Yes, you read that correctly. At the age of 35, I took my first trip to The National Civil Rights Museum. Yes, I was born and raised in Memphis. I've been called Mr Memphis by several people, but this is one of the few places I haven't visited in my city. Why? I'm not entirely sure. I guess because I know a lot about that Civil Rights Movement from my dad protesting in his younger days or maybe because I didn't want a reminder that would potentially make me angry.
I decided to take a day off from work and visit. I owed it not only to myself, but to the legacy of Dr Martin Luther King Jr and all those who sacrificed so that I could write this blog today. I packed my camera just in case. I quickly found out, I need either a smaller walk around camera or a more compact lens
I enjoyed the experience but I will have to go back to fully take in the museum. I went during MLK50, the commemoration of 50 years passing since the assassination of Dr Martin Luther King Jr. The museum was very crowded and I felt a bit rushed.
I didn't leave the museum upset or angry. I actually left with more questions than answers. I wondered how people could treat others so badly based purely on skin color. How a person could live with themselves while treating others so terribly. To think, these were also "good, church going" people.
Life is for Living,