Civil Right Diary

It was September 30, 1962. I was casually strolling through the memorial union on my way to my next class. I recall hearing apparent rumors that a black man was attempting to enroll at the university. I had heard that he got turned down to be a student after they had found out that he was black. At first I did not want to believe it. Although, I was late for class, I wanted to see it for myself. I had made it to where all the noise was at. To my dismay, my eyes did not lie. It felt unreal. At first it was U.S Marshalls. There were hundreds of them, fighting with what seemed like thousands of angry whites. They had guns and other weapons. I could hear other students screaming his name, along with racial slurs and expletives that gave me a hair-raising experience. Even a lot of my friends were out there. They were spitting and trying to grab on to anything that they could use. I think they were looking for weapons. I looked at the doors of my school, and it was barricaded so this black man could not get in.

I knew tonight was going to be bad, but I didn't realize exactly what was going to happen. Smoke was all around the campus. It felt battle ground more than anything. When I looked around I saw cars burning out of control, even with it being hard to see with all the smoke and gases. Minutes prior I was walking about the campus and felt like I was inexplicably transported to the frontlines of Normandy. Troops were everywhere! A barrage of soldiers bordered themselves around this African-American by the name of, James Meredith. There were thousands of soldiers. Why are there so many, just to protect this black man from trying to be part of us white? This did not make any sense to me. At first I had mixed feelings about the whole situation. I began to question whether or not this man had the right be here. After all, during the time, it was an all-white school. Segregation was the norm at this time, especially at an all-white school. This was an unprecedented day, right smack dab in the middle of the civil rights movement. Times were changing. Although, with me being white, I was never raised to hate. Though growing up I had mixed emotions about blacks. At one point, during my adolescence, I began to believe that whites and blacks had no relevancy in coexisting together. We are not equal.

I start to imagine what the job market would be like if more and more black students succeeded in attaining a higher education. Is this a sign of things to come? Would I