Cheryl Rivers

The murders, and the racism that came to the fore afterward, left me feeling deeply embittered toward the society around me that valued religious participation and claimed the moral high ground, yet accepted the racist status quo. That summer was a pivotal moment: I knew I was going to leave Mississippi. I’m skeptical that the arrest of Killen 41 years after the fact will bring healing. James Chaney’s grave has been desecrated and his mother had to move out of Mississippi because it wasn’t safe for her to live there. Nevertheless, there are hopeful signs of change. Political assassination is no longer acceptable here. But sadly, the impact of recent prosecutions in civil rights era murder cases has not been notable. For example, in 1994, when Byron De La Beckwith was convicted of the 1963 murder of Medgar Evers, I didn’t see a catharsis in Mississippi as a result. I feel the same despair reading about these killings today as I did in 1964. Yet I hope that I can also hold onto the idealism of my adolescence, when I learned to confront the existence of injustice in the world. The songs we sang in the movement were emblematic of our faith in transformation. “Oh Freedom,” for example, declared, “Before I’d be a slave, I’d be buried in my grave, and be free.” “We Shall Not be Moved” urged us to brave the danger around us. “We Shall Overcome” stirred us and supported our resolve. The moral promises of the civil rights movement remain unfulfilled. — Beliefnet.com, concluded