The America That’s Still Possible

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[music] So it's a 250th birthday of America. And Donald Trump is president.

“And I think the celebration he got from the Trump administration is going to be of a very specific kind.”

Get ready, America, because we're putting our love of country on full display. A celebration of American glory. Marking greatness. [music] Uncritical, I think, will be underselling it.

There has been, I think, a split a severing of two visions of American history. There is a vision that can only see glory and a vision that I think can only see suffering and sin. One of my beliefs about politics is that until we can reintegrate a story until we have leader again able to tell a more holistic story of the country. It's able to hold its triumphs and its tragedies together. It's going to be very, very hard to move forward.

I'm in Montgomery, Alabama.

“I think of Montgomery in some ways as the birthplace of American democracy.”

Not where it was conceived, right? That's the founding. But where the actual thing promised at the founding began to really be born. The people of Montgomery walked to maintain their human dignity and their rights. This is where Montgomery bus boycott began. Let's all walk together for freedom for liberty and equality.

Which led to this civil rights movement. I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up. Live out the true meaning of its dream.

Which led to the triumphs and the laws that the first time made America some version of the democracy and the country that it initially promised to be.

We hold these truths to be self-evident. That all men are created. There's a series of really remarkable museums and sites here. The legacy museum, the freedom monument, sculpture park that have been created by the equal justice initiative. As ways of apprehending that history, holding horror and beauty, tragedy and triumph in humanity and humanity together.

“I think sometimes of wisdom as the ability to hold the totality of life, the wise you are the more of life you can hold.”

And I think this holds quite a bit in it. Bryan Stevenson is the founder of the Equal Justice Initiative. He has done amazing work over the years continues to do amazing work, defending people on death row. He is the author of the book Just Mercy, which was turned into a movie where he was played by Michael B. Jordan. How many of us can say that?

But over time you again to expand that work into questions of remembrance, questions of our history and how we think about it and whose humanity we are able to see inside of it. Talking to Stevenson, I was interested in how do you create a history of this country that loves it in its totality? How do you work with America's past and its present in a way that doesn't trap you in pain? But doesn't force you to inhabit only and imagine glory? How do you have a story that pushes a country forward that enhances rather than reduces the bonds of brotherhood and solidarity between people within it?

As always my email as recline show at nwedhimes.com.

Bryan Stevenson, welcome to the show. Thank you. So we're speaking here not long before the 250th anniversary of America. What's your relationship to that day? You know, I think anniversaries are always a time for reflection to think about who we are, where we've been.

You know, I think about this moment in terms of what will be people be talking about on our 300th anniversary.

The cage match? I hope that we will be past spectacle violence as a way to commemorate our nation. I don't think that violence, which is a part of every nation's history, but it's not the best part. It's not the glorious part. It's not the battleswan.

“It's the ideas that motivated people to stand up for things that they believe in that I think are most important.”

So I see this as a moment for reflection, to acknowledge things that are extraordinary and wonderful, but to also acknowledge things that are difficult and painful that continue to harm and haunt us. We're sitting here in a museum. We are sitting in a place built to commemorate, to take seriously, to stare unflinchingly at some of the most brutal violence. Violent, horrible moments in American history.

And not just the moments, but the people that this violence was inflicted upon. And we're going to talk about different pieces of the museum that move me and what they mean. But one question I have is, is for you spending so much time in those areas, thinking so much about how to represent them,

“thinking so much about how to make people feel something. They may not want to feel.”

What that is done to your relationship with maybe America itself or the idea of America, the story of America. I moved to Montgomery in the 1980s. We had 59 markers and monuments to the Confederacy. The three largest high schools here were Robert E. Lehigh, Jefferson Davis, high, sitting in the near high, where the population had to walk around in a space that shouted the history of the Confederacy in would not even whisper the history of slavery.

You could not find the word slave slavery or enslavement anywhere in the city landscape. And I think that does something unhealthy for everybody. And so I just saw it as a way of creating a space for us to understand our history more honestly, more completely.

“I think it is a narrative journey that you have to undertake, and there will be pain along the way.”

But it's a very familiar way of helping the world reckon with human rights violations. I mean, we have nearly 200 Holocaust museums across the world. We have over 40 in the United States. I think we need all of them. When you go to the Holocaust Museum, at least when I do, I get to the end of it.

And I am motivated to say never again, not Jewish, not connected to that history,

but I am motivated by the suffering and the brutality that I have learned about to say never again. And for me, this country has never created a relationship to our history of racial violence, of enslavement, of lynching, of abuse of other people who are disfavored. We've never created a relationship to that history that has motivated us to say never again. And because we've never made that commitment of never again, we keep being romance by new manifestations

that pull us into the very patterns and behaviors that allow that kind of violence to be replicated. There's also conflict in bringing up this history. Donald Trump is president, and there has been an ongoing fury from him, from his White House and people around him going back to his first term, about around their sense that the people like you, trying to create a relationship to our racial history,

trying to create a reckoning with it, are trying to take the story of American poison it. By viewing every issue through the lens of race, they want to impose a new segregation, and we must not allow that to happen.

Critical race theory, the 1619 project, and the crusade against American history is toxic propaganda,

ideological poison that if not removed will dissolve, the civic bonds that tie us together will destroy our country. In answer to the New York Times 1619 project, they create the 1776 project, one of both the sources of their political strength, and the engines of their political argument, is that there is an organized faction trying to corrupt the story of America, trying to force us into a space of endless repentance, and acidify the bonds of solidarity between us,

is in the ability to be proud of America.

Again, what do you think of it? I think there are so many areas of our lives, particularly in this country, that are inspiring and energizing and create joy and create meaning and purpose. There are lots of opportunities to feel proud and excited about what we have done. I mean, we cheer for our Olympic team, we cheer for achievement, we cheer for success, the technology that has changed the world, is something that we all embrace and celebrate communication.

“But that doesn't mean that's the only thing you should think about, it's the only thing you should talk about.”

And I just think public health, human health is a really great way to think about this. It's like saying we don't want physicians to tell people that they have high blood pressure or diabetes, because that's depressing, that's demoralizing, that's going to make people feel bad when they walk out. And we could ban physicians from ever giving that diagnosis. But the people who have high blood pressure, the people who have diabetes, are going to get sick.

They're not going to be healthy, and eventually it will kill them in ways that they don't have to die. In our military leaders, if you talk to military leaders and military colleges, all of these academies, what they study are the mistakes we have made during our past. It's the misjudgments during war. It's the miscalculations that created outcomes that we didn't want.

That's what you study so that you don't replicate those mistakes in the future. You do the same thing in science, you do the same thing in business. That's how we have succeeded. That's how we have achieved in this country. I don't share the view that we are doomed. I don't share the view that we are corrupted without any opportunity for repair.

I genuinely believe that there is something that feels more like freedom, more like equality, more like liberty, and more like just as waiting for us in the United States.

“I think it's just waiting, but we will not get there if we don't find the courage to unburden ourselves”

from the parts of our history that hold us back. I genuinely believe that. I see lots of examples of it all the time. We're here in Alabama. In Alabama, college football is like religion.

It really is. If you moved here, people would start asking you almost immediately. Auburn or Alabama. There was this intensity around college football that I didn't quite understand. Well, they don't have a professional sports team.

That's what it is. No, it's more than that. There's an identity that has evolved in this state that is connected to the success of these athletic programs. And the question becomes why.

And when you think about it, here in Alabama, it's one of the things that we can be legitimately proud of. That we have won national championships against everybody, the Californians, the New Yorkers, the Midwest. We beat them on these playing fields and it generates pride.

And I just want to step back a few decades. And remind people that George Wallace stood in front of the University of Alabama, a schoolhouse store and said segregation forever.

Black people will never walk through these gates.

And most of the people in the state supported him. But then courageous, black, athlete, and courageous white parents, sent their kids to that school as integration took place. And then we got excited about the possibility of winning. And our desire to win overcame our desire to be segregated.

And we started winning. And now you see this pride, you see this joy, you see this triumph for this state. And on those game days, black people, white people, poor people, rich people are all glued to the TV. They're all at the stadium. They're all celebrating.

It's like what's happening with the nicks in New York City right now. That triumph is a state triumph. It's an everybody triumph.

“And the only thing I want to acknowledge is that you owe that to the civil rights movement.”

You owe that to the courageous people who said, "No, we reject segregation forever." And if we understand that, then we begin to imagine, "Well, what? Where else might we have achievement and progress?" And when things, if we got past that bigotry, if we got past that fear.

I always feel that you can make a real argument that Montgomery is a birthplace of American democracy.

Not where is conceived. Right? There's a conception of American democracy that happens in arguably 1776. You know, or maybe before that, depending on how you want to think about it. But America is not a democracy until at least after the civil rights in the voting rights acts.

And what turns that begins here with a bus boycott. And this place is not just a monument to segregation or Jim Crow. The civil rights movement I really do think to be the most beautiful moment in movement. In American history, of course, braided in with some of the absolute ugliest and most horrifying moments in American history. But somehow taking that in its totality, not choosing one or the other, not seeing so much of the ugliness.

That the heroism disappears that you cease to see that as America, too, or vice versa. That feels like a mature relationship to our history. Like wisdom is holding both things as part of the American synthesis. I even think it actually starts earlier than that.

“When I think about the legacy of slavery, one of the things that I've just been focused on a lot,”

since we started working on our sites is how extraordinary it was that when those four million black people were emancipated after the civil war.

They decided not to seek revenge and retribution against the people who enslaved them. They knew who sold their children, they knew who abused them, they knew who raped them, they knew who did all of these horrific things. And they could have given into the emotion that the desire to seek retribution and revenge against the enslavers, the people who did these torturous things. But instead, when you look at what happens after the civil war, you see this community of people choose America. They say, you know what, we're going to build schools, we're going to build churches, we're going to build families, we're going to commit to this country like nobody's ever committed before.

Black men registered to vote, they ran for office, they tried to create harmony and peace with those who had enslaved and tortured them. It was a remarkable commitment to a healthier, better future. It collapsed quickly.

“And that's what gives rise to a century of segregation in Jim Crow laws.”

Black people were killed by the police on buses. It wasn't just one day, it was a whole history of abuse. Black people had to get on the front of the bus, pay their fair, get off the bus, go to the back door. And sometimes the bus would just drive away before black person could get on the bus. So many black writers in Montgomery would be left humiliated on the street. And that was the reality.

But to understand what happens in 1955, I think we need to have some appreciation for what happened in 1865.

Because when they made that first commitment to build America and were brutally and violently rejected, you could also understand why people might say we're never going to do that again.

But that's exactly what happens in 1955 when people finally said we're going to challenge this. They were believing in an America that would respect them, that would respond to their challenge. The buses, every black person in this community, 50,000 people, it's remarkable. And they succeed. And that success then gives birth to the civil rights movement and inspired people black and white to commit to swim in, where they might be poisoned or threatened with acid, to commit to read in, where they might get beaten and pulled out of libraries, to commit to freedom rights, where writers were bloody, brutalized and to commit to all of that activism and struggle.

That then yielded this incredible moment in 1965, where democracy in this country took shape in a way that had never existed before.

“And I think you're right, that decade, that's why we have it on Montgomery Square, this language, the decade that changed the world.”

One thing that the museum and the sculpture sites, the monuments here, that you have put together, one thing they do really beautifully is what you did there, which is, show this as an integrated history. There's no one moment, there's no eras disconnected from each other. And so it begins even before slavery. And this country begins at the beginning of a slave trade when you walk in the museum, you're greeted with waves. And I, I spent a lot of time with data visualizations in my day. I'm not usually very moved by them.

But you have one that is visualizing the flow of ships, of slave ships. And where they went, right, which is not initially primarily to America. That's right, the slave trade was much more global than that. But you begin to see as you take into the 1700s, the 1800s, it concentrates in America towards cotton, towards the south, towards those riches. And this I think the first thing that began to really settle into my soul from being at the museum, it may be think about the people on the ships and two ways.

And, two million die in the crossing, there's a huge number of people. So many throw themselves overboard. It's gutting. It's like a truly gutting thing to sit with.

“I also spent time thinking about the enslavers. And one thing that was really present for me throughout the work you all have done here is a power of stories.”

And what it must have taken, what stories it must have taken, to not see the humanity of the people before you, not see that when they were weeping those tears matter, not see that the families you were destroying and dissolving, loved each other and mattered exactly as much as your own. Not see that you, that they were humans and that you had become the monster, right, to do all this with a Bible in your hand. I'm curious, having sat in so much of this, how you understand what those stories were.

That led people to sacrifice their humanity and to so-betray the humanity of the people there and so on. I think that's such an important question. And the transatlantic trade in that water and the Atlantic ocean, just as backdrop, you know, that exhibit really came out of my first trip to Africa.

“I mentioned this because I think it's true for all of us. It's just we're all learning evolving. So I grew up on the ocean.”

Atlantic Ocean was the beach. It was a place to go. And then I went to Africa for the first time.

It was supposed to give a speech and a booze and Nigeria. And I got there too late. And so they sent somebody to meet me at the airport in Lagos, was supposed to take care of me in this young lawyer met me at the airport. And he was very nice. And first thing you said was, I've canceled your hotel room, you're not going to stay in the hotel. You're going to stay with me and my family. My son is excited to meet you. And he's going to share it. So he was very, he was committed to giving me an authentic experience.

And I had to show you Lego. So it was like a lemma clock at night. And he took me all around the city. And we would literally go into neighborhoods and he would start shouting.

Hey, everybody come out and meet this black American lawyer and people would come out and these women were trying to sell me, shave butter and all these products.

And it was rich. I was tired, but it was rich. And he took me all around the city and finally said, man, I got to get a little rest. Can we can we just go home and get a look. I got to get up early. Please, okay, one more place. And he took me to the beach. I didn't even think about the beach in Legos. It was not pretty. It was dark. It was kind of concrete slabs of our soldiers with guns and. Fast we put nothing beautiful about it. He said, come on, come on. And we climbed over the concrete slabs down to the shore of the beach. It was dark. You could see the moon shining across the ocean.

And this guy had been so gregarious and so talkative all of a sudden got so quiet. And I was standing there and I looked over at him and he was crying. He had a tear running down his face. And then he looked at me and he said, I brought you here because I wanted to tell you, I'm sorry. This is where we lost you. And for the first time in my life, I realized I was standing on the other side of this ocean that separated me from everything that's important about me. My identity, my culture, my history was all taken from me by the Atlantic Ocean.

“If I take a DNA test, I show up in 24 different countries. And it hit me hard. First time. And it changed my relationship to the Atlantic Ocean. When I got back here, I realized that that body of water needed to be understood more honestly.”

We've spent millions of dollars looking for trinkets from the Titanic in the Atlantic. And we haven't spent hardly anything to reckon with the two million bodies that are buried in the bottom of that ocean. And so a story can help us understand things about who we are, our relationship to the things around us, that are important. I still love the beach. I still see it as a place of beauty. But I also see this need to help others understand the harm that was caused by moving millions of people off of their land, their place, their space. It's really unprecedented in human history.

And so the second part of your question gets to the how, why? And when I look at the history of enslavement and you try to understand how did that come because you're right. People who enslaved other people thought of themselves as moral and decent and Christian. And you have to ask, well, how do you think of yourself as moral and decent and Christian when you're pulling away a screaming woman from her children knowing that that mother will never see those children again because you're treating her as property. How do you do that and you beat her for crying beat her as you have so many exhibits on this.

It actually began when your parents arrived and we had to deal with indigenous peoples, which is part of the reason why I think we need to talk more about that history.

When we created our constitution, when we declared independence and advanced these ideas of equality and freedom and justice, we denied native people protection. We said, "Oh, no, those native people, they're different." And we created this narrative of racial difference that we used to justify forcing people off their lands, the famine, the war, the disease. And that narrative of racial difference, the same narrative is what was used to justify 246 years of slavery. And the false narrative was that black people are not as good as white people, that black people less human, less evolved, less capable. And that's why I believe the great evil of slavery wasn't the bondage, the forced labor, the violent, all of those things.

“I think the true evil of American slavery was the narrative we created to justify and slave it.”

And when I give talks, I often argue that the North won the Civil War, but the South won the narrative war. Those ideas of racial difference in racial hierarchy, they continued.

And then some important footnote on that, even many of the abolitionists in the North, even many of the people who did not believe in slavery also did not believe in racial equality, which is why reconstruction collapses. They retreated from that because they were being governed by this narrative of racial differences. So then when southern states start codifying racial segregation and creating Jim Crow, it didn't seem as strange as you would imagine it should be, to have laws. Boring black people in white people from sitting in the same part of a bus or playing checkers together, living next to one another, this absurd, crazy world, were black kids couldn't play with white kids and black people couldn't say this to a white person.

“That is all rooted in this narrative. And we talk about mass incarceration in the same context because I think there's a way in which we have tolerated throwing away hundreds of thousands of people because it's politically expedient.”

You know, the drug war in the 1970s, you know, we had 300,000 people in our jails and prisons until the 1970s. And by the end of the century, we had over 2 million, how did that happen when we had people from both political parties saying that people were drug-addicted, people who are drug-dependent are criminals who should be punished for their addiction and dependency.

Even the people when I'm representing my client, people are trying to kill the people I represent. It's heartbreaking to me. I'm working on a case now and adding a 10-year-old child.

And there are people in this state that refuse to put this child in the juvenile system, they're trying to keep him in the adult system, 10-year-old boy. There's no place for 10-year-old children in the adult system, what they do with the 10-year-old boy is put him in solitary confinement. And that is such a destructive, cruel, abusive thing to do. And if I could just get them close enough to this child, I don't think anybody would say that's what we should be doing. But they won't get close. But some of them are close to this child. There is a judge who sent in that child, no? There's a prosecutor. But judges don't have to get close to the people they sent. I mean, I think one of the things if I could radically change our criminal legal system, I would make judges, go to jails in prisons and see what's happening to people in jails in prisons. I would actually make them spend time in low-income communities. The zip codes where you have the highest rates of arrest and I would want them to go and actually see the lies of children.

What's happening to kids who are born into violent families where people are, are we shouting that are living near gunshots all the time to see the environment, so they could have an appreciation for who that person is.

“But that's the problem now is that we have so many people with the power, police, prosecutors and judges who are disconnected. And if the only thing you see is people at their worst, and that can mislead you as well.”

Right? And that's what happens to a lot of law enforcement. You only see people on their worst day and that makes you angry and I get it. But if you actually spend time with their mothers, their siblings, the people trying to help them. If you spend time in poor communities and you actually saw the struggle, people are engaged into overcome. Then I think you'd actually have a different mindset. But no, I think this child is a consequence of the way in which we've divided things. Almost all the kids under the age of 13 in this state who have been condemned in this way are kids of color.

And the judges are almost all white. I was in the lynching room, one of the things, and I found that of everything I sat in here to be the hardest space to sit in.

Of kids of 13 year olds, of 15 year olds, there's one in which an infant is lynched.

“And that's talked about, right? Just as a fact, like, come, you know, this is what happened, this is what we did.”

And then the other was, this other dimension of the news reports that you put up on it, the thirst for violence and the, like, they were multiple where they couldn't find the persons of the lynched of the brother. And that was, again, reported on advertised. He talked too much. Now he won't talk anymore was the way another one was described. You know, we were just talking about maybe this difference between being close to someone and being near them. There's maybe a different way of saying what I was saying. There was a judge at some point near that child.

There was a prosecutor near that child in a room with that child. And in these communities, there is maybe not closeness in the way you're describing it.

An intimacy, a seeing of another person's struggle, humanity, dignity, soul, but there's nearness.

“And in some ways, the nearness it seems that you can feel a pulsing fear behind it, right?”

It's ever evidence of revolt, of violence, of people trying to fight back in a system that is destroying them. And then the system has to come down with extraordinary force on them or anybody near them escape. Right? The punishment for escape when that would be in some ways the most honorable and human response to what is being done. The number of people who are brutalized or at times, I think, lynched, but certainly brutalized during slavery for just going at night to try to see their wife who has been moved or their mother.

There's something about this nearness, but not closeness. I think that's right. I mean, the people who were most at risk of lynching violence in the 20th century were black veterans after World War I and black veterans after World War II. They had gone to Europe and fought. They had been given a gun. They had done something that people applauded them for. France celebrated them. And now they're back in Mississippi. Now they're back in Georgia. And for the local power structure, that was a threat. And so they would try to humiliate them. Boy, take that uniform off right now. And they would say no.

And their resistance was such a threat to this social order, this racial order, that they would be particularly at risk of victimization. And so I think you can look at that in terms of proximity. And I think that is a very real framework.

“But it's also worth kind of stepping out from that. How did that happen? Well, that's where I think this narrative becomes so important.”

And part of what I'm saying is yes, it is not good for you to enslave another human being. I don't want you to do that because I care about you. I think it will corrupt your heart. You're so it will limit your capacity to love. It is not healthy to say to people, you can't love that person because of their color. It is not good for you to take your children to a lynching which many families did and let them watch a black man being brutalized and mutilated. It's not good for them. You're going to create an unhealthy relationship to life.

And that's why I do see this as an effort to liberate everybody, to uplift everybody. Not just the people who kind of disproportionately born the burden of this bigotry, but everybody. There's a picture right next to us of a bunch of white families staring at the feet of a lynched man. And that some of the children are in ties, right? They dress them up for the occasion. I was thinking as you said some of that about the word narrative.

I'm trying to open up what I felt about that. Narrative somehow seems so thin for what it was, right? There's a narrative in a book. There's a narrative in a Pixar film that this wasn't just a story people were telling. It was a way that they were and were not able to register plain facts of the world in front of them. Which isn't to say it's not an narrative or not a story, but it may be think about what has to happen for a story to penetrate so deeply

that it is more powerful than your immediate reality is to you.

I always think of big heart, vivisecting animals and it's a scream, right? And animals do scream if you cut them open while they're alive.

And one of the parts of the museum that I really spent a lot of time in were the ads to sell slaves.

And the reason I found myself just reading more and more and more of them is that there are moments when you saw something a dissonance breaking through. We talk about narrative, but there's also the power of self-interest and of interest. And as you read these, there's a wall of them in the museum.

“The slaves are the people are described as able to learn anything completely trustworthy of a great family, right?”

They read almost like college endorsement letters because they're trying to get the highest price for them. And so on the one hand, there's this narrative story of brutishness, of subhumanity, of incapacity. And then it's Peter is a master bricklayer. And you see something happening that what is known but can't be admitted.

Yeah, well, I think you're absolutely right that the reality of being with another human being, seeing another person's humanity is always going to emerge in ways that are powerful.

You know, I grew up in segregation. There were no, but for Brown versus Board of Education, I would have had a life where there was no engagement with people who were white, but because of that decision, lawyers came into our community, made them open up to public schools, and I began interacting with white kid and they began interacting with me. The end of high school, they elected me to be the president of the student body, which would have been inconceivable, not because I was particularly special, but just because we were able to get to a place of relationship.

And I say that because when you think about the harm done by segregation, we never focus on what it did to our understanding of who we are.

“I mean, I think about the lives of most Americans in the 20th century. There were very few places where people had integrated, racially integrated lives.”

And now what's happened is we're seeing that replicated again, our public schools in Montgomery are racially segregated. The public schools are 76% black white parents didn't want their kids going to school with black kids after Brown and so they left and started creating private schools and charter schools.

And that separation has continued and that's the tragedy of the narrative that keeps us apart.

I mean, when you really get to know a person, I mean, again, I see this in my legal work and a lot of what I'm trying to do in this space has been informed by that. I've had correctional officers come up to me with tears in their eyes. When one of my clients is getting close to an execution date and say, please, please save this man. He's a good person. He doesn't deserve this. They wouldn't be able to testify to that in court. If I asked him for an affidavit, they wouldn't be able to do that because they would lose their job.

But it was a genuine understanding that this is a human being whose life has meaning and purpose and value. He's not someone who's beyond hope, beyond redemption. And it wasn't even about innocent or guilt. It was about what they observed. So I do think that dissonance, which you see in those ads, is a dissonance that was intentional, that was sustained, obviously by the economic benefit of saying something positive about this person that you're trying to sell. But you can see it throughout history.

[Music] I'm Peter Baker. I'm Chief White House correspondent for The New York Times. I've covered the President of the United States and I've covered every president since 1996. The pressure on an independent press today feels greater than any time I've seen it in four decades as journalists. All that pressure, though, is just a reminder of why journalism matters.

Our job is to bring home facts, help our readers understand what's happening, regardless of what the consequences may be to us.

“And if they punish us so be it, we will still go out there and report as honestly and aggressively and fairly and truthfully as we can.”

I mean, look, if the New York Times were not at the White House asking the hard questions, looking for stories behind the stories, trying to understand what's going on, it's possible these questions don't get asked, independent reporting requires resources.

[Music]

“This brings us in way to the 250th to 1776, you can see it in the founding fathers who many of them knew and left eloquent writings to the effect of slavery as a moral horror.”

They, God will judge this country for and not only did they not abolish slavery upon the founding of the country, but they did not free their own slaves.

And that's where I think there's something interesting in this question of in some ways it almost takes us off the hook then and now to say that the problem was everyone believed a story that wasn't true. Because many people knew the story wasn't true or they believed multiple stories at one time. But it's sometimes hard costly to act upon what you know is true. I mean, you don't have to take away from the brilliance of the founders or the morality and other dimensions or what they gifted unto the world to say that actually it's a profound warning to read their writings on this.

And then recognize what they did not do.

Absolutely.

“And that's why exploring what they did not do is as important as exploring what they did, understanding what they did.”

And to not reckon with what they did not do, it's not just dishonest, it's misleading. It will allow you to believe that greatness can be achieved without completeness, without something that's consistent.

And I just think again, it ends up being unhealthy.

I think about people I know super talented, incredibly talented. And I could talk forever about how unique and skilled and talented they are as a musician as an athlete. But I also know that they are suffering, that they are struggling, that they're dealing with mental health challenges, emotional challenges, depression. And if I don't talk about that, if they don't talk about that, their talents will not define them. They'll be overwhelmed by these other things.

“And so that's why I feel like it's unhealthy to not acknowledge the tensions, the contradictions, the failures of the founding fathers and the failures of our largest society.”

Let me have you examine that because I think it's a very profound statement that, and I want to remember how you said it, the greatness is not possible without completeness. Yeah, I think many people of the fear that what you will have if you confront, if you admit, if you look straight at your failings, your country's failings is not completeness, so much as a kind of overwhelm that you will be overwhelmed by the darkness. Yeah, I tell you why you don't believe that. Well, I just, I don't, I think we have too many examples of that not happening to fear that it, that it will happen to us.

I mean, you know, a lot of what I'm doing here came out of going to South Africa and visiting the apartheid museum. And to get into that museum, you get a ticket and the ticket will arbitrarily assign you a label that says white or colored and you have to go through the door that your ticket corresponds with. So before you even go into that museum, you have to deal with the discomfort of participating with apartheid. And I went with three or four Swedish lawyers were all at some human rights conference. We all bought tickets. We all got tickets that said white. And when they realized that and they saw the doors, they immediately stopped until oh, no.

And they went back to the black woman working at the counter and said, yeah, we don't want the white ticket. We want the other ticket. And she wouldn't sell it to them. But that sense of discomfort before you even go in. And when you go to the other. I don't know what I feel like for you. Well, I walk right through the whiteboard and bother me. I mean, you know, because I understood what they were trying to do. They were trying to get you to imagine to appreciate to kind of engage with the arbitrariness of that regime.

But there were rooms in that museum where there were nooses hanging from the walls. Oh my god. And when I left, I thought we don't have any museums like this in America. Then I went to Berlin. And in Berlin, I was blown away. You can't go 200 meters in Berlin without seeing the Shnappelstein and the markers and the monuments dedicated to the victims of the Holocaust. The Holocaust memorial sits in the center of Berlin. There's like a dozen museums dealing with the horrors of the Holocaust just in Berlin.

And Germany, you're required to understand the Holocaust before you graduate from high school. You can't graduate without a detailed understanding of that history. And they don't have people saying, oh, we can't teach our kids about the Holocaust. That might make them feel uncomfortable or ashamed. It's the opposite.

“Well, now they do have some people saying that. And I think this is important because when we, I remember earlier conversations and you tell me about Berlin.”

And in the decade or so that it's past and so on, maybe a bit less, we see the rise of the AFD. And at the nuclear core of the AFD, I mean, they have an argument about immigration and many other things. But much of their appeal is about restoring German pride, allowing Germans to be proud of who they are again. There is no vaccine against bigotry and politics of fear and anger. Nothing will insulate us from tensions. And you see that in Germany, you see that in Europe. But when you think about Germany, the villain of the 20th century, and where it stands today in the 21st century,

in less than 80 years, that nation has transformed itself. And it wasn't immediate. If you talked about the Holocaust, you'd get booed, you'd get shouted at.

“But what has happened there in the last 80 years, I think is quite remarkable. And we need to understand that.”

Before we say, or we can't talk about that in the United States, because we'll get defined by that will be overwhelmed by that. The principal difference, of course, is that in South Africa there was a change in power. A black majority took over, and they were insisting on reckoning with the history of the upper part type. The Nazis lost the war. Had the Nazis won the war, we wouldn't see the Germany that we see. And in the United States there hasn't been a shift in power. The people who benefited from enslaved didn't have to forfeit all that they benefited from.

The people who actually fought against the United States were quickly restored into power.

And didn't have to give up anything as a result of that. The people who lynched others were never held accountable.

“Even in the 1960s, the moment we're in now is, it's, I think, a consequence because we never required accountability.”

We didn't even require people who disenfranchised black people for a century to say, "I'm sorry. I'm wrong. We shouldn't have done that." Most of them voted against the Voting Rights Act in 1965. These Southern Congress members, and they just began scheming for ways to maintain political disenfranchisement. It's the absence of reckoning that allows the problems that contribute to these issues to continue. It's interesting to me how much the memorials and other places informed what you have done here. And being here, I thought a lot about Holocaust museums, concentration camps, right?

That exists very much in my family's history. And I had a similar feeling here that I have there, the confronting the Holocaust. It doesn't make me afraid of Germans. It makes me afraid of human beings. The confronting that photo of people in the Sunday past looking at a man hanging from a tree. Does it make me afraid of Americans or whatever county that might have happened and the people of that county? It makes me afraid of human beings that what we are capable of is very easy for us to deny. And it's also mistaken to assume that it's only what they are capable of.

Absolutely. Absolutely. And I glad to hear you say that because that's the goal. You know, people will say, "Well, my people never enslaved anybody.

As if somehow that exonerates them from living in a community where the hotels and railroads and the business and the insurance, all of that was trafficking in the commerce of slavery. You didn't have to enslaved someone to benefit from slavery." And so that's not the right framework. If you're looking for a personal exoneration in that way, that's not going to get us where we need to go. We are succeeding if we can get people to think past the particulars of the moment, the particulars of the arrow,

which is what a lot of people do when they tell you don't talk about that. That's in the past. It doesn't matter anymore. You're trying to reduce it to a particular phenomenon. Why are you talking about slavery? That happened a long time ago. I think if you truly appreciate the harms of slavery, if you truly appreciate the harms of lynching,

if you truly get to the horrors and the harms of segregation, then you'll begin to never want to tolerate abuse of power.

You'll never want to exploit people who have less privilege. You'll begin to talk against hatred. And I think part of why I value making this a human story, recognizing the humanity of every person,

There's not much in the museum about the abolitionists or about the Civil War.

There's a lot about enslavement, but Frederick Douglass is not absent, but he's not highly present.

“Say, I think of Lincoln or sort of anything in that kind of vast movement that ended this horror.”

And part of the parts of the did so when it seemed so remote, right, when I read the biographies of Douglass or others, and there's just such a long period. I mean, now we see it on the other side of the story. But when that work was so unlikely, why?

Well, if you ask some, most people in this country, what do you know about slavery? They'll say, well, we know there was a Civil War.

Can you identify anybody who Frederick Douglass, maybe Harriet Tubman? And it doesn't help them understand anything about slavery to know that someone escaped and then did these remarkable things. That's an achievement narrative. But I think it's misleading to reduce slavery to the story of abolitionists or to reduce slavery to the success of Frederick Douglass. Because what that does is actually allows you to avoid the pain in the harm and imagine that it created this opportunity for this great man to emerge.

“What you need to know about slavery was how cruel it was, how horrific it was, how painful it was, the ways in which it distorted.”

And most people haven't thought about what it was like to be a mother and enslaved mother and to give birth to a child, maybe even as a product of rape and have to decide, do I love this child or not? Have the people I know are being sold away from their children or their children are being sold away from them. If I love this child, my heart's going to be broken. So maybe I shouldn't love this child so much because it's just too fragile. It's too likely that they'll be pulled away from me. And when you learn that most of these mothers chose to love despite the threat that they would be sold, despite the fact that this was a product of sexual violence and rape,

you begin to see something different about that enslaved woman. You begin to understand something different about these people. And if you don't understand that, then you're going to misunderstand the nature of slavery. My great grandfather was enslaved in Caroline County, Virginia. And even though he was enslaved and enslaved people could lose their life for trying to read or write it was against the law, my great grandfather learned to read or write as a teenager. Because he had a hope of freedom. It's the 1850s. He didn't know a civil war was coming, but he had a hope of freedom. And he learned to read or write.

And my grandmother told me after emancipation, something I never talked about before that my great grandfather would read the newspaper to formally enslaved people who he would invite to their house once a week. So they would know what was going on. He would stand on the porch and read the newspaper from front to back. I would not read or write with hear him read and my grandmother said she loved the fact that her dad knew how to read. And she said, when my dad started reading, I would push my siblings aside and she said, I would get near him and I would just wrap my arms around his leg.

I said, mama, why do you do that? She said, well, I would wrap my arms around his leg because I wanted to learn to read too. And she said, I thought you learned to read by touching somebody while they read. And he taught my grandmother to read or write. And she would insist that we would read. Sometimes go to visit her. She'd make these desserts that smell so good. I'd go running. She'd come on Brian, get this pie and I'd go running. And she'd be in front of the kitchen with a stack of books. She'd make you read for the dessert.

But what I realized is that there was power in the hopes of those who'd come before me. I felt lifted up by generations of people who had struggled.

“And that's what we're trying to do with this history.”

We want to be very directed about the harms and the horrors of slavery. But we also want people to understand the resilience, the power, the strength, the courage, the character of people to love in the midst of agony. It then gives you something to celebrate in a new way when you get to the national monument.

And we decided to take the names of the four million who were emancipated, who for the first time in American history could have a surname.

That happened in 1870. It was the first time in slave people in this country got to have a surname. But to now have those 122,000 names on that monument that's 43 feet tall and 150 feet wide. And to see the descendants of enslaved people in this country finally have a place to go where they can connect to their enslaved ancestors with pride for their capacity to survive.

I just think, um, is really important. We're trying to help people understand there's power in knowing who we are and what we've done, there's power in appreciating our capacity to overcome.

“Not just slavery and lynching and segregation, but anything that diminishes us, that pushes us away from these broad and beautiful ideas.”

And I really am energized by it. There's nothing that undid me across the museum, the way the narratives of people's of slaves commitments to their family staff salute. And over and over and over again, I would see the pictures or read the stories or read their words and think about my seven year old. There's one of which a young kid, the father who's being taken from him talks about him running and like trying to hit the chains around us, if to break them. Yeah, you know, or the men and women parted from each other.

Yeah, you know, and people's names are changed to go back to what you were saying about the names.

When the people you love are taken from you, you will very likely never see them again.

So now do I take nothing away from that here? I actually found it to be the most affecting. Right? The commitment to the fundamental nature of being a human being, which is loving and caring for yours. And there's nothing I found to be more indicative of like the way people turn themselves into monsters in the system and that they would do this to, then that they would force people to advertise themselves on a slave block. And then whip them for crying upon separation from the slave block. Right? It just, I find it unimaginable.

Yeah. So when I ask about the abolitionists, I don't ask to reduce the story of slavery to an narrative about them.

“But the reason I do ask about them and the reason why I do it from a different angle is that you've been talking here about what it means to inhabit these moments and ask, how could that be me?”

Right? What it means to inhabit this moment and ask, not just how could you identify with the man who is lynched, but what does it mean to identify with the people watching the man be lynched? But there's also something if you're thinking about how these stories lead you towards justice. So what does it mean to commit yourself to that when it's not easy, when it's not a majoritarian position, when you don't see the civil war coming. And yes, like the story of Frederick Douglass or Garrison or all these different people, it can be reduced down to cliche.

But it's also not just cliche. I mean the abolitionists movement, all these movements, they are their own incredible, unlikely acts.

I'm just why you didn't focus on the museum, but how do you take it? Well, I just, I mean, I think it is an intentional choice. I think I think we've tended to make the abolitionists, the heroes of the anti-slavery movement that they were the leaders who won the struggle for emancipation. And I just think that's not complete. I even think it borders on dishonesty.

“I think the four million, the ten million people who went slave to it in 46 years, and found a way to hold onto their humanity and the dignity.”

There's nothing more that contributes to abolition than to stay human when you're being treated as an enslaved person. To hold onto your dignity when you're being denied your dignity, the hold onto your humanity when your humanity is being crushed. I think they are the heroes of that story. They are the champions. And you could be in Boston writing in nice and polite things that others can read. But that's not the hard thing about enduring enslavement. It's not the hard thing. It's not going to be the thing that gets us where we're trying to go.

And so I don't have any problems with all of those who did all that they did. But I think we are not acknowledging the power, the strength, the courage it took to endure. Those husbands and wives and children and siblings that spent their last nickels and dimes to find their loved ones after emancipation. You have to understand that heart if you really want to understand how did slavery in. And similarly in the civil rights context, you know, I love Dr. King. I love Mrs. Parks, the privilege of getting to know. I love the names that are known by other people.

But it's the cooks and the maids and the laborers who had to walk three miles every day to get to work because they didn't have a car.

It's these ordinary people doing extraordinary things. It's the 50,000 black people in the city, most of whom whose names will never be known. Again, nothing but admiration for Frederick Douglass.

He actually used the words of William Wells Brown at Freedom Monument, sculpture park who was also like Douglass, someone who escaped slavery. But what he writes about is the pain of enslavement. He wants people to understand what it was like to hear his mother being whipped when he had been pulled into the house to work inside the house, but his mother was still out in the field.

“He wants people to read about his heartbreak when he tried to escape and was caught. Those are the stories I think that are important to understanding this legacy.”

His story was very, very powerful to read as it creates a sort of narrative as you move through the park. So he tells the story of escaping with his mother at one point.

And they're traveling and they feel near to freedom. It's a particularly difficult pillar to read because you can begin to feel that they're going to be caught and they are. But the part that is stuck with me is they're caught by functionally bounty hunters, and he's bound and they're taken and they're being taken back, but they and the hunters stop for the night somewhere to spend the night. And the people who hunted them who captured this man and his mother and are going to bring them back to terrible punishment, maybe death, definitely bondage, take out a Bible and read from it to everybody that night.

And he talks in that, in that recounting of it about, well, how is it that this person, imagine himself to be a Christian? And Christianity is so present in the museum. It is so present on all sides of the conflict of the civil rights movement, but also of the people fighting the civil rights movement.

“The KKK is a Christian organization. It's so present in slavery. Even just from the perspective of story, how do you understand how the same book, the same words, can take such a different forms?”

I think again, Christianity, when you have a lot of power, when you have a lot of status, can be corruptive. And the Gospels speak to this, they basically say wealth and power and privilege is something that will make you a bad Christian. It will keep you away from the kingdom of God. And unfortunately, in a nation as wealthy and powerful and privileged as our nation, there's just not as much emphasis on that. I actually think, I would love, I want everybody to come to our spaces, but I want a particularly Christians to come and I just want them to ask themselves,

where those Christians on the right side, not just of history, but on the right side of theology, of Christianity, of faith, who tried to justify and defend slavery. Similarly, when Christians were saying, black people over here, white people over here, the biggest proponent of segregation allowed us upon it, of the Montgomery Bus Boycott, was the pastor of the Baptist Church here in Montgomery, were they good Christians, were they good believers or were they misled, did something get between them and true Christianity.

“You ask that question and you have to say yes, it just prompts them, these new questions for you, for how you function, how you believe.”

If we believe we are called to do justice and love mercy and walk humbly, do you think those things should be easy or do you think those things are going to be hard? I can tell you they're going to be hard. You have to prepare yourself to do something hard, the good news is that we have been empowered to do the hard thing because of our faith. I mean, I've always believed I had to believe things I haven't seen. I mean, you know, nobody, my family had gone to college before I had to believe that even though I hadn't seen it. I'd never met a lawyer had to believe I could be something I'd never seen.

We came to Alabama in 1980s to represent people on death row. Everybody said you can't help anybody on death row in Alabama, you'll never win a case.

We had to believe we could make a difference even though we hadn't seen it. And even today, I have to believe that there is something better waiting for us in America.

They'd get battered and bloodied and beaten while they were praying on their knees and then they would go back home, wipe the blood off.

Pick their bibles back up and do it again. I stand on the shoulders of people who did so much more with so much less. And so I just think that's where Christianity has power. It's where faith has power, doesn't just have to be Christianity. It's the ability to believe things that we haven't seen to do things that haven't been done before. It is the engine that drives the power of faith.

“And that's what Dr. King and the Civil Rights community, I think, got so right. They knew that they could empower people who had lived lives rooted in that view to now challenge segregation to challenge this racial order.”

This is my own view. But one thing I have to think about is that spirituality, great spiritual teacher is mystics. They are unruly and they are disruptive.

True of Jesus, true of any prophet you might want to name.

And religions over time, not every single one of them, not at all times, but they often come to prize order. And spirituality often wants to be reorder the world and religions often want to maintain it sort of because they are built around the world as it is. And one of the places you saw that and you see it so often in the history of slavery of civil rights. But you have a recruiting bill from, I believe, the Citizens Council, which is, you know, group in the south, built to fight civil rights. And it's trying to convince other white citizens to give their $4 give their $6.

And what it promises isn't white supremacy, it's racial harmony. It says, "We are here to maintain racial harmony in Selma." That if you work with us, we'll get you another decade of racial harmony in Selma. And the way that the status quo, the order of oppression, can look like harmony to those, it is not harming.

You read history of the Civil Rights Act and Civil Rights Act was always called agitators.

“They're agitating things. That's right. Yeah. No, I think you're absolutely right.”

If you think religion creates stability, if you think religion creates calm, if you think it creates order, then that will be your narrative. That will be the message that you try to give to people and that's exactly what happened. So the white Citizens Council in Montgomery was very small until the Montgomery Bus Boycott. And it drew dramatically. The mayor wasn't a member. The police chief wasn't a member until the Montgomery Bus Boycott. But every month of that boycott, thousands and thousands more people started joining the white Citizens Council.

All because black people were not riding the bus. And they saw that as destabilizing. They saw that as, and because Dr. King was articulating these things that people hadn't articulated before. And he was challenging them. I mean, you listen to these speeches he gave. He would say the mass meetings that we have to help our white brothers and sisters. He says because segregation is evil. And later segregation, many need roles lost faith in themselves.

Many came to feel that perhaps they were less than human. They came to feel that they were inferior. This seems to me as the greatest tragedy of slavery, the greatest tragedy of segregation. Not merely what it does to the individual physically, but what it does to one psychologically. It scarves the soul of the segregated as well as the segregated soul.

It gives a segregated or false sense of superiority while leaving the segregated with a false sense of inferiority. And this is exactly what happened. And then something happened to the Negro. It was brilliant. But it was particularly arranging to the white Citizens Council.

Because he was actually saying, hey, white people, I've got something to help you to.

“And that's what made it so provocative because he was saying we need a new order.”

We need a new future. To transform this pending cosmic energy into a creative form of peace and brotherhood with this faith,

Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, Hindus and Muslims, fears and atheists. We'll be able to join hands and sing into words of the old Negro spiritual. Free at last, free at last. Thank God Almighty, we are free at last. We have a long, long way to go before this.

“And that's why both in Christianity and in a lot of religions,”

there's a message to the wealthy and the power of the privilege as well to you wealthy. Well to you privileged people, you have to think differently than your wealth and your privilege will push you to think. You have to think differently than your status will push you to think.

And I think something that some people of faith are embracing and using in very powerful ways and there's something that others are not.

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The civil rights movement, I feel it when I watch the videos here. I feel it when I read the histories of it. It is hard for me to believe it existed. That's true for, as you were saying a minute ago, the names we associate with it. The Martin Luther King Jr. is a barred rastins.

But it's even more true for the people who showed up at marches who were never going to be written about.

And who did so knowing they might take a brick to the head.

“I think it's a picture in the museum and you just see a white man swinging a baseball bat at the back of a black woman.”

People who came day after day, the people who decided to send their children into the teeth of bullconner. Who chose to do that and that was very very controversial. Mark King Jr. and others were heavily criticized for it. That and to say nothing of just the bus boycott, which went on not for a week or a month, but nearly a year. Over year, over year, 382 days.

It's almost a hard text because I think people look at it. And the restraint and the love. It doesn't feel... I almost think it's easy to imagine yourself suffering or inflicting suffering, right? Like being a victim or being a perpetrator. Then to choose to absorb suffering with that kind of grace and restraint.

And yeah, I wonder how you... Yeah, I think the brilliance of that generation of leaders is that they knew that they didn't have the economic power, the military power or the political power to force change. So they had to use the power they had. It was a morality in standing up against violence, with nonviolence, being well-dressed and disciplined in the face of all of this brutality. When people were cussing and swearing at you, you were smiling, sending your children into spaces where they would be fire host or menace by dogs or beaten and brutalized.

It was a profound, unprecedented use of kind of moral power of using humanity to confront the inhumanity of those who abuse.

When Dr. King is the first speech at the first mass meeting and he's being very, he's, you know, he's, you know, or Nate with his language, he's got all of the flourishes.

“But he's being very methodical, and he's saying, who happened to Rosa Parks, but at some point after laying it all out, what he says is, "But we're tired now."”

And that's when everybody erupts. It was the exhaustion of constantly dealing with the status quo, the humiliation, the degradation, the constant threats and menacing. That people said, "We won our freedom, and we won our freedom now." And most of them were prepared to die for their freedom. And in a lot of ways, I appreciate that and I recognize that. I do. Because I'm, in my '60s, I've been representing people on death row and children in courts for 40 years. I've been fighting for a more just system. I want to end cruelty and abuse of people and prisons.

I want all of those things. I'm a product of Brown versus Board of Education. At a time when I don't think we could win Brown versus Board of Education, I think we've retreated so much.

And no matter what I do, no matter what I say, I will still go places in this country where I am presumed dangerous and guilty because of my color.

I still have to navigate presumptions of incompetence because of my color. I still bear the burden when I'm stopped by the police to make sure that nothing tragic and violent happens.

“And so do my nephews and nieces and their children and it's continuing and it's continuing. And when you have to constantly navigate a presumption of danger, this is the guilt because of your color.”

When you have to constantly confront presumptions of incompetence, when you have to constantly bear the burden of other people's ignorance, it's exhausting. And when you get to a certain point, you say, "I want freedom, and I want freedom now." And to get to that something better, we're going to have to do some things differently. And I'm saying things, I just never imagine I would say, but I'm saying them, I've decided recently that I am prepared to represent the 10 million black people who were enslaved for 246 years in this country.

And when people try to deny the suffering and try to deny their humiliation and distort their stories and minimize their pain and agony, I want to be their advocate. I want to stand up for them and say, "No, you need to understand this. You need to hear this." I want to represent the millions of black people who were forced to leave the American South because of terror violence.

Six million black people fled the American South and they left lands that they owned.

They gave up opportunity to create wealth for their children and grandchildren because of terror violence and our country's unwillingness to enforce the rule of law. And I want to represent them as they now continue to struggle with the economic consequences of that hardship. I want to represent the people who had to deal with the humiliation and degradation of Jim Crow and segregation. Those signs that said white and colored, they weren't directions, they were assaults, they created real injuries. And that's why I'm committed to creating this era of truth and justice, truth and repair, truth and reconciliation, truth and restoration.

And it needs to happen now. We have to create a new era and I say era very intentionally. It can't be like five years ago. It can't be a march for a few weeks. It's going to take decades. We're going to have to build and we're going to have to imagine things. And we're going to have to be structured and systematic and all of those things. We need to create something better.

“And that's why when I think about the 250th, I want to think about the 300th.”

You mentioned the difference between a moment and an era. And a moment you sort of described as what happened five years ago. So what do you take as having happened five years ago? I mean, there was this moment. There was marches in the streets and black lives matter. And a sense that something really different, I mean, it was very popular called the reckoning. And when Biden and then Kamala Harris ran for reelection, we're not going back.

Was one of the big, right? You said, we're not going back. They said, we're not going back and then be a little bit. Oh, we're back. And you know, so now Donald Trump is president and the 250th. You know, and President and part on a very explicit promise to represent a very different vision of American history. When you look back on what happened five years ago, what do you learn? What does need to be done?

It was too popular. Everybody just got to walk and claim something and didn't have to give anything. Didn't have to do anything really hard. And some people got mad when I said it's not that hard to kind of march under these conditions. The police weren't really brutal lodging. You'd like they did on the Edmund Pettis Bridge.

“And I think the same thing was true for corporations.”

You know, who started saying, yes, diversity, equity, inclusion, black lives matter. They didn't say it in 2015, but they were willing to say it in 2021. And we made it too easy.

Always arguing, look, don't say we're going to commit to diversity, equity and inclusion without first admitting to all of the harms that you created.

When you denied promotions to women and people of color for the last 30 years, do report that documents the discrimination and the bigotry. And the ways you held women and people of color back in your company, women and people of color who were more skilled, more competent than their white peers. And they denied the promotions because you didn't trust women and people of color to be in leadership. Admitted that, document that name names and then say, but today we're going to commit to a new era where we're going to embrace diversity.

We're not going to allow gender and race to keep the most qualified person from playing the leadership role. We're going to have equity. We're going to be inclusive. And two things would have happened. The company would know that when somebody says you shouldn't do DE, they would know how to respond to that.

They would say, no, we're doing this because this is what we used to do. And we're not going to do that anymore. That was wrong. And this is not. And people who were looking at it wouldn't think that black people in women are just getting benefits that they don't deserve. But that was hard for corporations and most of them wouldn't do it. They didn't do it. And so then when somebody comes along and says, no, we're going to wipe that out. They say, okay.

And so that's what I mean by an era. We've got to admit to the heart thing. So this legacy of slavery is something we have to acknowledge if we're going to actually get to something better. The lynching violence and the terror violence. We have to acknowledge if we're going to create a world where mobs don't form when our political candidate doesn't win.

And they engage in violent protest.

For me, the lesson, I joke Fred Gray, the amazing lawyer who's still alive,

who represented Dr. King and was the architect of the Bradley versus Gale and did so much in the 90s. So I joke with him sometimes when we get together. Mr. Gray, we need to go back to 1965.

“And he'll say, what were we going to do when we get back to 1965?”

I said, you know, I think we misjudged what was needed. I wish we could get back to 1965. And what I want to say in 1965 to Alabama, Mississippi and Jordan, Louisiana, it is not enough for you to just vote against the voting rights. For you to just exist.

I think we should have said all of you states that disenfranchised black people for 100 years.

You are now required to automatically register every black person when they become 18 years of age.

Wouldn't been radical. It would not have been radical. It would have been a way of giving the violators of that right, an opportunity to reckon with it. And the people who had been harmed by that, an opportunity to benefit. I don't think it would have been wrong in 1965 to say you all made polling places,

dangerous and treacherous for black people, 400 years. So it's not right for them to have to come to the dangerous place.

“You should go into the black community and get their vote.”

Let me ask you not just about what you would like to have happened. But how the power or the narrative to make that happen happens. There is a tremendous amount in that sort of five year period we're talking about. That just it was right. And what we saw was it was not able to build our sustain power.

In fact, it created more backlash and was able to create staying power in many ways. And so, you know, you talk about happens on the Edmund Pettis Bridge. And that is people putting themselves on the line to create images meant to create power. And it works to some amount. And then at a certain point, I mean, and you know, this history much better than me,

there's white backlash to that and, you know, white we pass these bills. How are there still urban riots, you know, when is it going to be enough? So when you talk about moving to this new era and you talk about the power of these narratives. And you know, what what lessons are there about building the power? Because the corporations are talking about they don't want to go back and do a large analysis.

Analysis of who they did not promote and in what ways and open themselves to legal risk and all the rest of it. People are, we talked about the appeal of the harmony of the person. The harmony of the person is very seductive, right?

One is stability.

I actually think those companies that are willing to do that become stronger companies, become healthier companies.

Those are country companies that are going to thrive and create an environment for employment. That's going to be so much more effective than those that continue to hide and deny their harms.

“So I think the problem with five years ago, is it wasn't rooted?”

We didn't require people to know the history of police violence against black and people. We didn't require them to understand the nature of the struggle over 400 years.

We just allowed people to walk with a sign and that was it.

So I think it has to be rooted when I talk about an era of truth and justice, truth and repair, truth and reconciliation, truth and restoration. I think those things are sequential. I don't think you can skip the truth telling part and get to the beautiful artwork. I think we make a mistake when we do that. And just again, coming from a faith tradition, in my church, you can't come to my church and say, "Oh, I want salvation and redemption and having an all that good stuff."

But I'm not going to admit to anything. I'm not going to confess to every doing anything wrong. The clergy in my community will say, "Oh, no, it doesn't work like that."

“You have to first confess. You have to repent.”

But you shouldn't fear it. They will lovingly tell you, "Do not fear confession and repentance." And I'll explain to you that confession and repentance acknowledgment is what opens up your heart to grace and mercy. That's how redemption happens. That's how repair happens. In a lover relationship, we learn that we have to sometimes be willing to say, "I'm sorry." You show me two people have been in love for 50 years. I'll show you two people have learned how to apologize to one another. When they offend, when they make a mistake, we understand that in our personal lives, but I think the same is true, in our collective life, our communal life, our national life.

Those in effort to make people repent. There wasn't effort to make people reckon in a way that there hasn't been certainly in other times in my lifetime. And the place I'm pushing here isn't about whether or not I think it would be good if people did so. But what did you learn from the way the backlash overtook the project? I mean, again, Donald Trump is going to be president for the 250th. I was thinking before we sat down today about the way he frames what it means to believe in America versus the way Obama framed what it means to believe in America.

And his framing of it is very much to believe that America is great, that the story of being a patriot is loving your country very much as it is. Obama's story was very much that the people who have made America great, that people in part of the process of change are the true patriots. It was a creed written into the founding documents that declared the destiny of a nation. Yes, we came. It was whispered by slaves and abolitionists as they blazed a trail towards freedom through the darkest of nights. Yes, we came.

It was sung by immigrants as they struck out from distant shores and pioneers who pushed westward against an unforgiving wilderness. Yes, we came. It was the call of workers who organized women who reached for the ballot, a president who chose the moon is our new frontier and a king who took us to the mountain top and pointed the way to the promised land. Yes, we came to justice and equality. But I do think there's real ways in which the left lost patriotism to the right. It felt like it was just an endless confrontation with sins without maybe necessarily the space for grace that you're talking about.

And so to keep that from happening again, what do you believe should be done differently? Yeah, well, I think first of all, I think we've gone through a moment where our platforms have been dominated by people who represent perspectives that I don't think necessarily represent the perspectives of the majority of the population, but they create the debate, they create the discussion. And I think we're getting better at evaluating that and understanding that. But I don't think this is something can be shaped by academic elites.

“I don't think it should be shaped by even media elites. I don't think it should be shaped by people who have by one means or another created platforms. You have to be connected.”

Dr. King succeeded because he had the respect of every black person in this community. And if he didn't, wouldn't have worked. They were connected. Before we had elected black officials, you had just people doing your story and everything in the community. They became the leaders because of what they did, not because they won an election.

Secondly, I just think there is a lot of power in appreciating what people have already done to get us to where we are.

That is what has already been done, the nature of that progress, the nature of that struggle. I mean, when people say to me, oh, it's just so much harder now. I mean, the truth is we've never been better position to win a narrative war to create an era truth in just as there are more talented writers and journalists. There's a diversity in journalism that has never existed before. There's a diversity of platforms. We have more scholars. We have more this. We have more everything. We're better position than we've ever been. The question is, do we have the will? Do we have an understanding of what we must do?

And I just look at different movements. I mean, 30 years ago, nobody would have predicted that there would be marriage equality. What got us to marriage equality was a narrative movement that calls people to retreat from this idea that only a man can level woman.

“We just started to see the limitations of that. And then we got to the point where we could see it's not stable. We may see retreat. But that's a progress that is real progress that has changed the lives of real people based on that movement.”

I want to read you something that Donald Trump said when he announced the 1776 commission, his response to the times of 1619 project. And he said, our mission is to defend the legacy of America's founding. The virtue of America's heroes and the nobility of the American character. We must clear away the twisted web of lies in our schools and classrooms and teach our children the magnificent truth about our country. We want our sons and our daughters to know that they have citizens of the most exceptional nation in history of the world.

Something you just said to me a few times is that we, and I take the we here to mean those who believe in a more just more free America, an America that is beyond where it is today, have never been better position to win what you call the narrative war. And so rather than have you answer that, what I'd like to hear you describe here as we come to a close is what is that narrative. What is the thing at the center of the answer to that if if what Trump wants to tell everybody at the anniversary is this country has always been great and the people who are trying to take its greatness from you are the enemy.

“What is the story that you want to see the people seeking justice tell in return the story that you think and build that power and change the country?”

I don't think greatness is defined by who has the most powerful military. I don't think greatness is defined by who has the most money.

I don't think greatness is defined by who has done the most innovation with regard to technology. It's not defined by who gets to the moon first or tomorrow's first. Those are all notable and laudable achievements.

“But when I think about human history and when I think about the human struggle, I'm quite convinced that greatness is defined by our capacity to love one another.”

Our capacity to care for people we don't have to care for. Our capacity to show mercy. Our capacity to help those in need. Our capacity to get beyond boundaries and borders that have either artificially or naturally limited us. Our capacity to unlock opportunities for those who have been unfairly bound and burdened. So when I look at our history, the things that make me proud are the things that people have done to overcome. I actually think there's an American story that appreciates the underdog who does the great thing that no one thought they could do.

The team that wins when nobody expected them to win. The person who dazzles when no one thought they had that ability, the person who shocks you because they have a voice you didn't expect them to have, the person who surprises you because they can do things in an entertainment or an athletic space. You didn't expect them to do that's what creates wonder. That's what makes you appreciate the glory of being a human, the beauty of being a human.

And nothing I think reflects greatness more than our desire to see that everywhere and that opportunity given to everyone.

It's not a stable or sustainable space to occupy those who diminish and deny and marginalize human relations, care, love, mercy, justice, those societies fall.

And I still like to believe that America's best days are in front of us. And when I roll my eyes when people say make America great again, it's not because I minimize some of the things we've done in the past. I just have to believe there is something better waiting for us. And I believe that I really do. I think we are poised to do some things but we're also threatened to go back. And so we're going to have to win this struggle. But yeah, I think for me greatness is creating a world where there's more love with there's more hope with there's more mercy with there's more opportunity, where there's less sickness, where there's less poverty, where there's less despair, where there's the kind of

“joy and beauty that I think we all crave. And our government should facilitate an opportunity for more of that, more of that beauty, more of that joy, more of that love.”

Not block people from understanding things that get in the way of joy and beauty and love, like bigotry and violence and hatred and racial categorizations and hierarchy.

I think to me that's the greatness that I'm looking for. This is something that I thought walking through the sculptures. It had to have been a choice to represent things that were that are so hard to bear, so hard to look in the sun of their cruelty. In ways that are so beautiful. Not a ways it's a very difficult place to move through. It sits heavy at you and yet it is all you've found or the artist there.

And the space you chose and the garden you created. I mean, there's one sculpture there of a child who's the slave child who is hurt his hand, picking cotton showing it to his mother.

“And there's cotton real cotton balls. I'll never forget how beautiful and sad that sculpture is.”

But that choice to represent so much hardship and beauty struck me is very moving. Yeah, yeah, I mean, I guess it's just what I've learned from my work. I mean, I've chosen to stand next to condemned people. Who are going to be executed and you can ask yourself why would you get close to something like that? And what I've learned is that when you're kind of close to the disfavorite, the marginalized that condemned, you sometimes have the ability to harness the power of love and grace and create something beautiful in the midst of something really ugly.

And those are the things that people hold on to. What inspires me the most about representing the people I represent is to see their humanity, to see them say something. Here them say something or see them do something beautiful. And I just think if you understand that enslaved people had the capacity to show compassion and love to their children, you begin to understand slavery differently.

“You don't go too well. They benefit it from slavery. They ended up better off than you were because you understand that they're not so different. And so yes, I think beauty is important.”

I mean, it's I, you know, I've seen a lot of ugly, a lot of ugly and you know, locking people up in cages and seeing some of the bigotry and the hostility that people have sometimes showed I've gotten death threats and there's a lot of ugly. But oh, the beauty. Oh, the glory. I mean, you know, the remarkable things that I get to see among condemned people, people or in jails and prisons people. We have an anti-hunger program now. We're going into the black belt. Alabama has one of the highest rates of food insecurity in the country.

And so we go into these communities, we support families who are food insecure. We give them basically $415 a month or six months. So they have some space to do some other things. And then we have a mobile grocery that goes into these rare really isolated areas and sell groceries at next to nothing and people come out. And there is a love and an excitement and an appreciation. Everybody on my staff is fighting to be on the team that goes out because it's just so energizing. And every now and then I'll talk to somebody and when, you know, an older person pulls me aside and just says, thank you for doing this and we allow people in the program to identify other people who should be in the program. So I'll say to some of the people in the program, you pick three people in your community who you think needs this more than you.

Just because you're poor doesn't mean you don't want to help other people. And she's more grateful that we have allowed her in her words to be a philanthropist.

And for me, there's a beauty in that, not just the material exchange, but in understanding the heart of this human being who despite poverty wants to be generous. And instead of just labeling and demonizing and marginalizing the poor, when we understand there's a desire in that community to be generous, we think differently about what it would mean to fight poverty. And so, yes, I think that beauty is really important, without the beauty of overcoming segregation in Jerome Crow, the beauty of overcoming the violence and and menace of lynching and not hating everybody for that, the beauty of choosing American citizenship and not retribution and revenge after emancipation.

And it'd be hard to believe in this country. But when I experience that beauty and I see that beauty, and I know that beauty doesn't have a racial boundary, it doesn't have an age boundary, it doesn't have a gender boundary, it doesn't have an identity boundary, it is a human experience that we can all embrace, then I'm motivated.

I'll end before asking on books, something you just said, what it means to choose this country, what it means to believe in the country.

I know a lot of people who have come to feel very alienated from the country of the past 10 years. Trump's first term in a second term, and what he represents in the way he acts and the thing he says, been hard for them to do so many of their countrymen chose him, chose him again, they actually have done reckoning with parts of the country's past. They maybe did not know that much about, and that has been deeply overwhelming. It's a hard thing to hold, and the mixture of the two and then the 250th coming when it does, and in the political moment it does.

When I asked him then I said, do you love the country? Would you say you believe in America sort of pause and said, well, it's a hard moment.

“So what do you does it mean to love America to believe in it to choose it?”

I think for me, at least it's kind of the wrong question do you love America. It feels like it's a question created as a sort of a kind of a litmus test. It's like asking, you know, which child do you love the most? We think that's an inappropriate question because we have an obligation, we have a responsibility to all of our children. I am an American, and when I think about my four parents as much as I have been recently, they have thought for me to be an American.

I think they emancipated those four million black people who were emancipated after this sort are some of the greatest Americans I can identify, because they committed when it wasn't rational.

They contributed when it wasn't appreciated. They persevered when they were being threatened and menace. They continued to believe, despite unspeakable abuse and cruelty.

“I think they're the greatest Americans. I'm not trying to rank Americans, but if you ask me, to name some great Americans, I'm going to name the four million people who were emancipated, who continued to fight.”

Just like I would name the people in this community in 1955 who committed themselves to staying off the buses. They were great Americans. And so I want to be a great American too. I want to be a great American like my enslaved four parents, like my grandparents who fled terror violence and fought for a better way, like my parents who dealt with the humiliation and degradation of segregation. It's not the only kind of American, but I want to be a great American. And so my heart is in creating a world where that becomes easier and easier for more and more people.

Because if I think about America, if I try to reduce it to something, it's a place for everybody who wants better, who believes in equality, who believes in justice, who believes in fairness, who believes in opportunity.

“That's the essence of it. And so to get there, we have to do some work. And it's been going on for a long time. It will go on for a lot longer. But that's what I want. Yeah, I want to be a great American in that tradition.”

That's a beautiful recasting that not what does it mean to choose America, but what does it mean to choose to be? Yeah, the great American. Yeah, always a final question. What are three books you recommended the audience? I think a great book I recently reread was their eyes were watching God by Zoran Neil Hurston.

Brian Stevenson, thank you very much. Very welcome. Very welcome.