John Y. Brown, III: MLK Day

What has been our greatest act honoring MLK?

A fair question to ask ourselves today.

In 1984, I had the privilege of studying abroad with a group of 500 other students. We spent 4 days and 3 nights in Capetown, South Africa. Nelson Mandela, an anti-Apartheid activist, was in prison and we were taught that he’d surely die there.

Apartheid policy, South Africa’s legal segregation, ensured that the 20% of the population that was white would keep the 80% that were non-white in subjugation.

But that didn’t happen. Apartheid was on a collision course with history. Nelson Mandela not only left prison but in 1994 was elected the first black president of South Africa.

But in 1984 things were very different. Of the 500 students in the program only 4 visited a “Township,” an impoverished urban area where non-white workers were housed.

I was one of them….and encouraged the other three to join me in a taxi ride through a nearby Township. I wasn’t being a martyr. I was mostly curious. My heart went out to the non-whites in South Africa who weren’t allowed to walk on city streets after midnight.

I had given half my cheeseburger the night before to a black man who asked for it–but wasn’t allowed in the diner at that time of night. I felt like I’d traveled back in time 20 years….but wanted mostly to understand.

The cab driver drove us through the Township offering commentary about how the men were bused in from hours away and would stay for several weeks at a time. The scraps from cows (tongue, nose, unwanted parts) were sold on the streets as flies were swatted away unsuccessfully.

I brought a book by MLK with me that day–a collection of his thoughts and quotes. I’m not sure why. Before leaving the Township, I asked the cab driver to slow down. Several men looked inside the cab curious about the 4 young white boys inside. I rolled down the window and handed one the MLK book on civil disobedience and waved good-bye.

The cab driver warned me that was dangerous to do and I shouldn’t have done that. He was an Africaaner. A race with slightly more rights than blacks but still significantly inferior rights to whites.

I doubt the book ever got read becoming a source of inspiration. Who knows? But I’m proud of my act….not really a brave act but a small but caring act showing I was engaged…..and in response to a system we all knew was untenable.

I was not rebelling or meddling where I shouldn’t. I was trying in some very small and almost insignificant way to help —that was personal to me. Of course, the book I gave didn’t matter in the scheme of things….but mattered to me. It was something I could do at that moment. And I did it. And 27 years later, it stands out to me as the personal act that most honored MLK. A great man we honor today.