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MAR 2022- From Fear to Courage

3/19/2022

3 Comments

 
Picture
Protest against Rosenburgs' Execution, New York, 1953
My mother told me we were going to join the march to protest the execution of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg. I was terrified. I’d heard about the violence perpetrated by angry bystanders against people protesting outside of Sing Sing Prison. If I could have figured out a way to say no, I would have, but my mother framed it as a moral obligation and I knew, despite my fear, she was right.

Protest Against Rosenberg Execution

June 19, 1953. At around 8 p.m. the U.S. government sent Julius and Ethel Rosenberg to the electric chair at Sing Sing prison. Thousands demonstrated around the world demanding a last-minute stay. It would become the most controversial death sentence in U.S. history.
http://bit.ly/14uTQZB
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Supporters made last-minute attempts to save their lives, with almost 10,000 turning out for a vigil on the day their execution was scheduled to take place. Unfortunately, it was too little, too late. Despite nine appeals to the Supreme Court, clemency requests to Presidents Harry Truman and Dwight Eisenhower, and a last-minute stay by Supreme Court Justice William Douglas, the Rosenbergs were executed on June 19, 1953–their 14th wedding anniversary.
http://bit.ly/10BXpsX

We took the subway into Manhattan and joined a crowd of people already marching. Just as I feared, people, mostly young men, were shouting curses and anti-Semitic remarks, hurling bottles and cans, threatening to kill us all. My mother, angry at the injustice of the execution and the taunts from the bystanders, speaking from years of attending protest marches, said, “Ignore them. They feed on your fear.” 

Easier said than done. I couldn’t stop shaking, especially after a bottle hit the man marching next to me, seeing the blood gush from his head. A woman put her handkerchief against the wound and suggested he leave, but he refused. “I’m not letting those bastards win.”

My shaking got so bad I could hardly walk. I felt like I was going to throw up. Then, from behind, I heard singing. As people heard they joined in. I knew the song. Knew the words. “We shall not, we shall not be moved. We shall not, we shall not be moved. Just like a tree that’s standing in the water, we shall not be moved. “

People around me sang, their voices strong and clear. I began to sing with them, and as my voice found its power, my fear disappeared. I felt proud to be part of history, part of thousands of people protesting injustice. For the rest of the march, I walked with newly found resolution. When I saw a can coming toward me I deflected it. It seemed that as the curses and yells grew stronger, and the bottles and cans more numerous, my courage strengthened. 

I took my mother’s hand and squeezed it. She squeezed back, smiling her approval. One of the few times in my life that my mother and I were in accord, doing what we knew was right, in the company of thousands who were marching for justice.

What gives you courage in a difficult situation?
3 Comments
Marlene Simon
3/3/2022 11:56:49 am

Another touching and beautiful story from Nancy. When I first saw the photo with the crowds I thought it was in reference to the war on Ukraine. Things don't seem to change much. Even though the issues are completely different, it demonstrates how people need to express their feelings as a group to injustices. It is so primal. There is a particularly poignancy to the electrocution of a woman and a Jew especially a few years after WWII. And a husband and wife, especially on their wedding anniversary is uniquely heinous. Any kind of murder whether one person against another or in the name of the state is inhuman and inhumane. I have to admit that I have had some murderous thoughts these last few days, but could I ever carry it out? I don't know and I hope that I never find myself in that kind of situation, but we don't seem to have come very far since the end of WWII. You really made that march come alive and it was a sweet story about you and your mom connecting in such a positive way. I was very touched.

Reply
Soma link
3/3/2022 12:11:14 pm

I guess I am able to remember who I am in the midst of adversity. It is the bodily experience of the difficulty that shows me the contrast to who I really am and I can let it be and send it kindness. Not easy. I also think of all the sh-- I've been through and think, "I'm a tough old broad". And, "it could be worse".

So much gratitude and love for you Nancy.

Reply
judie
3/4/2022 06:56:11 pm

you really were part of history. something to be proud of. you learned courage that day.

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Nancy King is a widely published author and a professor emerita at the University of Delaware, where she has taught theater, drama, playwriting, creative writing, and multidisciplinary studies with an emphasis on world literature. She has published seven previous works of nonfiction and five novels. Her new memoir, Breaking the Silence, explores the power of stories in healing from trauma and abuse. Her career has emphasized the use of her own experience in being silenced to encourage students to find their voices and to express their thoughts, feelings, and experiences with authenticity, as a way to add meaning to their lives.

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