Every few years, my consistently intrepid mother would experience terrifying nightmares. When I was 7, I asked her to tell me what monster was frightening her so much that she stirred and let out petrifying screams in her sleep.
Mom, its just pretend, I said. Its only a dream. As her breathing decelerated, and she realized she was safe in her bed, my mother turned to me and said: Baby, it was real. I wish it were only a dream. One day Ill tell you about the men who kicked me in my stomach.
Soon after, my mother explained to me what was keeping her from sleeping soundly. I learned that she had been beaten, jailed more than a dozen times, chased by dogs, and hosed down by South Carolina police during the civil rights movement.
Women at the 1963 civil rights march on Washington. Routine acts of aggression against women civil rights protesters were seldom met with accountability.
While I grew up with the knowledge that my family held deep roots in civil rights activism, my mothers stories about the origins of her horrific dreams chilled my bones.
Among many other accounts, she spoke about being kicked repeatedly in the area surrounding her reproductive organs by white men for sitting at a lunch counter.
Mom recalled the trauma of surviving 1968s Orangeburg Massacre in her South Carolina college community. That February day, police opened fire on a crowd of people protesting segregation, killing three and injuring 28 peopleone of whom was a pregnant woman who miscarried as a result of the brutality.
According to my mother, black womens bodies were often battlegrounds for opponents of civil rights. She specified that while all demonstrators were in danger of being attacked, women were often specifically targeted. She explained that the thugs (civilians and so-called law enforcement officers) who battered her and her female counterparts often exacerbated their attacks to threaten black womens dignity, and to spark the patriarchal ire of male protesters