The following blog was written by Giles Holt, UUSC's JustWorks intern, during Freedom Summer: A Civil Rights Journey 2008.

On our Civil Rights Journey, it became apparent to me that what Martin Luther King, Rosa Parks, the Congress of Racial Equality, and others were fighting for was not just civil rights. These men and women were engaged in a struggle for human rights. They were fighting for a common dignity.

I embarked on this journey to learn about part of our nation's history. At first, my approach was academic. Yet, when history still lives on, that approach is impossible. I ended my journey with an entirely new conception of what I was doing.

For the first half of our week together, I remained unchallenged. I could walk into a museum, listen to a speech about the history of the place, read the plaques, and leave feeling contented that I had broadened my perspective. I was learning, but I could have sat at a desk and received a lot of that same information.

But a transition from history to life, and from trip to journey, began to take place as the week progressed, as our workshop facilitator Dr. Kimberley Roberts led us through discussions of equality and humanity, and as the lessons presented at various historical sites began to strengthen. I found that the facts, dates, and morals that I was learning only became understanding as I put them into direct action.

On Thursday and Friday, we applied our historical and moral lessons. We traveled to the Bethesda Church in Brighton, Ala., one of thirty churches in a small city of 3,600 people, with a membership of around one hundred. While the church had undergone significant renovations, it was still in need of extensive work. The outside paint was peeling, and there appeared to be water damage on the inside. But this did not deter the minister or the congregation from committing to a course of social action and leadership in their community.

The congregation had applied for — and received — a grant from Home Depot to repair several houses in the community. This is where we came in.

With a group of forty-two Civil Rights Journey participants, we were able to work on four work projects in Brighton.

My team was assigned to Mrs. Ethel Young's house, a two-story building. Mr. Norman, the project coordinator and a leader in the Bethesda church, arrived to check on our team. Placing a hand on my shoulder, he asked, "Do you need anything, brother Giles?" This recognition of our shared place in a struggle that has come to encompass so much of our nation affirmed my humanity in a way that I had yet to experience.

It was through our service and action that we were able to take up the civil-rights and human-rights struggle that was started so many years before, and for two days, we won that struggle.

Attachment	Size
service.jpg	53.85 KB

Stephanie Hanway, of Laramie, Wyoming

The following blog was written by Stephanie Hanway, of Laramie, Wyo., while participating in UUSC's annual Freedom Summer: A Civil Rights Journey. She is 18 years old.

I came on this trip clueless. When we were in Selma, I was scared to get off the bus, thinking it was Salem [where the witch trials took place]. I also grew up thinking Georgia was the capitol of Alabama, when both are states.

What drew my attention to this trip was the chance to travel; however, that is not entirely why I continue. It has been my blessing not only to travel in the present, but also to travel in the past and experience history.

Because I am Arapahoe, Native American, slavery is not part of my heritage. That's not to say that I can't take something from the civil rights movement to help my people, my country, and myself — just like Martin Luther King, Jr., was inspired by Gandhi.

If there is any hope for me to one day help my people, I must first find that hope in myself. And that is what this trip has guided me towards.

Race, gender, age, and class are all part of a puzzle. And not to look at it is not to solve it. The first step in fighting any oppression is not just knowing where we stand, but allowing everyone else to know it, as well. Being of an outside minority has allowed me to see the same things, but from a different perspective.

It is an honor to thank the program for instilling this seed of knowledge in me to aspire to grow more bountifully, both inside and out. The greatest thing that I appreciate from this trip is the way I was invited, rather than pushed, through the doors of history. One can only remember so much in a classroom, but one remembers so much of her own personal experiences.

This truly was a journey, in itself.

The following blog post was written by Camilo Mejia while participating in UUSC's annual Freedom Summer: Civil Rights Journey. Mejia is a nationally recognized peace activist and the first Iraq war veteran to publicly refuse to return to combat.

Day 3 of the Civil Rights Journey started at 7 a.m. with a traditional southern breakfast at the Capitol Inn's café. By 8 a.m. we were well on our way to Selma, Ala., where our day would begin with a visit to The National Voting Rights Museum and Institute.

Alabama police attack Selma-to-Montgomery Marchers, 1965.

The 45-minute bus ride to Selma wasn't long enough to finish the Eyes on the Prize: America's Civil Rights Movement, 1954-1985 episode on the battle against segregation in the lunch counters and downtown stores of Nashville, Tenn. Still, it was a great introduction to a day that would take us down the path of resistance to segregation in two historical events: Bloody Sunday and the Selma-to-Montgomery March.

Sam Walker, our guide at The National Voting Rights Museum and Institute, gave us a lively presentation about the main events, such as the killing of Jimmie Lee Jackson and the shutting down of registration centers in order to prevent African American citizens from voting, which launched the two historic marches. We then learned how the marches were organized and carried out, initially viewed as setbacks by some, but then leading to two crucial victories in the movement: a federal judge's decision to uphold the protesters' right to march and force the government to provide protection for the marchers.

Our second stop was the most powerful of the day. It seemed a bit odd, as I got out of the bus at The Slavery and Civil War Museum, that one of the guides told me to "get over there with the men, against the wall!" At first I didn't make much of it, but then she told us (men and women) to bow our heads and to avoid making eye contact with her. What followed was an incredibly intense interactive reenactment of the treatment of African slaves, from their capture in Africa all the way to slave markets in the United States.

"Can you imagine..." asked the guide in a dark and scary chamber that resembled the belly of a slave ship, "... being taken away from your family; never again seeing your wives; never again seeing your husbands, your children, your home, only because of the color of your skin?" "Can you imagine..." she continued, "... being chained to a person who's dying or dead? Can you imagine one of your friends being cut up in pieces and then fed to you, only because of the color of your skin?"

The tour continued through more rooms, each challenging us more and more not only to absorb the history in an abstract way, but also to physically put ourselves into situations that made us feel just a tiny bit closer to the horrible realities that were the lives of slaves.

More traditional southern food and stops at historical sites in Selma followed our visit, but that visit and the intense realism of it was by far the greatest lesson of day three of this amazing journey. If all people were able to visit The Slavery Museum and get but a small taste of the inherent cruelty, violence, and brutality behind racism and its byproducts (slavery, lynching, segregation, etc.), I think the struggle for equality would be much easier to win. If only we could educate people; if we used history to learn from our mistakes instead of perpetuating them by ignoring it, I think the world would be a much better place.

Can you imagine?

Edward Loomis, of Chicago, Ill., wrote the following blog post while participating in UUSC's annual Freedom Summer: Civil Rights Journey.

The following blog was written by Richard C. Bozian, M.D., of Cincinnati, Ohio, who participated in a JustJourney in Mexico exploring economic justice.

For most of the first four days of our JustJourney, we were somewhat weighed down by the negative impacts of the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) and globalization on everyday life in Mexico -- both for city folks and small farmers. It is no wonder that thousands seek economic survival by migrating to the United States.

Our experience at the ejido (commune or collective) of Vicente Guerrero (a town of 850 people), and its autonomous subunit, El Proyecto de Desarrollo Rural Integral Vicente Guerrero, A.C. (or, more commonly, el grupo Vicente Guerrero), was like a cold beer on a hot summer day.

Some 25 or so years before, an intrepid leader introduced farming techniques borrowed from abroad. Objectives were: developing sustainable agricultural techniques, preservation of the identity and independence of the farmer, increasing productivity of its farms, and, more recently, blocking the introduction of hybrid or genetically modified farm seeds.

They wished to avoid the dependency fostered by single-crop farming by rotating crops. They began using terracing and grading to avoid soil erosion and recycling organic waste to eliminate chemical fertilizers. They started planting trees with repellent properties, thereby avoiding insecticides. The goal has been to move beyond mere subsistence farming to diversification and direct marketing. This model program did not arise by chance; it is the product of openness and experimentation. It's eco-friendly and avoids the dependency that leads to migration to the big city, where there aren't enough jobs.

That evening, we walked to a nearby farm where my fellow JustJourney-ers Bob Alpern, Suzanne Skaer, Ariel Jacobson and I spent the night with a delightful local host family. Mother Patricia and her two daughters, Erica and Barbara Ann, escorted us around their 100-acre farm, which incorporates all of the features I mentioned above. It was impressive.

The husband's family has owned the farm for 14 years, and on the surface it was a thriving enterprise. They had sheep, lambs, rabbits, horses, mules, and chickens, each providing labor or food. Saddening, though, was the fact that the husband/father had been spending April to November in Houston working as a gardener for the past seven years. Patricia said that his wages, though not great, were reasonable and vital to their survival. They could not manage without this extra income because of the low price of corn and soybeans, the result of dumping by agribusinesses that are subsidized by our government.

Fortunately for them, unlike folks in the city, they produce their own food. Food prices in Mexico have risen mercilessly because of the monopoly of imports allowed under the rules of NAFTA.

Encouraging was the fact that Barbara Ann was considering going on to high school after middle school -- unusual for a girl in a rural community. The mother was cute when we asked about her expertise in the kitchen. She flip-flopped her hands with a so-so gesture. Little Erica played hide-and-seek with us the whole night and morning.

I would like to close with a commentary on a sign in front of their elementary/middle school. The sign reads, “Our schools will have to become places where human beings are valued for their humanity, and not only for their intelligence”. Would that we could adopt such a philosophy in our technologized society. They've respected and used science, but have not forgotten the very same principles that we, Unitarian Universalists, so value.

The following blog was written by Nancy Bennett, of Santa Fe, N.M., who participated in a JustJourney in Mexico exploring economic justice.

It’s been over a week now since I returned home from our JustJourney to Mexico – but I’m still not feeling quite at home. I’m coming to realize that I probably won’t ever feel at home in the same way I had before the trip. Home has a different meaning for me now – a larger meaning, and a less comfortable meaning.

Before experiencing this JustJourney, I had thought about international trade in terms of how it affects people in my country (the United States) and, separately, how it affects people in other countries, such as Mexico. I now realize that it is incumbent on me – on us – to develop as full an understanding as possible of the interrelated effects of trade and free-trade agreements on all parties. This is painfully clear in the case of the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA).

Although I’d had from the time of its proposal some concern about NAFTA’s possible impact on U.S. industrial workers, I’d had fewer worries about its impact on Mexican workers. However, not long after NAFTA went into effect, some very disturbing stories arose...stories about Mexicans having to leave their small farms because they were unable to compete with the burgeoning inflow of government-subsidized U.S. corn, stories about extremely low wages being paid to assembly workers in maquilas (foreign-owned factories), and stories about some of those maquilas being shut down after workers organized to demand higher wages.

Still, it seemed to me that there must be more to these stories. I couldn’t believe that the United States would be party to a trade agreement that fostered such great inequity and caused such hardship to the people of our trading nation, in this case, Mexico. I couldn’t believe that the United States would be party to a trade agreement that undermined the economy and culture of Mexico and virtually guaranteed a massive increase in Mexican migration to the United States.

Our JustJourney included visits to Mexico City, Puebla, Atlixco, and Vicente Guerrero. From our formal and informal meetings with members of these communities, I learned that, yes, there was more to the stories – but that “more” made evident the very irrational realities behind U.S. economic policies in Mexico. I realized

1) NAFTA has, indeed, wreaked havoc on the lives of many Mexicans, and

2) The governments of Mexico and the United States have allowed the interests of international corporations to take precedence over the well-being of people.

The real story is about corporate profit, corporate greed.

Corporate greed is to blame for the profound economic deprivation in Mexico that compels thousands upon thousands of Mexicans to leave their families, friends, and social traditions and risk their freedom, safety, and even their lives in order to migrate to the United States to find work. For most migrants, immigration represents the only chance of being able to support themselves and their families back in Mexico.

This reality is not well known in the United States. Instead, we hear outcries against immigrants who are stealing our jobs and the high cost incurred by our trying to keep these desperate people out of our country.

I would submit that were NAFTA to be renegotiated to include protections for Mexican agriculture and Mexican workers, the problem of immigration from our south would be greatly diminished. If the United States were to approach future U.S.-Mexico trade agreements so that the well-being of people in both countries take precedence over the profits of multinational corporations, undocumented migration to the United States would cease to be a significant problem at all.

If those who negotiate international trade agreements were to experience a JustJourney, a journey that opened their eyes, ears, minds, and hearts to the realities of life in Mexico under NAFTA, could they ever again put forth such a destructive policy? I don’t think they could. For when one knows and feels harsh realities, those realities become part of one’s own reality. “Their” home becomes as one’s own home – and a more just reality becomes an imperative.

The following blog was written by Sue Gross, of Wooster, Ohio, who participated in a JustJourney in Mexico exploring economic justice.

After a very busy week in Mexico -- learning about worker’s rights, unions, and sustainable farming, visiting the U.S. embassy, and getting to know the other members of my group -- a UU Sunday service in Mexico City was the perfect way to end my time here.

The service was held in Esteban and his partner’s lovely apartment, which was filled with all types of religious icons (Christian, Jewish, African). That’s how we UUs are, we respect all religions. They were very welcoming, and I felt at home immediately.

Everyone received a yellow floral corsage, yellow being the symbol of friendship in the Americas.

Esteban began the service by playing "Mother of the Land" on the organ, while another congregant lit the chalice. The opening words were "Come caravan of Love, and come back again." Our bulletin was in Spanish, as was the service. But it was easy for me to follow along. Xenia, UUSC's Senior Associate for JustJourneys, served as our interpreter. We sang four verses of the hymn "Danos un Corazón" ["Give us a heart"] a capella, and we were pretty good!

I felt so moved by it all. Feeling overwhelmed that soon the week would end, my eyes filled with tears. It was time for Joys and Concerns, my very favorite part of the UU service. This is what makes UU services stand apart. I decided to go first. I said how beautiful the service was and how difficult a good-bye would be. I don’t think I was the only one so moved. Others voiced concerns about PeMex (the Mexican oil/petroleum company, which the Mexican government wants to privatize) and their desire to learn, help, and care for each other on a personal level.

There was a final reading with responses and, after the service, a delicious lunch. Their hospitality was endless, and it was obvious that they enjoyed having us visit. Then it was on to the airport.

I will always remember this special UU service.