THE WORLD BETWEEN MS. LAWRENCE AND MY MOTHER: GIVING OUR ELDERS RESPECT & GRACE. By: L.M. Johnson

Introduction

A few years ago, I embarked on what would be my first of several visits to The National Memorial for Peace and Justice in Montgomery, Alabama. My initial journey would prove unforgettable to me for several reasons. On that day in July, I was able to sit in complete solitude, allowing myself to fully absorb the magnitude of the memorial in a way that few are fortunate enough to experience.

Seated alone in the Alabama heat, it was the silence which afforded me the ability to be in spiritual community with my ancestors, who had been murdered via the method of lynching throughout the United States. These individuals, victims of unbridled hate, were dehumanized and met their deaths at the hands of a barbarous society that took hedonistic pleasure in the act of lynching humans.

As you read the signs at the memorial, you’ll learn that some of these public murders occurred in the presence of thousands of spectators. Some were even advertised in newspapers beforehand, as if a carnival were coming to town. It was also not uncommon for parents to take their children to point, gawk and revel in the hate crimes as they took place. The savagery went on to include spectators scavenging “souvenirs” after the lynching in the form of body parts from the deceased Black victims.

My visit to EJI’s memorial resonated with me for so many reasons but, what really captured my attention was the following sign:

Ms. Elizabeth Lawrence was no kin to me. However, what stood out for me was that she was born just nine years before my mother, also a native of Alabama and lived approximately 126 miles from Ms. Lawrence. I stood before this sign for several minutes envisioning what Ms. Lawrence may have looked like. In my mind, I was certain that she had raised white children like the ones she admonished on that day in 1933.

Times had not changed when my mother was born. In fact, research conducted by The Equal Justice Initiative (EJI) discovered that twelve Southern states witnessed approximately 4,084 “racial terror lynchings between 1877 and 1950.” [1]

“Racial terror lynching” embodies the practice of terrorism, perpetuating a constant state of fear amongst the oppressed, dehumanizing citizens and entire communities as they inflicted trauma upon Black bodies to maintain control and superiority. For this reason, my mother, like thousands of others, migrated north to New York City.  I can’t help but think of Ms. Elizabeth Lawrence and how EJI has memorialized her. Her name could have been any one of my relatives – even my mother’s.

No one should die for standing up against an injustice or for demanding basic respect.  Moreover, no one should have to live with the trauma and PTSD that accompanies racism.

Laypersons speak of PTSD and trauma with limited understandings or experience. This is not surprising as Racial Trauma has yet to be formally recognized and is therefore not included in the latest version of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5). To speak of it would mean to acknowledge both its presence and (potentially) its perpetrators.  My training to become a Mental Health Counselor did not include many courses in treating the PTSD that accompanies the terror of White Supremacy. However, what I know to be true is that Racial Trauma is a reality. For those who rely on science for confirmation, we can point to the fact that neuroimaging has detected the effects of workplace racism on brain scans.

The term “generational trauma” (also real) gets tossed around, but how many have a true and compassionate understanding of what it looks like at home? Specifically, what it looks like in Black homes?

Many of us, grew up in homes with parents who were conditioned to center the comfort and placate the insecurities of white folks in every space they occupied. Our parents were raised as they were through no fault of their own. In turn, we were instructed on how to dress, how to wear our hair, to speak “proper English,” be “professional,” and “work twice as hard” to secure “good” jobs.  This was the epitome of generational trauma and the perpetuation of White Supremacy.

From a mental health perspective, I can’t be certain that asking our elders to sit with the information and experiences that they would have to rehash and unlearn (in the name of decolonizing) would be a healthy psychological practice. I would never challenge my mother (at 81 years old) with the emotional task of unlearning that which has aided in her survival as it has also been a source of immense pain. Where does this leave my mother and those of her generation? I would, respectfully say it leaves them with the need to receive infinite grace. It’s inevitable that our parents and elders will teach others as they were taught. I accept this.

We often hear people loosely say things like “I’m not my ancestors; you can get these hands.” I beg to differ when you are certain that the consequences are deadly. I can only imagine that Ms. Elizabeth Lawrence was tired. I submit that it was never the case that Ms. Lawrence was weak. More often than not, her mortality depended on her strength and her silence secured it.  

Yet, for Ms. Lawrence, the continuous disrespect had to be unbearable. As a resident of Alabama, she wasn’t ignorant to the possible outcomes of her actions by reprimanding these white children, even when they were wrong (as they often were). In that moment, when she was being hit with rocks and having suffered countless other acts of disrespect as a Black woman, Ms. Lawrence probably felt that she had to take a stand. Inevitably, it cost her her life.

Given these realities, I am thankful that my mother migrated to New York. I am thankful for my insights and education relating to racial trauma and racial terrorism. I should never be so arrogant as to measure my NYU education against my mother’s lived experiences. I know that had she had the choice, her experiences and environment would have been healthier. Her options would have been greater.

Nonetheless, I am cognizant of the fact that the advice that my mother gives to my children centers their safety and well-being. Aside from love, ensuring the daily safety and well-being of your family was born of racial terrorism in Jim Crow Alabama. Therefore, I ask: If, knowing what we know to be true about White Supremacy, Racialized and Generational Traumas, we viewed the words, actions and intentions of our parents and elders through the lens of the desire to safeguard their loved ones, can we bestow upon them the appropriate amount of respect and grace that they deserve? 

I am confident that my mother is proud of me. Because of her, I am empowered to be my authentic self and raise my children to recognize why we must both give our elders grace and disrupt the automated machine of White Supremacy. It is this same machine which is fueled when we center white comfort as opposed to our individual Black voices, joy and excellence. For these reasons, I invite my mother to teach my children that which she wishes to share as our history is also rich and worthy of preservation.

• Photo Credit:  The National Memorial for Peace and Justice in Montgomery, Alabama.

[1] https://eji.org/wp-content/uploads/2005/11/lynching-in-america-3d-ed-110121.pdf