young people waking up. While some students have taken to the “steering wheel” in harmful ways in their protests, the majority have been doing so in peaceful ways. The entire Israel-Gaza tragedy is complex and devastating. Students and faculty are courageously protesting against this horrific situation.

It is their right to protest. I’m grateful that these people are not only waking up, but speaking up and telling us how they think and feel about what’s going on in the world today. They are screaming and crying out for change. The core diseases of our world are being recognized. Hatred and violence against others, whether by individuals or groups, cannot and should not occur.

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