For La Tanya Butler, childhood memories are imbued with the injustices that Black people regularly endured at the hands of white people at a time when discrimination was enshrined in law.
Then, under pressure from the Black community, the laws began to change. However, changing people’s behaviour was much harder. The desegregation of schools, whereby Black children were admitted to schools previously reserved for white pupils, was a dramatic process in which La Tanya participated.
You grew up in Birmingham, Alabama, in the 1960s. What was life like for you, given that you came from an African-American family? At what age did you first become aware of segregation and racial discrimination? What are your earliest memories of this?
Even as a toddler, I think you could see it, although you might not have fully understood the situation. For example, when I was a child, Black people had to sit at the back of the bus. I didn’t go on the bus very often, but I knew that was how it was.
If some white people needed seats…
…then Black people had to stand up.
They had to give up their seats.
Yes.
Just because of the colour of their skin. What else do you remember?
I had aunts who worked for white families in the affluent area of Mountain Brook, in Birmingham. They were domestic workers and would leave for work early in the morning, leaving their children to walk to school alone unless they had a grandmother or other family member to accompany them. They’d do everything they had to do, then come home in the evening, exhausted from cooking and cleaning all day. But that was their job, and they were glad to have it, as it meant they could earn money to eventually buy a house or a car so they wouldn’t have to take the bus anymore.
How did you get to school?
My mom was a teacher, so she’d drive us there and back with her.
Was the school only for African Americans?
Yes. As early as 1896, the “separate but equal” law had been passed, which meant that African Americans had to attend separate schools that were just like those for white people.
That had been the first step.
Yes, then in 1954 the situation changed with the Supreme Court’s ruling in Brown v. Board of Education. This held that “separate but equal” was unconstitutional and that the state therefore had to integrate schools. However, it was certainly a very difficult and slow process from our perspective. It was a challenging time: not only was it difficult to get the law passed, but it was also hard to implement the changes.
Now, let’s talk more about your memories and feelings from before the struggle for school integration began. I suppose you were brought up believing that you weren’t allowed to go to certain places. What were some of the rules for Black children?
We drank water from separate taps. The water was the same, but one tap was marked “white” and the other “black”. The toilets were also marked as being for white or Black people.
Do you think they were any different?
The water was the same…
But do you think the toilets were any different?
I know they were.
You do?
Yes. They weren’t maintained to the same standard, and they didn’t have the same facilities inside either.
So, the ones for people of colour were inferior in every respect.
Yes.
And you knew that.
Absolutely, because you could see it. Even the waiting rooms were different. For example, one had a bench and the other had chairs. In one place, there might be vending machines and drinking fountains; in the other, there might just be concrete floors.
Do you remember wondering why things were like that, or whether you felt it was unfair? Or did you just accept it as the way things were?
It was clear that it was unfair. I knew about the enslavement of our ancestors; most of what I knew I had learnt from my mother’s stories about her childhood during the Great Depression and how difficult things had been. Her father was an entrepreneur and he and his brothers owned a lot of land. White people repeatedly and illegally seized plots of this land. I was told about this difficult situation, so I became aware of it.
Have you ever been the target of racially motivated insults or abuse?
Yes, every black person has experienced these things. We were always taught to ignore them. For example, someone would ring the doorbell looking for my mother and ask, “Is Susie there? Can I speak to her?” My mother would then reply, “Don’t call me Susie, I’m Mrs Jones.” Or, someone would call her on the phone using her first name, only for them to then introduce themselves as Mrs Smith. She refused to accept such humiliation.
Do you ever remember ignoring or defying written or unwritten rules and being punished for it?
No. In life, there are things you simply mustn’t do; one of them is breaking the law. People were being thrown into prison unjustly for all sorts of things.So why would you end up there for something you know is illegal? It was only when Martin Luther King Jr. started organising marches with his supporters that things changed.
You were still quite young back then. But do you remember that time?
Absolutely. I wanted to take part in the marches.
Birmingham was a hub for…
Yes, it was a key location for such actions and Martin Luther King would come quite frequently to give speeches in our church.
The church was therefore a place where the message of emancipation and equal human value was promoted more than in other places.
Absolutely. This happened both at church and at home. At home, you learned that you were just as valuable and important as others; that you were their equal. You might not have had all the same opportunities as others, but that was simply because the right opportunities hadn’t been available to you, not because you lacked the necessary abilities. My mother always emphasised this. Furthermore, when I was a child, the pastor would tell us that we could achieve anything.
How did you perceive this emancipation message? Was it a separate topic, with the Gospel about Jesus being preached first, and then the sermon moved on to a different subject, such as empowerment and social justice? Or were the two intertwined, with the gospel highlighting the struggle for social justice and presenting it as an integral part of the Gospel?
We were told that Jesus died for everyone and that this made us all equal. Just because some people don’t realise we’re equal doesn’t mean we aren’t. That is merely their perception, and you cannot let other people’s opinions of you determine your destiny. In church, spirituality was discussed, but education was also promoted as a means of bringing about change.
The non-violent movement campaigned for the education of young people so they would be prepared for opportunities as they arose. Non-violence was promoted because losing your temper or doing things that would make your life harder, land you in prison or have other negative consequences would steer your life in an unwanted direction.
So non-violence was an essential part of the struggle for social justice.
Yes. Another thing is that, just as in church, we were taught at home that, as black people, we are strong. This strength enabled the slaves to survive, which is why they did not all die. Harriet Tubman’s inner strength enabled her to organise the underground network that took Black people from the South to the North and set them free. Mothers on the plantations did everything they could to instil strength in their children, regardless of their fathers’ identities. Often, the plantation owner was the father. At other times, the men chosen to impregnate the women who were strong and robust and could thus produce more slaves.
Was the call for non-violence generally respected?
Yes, absolutely.
This is remarkable, given how much pent-up anger there was.
That’s right. That’s why I don’t like seeing what happens today when things sometimes get out of hand during marches. But non-violence was also practised as a sign of humility.
We were demanding what was rightfully ours: equal opportunities under the law and equality in terms of where we could sit, work, play, and travel. Those were our only demands.
We wanted the fact that we are equal to be demonstrated, not just stated, before the law and in other ways.
Have you ever been to a place where Martin Luther King preached? Do you remember anything about it? What sort of person was he? How did he speak? How did his listeners react?
He was a dynamic man and a powerful orator, zealous and passionate, yet gentle too.
An interesting combination!
Yes. He was highly educated and a true preacher. Even when he spoke of the injustices suffered by our people, he would say, as Jesus did on the cross: “Forgive them, for they know not what they do!” We too had to forgive them because they did not know what they were doing. They were simply continuing a misguided way of life that had been passed down to them.
You were part of the generation that experienced the integration of high schools in Tuscaloosa, Alabama, in 1965. Tell us how it happened.
The laws on school integration had been passed and were being enforced in some places. But in Alabama and many other parts of the South, there was strong resistance.
What was the approach? Were Black children to be admitted to schools previously reserved for white children? Or were white children to attend schools previously intended for Black children? I can see you’re laughing…
I feel like laughing because no white parent wanted to send their child to a school for black children.
So that wasn’t even up for discussion.
We had to go to their schools. When I started in 1965, I expected to be accepted by the other children quite naturally, but they didn’t accept me. On the first day, my mom drove me and a friend to school, but the school administration asked that the Black pupils not attend lessons.
This came after lengthy preparations, political debates, and agreements. The law stipulating that integration was to take place in Tuscaloosa on that date had already been passed.
When we arrived at the school, two boys standing in front of us immediately turned around and threw chewing gum at us. But we were prepared. Over the summer, we had attended a meeting at the local white high school with the school authorities and the Reverend T.Y. Rogers, the local civil rights leader. The headteacher said, “Please keep your children at home on the first day so that we can prepare our pupils for their arrival.” We replied, “No, they’ve had plenty of time to prepare. They’ve known for a year that this was going to happen. One day isn’t going to make much difference.”
They’d known for a long time that we were coming. The news had announced that we were going to go there from the first day of school. So, that’s what we did on the first day of school.
Academically speaking, did you find it easy to keep up with your new classmates? Or did you feel there was a difference?
It was clear that separation hadn’t meant equality. Paradoxically, the schools were built in the same way and looked very good on the outside. Of course, the grounds of that school were better maintained than ours. They had a tennis court, but we didn’t. They had a huge music room, whereas ours was tiny. Their science classrooms were fully equipped with everything they needed, and their textbooks were different from ours. Their cafeteria was completely different from ours. We used to put on one-act plays and special events in a small but very nice and well-equipped auditorium. However, it was nothing like the large auditorium at the other school.
This difference in resources and facilities was also reflected in the standard of the pupils.
Yes.
The school management had told Black parents not to send their children to school on the first day, but you went anyway. Were you able to get into the classroom? As far as I know, there were many places where the resistance was so fierce that the National Guard had to intervene.
That was the case initially. However, by then, the situation wasn’t quite so serious. The police and traffic patrol were stationed opposite, and a few parents and others were waiting to see what would happen. Civil rights activists had also taken up more discreet positions so as not to provoke a reaction, but to be able to intervene if necessary. Extensive security measures were in place, as Reverend Rogers had requested.
Do you remember being afraid?
I was, on the night before the first day of school. It was the first time in my life that I hadn’t been able to sleep, as the phone had rung all night with threats telling me not to go to school. They said some very horrible things to us. All night long, cars with powerful headlights like the ones the police use for searches were driving around the streets.
The first time this happened, I remember lying on the floor, really scared. I crawled into my mom’s room and it was a really tough experience. I slept very little, but in the morning, I got ready as if nothing had happened. As I’ve told you, we’d been taught about inner strength ever since we were little. Now was the time to show it. So, I got up, got dressed, and Mom drove us to school.
You said that some of the children made rude gestures towards you. But what about the teachers?
I remember one teacher who was so young that I thought he would be nice and kind. But he was the meanest of all. Overall, I felt very isolated. I was the only Black pupil in my class.
Nobody spoke to me. When I say I was isolated, that’s exactly what it was like. It was as if I didn’t exist. In my second year, I managed to cope better with the situation. But it was still difficult because I’d come from a school where everyone was Black and I had friends. Something else happened that I didn’t understand: I was ostracised by the Black pupils, too.
Why?
Some of us felt that by attending schools for white pupils, we were helping to improve civil rights for everyone. But others believed it was better to mind our own business, or simply didn’t trust that these efforts would bring about the desired changes.
So, you were caught between the two groups. White people wouldn’t accept you, and Black people no longer recognised you as one of their own.
It was very hard.
In the eyes of some white people, you were an unwelcome intruder, and in the eyes of some Black people, you were a traitor.
That’s right. It was very tough. At my previous school, for Black pupils, I used to go to basketball matches with my friends, but here…
You weren’t accepted anywhere.
I didn’t go to any matches or events, especially not those held in the evening. The only exception was the Year 12 graduation banquet, which was held in a building in the woods, a place where, as far as I understood, members of the Ku Klux Klan also met. My mom didn’t want me to go and was against it, just like other parents, but I really wanted to go. I couldn’t wait to finish high school, and I kept telling myself: “This will be graduation day, and I want to celebrate it.”
Did you go?
Yes, my mom drove me there and said, “Perhaps I should stay here and wait for you.” I told her no, because other Black students were coming too. There were only four of us Black students graduating.
Out of a crowd of several hundred, probably!
Yes.
Did you feel like the three young men in Babylon?
Exactly. It was a really interesting evening. We listened to music, laughed, chatted amongst ourselves, and waved to friendly-looking people. We all enjoyed it, and I was really glad I went.
Then your mom…
She came back. She was quite worried about my safety there. I wasn’t worried, or at least not enough to stop me from going.
During your two years at that high school, did you receive any messages of support or encouragement, such as a hug or a kind word, that made you feel welcome?
Only from one teacher, a very kind woman who ran the school’s drama class. She actually stood up for me when some pupils said they wouldn’t participate unless I was removed from the class. She said that if I were excluded, she wouldn’t take the drama class to any competitions. This was significant compared to the other teachers who completely ignored me.
How did the classmates react when the teacher supported and encouraged you?
They just sat there and watched.
They didn’t shout or boo.
They wouldn’t have done anything like that in class. I went to school in the “Stone Age”, when pupils had respect for their teachers. I’ve told my children about this experience to help them understand that they have a role to play in the development of the African-American movement in the US. They need to realise that they are involved in education and employment opportunities and that expectations will rise. Even the way they bring up their own children will impact Black Americans. Every person has a responsibility in this regard.
It’s so sad to think that these things were happening just 50 years ago!
I know. It took decades to reach the point we’re at now, and only God knows how many more will pass before we get to where we need to be.
I have very vivid memories of the tragedy in 1963 when the church I used to attend at weekends in Birmingham was blown up, killing four young girls. Who plants bombs in a church full of worshippers? The bombs had been placed right where the children were having Sunday school. The deaths of those four girls signalled that humanity had gone down a very wrong path; it was deeply saddening.
I remember being at Sunday school at my church when the teacher suddenly came to the front and told us, “All groups, come quickly, it’s an emergency! The pastor is calling us to the altar straight away, so I want you to gather your things quietly and go there.” We were all wondering: “What on earth has happened?!” Nobody had a clue.
But, you could sense that something was wrong.
Yes, because it was very unusual. The instructor was calm but firm: “Go into the chapel and stand next to your parents.” Then, our pastor stood up and announced that the Baptist Church on 16th Street had been attacked. Apparently, the attack had also been intended as a message for Martin Luther King, who sometimes preached there. The park, where people gathered for marches, was right opposite.
The pastor told us, “We’ll say a prayer, and then you can go home. I don’t want you to stop for any reason on the way home. I want you to go straight there, shut your windows and doors, and stay inside, because we don’t know what will happen next.” When we got home, Mom said, “We’re not waiting until morning to set off for Tuscaloosa”, where she worked all week and where we went to school. She said, “We’ll pack our things right now, get in the car, and leave while it’s still light.”
So that’s what we did. As we left Birmingham, I saw members of the Ku Klux Klan for the first time, in their uniforms and carrying crosses. It was absolutely terrifying. I was 13 years old.
They were lined up on the grassy central reservation of the motorway and cars were driving extremely slowly because people were staring at them. They were all dressed in white and had lit their crosses. It was a clear signal of their intentions. They stared at us through holes where their eyes should have been, and it was terrifying. Mom told us, “Don’t look at them. Keep your heads up and look straight ahead through the windscreen. Don’t look left or right; just look straight ahead.”
Ultimately, though, those attacks weren’t followed by clashes or bloodshed, which was incredible because it would have been very easy for Black people to seek revenge, which would have led to a bloodbath.
Thankfully, the situation calmed down thanks to the non-violence movement, which was preached at church every week and reinforced at home. However, there were also people who strongly disagreed with our non-violent stance. In the heat of the moment, some of us wanted to fight back, but we didn’t.
As we entered Tuscaloosa that evening, a group of white youths standing on a hill threw eggs, stones, and other things at our car. This was demoralising and frightening.
I can only imagine, especially in that situation… Thank you for sharing these defining moments from your life’s history with us. We knew a little about them, but you’ve told us about the context, the emotions, and much more besides. Those were tragic yet heroic times. Now, it is our turn to ask ourselves, “Who do I discriminate against? Who do I treat unfairly on the basis of skin colour, social or economic status, or simply because I don’t like the way someone looks?’
It is a good time for self-reflection and for asking God to examine us, because we cannot do so properly on our own.
