As the 2030s approach, many of the pioneers of the Civil Rights Movement will be near their early to mid 80s, making it imperative for the succeeding generations to create living archives of their experiences. 

Those of the Civil Rights Movement alive today belong to the Baby Boomer (1946-1964) or Silent Generation (1928-1945). The “Silent Generation” is so called as those brought up in this time understood the expectation that “children are to be seen, not to be heard.” Those born on the cusp of that generation, however, would soon be encouraged to elevate their voices as the young leaders on the frontlines of the Civil Rights era. 

On Tuesday, Feb. 17, beloved reverend, civil rights leader, and two-time presidential candidate Jesse Jackson passed away at 84 years old. Jackson, a student at the University of North Carolina A&T in 1960, got his first start in activism after joining the famous “sit-ins” at store lunch counters in the city of Greensboro.

Organized by a group of Black students, this form of passive resistance gained popularity in other cities, succeeding in prompting owners to abolish segregation on store grounds. Jackson later worked under Dr. Martin Luther King Jr, who initially dispatched him to Chicago to oversee Operation Breadbasket — a campaign centered on economic justice and increased Black representation in the workforce.

Reshaping corporate culture to better reflect the values of equity and inclusion remained one of the reverend’s key interests throughout his career in activism. 

Another notable aspect of Jackson’s legacy is the way he trained the next generation of activists and civil servants. Former First Lady Michelle Obama learned about political organizing at the Jacksons’ kitchen table as a teenager.

She later said that Jackson’s presidential run in 1984, and later, 1988, was the inspiration behind her later campaign for elected office with her husband and former President Barack Obama. 

Around the time Jackson had moved to the forefront as a leader during the peak years of the movement, my grandma, Mary Bethel Moss, was a college student and a blooming activist. 

Born in September 1945 in Danville, Virginia, she moved north to D.C. to attend the prestigious HBCU, Howard University, seeking a degree in law. During her years there, Moss reported taking on multiple jobs to pay tuition. Amid struggles, she held onto her self-worth, faith, and the aphorisms of dignity and wisdom her late mother had raised her upon. 

Moss, who would have graduated between 1966 and 1967, holds a law degree from Howard. Her later involvement in social work and advocacy on behalf of underprivileged families was driven by one desire: “to help my people,” as she recounts.

In 1963, when she would have finished her freshman year of college, The March on Washington was held, drawing esteemed speakers and participants from around the country to demand voting rights, equal employment opportunities and the end of segregation.

Moss and her sister, Maxine, participated in the march that August, likely only a few miles from Howard’s campus facilities. Decades later, the expression in Moss’s eyes shifts between sadness, pride and joy as she relates memories of a living past. 

Like Jackson’s story, Moss’s illustrates the beautiful cycle of youth leaders inspired by generations past, who then become inspirations to those of the future. In all these personal histories of Black elders are narratives of grit, sacrifice and gains that trace back to a second revolution in America. It is one that needs to be documented, honored and lived.

“Those Who Saw The Sun,” a book by author Jaha Nailah Avery that debuted in 2023, offers us a blueprint for recording personal histories. 

It can all start with a conversation.

“Those Who Saw The Sun” features the interview-based oral histories of ten Black seniors who grew up in the American South. The questions wrap around their memories of life during the Jim-Crow era, unique paths and opinions about the achievability of Dr. King’s dream. The book is titled as such because it is the stories of those who witnessed the dawn of a movement and prepared its stage for the latter. 

These stories from another time — whether in an interview or journal, told at the pulpit of a ceremony or the kitchen table — brim with wisdom and heart for the ages.