As we celebrate Rosa Parks’ 100th birthday with a beautiful new stamp, two distinct memories about hercome to mind. One makes me smile. The other makes me proud.
The first memory takes me back many years to my days at Smith College when I had the opportunity to spend time with Mrs. Parks during her visit to the school. The Black Students Alliancehosted an event for Mrs. Parks and, as BSA president, I met her and her companion, Elaine Steele, at the airport, drove them back to campus and helped Mrs. Parks get settled in her room. When I returned to fetch her for the dinner and program that evening, Mrs. Parks was dressed and ready to go but asked me to help her pin her long hair back into a bun. She watched in the mirror, handed me the hairpins one by one and gently gave me direction as I tried not to fumble or poke her scalp or do anything else stupid (all the while thinking “I cannot believe I’m doing Rosa Parks’ hair!”). When we were done, she patted her hair approvingly and said I had done it “just right.”
The rest of the evening, I prayed that her hair would not tumble out of that bun, but it stayed put.
After the event that night, Mrs. Parks sat with my classmates and me for several hours, although she must have been very tired, answering our questions and asking us about ourselves, our families and our studies. The next day, I took her and Mrs. Steele back to the airport. As we waited for the flight, Mrs. Steele and I were appalled that some young adults, noting that she was getting the VIP treatment, wanted to know who Mrs. Parks was. I wanted to scold them, but Mrs. Parks smiled gently and said it didn’t matter. Before she headed for the gate, she gave me hug, let me kiss her on the cheek and thanked me for “being so kind to an old lady.”
When she died 25 years later, I attended the service in the Capitol Rotunda that preceded her lying in honor. President and Mrs. Bush arrived and quietly waited with the rest of us for about 20 minutes. There was something strange about the scene – and then I realized what was so odd. As an old presidential advance person I know that the President rarely ever waits for anyone. Yet here stood the President of the United States – in an act of extraordinary grace and tribute – waiting for Rosa Parks, nearly 50 years to the day that she was hauled off of that bus for refusing to give up her seat.
“To some, the quiet tributes in the Rotunda seemed like a long way from that December day in Montgomery,” I wrote in the State of Black America 2006. “But it was America, not Rosa Parks, that had traversed history’s long and rocky road. Throughout her life, she remained what she was in 1955—a quiet, dignified, respected and respectful woman …
“Rosa Parks was a truly remarkable woman. But she was remarkable not because she was bigger than life. Rosa Parks was a quiet woman who had the courage to say “no” to injustice. When she said ‘no’ to the bus driver, she said, ‘yes’ we can and must all be treated with decency and fairness. When she said no to degradation, humiliation and second-class treatment, Rosa Parks helped America save itself. That’s reason enough to honor her.”
And now, seven years after the President stood in silent tribute to her, 57 years after her arrest, and 100 years after her birth, America is honoring Rosa Parks with a beautiful postage stamp that captures this lovely, soft-spoken, sweet, courageous woman who stood up to injustice and sat down with young people who wanted to make a difference. She showed us all what it means to stand tall, even when just sitting still.
Happy Birthday, Rosa Parks.