My name is Arianna, and I am a junior at school this

year.  Last year, around October, I attended a school-

wide assembly about an educational trip to study the

Civil Rights Movement led by Sojourn to the Past.

I was so inspired by the Mr. Steinberg’s presentation

that I told my parents about it that evening.  My

enthusiasm and detailed description of the trip

convinced them to attend the informational meeting later that week.  This meeting

was a longer, more detailed version of the presentation I saw at school, and after,

not only did my parents insist that I attend, but they wanted to go themselves!  So

about five months later, on March 13, 2008, I and twelve other fellow students flew

from LAX airport, to embark on what would be a life-changing experience.

Sojourn to the Past turned out to be so much more

than an educational trip.  Of course, it certainly was

very educational.  I learned more about the Civil

Rights Movement in ten days than a teacher could have taught me in a semester.  And what I learned

was so much deeper than textbook knowledge because I was able to actually see

where the events took place, and meet people who took part in the movement –

who saw it with their own eyes.  I cannot even begin to convey what it feels like

when you spend an hour or two learning the heroic story of what is at first a

removed historical figure, and then having the privilege to walk into a room

where this person is ready to speak to you.  That historical figure immediately

becomes a real, living, normal person.  History is no longer a history book,

but rather the story of a present fellow human being’s past.

On Sojourn, I was not challenged only scholastically,

but I also experienced an emotional journey.

Somewhat ironically, my internal struggle had to

do with skin color.  A common misconception is that

Sojourn to the Past is an exclusive trip for African-American students. We learned the stories of many amazing people who acted with

courage, patience, nonviolence, and always with love, even in the face of violence,

death, and hate.  In these stories, the antagonists always looked the same – white,

and maybe blonde haired, blue eyed, freckled… basically people who looked just like

me.  I felt that I somehow represented that hate and destruction and malice with

which they committed terrible crimes, and consequently I felt a deep sense of guilt.

I felt that I somehow also shared the responsibility of

the horror and terror the white supremacists spread

because I shared their skin color.  This especially

affected me at the Civil Rights Memorial in

Montgomery, Alabama.  Overcome by the names of

the people who died in the movement, I was shaking as I wrote my personal

reflection, sitting on the stone wall by the memorial.  Then someone approached me

and gently handed me a few tissues.  Gratefully I took them, and, at this act of

kindness, out flooded the tears I’d been keeping in.  The woman who brought the

tissues turned out to be Minnijean Brown, one of the Little Rock Nine. This

extraordinary woman was one of the first nine African-American students to ever

integrate a public high school.  And here she was, offering me tissues. Seeing me

crying, she sat down right next to me without a word giving me a huge hug and

holding me like my mother or grandmother would, tight and safe.  I cried and cried

in her arms.  At one point I quieted down and turned to look up at her, just to thank

her I guess, and saw that she had been crying with me.  Our eyes locked, and I didn’t

have to say anything - that look meant so much more than words.

That night was the first night I began to let myself off the hook and realize that it

wasn’t my fault.  Sharing their skin color doesn’t mean I share their crimes.

Minnijean helped me to see this.

Looking back I can hardly believe it.  Minnijean Brown.  Spunky, fun,

gorgeous, wise Minnijean, who had to put up with the terrible

cruelty of her white classmates, comforted me – a white teenager

who probably looked exactly like her past tormenters.  But she didn’t

see any distinction between her skin color and mine.  She harbored

no hate for me or for white people in general, despite the horrific

things that white people and white children had done to her.

Minnijean saw me as a fellow human – a fellow woman – who was hurting.  Acting

with compassion, she cried with me and comforted me.  My pain was her pain, and –

in that look that was too deep for words – my hope was her hope.

It was experiences like this one that made Sojourn to the Past such

an incredible journey.  I can honestly say that because I attended

this trip, not only did I gain a deep understanding of the Civil

Rights Movement, but I grew as a compassionate human being,

and especially as a woman of great heart and right conscience.

Had I not gone on Sojourn, I would not be the woman I am today.

Arianna , Los Angeles, CA