By Edrea Davis – Today, Americans gathered in Selma, Alabama, to commemorate Bloody Sunday—the day in 1965 when John Lewis and hundreds of other brave souls were beaten and bloodied on the Edmund Pettus Bridge. They marched for the right to vote, for dignity, for justice, knowing full well the danger ahead, yet they kept moving forward, meeting batons and tear gas with nothing but unshakable courage.
John Lewis was just 25 years old when he led that march. He carried the scars from that day for the rest of his life. But he never wavered. He spent his entire existence fighting for justice, even as the forces of oppression continued their work, adapting and finding new ways to silence, suppress, and control. His life was proof that the fight is never over, that every generation must be willing to sacrifice, to stand tall, to push forward.
I have proudly watched Black people reap the benefits of warriors who fought for justice and equality. These were not just names in history books. These were people from all walks of life who risked everything. Some lost their careers, some lost their freedom, some lost their lives. And because of their sacrifice, we moved forward.
Muhammad Ali gave up his heavyweight title and the prime of his career because he refused to fight in Vietnam. He was banned from boxing for years and nearly sent to prison because he stood firm in his beliefs. He famously said:
“Why should they ask me to put on a uniform and go 10,000 miles from home and drop bombs and bullets on Brown people in Vietnam while so-called Negro people in Louisville are treated like dogs and denied simple human rights?… No Viet Cong ever called me ni##er.”
He could have stayed silent, kept his title, and enjoyed the life most could only dream of, but instead, he chose justice over comfort.
Harry Belafonte was blackballed from Hollywood because he used his fame to promote and fund the Civil Rights Movement, pay for activists’ bail, and work alongside Dr. King. While other entertainers played it safe, he was using his voice and his money to push for Black liberation.
Nina Simone’s career in America was destroyed because she refused to stay silent about racism. She wrote Mississippi Goddam after the murder of Medgar Evers and the bombing of the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham. She called out the hypocrisy of a country that wanted to enjoy Black music but didn’t want to give Black people justice. The industry turned against her, and she was forced into exile.
Eartha Kitt, one of the most famous Black women in the world at the time, was invited to the White House and dared to tell the truth about the Vietnam War and how it was hurting Black communities. Lady Bird Johnson was so offended that Eartha was blacklisted in America. The government destroyed her career, and she had to leave the country just to work.
These were just some of the people who sacrificed. They lost wealth, fame, and security because they dared to fight for something greater than themselves.
And yet, as we commemorate Bloody Sunday, I cannot help but wonder—where are the modern-day freedom fighters? Who is truly sacrificing for the next generation?
Yes, LeBron James does good work, but thanks to the movement before him and the fact that he does not go too far, he has not had to sacrifice. The lone name that comes to mind is Colin Kaepernick, who took a knee and lost his career for it. He was willing to put it all on the line to protest police brutality. And what did the people do? He needed a groundswell of support to go up against the NFL and attacks from a U.S. president. Many stood with him, but not enough. Many more remained silent, watching from the sidelines, too afraid or too comfortable to join the fight.
Where are our Black millionaires and billionaires? The ones who made their money off the culture, off the backs of Black people’s struggle? Jay-Z has powerful lyrics, but when the time comes to act, he lets others take the lead. His song, The Story of O.J. comes to mind. Do they believe their wealth can exempt their family from racism? Do they think that money will make them honorary Whites? Do they think their success will erase the system that was built to keep them in their place? Have they forgotten the history that made them wealthy?
Ice Cube, who gained fame and wealth as a voice of the streets, found himself in political bed with Donald Trump, who has made racist remarks, has racist policies and pals around with racists. Snoop Dogg, another cherished street soldier who spoke up for the downtrodden and once stood against Trump, later stood at his event. Then there’s beloved Kendrick Lamar, one of the most talented voices of his generation. Lamar has given us powerful songs about racism and injustice—yet he didn’t reach superstardom until he turned his pen against another Black man.
Have we forgotten the lessons of the past? The griots of the community, the voices that once spoke truth to power, are growing silent as they count their money. They build their empires off the people, but what of their people? What of the next generation? Who will be willing to take risks for freedom when wealth has made them comfortable?
Black Americans are at a serious fork in the road. Strong leaders unafraid to speak up are more important than ever as our rights are being stripped away before our eyes. The Voting Rights Act has been gutted, and efforts to suppress the Black vote are growing stronger. The attacks on public education, which Black people have long benefited from, are intensifying. Student aid, Medicare, our precious right to protest—these are all under threat. Books are being banned while lies are being told about our history. This is the fight of our time, and now, more than ever, we need people willing to speak out, to stand tall, to be counted.
Belief is not enough. Words are not enough. We need action. We need sacrifice. And I wonder—who among us is willing to pay the price? Because if no one is, then all that we have fought for, all that we have bled for, will one day be undone.
As we commemorate another Bloody Sunday, I urge everyone to take a stand against injustice and live by the words of my mentor, the late civil rights leader Rev. Dr. Joseph E. Lowery:
“We ain’t going back. We’ve come too far, marched too long, prayed too hard, wept too bitterly, bled too profusely, and died too young to let anybody turn back the clock on our journey to justice.”
