Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. · My Thoughts

January Reminds Me: Martin Luther King, Jr. Day

Martin Luther King, Jr. quote - January

January reminds me: I shared my Martin Luther King, Jr. unit with my middle school students each year in my language arts and literature classes, celebrating the life and teaching of this dreamer. Here’s what I did to share his life and how he influenced my students and my life!

Martin Luther King, Jr. Quote - January

Each January, I started the new year studying the life of Martin Luther King, Jr. in my middle school literature and language arts classes.

The unit included important dates in King’s life and the Civil Rights movement. I found a great play that walked my students through key parts of his life. When they read it, they took the part of Reverend Ralph Abernathy and John Lewis. By doing this, they met many of the King’s colleagues through this play. They learned how instrumental the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC) was in the Civil Rights Movement and Dr. King’s connection to it.

A highlight of the unit for me: when we read his “I Have a Dream” speech and took it a part and talked about its meaning. Then I shared a precious teacher-resource a colleague gave me my first year of teaching in Denver, Colorado at Martin Luther King Jr. middle school. He had been in Washington, DC and recorded Dr. King’s “I Have a Dream” speech on August 28, 1963. He gave me a copy of this treasure! Yes, a cassette tape! Probably today, you could find a better-quality recording on the internet, but I taught these classes from 1984-1991 in Raton, New Mexico and from 1991-2000 in Albuquerque, New Mexico and the resources weren’t available so readily on the internet, and the background sound was unbelievable of the singing and the people.

They learned important dates:

January 15, 1929 – Martin Luther King, Jr. Born

  • December 5, 1955 – Supported Rosa Parks with a bus boycott in Montgomery, Alabama
  • August 28, 1963 – “I Have a Dream” speech in Washington, DC
  • December 10, 1964 – Nobel Peace Prize Laureate
  • April 4, 1968 – Assassinated
  • November 2, 1983 – President Ronald Reagan signed the law establishing a holiday in his honor.

https://www.en-vols.com/en/inspirations-en/culture-en/martin-luther-king-key-events/

As I taught the unit, I watched the impact studying Dr. King had on my students. Especially, my eight-graders marveled at the thought of participating in the sit-ins at diners where black people were not allowed to eat. Because of the changes in our world due to the Civil Rights Movements, they had never seen anything like that.

https://www.history.com/topics/black-history/the-greensboro-sit-in. January
https://www.history.com/topics/black-history/the-greensboro-sit-in

I shared with them that I remembered going to Amarillo, Texas in the 50s as a child and seeing signs that said “Whites Only.”

White Ladies Only - January
https://tile.loc.gov/storage-services/service/pnp/ppmsc/00100/00198v.jpg

Because of my experiences growing up, I shared personally. I was ten years old when Dr. King gave his “I Have a Dream” speech, and I remember the coverage on the news. What amazing crowds gathering in Washington, DC. Also, I remember the day he was assassinated on April 4, 1968. At twelve years old, I totally understood the significance of loss of this courageous man. That’s probably why I so passionately shared his life in my classes.

Also, I told them about what I saw in Denver, Colorado with the force desegregation that happened in the early 70s. White families fled Denver to the suburbs like Littleton so their children wouldn’t have to go to school with “blacks.” This movement was named the “White Flight.”

In January 1991 while teaching in Raton, New Mexico, my eight grade students soaked up all the information I presented about Martin Luther King, Jr. in a telling way. Then Operation Desert Storm hit January 17, 1991, and they asked what me what could we do. The idea of war scared them, and the Dr. King unit had opened up possible actions they could take.

One student touched by the Dr. King unit asked, “Can we do a sit-in?” Others agreed.

My teacher-heart overflowed—they had been listening to me. We brainstormed the possibilities and the logistics. What could we do that would be acceptable? We came up with a tentative model. Then I shared it with my other classes and they totally wanted to participate. I had ignited a firestorm in Raton, New Mexico.

“Let me talk to the principal,” I replied and the next day, it was off to the principal I went. I presented their ideas. He stared down at his hands, taking it all in.

“This can’t be a protest against Operation Desert Storm. That wouldn’t be patriotic,” Joe Gagliardi, the principal said.

We had thought of that, so I explained, “They want it to be a protest against war, not Operation Desert Storm.” I knew we were splitting hairs, but it had to be “politically correct” so we could do it.

Mr. Gagliardi asked more clarifying and probing questions. I had all the answers lined up—my students and I had done our job. Finally, he agreed and we set the date for the assembly for the whole middle school.

To prepare, we created posters of each national guard soldier who had been called out from Raton. Our own janitor was one of them.

The class who came up with the idea planned the whole thing: the format, the music, who would speak. It was amazing to see the depth they wanted to go.

After advertising it to the school, the day finally came. As students entered the gym, we asked them to sit in the stands. We had patriotic music playing. The posters honoring the National Guard men hung around the gym, and I MCed the event. Several of my students stood up in front of their peers and shared their concerns. Then we opened it up to anyone who might want to say something. The janitor/National Guard volunteer spoke and had us all in tears.

Then the moment came. I asked anyone who wanted to join us on the floor of the gym in protest to war, to get up and join us on the floor. I had no idea if any of the other students besides my classes would come down. To my surprise the whole school joined us.

We ended the event with Bette Midler’s song, “Wind Beneath My Wings.”

Martin Luther King, Jr’s legacy lived on for me on that day. I saw my students see the impact on others when you stand up for what you believe in. I hope that memory lives on in all those students who joined us for that “Sit-In against War” that day.

when I think of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. I think of the beginning of the Civil Rights Movement, his dynamic “I Have a Dream” speech and a strong Christian belief that stabilized him throughout his tumultuous career. And also, I remember eight-graders who digested his actions and beliefs and took a stance.

Take time tomorrow, January 15, to stop and think about Dr. King’s amazing accomplishments.


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My Thoughts · New Mexico

A Pilgrimage to Chimayó —A New Mexico Tradition!

El Santuario de Chimayó
El Santuario de Chimayó

Many New Mexicans take part in a pilgrimage to El Santuario de Chimayó on Good Friday. Mostly are Catholic and here’s my experience with this amazing tradition.

In the late 80s, I moved to Raton, New Mexico, to teach. I had grown up on the northeast border of New Mexico, but had toured little of the state. When I moved to Raton, I spent many weekends doing day trips to different parts of the northern part of the state. I fell in love with Taos and visited whenever I could.

As I talked to many locals, I learned about the Good Friday pilgrimage to Chimayó. Yes, people as far away as Raton knew about the pilgrimage, and some took part. I’m Episcopalian and share some traditions and rituals with the Catholic church, so it appealed to me. That Lenten season, I sought a unique experience during Holy Week and went to El Santuario de Chimayó, which was the goal of the Good Friday pilgrims.

So, I had the day off from school. I loaded up my ten-pound poodle, Windy, in the car, some snacks and water, and off we went. It was a 200-mile trip, taking us about three hours. I left early in the morning so I would have ample time to look around—before that trip I had only been to Chimayó once with a girlfriend, and we stopped at Ortega’s Weaving Shop, but we didn’t stop at El Santuario de Chimayó. At that time, I did not know the significance it had in New Mexico Christian heritage.

Inside the gate at El Santuario de Chimayó
Inside the gate at El Santuario de Chimayó

“El Santuario de Chimayó is a Roman Catholic church in Chimayó, New Mexico, United States. (Santuario is Spanish for “sanctuary”.) This shrine, a National Historic Landmark, is famous for the story of its founding and as a contemporary pilgrimage site. It receives almost 300,000 visitors per year and has been called “no doubt the most important Catholic pilgrimage center in the United States.”

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/El_Santuario_de_Chimayo

I remember enjoying the early spring morning ride up I-25 to Santa Fe, knowing this part of the road from trips to Albuquerque to visit my aunt and uncle when they lived there. Then I turned off I-25, and the world changed.

As soon as I drove through Santa Fe, the pilgrims appeared—some with large wooden crosses on their shoulders, many in a small cluster. Then I turned onto Road 503, which is the “High Road to Taos.” I had only been on that road once before, with my girlfriend on our previous trip to travel the High Road and go through Truchas, New Mexico, where The Milagro Beanfield Wars was filmed. Before the release of the film in 1988, I had read the book by John Nichols, howling at some of its hilarious situations and crying at its message about land and water rights. We had a great time on that trip.

The further I went with sage and pinon pines covering the mountainside, the number of pilgrims increased. As I motored by in my car, I glanced at serious faces on a mission. At one point, I felt a little ashamed of being in a car, but then I stopped and applauded myself for the effort.

When I arrived at the small village of Chimayó, I immediately knew the direction of the church. The masses walked towards it. I parked off on the side of the road, rolling down the windows for Windy and providing him with water.

I joined the crowd as it moved towards El Santuario de Chimayó. As we neared the gate in the adobe wall, a line formed and waited. Many people had told me about this part of the attraction to this place: holy dirt that heals.

The Gate into Sanctuario de Chimayó - pilgrimage
The Gate into Sanctuario de Chimayó

So, I waited in line, marveling at the size of the crowd and the age of the attendees—many faithful people ready to receive something special this holy day at this sacred place. Upon entering the church, it had wooden ceiling beams, white-washed walls, with a few pews. The altar area captured my eye—a wooden depiction of Jesus and the crucifixion.

How respectful the people in line were—a reverent silence canopied the church as we made our way to a door on the side of the sanctuary where the holy dirt was. When I entered the small room tucked away, crutches lined the walls from healings. I saw the hole in the ground where the dirt came from. Then I grabbed my bag of holy dirt and left. As I walked out, pictures lined the walls of people who had been healed. I have kept some dirt from Chimayó in my home in a variety of spots ever since.

When I got outside, I returned to my car, put Windy on a leash and we wandered around the area. I soaked up the peaceful, reverent atmosphere and found a shady spot under a tree to relax. Windy curled up next to me and we noticed blissfully the pleasure of being with worshipping people. I hadn’t gotten into the habit of carrying a journal with me yet, so that day never got memorialized in a poem, but what I took away from it has lasted for over thirty years in my heart. Today, I still feel the serenity in that church’s courtyard.

In the following years, I returned once during Holy Week on Good Friday in the early 90s when I moved to Albuquerque and on other occasions to share this New Mexican treasure.

In the summer of 2009, I returned to Chimayó after a divorce. After moving into my townhouse, I remembered the holy dirt and realized I had misplaced it. I knew I needed some to heal my broken heart. This time I went alone because Windy had passed away. Again, a line formed but shorter and wove its way through the church. I gathered a bagful of dirt and brought it home, placing it around my townhouse, believing in its power to heal. This time I spent time with a notebook in the courtyard recording my experience.

Lin leaning against the gate into Santuario de Chimayó - pilgrimage
Lin leaning against the gate into Santuario de Chimayó

In 2015, Lin and I vacationed in the Santa Fe area in the spring, and I showed him around Chimayó and El Sanctuario. We had a delightful time and the grounds surrounding it had changed a lot during my absence. We brought home a fresh bag of dirt to replace the old. All the pictures included here are from this trip.

As I face Holy Week this week, I remember my pilgrimage to El Santuario de Chimayó from Raton—every year I am reminded of my experience, still savoring the time there. It still blesses my heart in a special way!

If you are interested, here’s this year’s Holy Week schedule there: https://www.holychimayo.us/holy-week. Have you visited Chimayó? If so, what was your experience? Have you ever done a pilgrimage or something special during Holy Week? I’d love to hear about it!


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