Dear editor,

As a resident of California since 2001, I have long carried the stigma attached to being a Caucasian person from Selma. Often, people I encounter cannot understand that Selma can (and hopefully still does) produce people with open minds and open hearts that embrace and value diversity. On the Cosumnes River College campus where I chair the photography department, I also chair a campus committee wholly committed to ensuring that college continues to provide equal access to students, equity in the workplace and the classroom while ensuring our campus’s commitment to cultural competence and diversity.

In a twist of fate and perhaps a little destiny, I have been commended for my ability to communicate effectively and compassionately with people of all walks of life and from extremely diverse backgrounds. Over the years, I have ultimately learned that diversity is more than just “black and white.”

I greatly attribute my interest and commitment to cultural competence to my experience navigating the ever-confusing political and racial landscape of Selma.

I peered at Selma like a voyeur from my television last month, as I proudly waited to see the coverage of the 50th anniversary of the Selma to Montgomery march.  I have always been proud to call Selma my home — I still do even though I have lived away from Selma almost as many years as I lived in and around Selma.

I was proud to see our president interviewed from the Voting Rights Museum in an interview on CBS’s Sunday Morning — I remember visiting the museum as a high schooler and it was wonderful to see how it looks now. I watched the coverage and looked on in awe at the many people that came from all over the world to participate in the commemoration. The coverage opened up a rich dialog with my coworkers, friends and family and allowed me to reflect back to my own experience as a Selmian and the environment that ultimately helped shape the person I have become.

One thing that I felt was missing from the multi-faceted and robust coverage, at least on my end in California, was insight and exposure to the people of Selma — the people who are currently a living testament to what Selma is today.

The personal stories of Selmians were sadly omitted or neglected. I felt that it was a slap in the face to the people who fought valiantly for equality and the right to vote, and to the citizens and leaders of the community since 1965 who have worked to create a more inclusive environment.

Where was the interview with the politician who no longer harbors hatred for the African American citizens of Selma? Where was the first-hand account from the teacher who is able to teach all races in her school?

What about the interview with neighbors of different races living on the same street?  What about the religious leader who sees diversity in worshippers on Sunday?

Where were the stories of the only people who can begin to paint the robust features of tolerance into the portrait of Selma?

Those stories were sadly missing from my vantage point in California. Perhaps I need to ask the national news organizations where those stories were. Hopefully, you are able to see them first hand in Selma.

The events of this past March also allowed me to deeply reflect on my move to California and the nature of how I was perceived as a Selmian. I wondered what motivated the perception of many that I was automatically someone who was intolerant of others.

Perhaps this is what has inspired me over the years to dedicate my efforts to ensure no one on my campus ever has to feel as if they are “the other” or that their voice isn’t important.

I realized that I was a product of a very interesting time in Selma’s history — I am a person who came of age in the late 80’s and early 90’s when Selma experienced yet another division — the school riots of 1990.

I’m sure many people remember being escorted in to Westside Middle School by the National Guard after it had been closed for a week. I remember clearly that things changed immediately. I was one of the few Caucasian students who remained at Westside and I remember adamantly refusing to even consider the thought of attending another school.

I was a Raider. I would not concede, I would not be intimidated — I chose to remain in school at Westside. The school that once seemed so large and intimidating in scope seemed very small very quickly.

My story, in some ways, started that week.

Hopefully the recent commemoration of the Selma to Montgomery march marks be the beginning of a larger conversation that we have with each other.  When we learn a little about each other and our stories, our fears tend to lessen and it’s very hard not to see into someone’s heart.

It’s a natural process.  There is benefit from learning a little something personal about each other every day– learning our own stories makes us stronger.

I would have loved to have heard similar personal stories from those who are living in Selma now, contributing to making Selma a more inclusive environment and carrying on the work that was started many years ago.

Since the national news didn’t highlight those stories, Selmians can pick up the “slack.”

I loved seeing the “20 under 40” highlights in the Selma Magazine, recognizing my peers and their accomplishments and will look forward to seeing more.

 

Kathryn Mayo

Sacramento, California