The newspaper report ripped through my mind and heart like a tornado. I was only ten years old in 1955 when my world as a colored child was totally shaken.
In Mississippi, fourteen-year old Emmett Till was kidnapped and tortured, tortured so brutally that when his corpse was recovered, he was not recognizable.
Like most colored, and especially as a child, his disfigured face traumatized me. This was the reality of being colored in America, especially in Mississippi, considered an uncivilized state for coloreds.
Our parents and community family immediately anchored us even more in unconditional love. The power of this love let us know that they would protect us from all harm. Within our community we were safe.
I did not realize how much I had been traumatized by Tills’ murder until some thirty years later. My Ethiopian husband and my five-year-old son were driving from Florida to New Orleans. Passing through Mississippi, my son saw a sign to a road leading to a beach. Both my son and husband were eager to go. I, on the other hand, had an immediate anxiety attack. The thought of driving down a country road in Mississippi was unbearable. My husband kept asking me what was wrong, as he continued down the road.
I only returned to “myself” when when I saw another colored family at the beach.
I wasn’t able to explain my strange reaction. Neither my son or husband could understand the fear I experienced as a colored child in America, especially when it came to Mississippi.
I recently watched the movie “Till.” All my anguish came back when Mamie was told of her son’s murder. It’s been 67 years, yet those fears I felt as a child flooded my heart and mind. I grabbed and held my now-50-year-old son, telling him how much I loved him.
The fears of my ten-year old colored girl self are deep in my psyche. And affect me still, especially as a mother, as I have had to witness the pain of the mothers of young men like Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown, and Tamir Rice, and too many more.
"In my life, I have found myself as a colored, a negro, a Black, an African American, and a person of color. This is my reflection as a colored girl." This phrase opens each essay in the series “Reflections of a Colored Girl” from Martha R. Bireda, Ph.D. being aired on WGCU FM. Dr. Bireda is a writer, lecturer, and living history performer with over 30 years' experience as a lecturer, consultant and trainer for issues related to race, class, and gender, working with educators, law enforcement, and business, and civic leaders. She also is director of the Blanchard House Museum of African American History and Culture of Charlotte County, in Punta Gorda, Florida. Bireda was born in Southwest Florida in 1945 but spent the first 10 years of her life in a small town in Western Virginia. Her family then moved back to Punta Gorda, where they have deep roots. This is one essay in her series.
