Bringing the pieces together
Oakland Tribune March 1, 2009
Cecily Burt
It's been more than 51 years since 16-year-old Minnijean Brown Trickey and eight other students endured pure hatred, racist taunts and physical confrontations, all because they wanted to go to school. The so-called Little Rock Nine were the first African-Americans to integrate the all-white Central High School in Little Rock, Ark., during a wave of school desegregation throughout the South in 1957.
Brown Trickey, now 67, spoke about her experiences and lifelong civil rights activism at a fundraising brunch Saturday at Hs Lordships Restaurant in Berkeley for the Mosaic Project, a program that brings together fourth- and fifth-graders of all races and social backgrounds in a one-week camp setting. The goal is to help the youngsters learn to respect each other and see beyond physical differences to recognize how alike they all are.
Although the overt, forced segregation that kept black students from attending white schools ended long ago, Brown Trickey said segregation continues to flourish because of socioeconomic divisions and meager funding for education.
Programs such as Mosaic, she said, are an inspiration and more important now than ever to foster peace and social change from the ground up. "I'm happy to be here to see the energy, to see the possibilities, to be inspired," she said. "When you get to be 67, you need young people to inspire you."
Janette Calderon, 16, and David Shor, 17, both Berkeley High students, are examples of how the lessons they learned as 9- or 10-year-olds took root and are being passed forward. They were among the early groups of youngsters to attend Mosaic's weeklong camp in Napa years ago, and now are part of Mosaic's youth leadership program.
They recalled their first trip to camp as fifth-graders at Park Day School, a private school in Oakland where the majority of students are white. Even Calderon, who is Latina, identified with her friends at Park Day.
They were assigned to cabins with children from different schools. Although unsettling at first, both said the experience changed their lives. Now they serve as teen cabin leaders and mentors, helping youngsters step out of their comfort zones, talk about their fears and feelings, and recognize the value in each other and themselves.
"It was the first time we got to meet kids who seemed different from us but were exactly the same. We liked the same things," Calderon recalled of her first camp experience. "Before it seemed like these kids were a far world from us."
Shor said he was assigned to a cabin with three white boys from Park Day and four African-American boys from Emerson Elementary. "I don't remember any bad times, but I definitely remember the last day. We all stood around, it was emotional and very sad (to be leaving). Our cabin leader was beatboxing and we were all dancing around."
Mosaic currently runs 12 to 13 camp sessions in the spring and fall for public and private school students in Oakland, Berkeley, San Francisco and Marin, said Mosaic board member Ann Fischer Hecht.
Some of the more recent campers, newly confident, took the stage Saturday to share what they took home from their Mosaic experience last fall. "A week after Mosaic, I found myself standing up for someone who was being humiliated," announced Wyeth Coulter.
"I used to tease other people "... but now I listen to what they say," said Tarik McKneely. "I also used to judge somebody (by) what they looked like. Now I try to look beyond what they look like."
And finally, Georgia Mavromihalis and Samantha Judkins, one white, one black, stood side-by-side and told how they brought a lasting friendship home with them and — just like good friends — they finished each other's sentences.
"We became friends at Mosaic," explained Georgia. "Yes we did," chimed in Samantha. "I never had a white friend but now I have a friend and her name is Georgia."
Brown Trickey recalled that there were 20 "nice" white kids at Central High, 100 "bad" white kids who made their experiences hellish, and another 1,009 who stood silently by and said nothing.
"It takes courage to (stand up and say something). We got letters from all over the world, they kept us going," she told the crowd. "Sometimes when you smile, you can save a life."