When I first heard that Congressman John Lewis was coming to speak at our panel here on campus, my first thought was how much I didn't know about him. I knew he was a Congressman and I knew he was involved in the civil rights movement. That's about it. So when I attended this panel, I was surprised at how much I really didn't know about him and his history. I didn't know that as a college student, he became the chairman of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee. I didn't know that along with De. Martin Luther King Jr, he marched across the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, Alabama, not once or twice, but three times to advocate for black women rights. I didn't know that he became one of the big six leaders of the civil rights movement. And I didn't know that he was arrested more than 40 times innocently, beaten within an inch of his life on more than one occasion. I didn't know that a man who accomplishes, protests, fights, and bleeds for his country would have so much to teach me. Teaching about leadership, community, and how to act in the face of oppression all in one sitting. Congressman Lewis has devoted his entire life to help build America into what he called quote the beloved community. When he was elected to Atlantic City Council, he promoted neighborhood sustainability and ethics in government. He advocated that those in the community must not only be willing to serve, they must also be trustworthy. It's because of him that we in the community hold our representatives accountable for their actions and ask them to step down once they do wrong against us. We advocate for parks, gardens, businesses, the things that keep a community thriving. And when speaking about the diversity of the American community, the Congressman said, quote, all our mothers and fathers came on different ships, but we're all in the same boat now. We must learn to live together. It's these words that allow people like my grandparents, who are of Mexican heritage, to feel welcome and wanted in our small town, that we welcome people of different beliefs, colors, lifestyles into our neighborhoods. Congressman Lewis embodies leadership and he has taught us what it takes to become leaders. As a young boy he would listen to the radio for hours, hearing the preaching of Reverend Martin Luther King, day after day, soaking in his wisdom. And that young boy would grow up to become one of the greatest civil rights leaders of our time. He taught us that to become great leaders, we must learn from great leaders. We must walk in their steps. His personally organized sit-ins at Fisk University of actually letting a young African-American college student, to become the chairman of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee. He taught us that taking that first step, no matter what age you start, is what puts you in a leadership position. And he marched on Selma to advocate for black voting rights. But on that first attempt, instead of marching toward change and toward freedom, he marched towards a setback. He was beaten, bloody, arrested an innocent man, on the day we tragically refer to as Bloody Sunday. Yet on that third attempt, two weeks later, John Lewis, along with 3,000 protesters, successfully made the march from Selma to the Alabama State Capitol building unimpeded. And then won the attention of President Johnson and Congress to pass the Voting Rights Act of 1965. He taught us that those first steps we take in leadership are often the most difficult. But they are also the most rewarding as well. Finally, he's taught us to forget in the face of our process, and in the face of our opposition we must learn to love. The last question we heard in our panel, this from a student who wanted to know what she had to do so that those who protest for equality feel legitimate, feel like they were being hurt, asking what do we do when we're faced with someone who doesn't want the best for us? That's when the Congressman responded with this story. The story about how he was on a bus, protesting with a group of students for black rights when they came to a rest station. And at that rest station was a group of men, armed, waiting for them. And when they exited the bus, John Lewis and his friends were struck, beaten, one hit after another. And it wasn't long before John Lewis passed out in a pool of his own blood. Fast forward to a later time when John Lewis became Congressman Lewis. One afternoon, he received a couple of visitors in his office, a man with a son, both of whom he did not recognize. The man introduced himself as one of the men who had struck him that night at the bus station, one of the men who had beaten him. Now the man had come to apologize for the beating of Lewis and his friends. And he reached out his hand, hoping for a handshake, for forgiveness. Now the congressman had been beaten just because of a want, a need, to be treated as an equal in this country. So when he was faced with his oppressors, he had the opportunity to seek justice, and rightly so. But the kind of justice the Congressman sought wasn't a criminal sentence or public ridicule. The Congressman chose to do something different. Congressman didn't shake the man's hand, but he didn't deny the hand shake and send him out of his office either. Instead, Congressman Lewis embraced the man and forgave him. And they ended up meeting with each other four more times after that. The Congressman forgave, relentlessly and unconditionally. A man who had been beaten, arrested, fought an uphill battle for most of his life, chose to forgive his enemy. He chose to fight, fight valiantly a war on hate by choosing to end the war. That was the type of justice the congressman sought. And if a man who went through such a horrific experience can forgive like that in the face of his oppressor, then so could we. And so must we. Congressman Lewis ended this story by stating that, quote, people have the possibility to change the world. We can never give up on anyone. Keep working, keep talking. Anyone can change the world. Congressman, we thank you that have not given up on this nation. So that we can create change. Thank you. >> [APPLAUSE] [MUSIC]
