The Bus Seats of 2017: The Value of Rosa Parks as a Role Model for Contemporary Times
[Written by Connor for International Women's Month]
The civil rights movement, as with most historical social movements, is one predominately dominated by male icons and the voices of men. Indeed, from Martin Luther King to Malcolm X, most of its associated champions are predominantly of one gender. Yet, despite being ‘the most effective and lasting voices of the civil rights revolution’ these advocates of equality are, in some distinct and remarkable ways, dwarfed by one woman.[1] Standing defiantly among the male giants of the civil rights movement, Rosa Parks can be argued to be the more interesting, inspirational and potentially more powerful figure of all.
It is not necessarily within the historicity of her actions that we find the Mother of the Freedom Movement to be so uniquely inspiring, but in her iconography and image. That is, it is not the detailed historical truth of her actions which enriches her as a truly relevant role model for modern times but what we take from that history. That said, the events themselves are an inspiring example of dignity. But as a symbol of simplistic defiance and virtue, overcoming more barriers than most and through the most uncomplicated of acts, Parks is a much-needed exemplar for today.
Unquestionably, men like King, Malcolm and Abernathy are more charismatic figures of inspiration, however this is exactly why one might reject them in favour of Parks. Indeed, taking the example of Martin Luther King we can see his contributions to civil rights are nothing short of legendary, having been embedded into the discourses of Western culture. From the naming of streets and schools to intellectual admiration and idolisation, liberal society exonerates King and his efforts as culturally iconic.[2] Yet his skills as an inspirational orator (supplemented by a former career as a Baptist minister with ‘extensive theological and philosophical training’) seem somewhat at odds with common achievability.[3]Though most of us may well have dreams, managing to get a rally of 250,000 to listen to them is another thing entirely. This refers of course to King’s famous “I have a dream” speech, during the 1963 March on Washington. Not all of us can be such public and enigmatic symbols of freedom, hope and protest. It is often the case that political apathy is argued from the grounds of a lack of stature or experience. Testimony to this is the classic remark of resignation, so often justified by the words “I can’t make a difference” or “who am I to change the world?”. Whether it be a question of gender, race or class, many of us are defeatist or at least feel powerlessly constrained. Not to mention an evident ‘negative correlation between general health and political participation’ coupled with a rise of mental health issues in the Western World.[4] Stuart Fox notes that Millennials, as a generation, are politically alienated ‘from the processes and institutions of Western democracy’.[5] This is evidenced by studies such as Ayesha Sarfaraz’s work in Political Interest and Apathy among University Students, which found that apathy and disinterest is principally characterised by helplessness, pessimism and the feeling ‘their efforts will be fruitless’.[6] In short, people are disinterested in the world of politics, often owing to a personal lack of charisma or political usefulness; a remedy to which can be found in Parks’ image.
The likes of King, while dispelling these societal oppressions are still partially, inadvertently testimony to its benefits. Our example of King for instance was a well-connected church minister, a male one at that and of proportionally relative wealth to the more unlikely seamstress, whose livelihood and job-security hung on her dignity.[7] It is true of course that many other activists were from the lowest of social classes, notably Malcolm X who came from a background of distinct poverty and crime. Yet it was subsequent to Malcolm's rise from these circumstances that he became a national figure, predominantly through his fiery oratory skills and the support of the Nation of Islam, for which he was its national spokesman. Put simply, the things we associate with King, Malcolm and others – their rallies, speeches and revolutionary legislative changes involve their proactive involvement across a holistic campaign, as opposed to a singular inspiring example that relates to every day experience. So what Parks offers in contrast, is something much more relatable, which moves away from its associated systemic and legalistic battles or rallies and speeches and lets us prize a simpler human moment.
Now, we must be clear here as, veritably, when we examine the details, the image of Parks’ defiance and the actuality of her actions are quite distinct. Though the historical truth of her acts are far from detrimental to the case for her being a role model, in examination of them, one misses the romanticised imagery. We can see that Parks’ involvement in the finer political arguments for instance is, in reality, an intricate and engaged affair in contrast to her cultural imagery. Emilye Crosby even writes critically of this and argues that her political work is largely ignored as she remains historically trapped by her status as an ‘inspiring icon’.[8] From a historical point of view in fact, were it not for this political engagement as well as her prior male connections, their intervention and her personal charisma we would not have the collective memory of our great exemplary moment.[9] She was also not the first person, or woman for that matter, to resist bus segregation, with Irene Morgan and Sarah Louise Keys, amongst others, attempting this before. So we can say that history, while not at odds with this image of the “lonely and brave” female figure, also seems to dampen its potential impact. Yet history also appears to be in favour of our conceptual reasons for our role model. That is, Parks can be seen to have a catalytic role in the civil rights movement, (albeit partially through the intervention of men) with the ultimately successful Montgomery bus boycott. And were it not for this attractive conceptual imagery, her male support might not have occurred, with her male benefactors of King and Abernathy evidently recognising her appeal as an icon and building upon it in their campaigning.[10] But history aside, it can be argued that Rosa Park’s true inspirational qualities come from what she can show us in the here and now, about ourselves.
In contemporary times, we face not only the very same themes of racial segregation, but wider objectification and the complacency which ensures its habitual practice. Some modern examples include the discriminatory rhetoric surrounding immigrants and refugees, not to mention ongoing segregation of the exact kind that Parks challenged; still extant in America today. Any given moment in which we are encouraged to objectify the other or the self and perceive them in relation to anything less than with full humanity we stand in contrast to Parks. Now that we are all on bus seats, metaphorically that is, Parks shows us that the simplest of acts and most typically unsuspecting of people can change a world for the better. More than her more politically associated counterparts, Parks represents the everyman and their power in this world… well everywoman that is. This view of Parks is also not simply conjecture and anecdotally grounded, with various authors noting the imagery surrounding her. Fleckenstein for instance, notes that graphic imagery such as that of the Montgomery bus seat can inspire action and encourage us to make sense of the world as a form of public communication.[11] After all, we would see more pictures of her battling across courtrooms or amassing crowds, as she did, if this advocated view of Parks were not already firmly established in the way that we currently perceive conversations about civil rights. This is the reason we are drawn to the image of the woman on the bus so emotively.
Another stirring reason for Parks’ necessity as a role model is one that is the subject of many modern feminist writings. That is the vivid lack of female role models. To take but a few examples to illustrate this, in her work Living Dolls: The Return of Sexism Natasha Walters argues that we are currently offered a narrow and artificial view of femininity. For Walters, while past egalitarian movements may have expanded the opportunities of women, their aspirations often fail to reach beyond being objectified; airbrushed and hollowed to a tool for male pleasure. Walters argues from a wealth of personal research that women are encouraged to destroy their identity and deny their ‘full human potential’.[12] Supported by modern journalism and media, Walters view of a lack of vitality and dignity in female celebrities seemingly represents reality. Far from allowing herself to be objectified, Parks stands in testimony to the contrary and works to end her objectification, emancipating herself and others. As other writers have commonly pointed out, the lack of ethnic and working class role models is also still a societal reality, just as it was in Park’ time.[13] Breaking down all three of these walls to be prized as a celebrated model of human actuality gives us an idea that offers a unique power in a disenchanted age.
In this sense, though the great male icons of civil rights may have their accolades, in this dimension, they can never truly touch Rosa Parks. Though others may be of greater historical significance, Parks as both a female source of inspiration and her act of ordinary virtue offers a unique iconography and symbolism. Parks shows us forthright that it is not singularly the wealthy, masculine and connected hands that determine the fate of the other and ripple the waters of history. Not only did this woman overcome three social barriers simultaneously to timelessly champion the most noble of causes at great personal risk but she did so sitting down. As such her image pertinently reminds us that not all of us need to be in affluent or elite positions to positively impact the world and people around us and stand up for what’s right; sometimes we can do this by simply by sitting down.
[1] David Howard-Pitney, Martin Luther king Jr. Malcom X and the Civil Rights Struggle of the 1950s and 1960s: A Brief History With Documents (New York: Bedford, 2004) p. vii
[2] David Bobbitt, The Rhetoric of Redemption: Kenneth Burke's Redemption Drama and Martin Luther King, Jr. 's 'I Have a Dream' Speech (Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield, 2007) p. 123
[3] Howard-Pitney, p. vii
[4] Christopher Ojeda, The Pennsylvania State University, ‘Depression and political Participation’, Social Science Quarterly, November 1 2015, p. 1229
[5] Stuart Fox, ‘Apathy, alienation and young people : the political engagement of British millennials’, University of Nottingham, 2015, Abstract
[6] Ayesha Sarfaraz, Shehla Ahmed, Lahore Ayesha, Khalid M. Asir Ajmal, ‘Reasons for Political Interest and Apathy among University Students: A Qualitative Study’, Pakistan Journal of Social and Clinical Psychology, June 1 2012 p. 62
[7] Keith Suter, 50 Things You Want to Know about World Issues: But Were Too Afraid to Ask (Sydney: Penguin Random House Australia, 2011) p. 336
US Congress, Congressional Record, V. 151, PT. 17, October 7 to 26, 2005 (Washington: Government Printing Office, 2010)
[8] Emilye Crosby, Civil Rights History from the Ground Up: Local Struggles, a National Movement (Georgia: University of Georgia Press, 2011) p. 433
[9] Kathleen Kudlinski, Rosa Parks (New York: Simon and Schuster, 2001) p. 191
[10] Jeanne Theoharis, The Rebellious Life of Mrs. Rosa Parks (Boston: Beacon Press, 2005) p. 84
[11] Kristie S. Fleckenstein, Vision, Rhetoric, and Social Action in the Composition Classroom (Illinois, SIU Press, 2009) p. 9
[12] Natasha Walters, Living Dolls: The Return of Sexism (St Ives: Virago Press, 2010) p. 232
[13] William A. Kelso, Poverty and the Underclass: Changing Perceptions of the Poor in America (New York: NYU Press, 1994) p. 172
Graham Paton, The Telegraph, Working Class Boys Let Down by 'Lack of Male Role Models’, 31 Mar 2010 http://www.telegraph.co.uk/education/educationnews/7538872/Working-class-boys-let-down-by-lack-of-male-role-models.html [Accessed 24 March 2017]
It is not necessarily within the historicity of her actions that we find the Mother of the Freedom Movement to be so uniquely inspiring, but in her iconography and image. That is, it is not the detailed historical truth of her actions which enriches her as a truly relevant role model for modern times but what we take from that history. That said, the events themselves are an inspiring example of dignity. But as a symbol of simplistic defiance and virtue, overcoming more barriers than most and through the most uncomplicated of acts, Parks is a much-needed exemplar for today.
Unquestionably, men like King, Malcolm and Abernathy are more charismatic figures of inspiration, however this is exactly why one might reject them in favour of Parks. Indeed, taking the example of Martin Luther King we can see his contributions to civil rights are nothing short of legendary, having been embedded into the discourses of Western culture. From the naming of streets and schools to intellectual admiration and idolisation, liberal society exonerates King and his efforts as culturally iconic.[2] Yet his skills as an inspirational orator (supplemented by a former career as a Baptist minister with ‘extensive theological and philosophical training’) seem somewhat at odds with common achievability.[3]Though most of us may well have dreams, managing to get a rally of 250,000 to listen to them is another thing entirely. This refers of course to King’s famous “I have a dream” speech, during the 1963 March on Washington. Not all of us can be such public and enigmatic symbols of freedom, hope and protest. It is often the case that political apathy is argued from the grounds of a lack of stature or experience. Testimony to this is the classic remark of resignation, so often justified by the words “I can’t make a difference” or “who am I to change the world?”. Whether it be a question of gender, race or class, many of us are defeatist or at least feel powerlessly constrained. Not to mention an evident ‘negative correlation between general health and political participation’ coupled with a rise of mental health issues in the Western World.[4] Stuart Fox notes that Millennials, as a generation, are politically alienated ‘from the processes and institutions of Western democracy’.[5] This is evidenced by studies such as Ayesha Sarfaraz’s work in Political Interest and Apathy among University Students, which found that apathy and disinterest is principally characterised by helplessness, pessimism and the feeling ‘their efforts will be fruitless’.[6] In short, people are disinterested in the world of politics, often owing to a personal lack of charisma or political usefulness; a remedy to which can be found in Parks’ image.
The likes of King, while dispelling these societal oppressions are still partially, inadvertently testimony to its benefits. Our example of King for instance was a well-connected church minister, a male one at that and of proportionally relative wealth to the more unlikely seamstress, whose livelihood and job-security hung on her dignity.[7] It is true of course that many other activists were from the lowest of social classes, notably Malcolm X who came from a background of distinct poverty and crime. Yet it was subsequent to Malcolm's rise from these circumstances that he became a national figure, predominantly through his fiery oratory skills and the support of the Nation of Islam, for which he was its national spokesman. Put simply, the things we associate with King, Malcolm and others – their rallies, speeches and revolutionary legislative changes involve their proactive involvement across a holistic campaign, as opposed to a singular inspiring example that relates to every day experience. So what Parks offers in contrast, is something much more relatable, which moves away from its associated systemic and legalistic battles or rallies and speeches and lets us prize a simpler human moment.
Now, we must be clear here as, veritably, when we examine the details, the image of Parks’ defiance and the actuality of her actions are quite distinct. Though the historical truth of her acts are far from detrimental to the case for her being a role model, in examination of them, one misses the romanticised imagery. We can see that Parks’ involvement in the finer political arguments for instance is, in reality, an intricate and engaged affair in contrast to her cultural imagery. Emilye Crosby even writes critically of this and argues that her political work is largely ignored as she remains historically trapped by her status as an ‘inspiring icon’.[8] From a historical point of view in fact, were it not for this political engagement as well as her prior male connections, their intervention and her personal charisma we would not have the collective memory of our great exemplary moment.[9] She was also not the first person, or woman for that matter, to resist bus segregation, with Irene Morgan and Sarah Louise Keys, amongst others, attempting this before. So we can say that history, while not at odds with this image of the “lonely and brave” female figure, also seems to dampen its potential impact. Yet history also appears to be in favour of our conceptual reasons for our role model. That is, Parks can be seen to have a catalytic role in the civil rights movement, (albeit partially through the intervention of men) with the ultimately successful Montgomery bus boycott. And were it not for this attractive conceptual imagery, her male support might not have occurred, with her male benefactors of King and Abernathy evidently recognising her appeal as an icon and building upon it in their campaigning.[10] But history aside, it can be argued that Rosa Park’s true inspirational qualities come from what she can show us in the here and now, about ourselves.
In contemporary times, we face not only the very same themes of racial segregation, but wider objectification and the complacency which ensures its habitual practice. Some modern examples include the discriminatory rhetoric surrounding immigrants and refugees, not to mention ongoing segregation of the exact kind that Parks challenged; still extant in America today. Any given moment in which we are encouraged to objectify the other or the self and perceive them in relation to anything less than with full humanity we stand in contrast to Parks. Now that we are all on bus seats, metaphorically that is, Parks shows us that the simplest of acts and most typically unsuspecting of people can change a world for the better. More than her more politically associated counterparts, Parks represents the everyman and their power in this world… well everywoman that is. This view of Parks is also not simply conjecture and anecdotally grounded, with various authors noting the imagery surrounding her. Fleckenstein for instance, notes that graphic imagery such as that of the Montgomery bus seat can inspire action and encourage us to make sense of the world as a form of public communication.[11] After all, we would see more pictures of her battling across courtrooms or amassing crowds, as she did, if this advocated view of Parks were not already firmly established in the way that we currently perceive conversations about civil rights. This is the reason we are drawn to the image of the woman on the bus so emotively.
Another stirring reason for Parks’ necessity as a role model is one that is the subject of many modern feminist writings. That is the vivid lack of female role models. To take but a few examples to illustrate this, in her work Living Dolls: The Return of Sexism Natasha Walters argues that we are currently offered a narrow and artificial view of femininity. For Walters, while past egalitarian movements may have expanded the opportunities of women, their aspirations often fail to reach beyond being objectified; airbrushed and hollowed to a tool for male pleasure. Walters argues from a wealth of personal research that women are encouraged to destroy their identity and deny their ‘full human potential’.[12] Supported by modern journalism and media, Walters view of a lack of vitality and dignity in female celebrities seemingly represents reality. Far from allowing herself to be objectified, Parks stands in testimony to the contrary and works to end her objectification, emancipating herself and others. As other writers have commonly pointed out, the lack of ethnic and working class role models is also still a societal reality, just as it was in Park’ time.[13] Breaking down all three of these walls to be prized as a celebrated model of human actuality gives us an idea that offers a unique power in a disenchanted age.
In this sense, though the great male icons of civil rights may have their accolades, in this dimension, they can never truly touch Rosa Parks. Though others may be of greater historical significance, Parks as both a female source of inspiration and her act of ordinary virtue offers a unique iconography and symbolism. Parks shows us forthright that it is not singularly the wealthy, masculine and connected hands that determine the fate of the other and ripple the waters of history. Not only did this woman overcome three social barriers simultaneously to timelessly champion the most noble of causes at great personal risk but she did so sitting down. As such her image pertinently reminds us that not all of us need to be in affluent or elite positions to positively impact the world and people around us and stand up for what’s right; sometimes we can do this by simply by sitting down.
[1] David Howard-Pitney, Martin Luther king Jr. Malcom X and the Civil Rights Struggle of the 1950s and 1960s: A Brief History With Documents (New York: Bedford, 2004) p. vii
[2] David Bobbitt, The Rhetoric of Redemption: Kenneth Burke's Redemption Drama and Martin Luther King, Jr. 's 'I Have a Dream' Speech (Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield, 2007) p. 123
[3] Howard-Pitney, p. vii
[4] Christopher Ojeda, The Pennsylvania State University, ‘Depression and political Participation’, Social Science Quarterly, November 1 2015, p. 1229
[5] Stuart Fox, ‘Apathy, alienation and young people : the political engagement of British millennials’, University of Nottingham, 2015, Abstract
[6] Ayesha Sarfaraz, Shehla Ahmed, Lahore Ayesha, Khalid M. Asir Ajmal, ‘Reasons for Political Interest and Apathy among University Students: A Qualitative Study’, Pakistan Journal of Social and Clinical Psychology, June 1 2012 p. 62
[7] Keith Suter, 50 Things You Want to Know about World Issues: But Were Too Afraid to Ask (Sydney: Penguin Random House Australia, 2011) p. 336
US Congress, Congressional Record, V. 151, PT. 17, October 7 to 26, 2005 (Washington: Government Printing Office, 2010)
[8] Emilye Crosby, Civil Rights History from the Ground Up: Local Struggles, a National Movement (Georgia: University of Georgia Press, 2011) p. 433
[9] Kathleen Kudlinski, Rosa Parks (New York: Simon and Schuster, 2001) p. 191
[10] Jeanne Theoharis, The Rebellious Life of Mrs. Rosa Parks (Boston: Beacon Press, 2005) p. 84
[11] Kristie S. Fleckenstein, Vision, Rhetoric, and Social Action in the Composition Classroom (Illinois, SIU Press, 2009) p. 9
[12] Natasha Walters, Living Dolls: The Return of Sexism (St Ives: Virago Press, 2010) p. 232
[13] William A. Kelso, Poverty and the Underclass: Changing Perceptions of the Poor in America (New York: NYU Press, 1994) p. 172
Graham Paton, The Telegraph, Working Class Boys Let Down by 'Lack of Male Role Models’, 31 Mar 2010 http://www.telegraph.co.uk/education/educationnews/7538872/Working-class-boys-let-down-by-lack-of-male-role-models.html [Accessed 24 March 2017]