In 1988, as a supporter of Jesse Jackson’s presidential campaign, I traveled throughout the South organizing and writing. Selma, AL was one of my stopping points. My schedule put me in the historic town right at the time of the annual Bridge Crossing Jubilee, which commemorates the 1965 march from Selma to Montgomery. (That’s the civil description; I prefer to call it “Bloody Sunday,” which most vividly and accurately describes the event.)
The untreated wounds of Central Visual and Performing Arts (CVPA) High shooting survivors
I really don’t know why there has been no concerted response. Maybe it’s because of the general chaos in this society that we don’t focus on the needs and concerns of children and youth. Maybe it’s because adults don’t really know how to respond. I refuse to believe it’s because we do not care. But when a student survivor of St. Louis’ first school shooting came to me for a platform to express her discounted pain, I wondered about us as a society.