Panelists featured in the series’ first installment on equity
A community conversation about poverty and education is scheduled for Tuesday, July 17th at the National Civil Rights Museum (NCRM).
It will be the second of three installments in Poverty Unplugged, a series of solution-oriented, community conversations. Hosted by United Way of the Mid-South, the series looks at the intersection of poverty in three different areas.
Tuesday’s installment will focus on access to education and how it can aid personal development. It will also consider the amount of funding in communities that goes to education, if it is enough, and if the funds should be split into other areas.
The panel will consist of Mark Sturgis, executive director of Seeding Success; Danny Song, founder of Believe Memphis Academy; Shante Avant, deputy director of the Women’s Foundation for a Greater Memphis; and Tami Sawyer, local activist and director of diversity and community partnerships for Teach for America.
“Access to an equitable education is still one of the challenges facing our city and
country today,” Sawyer said. “We’re hoping we can bring light to what’s keeping Memphis children from quality education and what practices and solutions we’re delivering in our individual and collective work.”
Kirstin Cheers, with United Way, said the overall goal of the three installments is to increase understanding and awareness in the community around the complexity of poverty and “how the multi-faceted layers connect to determine whether a person advances or dormant in this community.”
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“Additionally, it is a formal nod to the incredible work of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and his final manuscript that included all these topics,” Cheers said. “It started as a partnership with NCRM to ensure the dialogue and steadfast work of fighting poverty continues on in this community beyond April 4th. It took far longer than a day to get here and will take even longer to overcome.”
The first conversation, which was held in April, centered around equity and understanding the difference between equity and equality. The topic for the last installment, which is scheduled for October 2nd, will be fair wages and quality jobs.
In this final installment, there will also be discussion about how the topics of the previous two conversations — equity and education — determine the outlook for individuals and communities seeking self-sufficiency and economic empowerment.
The discussion on Tuesday begins at 7 p.m. and is free and open to the public.
There was a chill in the air, but the sky was clear and the sun was bright as tens of thousands of people from all over the world converged on downtown Memphis for a full day of events commemorating the 50th anniversary of the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
Beginning mid-morning, thousands rallied at Beale and Danny Thomas in front of AFSCME Local 1733 headquarters, where a festival-sized stage had been erected. Speakers, including Senator Bernie Sanders, whipped up the crowd for economic justice, with topics ranging from the need for universal health care to the Fight For $15 movement to increase the minimum wage. Performers included 1980s superstar Sheila E. Maya Smith
Backstage, politicians, and union members mingled. Survivors from the 1968 Sanitation Workers Strike were treated as superstars, with Rev. James Lawson attracting throngs of admirers. Democratic gubernatorial candidate Karl Dean shook hands, praised Dr. Martin Luther King’s legacy of struggle, and affirmed his support for Medicaid expansion in Tennessee.
When it came time for the crowd to become marchers, the schedule slipped, as logistical challenges—as well as the challenge of corralling several thousand fired-up leftists—mounted. There were further delays when media photographers and videographers scrummed as Yolanda Renee King, Dr. King’s granddaughter, took her place at the vanguard of the march. Eventually, organizers and the strong police presence cleared out the media obstructions and the chanting throngs proceeded down Danny Thomas in an more orderly fashion. Included were representatives from the Teamsters, the Airline Pilots Association, and the NAACP, among many other represented groups.
MLK50: A Day to Remember in Memphis
At the National Civil Rights Museum, speakers and music began early in the day as crowds swarmed in and out. From a podium in front of the Lorraine Motel’s fateful room 306, speakers emphasized that, at the end of his life, Dr. King was increasingly concerned with economic justice In contrast with the more hagiographic tone of the 40th anniversary ceremonies, these proceedings were explicitly political. “Agitate, organize vote. And we must stay woke!” was a typical comment from the podium, which was set up on the balcony where King was killed. Rev. Dr. William J. Barber, leader of the revived Poor People’s Campaign, delivered some of the proceedings most powerful words, quoting King with “Nothing would be more tragic than to turn back now…”
In a pointed reference to incidents in Memphis that occurred earlier in the week, Barber said “We lock people up who fight for $15 when we let corporate crooks go every day.”
Barber pointed out the grinding poverty in Memphis before expanding his scope to the entirety of Tennessee, where 1.4 million poor people “Mostly white, mostly women and children” still struggle, while the “governor and the legislature have refused to pass living wage, but they have passed voter suppression, and you have some politicians so arrogant that they will stand on this stage and say they honor Dr. King, while every day they dishonor him with policy.”
Later, the targets of Barber’s words took the stage to the day’s most raucous—and hilarious—reception. Mayor Jim Strickland was greeted with a growing chorus of jeers and chants, which continued as Shelby County Mayor Mark Luttrell spoke. When Congressman Steve Cohen took the stage, the crowd fell respectfully silent and applauded his calls for universal health care. Then it was Governor Bill Haslam’s turn. His good natured, conciliatory boilerplate was greeted with boos and laughter. As he left the stage, the term limited governor was sent off with chants of “Hey hey hey, goodbye.”
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When Rev. Lawson took the podium to eulogize his friend and call to renew Dr. King’s mission in the 21st century, his words echoed across the rapt plaza. Lawson recalled meeting King for the first time on December 8, 1955, and that same day Rosa Parks had said to him “God has given us our Moses.”
Lawson blamed much of our country’s current ills on what he called a culture of violence. “The nonviolent struggle is true to beginning theology and philosophy of American that all men are created equal, and endowed by their creator with the inalienable right to life liberty and pursuit of happiness. That is the language of the nonviolent movement…If we continue our worship of the god of Mars, of violence, we will not only destroy ourselves, we will transform our planet into a cold hunk of starstuff.”
Speakers continued right up until 6:01 PM, when the bell from Clayborn Temple rang out at the moment of Dr. King’s assassination. After a moment of silence punctuated by sobs from the crowd, the opening chords of “Precious Lord” rang out across the plaza. Al Green’s soulful rendition of Dr. King’s favorite spiritual was as powerful and profound a musical moment as this reporter has ever witnessed. Then, as he was joined on the stage by Rev. Jesse Jackson, Green said “They told me to do just one song, but I think we’ve got time for another” and whipped his band into “Love and Happiness” as Jackson grinned and sang along. The final moments of beauty and chaos capped the profoundly moving day in the most Memphis way possible.
Our political columnist Jackson Baker was on the way to cover the day’s events when he fell ill and asked me to fill in for him. I hope I have treated his space with the respect it deserves and wish him a speedy recovery.
I grew up not far from the Lorraine Motel in Memphis, Tennessee, where Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was killed 49 years ago while supporting black sanitation workers who were on strike.
Since Dr. King’s death, my hometown has been remembered as a civil rights milestone. But the story of black and brown workers in Memphis linking arms with advocates for racial justice is not just a chapter of our past — it’s a real part of this city’s present, and I’m proud to be on the front lines.
On April 4th — the anniversary of Dr. King’s assassination — I’m joining thousands of other workers who, like me, are fighting for a $15-an-hour wage and union rights, as we join forces with the Movement for Black Lives to lead a two-dozen-city Fight Racism, Raise Pay protest. The nationwide protests will conclude with a march here in Memphis ending at the Lorraine Motel, where workers, national civil rights leaders, clergy, and elected officials will hold a moment of silence to remember Dr. King’s sacrifice and reflect on our own struggles.
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Our movements are joining together because the fight for economic and racial justice remains as linked today as it was during Dr. King’s time — and I’ve seen firsthand how these two movements share a deep bond. My mother spent her whole life working in the fast-food business to support our family. When I was 14 and my brother was 11, our father left and our mom did what she could to make sure we had everything we needed. Like my mom, I now work as a cashier at Checkers. I have a second job as a housekeeper at a local hotel but still struggle to pay my rent and afford even basic necessities on $7.35 an hour.
I joined the Fight for $15 nearly three years ago because I realized the only way I would have a real shot at a better life is by organizing and going on strike to demand $15 an hour and union rights. But just as it was in the time of Dr. King, when black and brown people speak out, we face harassment and intimidation from those in power, including the police. In Memphis, the Fight for $15 chapter that I am part of recently filed a federal civil rights lawsuit against the city, following years of illegal surveillance by the police in an effort to stifle our protests.
And we have no choice but to protest. Today more than half of black workers and nearly 60 percent of Latinos in America are paid less than $15 an hour. And as black and brown communities continue to face poverty wages, police brutality, and efforts to suppress our right to organize, the Fight for $15 and Movement for Black Lives have emerged to fight civil rights-era racism with 21st century activism.
It would be easy to look at history and think that things can never change, and we do still have a way to go here in Memphis and across the country. But in just a few years since I’ve joined the Fight for $15, we’ve convinced many — from voters to politicians to corporations — that raising pay is a good idea, in the process, winning wage hikes for 22 million workers across the country, including more than 10 million workers who are on their way to a $15-an-hour wage.
In what was ultimately his last speech, “I’ve Been to the Mountaintop,” Dr. King said “The greatness of America is the right to protest for right.” Those of us marching on April 4th know we have the right to protest and won’t be intimidated or silenced. At a time when communities of color are facing attacks — from the White House down to local police departments — joining together is more important now than ever.
Another Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Day is behind us, a weekend in which his life and his dream of equality for all were celebrated with speeches, marches, and good works in the community. It’s easy to forget that this is a relatively recent development. It took 31 years — until 1999 — for the U.S. to officially designate an MLK holiday. Eighteen years later, there are still many in this country who can’t bring themselves to pay respects to the civil rights leader who came to Memphis in support of a sanitation workers strike, gave one of the great speeches in American history, and then was assassinated on the balcony of the Lorraine Motel.
President-elect Trump’s tweet-trashing of civil rights icon, Congressman John Lewis, makes one wonder how King’s activism would be received in 2017. For one, I’ve no doubt that those iconic “I Am A Man” signs would have caused legions of angry white folks to create signs reading “I Am A Man, Too.” King, who was disparaged in his own lifetime as a rabble-rouser and communist, would certainly be labeled a “race hustler” by Sean Hannity and Rush Limbaugh. And if King had dared criticize Trump, is there any question that he would have gotten the same childish response from him that Lewis got?
Trump announced over the weekend that he would retain his personal Twitter account during his presidency, which means we will likely be treated to the continuing spectacle of the leader of the free world using social media to personally respond to every slight he receives. It’s unseemly and juvenile and potentially dangerous. It’s one thing to disparage Meryl Streep and Saturday Night Live, quite another to impulsively insult China or Angela Merkel or NATO.
But there are only two questions that matter at this point: 1) Did the president-elect and/or his campaign operatives know about Russian interference in our election? 2) Does Russia have compromising information on Trump?
Trump has admitted that “Russia probably did it,” referring to hacking DNC emails and other cyber materials to influence the election. His new CIA chief-designate, Mike Pompeo, was less equivocal in his Senate confirmation hearing, calling the hacking “an aggressive action taken by senior leadership inside of Russia,” which is encouraging.
But last week we learned that Trump’s security chief Mike Flynn called the Russian ambassador several times on the day President Obama announced sanctions on Russia for the hacking. Putin then declined to respond to the U.S. sanctions, causing Trump to tweet that he “always knew Putin was smart.” Trump has since said that he would reconsider the sanctions, once in office. Welcome to international diplomacy, Trump-style.
Flynn has a cozy relationship to the Russian government, including with Vladimir Putin. Several other Trump campaign operatives have similar close connections with ranking Russian officials and oligarchs, as does secretary of state nominee, Rex Tillerman. If any of them were aware of the hacking operation during the election cycle, or, more troublingly, if they were somehow communicating about it, the country is facing a grave threat to our democracy: the corrupting of our national election by a hostile foreign power. Is it possible? Certainly. I, for one, find it difficult to believe that Flynn was never in touch with his pals in Russia during the election cycle. But nothing’s been proven.
Outgoing CIA director William Brennan indicated last weekend that an investigation into Trump operatives’ possible involvement in the hacking operation was ongoing. But here’s the rub: If solid evidence of such election tampering (or personal Kompromat on Trump) is uncovered by the FBI after Trump is in office, to whom do they give the information? Trump and Flynn? That’s not going to work. Vice President Mike Pence? Congressional leaders?
Trump has made it clear that he supports policies favored by Putin — the weakening of NATO and European alliances, Russia’s aggressive Syrian intervention, and removing the sanctions put forth by Obama. Does Putin have some secret leverage on the president-elect? No one knows for sure, but it sure is a cozy bromance. Trump has often expressed his admiration of Putin, saying it’s “a great honor to be so nicely complimented by a man so highly respected within his own country and beyond.”
Oh would some power the giftie gie us, to see ourselves as others see us. — Robert Burns
Scottish poet Robert Burns wrote the line above in response to seeing a louse on a high-born lady’s bonnet at church. The point being, of course, that while we might think we’re looking pretty good, someone else might be noticing a flaw we’ve overlooked. The reverse is also true: Others may see virtues in ourselves we have taken for granted or forgotten we had.
Such was the case for me last weekend, when my mother, my brother, and his wife came to spend a few days with us. My brother is a Civil War and history buff, and they’d been traveling through Tennessee and Mississippi, visiting various battlefields and historic sites. They’d enjoyed the history lessons and the scenery but were less than impressed with the plethora of Confederate flags and bumper stickers they’d seen on cars and homes and businesses throughout their travels.
The people of the South, they thought, seemed to have regressed since their last trip through three years ago. Enter Memphis. After a couple of days, the dense canopy of oaks, the rambling houses and neighborhoods, the restaurants, the river views, South Main, and the friendly people they met everywhere they went worked their magic.
“This is no backwater town,” my brother said. “The difference between what we’ve seen on the road and here is really surprising.”
“Well,” I said, “we do have a Nathan Bedford Forrest statue, but it probably won’t be here the next time you come through.”
So we drove to see it. I remained in the car while Perry hustled over to the statue and took a couple of shots. Then, as a palate cleanser, we went to the National Civil Rights Museum.
I hadn’t been to NCRM since the renovation a couple of years back, and I want to tell you — all of you Memphians who haven’t been lately, or ever — get down there and see this museum. It’s so impressive now.
The visit begins in a room dedicated to the history of slavery, with a life-sized statuary of men in chains, in the position in which they were restrained for the trans-Atlantic journey. Maps and interactive displays bring the evils of slavery to life in ways that will stay in your head for days. It should be a required experience for every American, and certainly every Southerner.
After a rather hokey short film, which was the only off-putting note of the entire experience, you journey ever-upward, through Reconstruction, and the Jim Crow era, and into the struggles of the 1960s. The museum’s former touchstones — Rosa Parks’ bus, the iconic lunch counter, the burned-out Freedom Rider bus, the Memphis Sanitation Department truck, Dr. King’s motel room — are all still there, but they’ve been enhanced with other exhibits and made more compelling and engaging.
As you leave the Lorraine Motel building, you are directed across the street into the former rooming house where James Earl Ray(?) pulled the trigger. It’s sobering to look out the sniper’s bathroom window at the balcony where Dr. King fell. Then — surprisingly, for me — you can immerse yourself in every conspiracy theory about the murder you can imagine: Did Ray have help from the FBI? The Mafia? Memphis police officers? A local racist grocer? Each possibility is examined in detail, and evidence and testimony is presented, pro and con. We left the museum not knowing what to believe, but convinced that it was unlikely that Ray acted alone.
That mystery still lingers, as does the memory of an afternoon well-spent.
So go. Take your family and friends. Give yourself that gift.
One of the works from James Pate’s ‘Kin Killin’ Kin’ exhibit
From now until April 29th, the National Civil Rights Museum will be showing works by artist James Pate that compare black-on-black violence to the violent acts of the Ku Klux Klan. But the local chapter of Black Lives Matter has called the exhibit “morally and intellectually dishonest.”
Black Lives Matter will hold a protest outside the Civil Rights Museum on Thursday at 6 p.m., the same time artist Pate will be doing a meet-and-greet with those viewing the exhibit inside the museum.
Pate’s charcoal drawings portray young black men donning KKK hoods or committing acts of gun violence. Cincinnati native Pate, who is black, has said that his work was inspired by conversations he’d had in his own community, in which people had pointed out similarities between gang violence and the KKK’s racist brand of violence.
But a press release issued by the Memphis chapter of Black Lives Matter disagrees with that comparison.
“Comparing ‘black on black’ crime to the KKK, a domestic terrorist organization, is morally and intellectually dishonest and has nothing to do with the history of the Black freedom struggle that is showcased in the National Civil Rights Museum. To equate the KKK to a group of people who have been enslaved, segregated, and degraded into second-class citizenship is callous and outright offensive. Moreover, this exhibit fails to address the root causes of crimes in predominately Black neighborhoods, which is that crime is a reaction to a lack of resources,” read the press release.
After the month we’ve had here in Memphis and Shelby County, with raging debates as to the future of our civic monuments, with a city election heating up that may well determine the shape of our future, and,
finally, with D’Army Bailey, one of our certified local heroes, being laid to rest with a eulogy from the 42nd president of the United States, Bill Clinton, it was wholly appropriate that we should hear a prognosis from Terri Freeman.
Some will wonder: Who is Terri Freeman? She may not be a household name yet, but she will be — the newest president of the National Civil Rights Museum (NCRM), succeeding such legends as Bailey, Benjamin Hooks, and Beverly Robertson. The last of Freeman’s household furnishings arrived Tuesday, the very day she addressed members of the Memphis Rotary Club with her review of the museum’s past and her vision of its — and our — future.
Freeman, whose most recent job was that of president of the Community Foundation in the D.C. area, is a veteran of capital campaign drives, but, as she pointed out on Tuesday, the NCRM’s most recent capital campaign had been completed just as she arrived. So, with a newly renovated facility at her disposal and what would appear to be a sufficient annual budget ($6 million, most of it raised from private donations), her main task would seem to be that of articulating the vision alluded to above and executing it.
And what a vision — one aspect of which is downright mind-boggling, considering what most people’s ideas of civil rights are (i.e., a struggle for human rights that took place roughly 25 to 50 years ago) and what their idea of a museum is (i.e., a place where memories and artifacts of the past are stored for inspection and inspiration).
To be sure, Freeman did not neglect the function of the National Civil Rights Museum as either a place to celebrate history or one to gather instructive and revealing exhibits. Neither duty will be shunted. But what is most thrilling about the prospectus for the NCRM that Freeman revealed was her idea for the kinds of programs that should be featured by the NCRM, which, as she envisions it, will invite the discussion of “difficult questions in a safe space.”
As she spelled out the formula, it was: “No agenda. No right. No wrong. Just a place for dialogue.”
Just imagine that formula being applied to subjects ranging from, say, the currently vexing queston of civic monuments or economic strategies that might make demands of our local power structure or schools and taxes or whatever other problems are currently confounding us.
It’s very close to what the ancient Greeks strived to do in their public forums (sometimes at great risk, as we recall the fate of Socrates), and it is an idea that evokes the very purposes of a democracy. Bring it on, Terri Freeman, and welcome to Memphis!
Along with the sadness that came with our learning on Sunday that the great D’Army Bailey had died of cancer was, first, surprise, because the eminent lawyer/actor/author who was elected a Circuit Court judge last year for
the second time in his life, had been an active presence in the world right up until the end — participating, for example, in a spirited forum in April at the University of Memphis law school on the subject of the 1968 sanitation strike and the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
But, after we had digested the reality of Judge Bailey’s passing, another more soothing thought occurred to us: If there was one factor that motivated D’Army Bailey in life, it was the twin pursuit of equality and justice, qualities that fused into a single idea in his mind, and in the mind, also, of his brother Walter, a longtime county commissioner — the two of them forming a tandem over the years dedicated to the eradication of every vestige of discrimination in either the private or the public sphere.
We took some satisfaction, then, that before he died, D’Army Bailey had seen the beginnings of final success for a cause that was important to him, and which was a continuing preoccupation for his brother Walter — the de-sanctification, as it were, of Confederate General Nathan Bedford Forrest as a symbol of the racist past. Bailey had to know that the Memphis City Council had voted unanimously to remove the statue of Forrest on horseback from a park that no longer bore his name.
D’Army Bailey was a gentle, sensitive man, at home in any company, though his pursuit of justice had forever embroiled him in controversy. A graduate of Booker T. Washington and Clark College, Bailey migrated after graduation from Yale Law School to the San Francisco area, a hotbed of revolutionary ideas in the 1970s. Once there, he pitched into the ferment, got himself quickly elected to the Berkeley City Council and almost as quickly was subjected to a recall election that forced him out. He returned to Memphis to practice law with his brother, but the zeal to pursue human justice was still with him, and, in the course of time, that zeal became the energy that allowed him to midwife into being the National Civil Rights Museum on the Lorraine Motel site of Dr. Martin Luther King’s assassination.
Though he had ample helpers, both in and out of government, the museum was his idea, his creation, and it will be his monument to the world.
He also left for posterity two books on civil rights and charming, credible appearances in several movies, including The People vs. Larry Flynt, which was filmed here in Memphis, so we will still have traces of him in action to cherish.
The U.S. Civil War ended in 1865, but there are many who will tell you that we’re still fighting it and will find evidence of such in Jackson Baker’s cover story about the current battle over General Nathan Bedford Forrest’s statue and gravesite in Memphis.
But the truth is we’re not really still fighting the Civil War of the 1860s; we’re still fighting the “Civil Rights War” of the 1960s.
That’s when all this passion for history and the “Southern way of life” really took off. That’s when there was a huge surge in Confederate park-naming, Confederate hero statue-building, and Confederate flag-raisings over public buildings. The South wasn’t rising again; the defense of racism was rising, under the guise of “heritage.”
In 1964, as civil rights protests and marches were occurring all over the South, Memphis erected a statue of Jefferson Davis downtown. Coincidence? Sure, it was. Oddly, that same coincidence happened in all 11 former Confederate states in the 1960s, as white folks below the Mason-Dixon line rallied around the flag, so to speak, and erected dozens of new historical odes to the Confederacy on public property.
In Mississippi, Governor Ross Barnett famously said ending segregation would be to “drink from the cup of genocide,” and at an Ole Miss football game in 1962 said, “I love Mississippi. I love her people, our customs. I love and respect our heritage.” The crowd was a sea of waving Confederate battle flags. The following week saw riots on campus as whites attacked federal marshalls seeking to integrate the university. To protect Southern customs and heritage, of course.
There are more Civil War historical monuments in the South than monuments to all other wars in U.S. history combined. They dot the landscape like magnolias, populating our parks and city squares, persistent reminders of the ill-fated and bloody attempt to leave the United States and preserve the institution of slavery. Yes, many Confederate soldiers were brave and heroic. And yes, many Southern generals were brilliant tacticians and dashing warriors. But the cause was not noble or glorious. And we’re still paying the price for it.
Still, this is a free country. No one will stop you from flying any flag you choose on your property. No one will begrudge you your right to dress up and reenact glorious — if bloodless — scenes of epic battle. If you want to put the Confederate flag on your bumper or wear it on your T-shirt, go for it. It says more about you than you think.
But if you’ve got a free day and you want to learn something that might alter your perspective, go down to South Main Street and visit the National Civil Rights Museum. The whole, sad, ugly, embarrassing history of Southern racism and the battle for civil rights — the marches, the freedom rides, the burned buses, the murders, the lynchings, the police dogs, the fire hoses, the lunch-counter sit-ins, the church bombings, the forced school integration, the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King — is there. Go see it. Take it in. Let the ignorance and the hate and the horror wash over you.
When you walk out, maybe you won’t be as eager to wave that battle flag. Maybe you’ll even begin to understand why one man’s glorious heritage is another man’s living hell.
The decisions by two separate grand juries to not indict the officers responsible for the deaths of Michael Brown and Eric Garner have inspired a bill that would prohibit all Tennessee law enforcement agencies from racially profiling citizens.
Sen. Brian Kelsey (R-Germantown), who is co-sponsoring the bill with Rep. John DeBerry (D-Memphis), said the precise details of the policies would be left to each police and sheriff’s department as long as they prohibit the detention, interdiction, or other disparate treatment of individuals based on race.
“Six in 10 white Americans have quite a lot of confidence in the police, but only three in 10 African Americans do,” Kelsey said. “The Racial Profiling Prevention Act is not intended as an attack on law enforcement but rather an attack on discrimination. Having a clearly written policy prohibiting racial profiling will help officers do their jobs better and have confidence that they are following the law.”
If passed, each law enforcement agency would be required to adopt a written policy by January 1, 2016.
The proposed bill comes on the heels of U.S. Attorney General Eric Holder’s announcement of recently enforced anti-profiling guidelines that ban federal law enforcement agencies from using race, religion, gender, or sexual orientation as a factor during investigations, unless deemed relevant to a particular case.
Holder was in Memphis on December 9th to participate in the My Brother’s Keeper local summit — an event inspired by President Barack Obama’s new initiative of the same name that seeks to increase the country’s number of successful black men.
The five-hour summit took place at the Hattiloo Theatre and brought together representatives from the city, Memphis Police Department, Shelby County Schools, and various nonprofit agencies.
Attendees participated in sessions about education, community outreach, employment, health care and justice.
The summit’s moderator, Douglas Scarboro, said it’s extremely important to place more focus on establishing ways to help young minority males overcome systemic barriers that could hinder success.
“Over the years, we haven’t had enough intentional effort around men and boys of color and helping them be all that they can be,” said Scarboro, the city’s executive director of talent and human capital.“I think it’s extremely sad that we’ve had the instances that we’ve had with Michael Brown and more recently with a number of individuals across the nation. I think what’s the saddest is regardless of the standard of life, I think every African-American male has a story about some kind of interaction, whether correct or incorrect, [with the police].”
During the summit’s final session, Holder condemned racial profiling, reflected on personal encounters with law enforcement, and discussed the new anti-trafficking guidelines.
Afterward, Holder traveled to the National Civil Rights Museum, where he encountered a crowd of people protesting police brutality and racial profiling.
As he stood on the balcony of the Lorraine Motel, the same place where Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated in April 1968, Holder was questioned through a bullhorn by Paul Garner, the organizing coordinator for the Mid-South Peace & Justice Center.
Garner inquired about several things including state and local officers being required to adhere to the new anti-profiling guidelines and officers wearing body cameras.
“We’re waiting to see what kind of concrete steps are going to be taken by this administration, and how these new ideas and these new concepts about community-police relations will be applied here in Memphis,” Garner said. “If we’re going to talk about solutions, we also have to talk about history. We have to take into consideration a whole history of racism.”
United Way 
Maya Smith 
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Bruce VanWyngarden 
James Pate 
Jefferson Davis statue in Memphis