What kind of adults lead a school where the accepted practice is to mock and denigrate the children of neighboring communities?

They officially encourage their students to show contempt for other local schools with their “Nerdy Knights,” “Wimpy Willits,” and “Blue and White Bum” days in which teens are encouraged to wear the colors of their rivals and then humiliate them through ugly stereotyping.

As a teacher at Lower Lake High School, I bitterly resent the gross mischaracterization of my students and our community.

As the coach of the Academic Decathlon, I teach my hearty band of happy learners the important concept of the worthy opponent.

We respect the students at other schools and realize that they are just like us. We practice excellent sportsmanship and applaud winning students at our county competition, without regard for which school they represent.

Should we not be accorded the same courtesy?

Middletown High School has seriously damaged community relations. The students, parents, faculty and alumni of Lower Lake are insulted and upset.

This would be bad enough it were simply some thoughtless student prank, but this was an officially-sanctioned activity, encouraged by supposed adults in their administration. We do not deserve their scorn.

Middletown has violated every standard of common decency that they espouse on their district Web site.

How ironic it is to read their statements, such as these little nuggets: “We foster respectful and positive social interactions. We do not tolerate acts of prejudice and discrimination.”

Really? What hypocrisy.

An apology is not enough. They need to consider what kind of norms they pass on to children and make systemic changes in their culture of ridicule.

Middletown High School – you do not build yourselves up by attacking your neighbors. Making fun of the other children in Lake County makes you a bully at the institutional level. Focus on tolerance, understanding and sportsmanship.

Take a good, long look at yourselves and leave the rest of us alone.

Nancy Harby is a teacher at Lower Lake High School in Lower Lake, Calif.

Birmingham City Jail

April 16, 1963

My dear Fellow Clergymen,

While confined here in the Birmingham City Jail, I came across your recent statement calling our present activities "unwise and untimely." Seldom, if ever, do I pause to answer criticism of my work and ideas. If I sought to answer all the criticisms that cross my desk, my secretaries would be engaged in little else in the course of the day and I would have no time for constructive work. But since I feel that you are men of genuine goodwill and your criticisms are sincerely set forth, I would like to answer your statement in what I hope will be patient and reasonable terms.

I think I should give the reason for my being in Birmingham, since you have been influenced by the argument of "outsiders coming in." I have the honor of serving as president of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, an organization operating in every Southern state with headquarters in Atlanta, Georgia. We have some eighty-five affiliate organizations all across the South – one being the Alabama Christian Movement for Human Rights. Whenever necessary and possible we share staff, educational, and financial resources with our affiliates. Several months ago our local affiliate here in Birmingham invited us to be on call to engage in a nonviolent direct action program if such were deemed necessary. We readily consented and when the hour came we lived up to our promises. So I am here, along with several members of my staff, because we were invited here. I am here because I have basic organizational ties here. Beyond this, I am in Birmingham because injustice is here. Just as the eighth century prophets left their little villages and carried their "thus saith the Lord" far beyond the boundaries of their home town, and just as the Apostle Paul left his little village of Tarsus and carried the gospel of Jesus Christ to practically every hamlet and city of the Graeco-Roman world, I too am compelled to carry the gospel of freedom beyond my particular home town. Like Paul, I must constantly respond to the Macedonian call for aid.

Moreover, I am cognizant of the interrelatedness of all communities and states. I cannot sit idly by in Atlanta and not be concerned about what happens in Birmingham. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly. Never again can we afford to live with the narrow, provincial "outside agitator" idea. Anyone who lives inside the United States can never be considered an outsider anywhere in this country.

You deplore the demonstrations that are presently taking place in Birmingham. But I am sorry that your statement did not express a similar concern for the conditions that brought the demonstrations into being. I am sure that each of you would want to go beyond the superficial social analyst who looks merely at effects, and does not grapple with underlying causes. I would not hesitate to say that it is unfortunate that so-called demonstrations are taking place in Birmingham at this time, but I would say in more emphatic terms that it is even more unfortunate that the white power structure of this city left the Negro community with no other alternative.

In any nonviolent campaign there are four basic steps: (1) Collection of the facts to determine whether injustices are alive; (2) Negotiation; (3) Self-purification; and (4) Direct action. We have gone through all of these steps in Birmingham. There can be no gainsaying of the fact that racial injustice engulfs this community. Birmingham is probably the most thoroughly segregated city in the United States. Its ugly record of police brutality is known in every section of this country. Its unjust treatment of Negroes in the courts is a notorious reality. There have been more unsolved bombings of Negro homes and churches in Birmingham than any city in this nation. These are the hard, brutal, and unbelievable facts. On the basis of these conditions Negro leaders sought to negotiate with the city fathers. But the political leaders consistently refused to engage in good faith negotiation.

Then came the opportunity last September to talk with some of the leaders of the economic community. In these negotiating sessions certain promises were made by the merchants – such as the promise to remove the humiliating racial signs from the stores. On the basis of these promises Rev. Shuttlesworth and the leaders of the Alabama Christian Movement for Human Rights agreed to call a moratorium on any type of demonstrations. As the weeks and months unfolded we realized that we were the victims of a broken promise. The signs remained. As in so many experiences of the past we were confronted with blasted hopes, and the dark shadow of a deep disappointment settled upon us. So we had no alternative except that of preparing for direct action, whereby we would present our very bodies as a means of laying our case before the conscience of the local and national community. We were not unmindful of the difficulties involved. So we decided to go through a process of self-purification. We started having workshops on nonviolence and repeatedly asked ourselves the questions, "Are you able to accept blows without retaliating?" "Are you able to endure the ordeals of jail?"

We decided to set our direct-action program around the Easter season, realizing that with the exception of Christmas, this was the largest shopping period of the year. Knowing that a strong economic withdrawal program would be the by-product of direct action, we felt that this was the best time to bring pressure on the merchants for the needed changes. Then it occurred to us that the March election was ahead, and so we speedily decided to postpone action until after election day. When we discovered that Mr. Connor was in the run-off, we decided again to postpone action so that the demonstrations could not be used to cloud the issues. At this time we agreed to begin our nonviolent witness the day after the run-off.

This reveals that we did not move irresponsibly into direct action. We too wanted to see Mr. Connor defeated; so we went through postponement after postponement to aid in this community need. After this we felt that direct action could be delayed no longer.

You may well ask, Why direct action? Why sit-ins, marches, etc.? Isn't negotiation a better path?" You are exactly right in your call for negotiation. Indeed, this is the purpose of direct action. Nonviolent direct action seeks to create such a crisis and establish such creative tension that a community that has constantly refused to negotiate is forced to confront the issue. It seeks so to dramatize the issue that it can no longer be ignored. I just referred to the creation of tension as a part of the work of the nonviolent resister. This may sound rather shocking. But I must confess that I am not afraid of the word tension. I have earnestly worked and preached against violent tension, but there is a type of constructive nonviolent tension that is necessary for growth. Just as Socrates felt that it was necessary to create a tension in the mind so that individuals could rise from the bondage of myths and half-truths to the unfettered realm of creative analysis and objective appraisal, we must see the need of having nonviolent gadflies to create the kind of tension in society that will help men rise from the dark depths of prejudice and racism to the majestic heights of understanding and brotherhood. So the purpose of the direct action is to create a situation so crisis-packed that it will inevitably open the door to negotiation. We, therefore, concur with you in your call for negotiation. Too long has our beloved Southland been bogged down in the tragic attempt to live in monologue rather than dialogue.

One of the basic points in your statement is that our acts are untimely. Some have asked, "Why didn't you give the new administration time to act?" The only answer that I can give to this inquiry is that the new administration must be prodded about as much as the outgoing one before it acts. We will be sadly mistaken if we feel that the election of Mr. Boutwell will bring the millennium to Birmingham. While Mr. Boutwell is much more articulate and gentle than Mr. Connor, they are both segregationists dedicated to the task of maintaining the status quo. The hope I see in Mr. Boutwell is that he will be reasonable enough to see the futility of massive resistance to desegregation. But he will not see this without pressure from the devotees of civil rights. My friends, I must say to you that we have not made a single gain in civil rights without determined legal and nonviolent pressure. History is the long and tragic story of the fact that privileged groups seldom give up their privileges voluntarily. Individuals may see the moral light and voluntarily give up their unjust posture; but as Reinhold Niebuhr has reminded us, groups are more immoral than individuals.

We know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed. Frankly I have never yet engaged in a direct action movement that was "well timed," according to the timetable of those who have not suffered unduly from the disease of segregation. For years now I have heard the word "Wait!" It rings in the ear of every Negro with a piercing familiarity. This "wait" has almost always meant "never." It has been a tranquilizing thalidomide, relieving the emotional stress for a moment, only to give birth to an ill-formed infant of frustration. We must come to see with the distinguished jurist of yesterday that "justice too long delayed is justice denied." We have waited for more than three hundred and forty years for our constitutional and God-given rights. The nations of Asia and Africa are moving with jet-like speed toward the goal of political independence, and we still creep at horse and buggy pace toward the gaining of a cup of coffee at a lunch counter.

I guess it is easy for those who have never felt the stinging darts of segregation to say wait. But when you have seen vicious mobs lynch your mothers and fathers at will and drown your sisters and brothers at whim; when you have seen hate filled policemen curse, kick, brutalize, and even kill your black brothers and sisters with impunity; when you see the vast majority of your twenty million Negro brothers smothering in an air-tight cage of poverty in the midst of an affluent society; when you suddenly find your tongue twisted and your speech stammering as you seek to explain to your six-year-old daughter why she can't go to the public amusement park that has just been advertised on television, and see tears welling up in her little eyes when she is told that Funtown is closed to colored children, and see the depressing clouds of inferiority begin to form in her little mental sky, and see her begin to distort her little personality by unconsciously developing a bitterness toward white people; when you have to concoct an answer for a five-year-old son asking in agonizing pathos: "Daddy, why do white people treat colored people so mean?"; when you take a cross-country drive and find it necessary to sleep night after night in the uncomfortable corners of your automobile because no motel will accept you; when you are humiliated day in and day out by nagging signs reading "white" men and "colored"; when your first name becomes "nigger" and your middle name becomes "boy" (however old you are) and your last name becomes "John," and when your wife and mother are never given the respected title "Mrs."; when you are harried by day and haunted by night by the fact that you are a Negro, living constantly at tip-toe stance never quite knowing what to expect next, and plagued with inner fears and outer resentments; when you are forever fighting a degenerating sense of "nobodiness" – then you will understand why we find it difficult to wait. There comes a time when the cup of endurance runs over, and men are no longer willing to be plunged into an abyss of injustice where they experience the bleakness of corroding despair. I hope, sirs, you can understand our legitimate and unavoidable impatience.

You express a great deal of anxiety over our willingness to break laws. This is certainly a legitimate concern. Since we so diligently urge people to obey the Supreme Court's decision of 1954 outlawing segregation in the public schools, it is rather strange and paradoxical to find us consciously breaking laws. One may well ask: "How can you advocate breaking some laws and obeying others?" The answer is found in the fact that there are two types of laws: There are just laws and there are unjust laws. I would be the first to advocate obeying just laws. One has not only a legal but moral responsibility to obey just laws. Conversely, one has a moral responsibility to disobey unjust laws. I would agree with Saint Augustine that "An unjust law is no law at all."

Now what is the difference between the two? How does one determine when a law is just or unjust? A just law is a man-made code that squares with the moral law or the law of God. An unjust law is a code that is out of harmony with the moral law. To put it in the terms of Saint Thomas Aquinas, an unjust law is a human law that is not rooted in eternal and natural law. Any law that uplifts human personality is just. Any law that degrades human personality is unjust. All segregation statutes are unjust because segregation distorts the soul and damages the personality. It gives the segregator a false sense of superiority and the segregated a false sense of inferiority. To use the words of Martin Buber, the great Jewish philosopher, segregation substitutes an "I-it" relationship for an "I-thou" relationship, and ends up relegating persons to the status of things. So segregation is not only politically, economically, and sociologically unsound, but it is morally wrong and sinful. Paul Tillich has said that sin is separation. Isn't segregation an existential expression of man's tragic separation, an expression of his awful estrangement, his terrible sinfulness? So I can urge men to obey the1954 decision of the Supreme Court because it is morally right, and I can urge them to disobey segregation ordinances because they are morally wrong.

Let us turn to a more concrete example of just and unjust laws. An unjust law is a code that a majority inflicts on a minority that is not binding on itself. This is difference made legal. On the other hand a just law is a code that a majority compels a minority to follow that it is willing to follow itself. This is sameness made legal.

Let me give another explanation. An unjust law is a code inflicted upon a minority which that minority had no part in enacting or creating because they did not have the unhampered right to vote. Who can say that the legislature of Alabama which set up the segregation laws was democratically elected? Throughout the state of Alabama all types of conniving methods are used to prevent Negroes from becoming registered voters and there are some counties without a single Negro registered to vote despite the fact that the Negro constitutes a majority of the population. Can any law set up in such a state be considered democratically structured?

These are just a few examples of unjust and just laws. There are some instances when a law is just on its face but unjust in its application. For instance, I was arrested Friday on a charge of parading without a permit. Now there is nothing wrong with an ordinance which requires a permit for a parade, but when the ordinance is used to preserve segregation and to deny citizens the First Amendment privilege of peaceful assembly and peaceful protest, then it becomes unjust.

I hope you can see the distinction I am trying to point out. In no sense do I advocate evading or defying the law as the rabid segregationist would do. This would lead to anarchy. One who breaks an unjust law must do it openly, lovingly (not hatefully as the white mothers did in New Orleans when they were seen on television screaming "nigger, nigger, nigger") and with a willingness to accept the penalty. I submit that an individual who breaks a law that conscience tells him is unjust, and willingly accepts the penalty by staying in jail to arouse the conscience of the community over its injustice, is in reality expressing the very highest respect for law.

Of course there is nothing new about this kind of civil disobedience. It was seen sublimely in the refusal of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego to obey the laws of Nebuchadnezzar because a higher moral law was involved. It was practiced superbly by the early Christians who were willing to face hungry lions and the excruciating pain of chopping blocks, before submitting to certain unjust laws of the Roman Empire. To a degree academic freedom is a reality today because Socrates practiced civil disobedience.

We can never forget that everything Hitler did in Germany was "legal" and everything the Hungarian freedom fighters did in Hungary was "illegal." It was "illegal" to aid and comfort a Jew in Hitler's Germany. But I am sure that, if I had lived in Germany during that time, I would have aided and comforted my Jewish brothers even though it was illegal. If I lived in a communist country today where certain principles dear to the Christian faith are suppressed, I believe I would openly advocate disobeying these anti-religious laws.

I must make two honest confessions to you, my Christian and Jewish brothers. First, I must confess that over the last few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negroes' great stumbling block in the stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen's "Counciler" or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate who is more devoted to "order" than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says "I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I can't agree with your methods of direct action"; who paternalistically feels that he can set the timetable for another man's freedom; who lives by the myth of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait until a "more convenient season." Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.

I had hoped that the white moderate would understand that law and order exist for the purpose of establishing justice, and that when they fail to do this they become dangerously structured dams that block the flow of social progress. I had hoped that the white moderate would understand that the present tension in the South is merely a necessary phase of the transition from an obnoxious negative peace, where the Negro passively accepted his unjust plight, to a substance-filled positive peace, where all men will respect the dignity and worth of human personality. Actually, we who engage in nonviolent direct action are not the creators of tension. We merely bring to the surface the hidden tension that is already alive. We bring it out in the open where it can be seen and dealt with. Like a boil that can never be cured as long as it is covered up but must be opened with all its pus-flowing ugliness to the natural medicines of air and light, injustice must likewise be exposed, with all of the tension its exposing creates, to the light of human conscience and the air of national opinion before it can be cured.

In your statement you asserted that our actions, even though peaceful, must be condemned because they precipitate violence. But can this assertion be logically made? Isn't this like condemning the robbed man because his possession of money precipitated the evil act of robbery? Isn't this like condemning Socrates because his unswerving commitment to truth and his philosophical delvings precipitated the misguided popular mind to make him drink the hemlock? Isn't this like condemning Jesus because His unique God consciousness and never-ceasing devotion to His will precipitated the evil act of crucifixion? We must come to see, as federal courts have consistently affirmed, that it is immoral to urge an individual to withdraw his efforts to gain his basic constitutional rights because the quest precipitates violence. Society must protect the robbed and punish the robber.

I had also hoped that the white moderate would reject the myth of time. I received a letter this morning from a white brother in Texas which said: "All Christians know that the colored people will receive equal rights eventually, but is it possible that you are in too great of a religious hurry? It has taken Christianity almost 2,000 years to accomplish what it has. The teachings of Christ take time to come to earth." All that is said here grows out of a tragic misconception of time. It is the strangely irrational notion that there is something in the very flow of time that will inevitably cure all ills. Actually time is neutral. It can be used either destructively or constructively. I am coming to feel that the people of ill will have used time much more effectively than the people of good will. We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the vitriolic words and actions of the bad people, but for the appalling silence of the good people. We must come to see that human progress never rolls in on wheels of inevitability. It comes through the tireless efforts and persistent work of men willing to be co-workers with God, and without this hard work time itself becomes an ally of the forces of social stagnation.

We must use time creatively, and forever realize that the time is always ripe to do right. Now is the time to make real the promise of democracy, and transform our pending national elegy into a creative psalm of brotherhood. Now is the time to lift our national policy from the quicksand of racial injustice to the solid rock of human dignity.

You spoke of our activity in Birmingham as extreme. At first I was rather disappointed that fellow clergymen would see my nonviolent efforts as those of the extremist. I started thinking about the fact that I stand in the middle of two opposing forces in the Negro community. One is a force of complacency made up of Negroes who, as a result of long years of oppression, have been so completely drained of self-respect and a sense of "somebodiness" that they have adjusted to segregation, and of a few Negroes in the middle class who, because of a degree of academic and economic security, and because at points they profit by segregation, have unconsciously become insensitive to the problems of the masses. The other force is one of bitterness and hatred and comes perilously close to advocating violence. It is expressed in the various black nationalist groups that are springing up over the nation, the largest and best known being Elijah Muhammad's Muslim movement. This movement is nourished by the contemporary frustration over the continued existence of racial discrimination. It is made up of people who have lost faith in America, who have absolutely repudiated Christianity, and who have concluded that the white man is an incurable "devil." I have tried to stand between these two forces saying that we need not follow the "do-nothingism" of the complacent or the hatred and despair of the black nationalist. There is the more excellent way of love and nonviolent protest. I'm grateful to God that, through the Negro church, the dimension of nonviolence entered our struggle. If this philosophy had not emerged I am convinced that by now many streets of the South would be flowing with floods of blood. And I am further convinced that if our white brothers dismiss us as "rabble rousers" and "outside agitators" – those of us who are working through the channels of nonviolent direct action – and refuse to support our nonviolent efforts, millions of Negroes, out of frustration and despair, will seek solace and security in black-nationalist ideologies, a development that will lead inevitably to a frightening racial nightmare.

Oppressed people cannot remain oppressed forever. The urge for freedom will eventually come. This is what has happened to the American Negro. Something within has reminded him of his birthright of freedom; something without has reminded him that he can gain it. Consciously and unconsciously, he has been swept in by what the Germans call the Zeitgeist, and with his black brothers of Africa, and his brown and yellow brothers of Asia, South America, and the Caribbean, he is moving with a sense of cosmic urgency toward the promised land of racial justice. Recognizing this vital urge that has engulfed the Negro community, one should readily understand public demonstrations. The Negro has many pent-up resentments and latent frustrations. He has to get them out. So let him march sometime; let him have his prayer pilgrimages to the city hall; understand why he must have sit-ins and freedom rides. If his repressed emotions do not come out in these nonviolent ways, they will come out in ominous expressions of violence. This is not a threat; it is a fact of history. So I have not said to my people, "Get rid of your discontent." But I have tried to say that this normal and healthy discontent can be channeled through the creative outlet of nonviolent direct action. Now this approach is being dismissed as extremist. I must admit that I was initially disappointed in being so categorized.

But as I continued to think about the matter I gradually gained a bit of satisfaction from being considered an extremist. Was not Jesus an extremist in love? "Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, pray for them that despitefully use you." Was not Amos an extremist for justice – "Let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream." Was not Paul an extremist for the gospel of Jesus Christ – "I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus." Was not Martin Luther an extremist – "Here I stand; I can do none other so help me God." Was not John Bunyan an extremist – "I will stay in jail to the end of my days before I make a butchery of my conscience." Was not Abraham Lincoln an extremist – "This nation cannot survive half slave and half free." Was not Thomas Jefferson an extremist – "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal." So the question is not whether we will be extremist but what kind of extremist will we be. Will we be extremists for hate or will we be extremists for love? Will we be extremists for the preservation of injustice – or will we be extremists for the cause of justice? In that dramatic scene on Calvary's hill three men were crucified. We must never forget that all three were crucified for the same crime – the crime of extremism. Two were extremists for immorality, and thus fell below their environment. The other, Jesus Christ, was an extremist for love, truth, and goodness, and thereby rose above His environment. So, after all, maybe the South, the nation, and the world are in dire need of creative extremists.

I had hoped that the white moderate would see this. Maybe I was too optimistic. Maybe I expected too much. I guess I should have realized that few members of a race that has oppressed another race can understand or appreciate the deep groans and passionate yearnings of those that have been oppressed, and still fewer have the vision to see that injustice must be rooted out by strong, persistent, and determined action. I am thankful, however, that some of our white brothers have grasped the meaning of this social revolution and committed themselves to it. They are still all too small in quantity, but they are big in quality. Some like Ralph McGill, Lillian Smith, Harry Golden, and James Dabbs have written about our struggle in eloquent, prophetic, and understanding terms. Others have marched with us down nameless streets of the South. They have languished in filthy, roach-infested jails, suffering the abuse and brutality of angry policemen who see them as "dirty nigger lovers." They, unlike so many of their moderate brothers and sisters, have recognized the urgency of the moment and sensed the need for powerful "action" antidotes to combat the disease of segregation.

Let me rush on to mention my other disappointment. I have been so greatly disappointed with the white Church and its leadership. Of course there are some notable exceptions. I am not unmindful of the fact that each of you has taken some significant stands on this issue. I commend you, Rev. Stallings, for your Christian stand on this past Sunday, in welcoming Negroes to your worship service on a non-segregated basis. I commend the Catholic leaders of this state for integrating Spring Hill College several years ago.

But despite these notable exceptions I must honestly reiterate that I have been disappointed with the Church. I do not say that as one of those negative critics who can always find something wrong with the Church. I say it as a minister of the gospel, who loves the Church; who was nurtured in its bosom; who has been sustained by its spiritual blessings and who will remain true to it as long as the cord of life shall lengthen.

I had the strange feeling when I was suddenly catapulted into the leadership of the bus protest in Montgomery several years ago that we would have the support of the white Church. I felt that the white ministers, priests, and rabbis of the South would be some of our strongest allies. Instead, some have been outright opponents, refusing to understand the freedom movement and misrepresenting its leaders; all too many others have been more cautious than courageous and have remained silent behind the anesthetizing security of the stained glass windows.

In spite of my shattered dreams of the past, I came to Birmingham with the hope that the white religious leadership of this community would see the justice of our cause and with deep moral concern, serve as the channel through which our just grievances could get to the power structure. I had hoped that each of you would understand. But again I have been disappointed.

I have heard numerous religious leaders of the South call upon their worshippers to comply with a desegregation decision because it is the law, but I have longed to hear white ministers say follow this decree because integration is morally right and the Negro is your brother. In the midst of blatant injustices inflicted upon the Negro, I have watched white churches stand on the sideline and merely mouth pious irrelevancies and sanctimonious trivialities. In the midst of a mighty struggle to rid our nation of racial and economic injustice, I have heard so many ministers say, "Those are social issues with which the gospel has no real concern," and I have watched so many churches commit themselves to a completely other-worldly religion which made a strange distinction between body and soul, the sacred and the secular.

So here we are moving toward the exit of the twentieth century with a religious community largely adjusted to the status quo, standing as a tail-light behind other community agencies rather than a headlight leading men to higher levels of justice.

I have travelled the length and breadth of Alabama, Mississippi and all the other southern states. On sweltering summer days and crisp autumn mornings I have looked at her beautiful churches with their spires pointing heavenward. I have beheld the impressive outlay of her massive religious education buildings. Over and over again I have found myself asking: "Who worships here? Who is their God? Where were their voices when the lips of Governor Barnett dripped with words of interposition and nullification? Where were they when Governor Wallace gave the clarion call for defiance and hatred? Where were their voices of support when tired, bruised, and weary Negro men and women decided to rise from the dark dungeons of complacency to the bright hills of creative protest?"

Yes, these questions are still in my mind. In deep disappointment, I have wept over the laxity of the church. But be assured that my tears have been tears of love. There can be no deep disappointment where there is not deep love. Yes, I love the Church; I love her sacred walls. How could I do otherwise? I am in the rather unique position of being the son, the grandson, and the great-grandson of preachers. Yes, I see the Church as the body of Christ. But, oh! How we have blemished and scarred that body through social neglect and fear of being nonconformist.

There was a time when the Church was very powerful. It was during that period when the early Christians rejoiced when they were deemed worthy to suffer for what they believed. In those days the Church was not merely a thermometer that recorded the ideas and principles of popular opinion; it was a thermostat that transformed the mores of society. Wherever the early Christians entered a town the power structure got disturbed and immediately sought to convict them for being "disturbers of the peace" and "outside agitators." But they went on with the conviction that they were "a colony of heaven" and had to obey God rather than man. They were small in number but big in commitment. They were too God-intoxicated to be "astronomically intimidated." They brought an end to such ancient evils as infanticide and gladiatorial contest.

Things are different now. The contemporary Church is so often a weak, ineffectual voice with an uncertain sound. It is so often the arch-supporter of the status quo. Far from being disturbed by the presence of the Church, the power structure of the average community is consoled by the Church's silent and often vocal sanction of things as they are.

But the judgment of God is upon the Church as never before. If the Church of today does not recapture the sacrificial spirit of the early Church, it will lose its authentic ring, forfeit the loyalty of millions, and be dismissed as an irrelevant social club with no meaning for the twentieth century. I am meeting young people every day whose disappointment with the Church has risen to outright disgust.

Maybe again I have been too optimistic. Is organized religion too inextricably bound to the status quo to save our nation and the world? Maybe I must turn my faith to the inner spiritual Church, the church within the Church, as the true ecclesia and the hope of the world. But again I am thankful to God that some noble souls from the ranks of organized religion have broken loose from the paralyzing chains of conformity and joined us as active partners in the struggle for freedom. They have left their secure congregations and walked the streets of Albany, Georgia, with us. They have gone through the highways of the South on torturous rides for freedom. Yes, they have gone to jail with us. Some have been kicked out of their churches and lost the support of their bishops and fellow ministers. But they have gone with the faith that right defeated is stronger than evil triumphant. These men have been the leaven in the lump of the race. Their witness has been the spiritual salt that has preserved the true meaning of the Gospel in these troubled times. They have carved a tunnel of hope through the dark mountain of disappointment.

I hope the Church as a whole will meet the challenge of this decisive hour. But even if the Church does not come to the aid of justice, I have no despair about the future. I have no fear about the outcome of our struggle in Birmingham, even if our motives are presently misunderstood. We will reach the goal of freedom in Birmingham and all over the nation, because the goal of America is freedom. Abused and scorned though we may be, our destiny is tied up with the destiny of America. Before the pilgrims landed at Plymouth, we were here. Before the pen of Jefferson etched across the pages of history the majestic words of the Declaration of Independence, we were here. For more than two centuries our foreparents labored in this country without wages; they made cotton "king"; and they built the homes of their masters in the midst of brutal injustice and shameful humiliation – and yet out of a bottomless vitality they continued to thrive and develop. If the inexpressible cruelties of slavery could not stop us, the opposition we now face will surely fail. We will win our freedom because the sacred heritage of our nation and the eternal will of God are embodied in our echoing demands.

I must close now. But before closing I am impelled to mention one other point in your statement that troubled me profoundly. You warmly commend the Birmingham police force for keeping "order" and "preventing violence." I don't believe you would have so warmly commended the police force if you had seen its angry violent dogs literally biting six unarmed, nonviolent Negroes. I don't believe you would so quickly commend the policemen if you would observe their ugly and inhuman treatment of Negroes here in the city jail; if you would watch them push and curse old Negro women and young Negro girls; if you would see them slap and kick old Negro men and young Negro boys; if you will observe them, as they did on two occasions, refuse to give us food because we wanted to sing our grace together. I'm sorry that I can't join you in your praise for the police department.

It is true that they have been rather disciplined in their public handling of the demonstrators. In this sense they have been rather publicly "nonviolent." But for what purpose? To preserve the evil system of segregation. Over the last few years I have consistently preached that nonviolence demands the means we use must be as pure as the ends we seek. So I have tried to make it clear that it is wrong to use immoral means to attain moral ends. But now I must affirm that it is just as wrong or even more so to use moral means to preserve immoral ends. Maybe Mr. Connor and his policemen have been rather publicly nonviolent, as Chief Pritchett was in Albany, Georgia, but they have used the moral means of nonviolence to maintain the immoral end of flagrant injustice. T. S. Eliot has said that there is no greater treason than to do the right deed for the wrong reason.

I wish you had commended the Negro sit-inners and demonstrators of Birmingham for their sublime courage, their willingness to suffer, and their amazing discipline in the midst of the most inhuman provocation. One day the South will recognize its real heroes. They will be the James Merediths, courageously and with a majestic sense of purpose, facing jeering and hostile mobs and the agonizing loneliness that characterizes the life of the pioneer. They will be old, oppressed, battered Negro women, symbolized in a seventy-two year old woman of Montgomery, Alabama, who rose up with a sense of dignity and with her people decided not to ride the segregated buses, and responded to one who inquired about her tiredness with ungrammatical profundity: "My feets is tired, but my soul is rested." They will be the young high school and college students, young ministers of the gospel and a host of their elders courageously and nonviolently sitting-in at lunch counters and willingly going to jail for conscience sake. One day the South will know that when these disinherited children of God sat down at lunch counters they were in reality standing up for the best in the American dream and the most sacred values in our Judaeo-Christian heritage, and thus carrying our whole nation back to great wells of democracy which were dug deep by the founding fathers in the formulation of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence.

Never before have I written a letter this long (or should I say a book?). I'm afraid it is much too long to take your precious time. I can assure you that it would have been much shorter if I had been writing from a comfortable desk, but what else is there to do when you are alone for days in the dull monotony of a narrow jail cell other than write long letters, think strange thoughts, and pray long prayers?

If I have said anything in this letter that is an overstatement of the truth and is indicative of an unreasonable impatience, I beg you to forgive me. If I have said anything in this letter that is an understatement of the truth and is indicative of my having a patience that makes me patient with anything less than brotherhood, I beg God to forgive me.

I hope this letter finds you strong in the faith. I also hope that circumstances will soon make it possible for me to meet each of you, not as an integrationist or a civil rights leader, but as a fellow clergyman and a Christian brother. Let us all hope that the dark clouds of racial prejudice will soon pass away and the deep fog of misunderstanding will be lifted from our fear-drenched communities and in some not too distant tomorrow the radiant stars of love and brotherhood will shine over our great nation with all their scintillating beauty.

Yours for the cause of

Peace and Brotherhood,

Martin Luther King, Jr.

In the current fiscal climate of pulling “triggers” and in the governor’s newly announced proposed budget, our schools are once again taking a deep financial cut.

The services provided to our students and the extracurricular activities that were once considered an essential part of a child’s education are being reduced or eliminated.

In the past two years, budget pressure has prompted more than three-quarters of California's school districts to reduce art and music; one-quarter of them have dropped the classes entirely.

This places an even greater burden on our community to raise the funds necessary to provide a full range of educational experiences for our kids.

Many of you are wondering what more you can do to help.

True security comes when these programs can fiscally support themselves. There is no better way to support our extracurricular and performing arts programs than attending their games and performances. Most of these programs rely on the entrance fees or concessions to purchase and replace equipment.

Spend your entertainment dollars on things that support our kids. Watching our children perform, either artistically or athletically, is really fun.

Who can resist a group of kindergarteners singing their hearts out? If you have not seen the show choir, concert band or jazz band of Lower Lake High School, you are truly missing something.

Our Lake County Children’s Orchestra is outstanding as exemplified when they played "Five Ukrainians in a Bell Tower," to the 5/4 swing style made famous by Brubeck’s “Take Five.”

The Konocti Basketball League has elementary school-aged kids playing exciting games every week. Many events have free entry; they fundraise through their concessions.

Often there is a delicious homemade treat to enjoy. You can splurge on less than $10 and be served with a smile by people who really appreciate your business and who may even greet you by name. This is one of the main reasons that many of us chose to live, work, and raise our kids here.

Lake County’s athletes are highly competitive and they are exciting to watch. Whatever game or tournament you choose to attend, you can always see athletics at a fine, amateur level. Those who really know the sport can easily see an offensive or defensive system being run.

You can watch wrestlers as they perfect their take downs and pinning combinations. If you do not know the sport, those around you will be more than willing to provide an explanation. In addition, the students get the energy that comes from a big crowd of supporters. It’s a win-win.

You could follow a local team all season for less money than it costs to be in the upper deck of a Kings or Warriors game and it won’t cost you $20 for parking or $4 for a bottle of water.

There has been no time in our history that we need your support more than right now. When there is a banquet, such as the Medieval Dinner for the Lower Lake High School Band in February, or a car wash to take students on a field trip, you can receive a service or experience while at the same time supporting our kids on many levels.

You do not need to have a child or relative participating to attend. These are our children from our community; they are wonderful and whatever you do will help.

Some would say that we need to support our kids because they are our future. I prefer to do so because they are our present. Their personal gifts are our gifts. Spend your entertainment dollars in the community.

For information regarding upcoming events, visit the school district Web site calendar. Konocti’s website is www.konoctiusd.org.

Our children appreciate your support and the opportunities it provides for their personal growth and development.

William R. MacDougall, Ed.D., is superintendent for the Konocti Unified School District.

I found out Wednesday afternoon from a Lake County Sheriff’s deputy and a department chaplain who met me as I stepped out of my car, that Chris had been a passenger in a truck that had gone off the road in Boggs Forest and struck a tree. He was killed instantly.

As they sat me down in the kitchen of my home I suddenly realized I was alone and I was devastated. My son was never coming home.

I was dispatched by the Record-Bee to Middletown High School Wednesday morning to chronicle the events of the Every 15 Minutes program as students, Every 15 Minutes Committee Members and Lake County public safety personnel reenacted a vehicle accident in front of the high school, which involved a drunk driver and would claim the lives of two students.

As the morning unfolded I watched as the Grim Reaper, announced by the tolling of the bells that rang every 15 minutes, suddenly appeared in classrooms throughout the campus and selected his victims, one of whom was my son, and escorted them past the graveyard lined with tombstones that bore each of their names and into oblivion.

I photographed the daughter of one of our best friends as she was led into a room and made up to appear as if she had sustained critical injuries before being placed into a car to play out her role. Her transformation was so real it was frightening.

Then as all gathered at the front of the school it all began as the hundreds of spectators were abruptly silenced by the explosion and burst of light that signaled that the accident had taken place.

Radios blared, sirens wailed but they could not drown out the screams that emanated from the wrecked cars.

Lying on the hood of the pick up truck which had crashed head on into a car containing three students was the body of a teenaged boy thrown violently through the windshield and obviously dead. In the street at the foot of the other car’s door, a teenaged girl lay dying.

Time stood still; seconds seemed like an eternity as the Grim Reaper waited across the street with the souls of the other victims who would perish this day.

I knew this wasn’t real. My son was alive and well, and that I would see him again yet I couldn’t help but be moved by the scene and the emotions of the moment. I couldn’t help but recall another accident scene many years ago that claimed the life of a former Middletown High School student. His name was Brian Moore and he was 20 years old.

I remember entering the Tallman Gym and being swept up in the moment, something a reporter can never afford but I couldn’t help as I took in the sight of hundreds of members of the community who had gathered to remember him. The Record-Bee sports stories – some I had authored – artwork, letters and images of Brian that chronicled his life on and off the athletic field placed upon easels and steering those that entered the gym through it unfolded before me bringing him back to life if only for a moment. I wasn’t the only person to shed tears that day.

Sadly 2012 starts off with another moment in time that I will never forget.

In the early morning hours of last Sunday my son entered our bedroom with tears streaming down his face, seemingly lost, not knowing what to do.

He had received a text on his phone telling him that the collision last Saturday night on Highway 29 may have involved one of his best friends.

After a brief drive down the hill his worst fears were confirmed, his friend Jena Marks, her boyfriend Patrick Campbell and Jena’s mother Kari, had died. Three more lives claimed in just a moment of time.

Other than having met Jena a time or two at one event or another, I really didn’t know them at all yet, just like the Every 15 Minutes program or Moore’s memorial, I felt a tremendous sense of loss and found myself crying.

I can only imagine what my son or Daniel and Jeff, Marks’ sons, are going through. In one moment they stand before you laughing, full of joy and life while, in the blink of an eye – in a moment in time – they are gone and a happy home gone silent.

Sunday will find the Tallman Gym filled once again with members of the south county community who will gather to celebrate the lives of Jena, Kari and Patrick, sharing their own special memories – their moments in time – with all of us. When we all depart it will be with hearts filled with their love, their joy of life and strength of purpose, but mostly we will leave with the faith and belief that their spirits are forever with us until we meet in that moment of time once again.

Funds have been established for both the Marks and Campbell families at Wells Fargo Bank.

For the Marks family direct your donations to Daniel Walters at account 8534215515, the Kari and Jena Marks Memorial Fund at Wells Fargo Bank.

A fund for Patrick Earl Campbell has been set up at the Wells Fargo Bank in Sebastopol, phone 707-824-2620. Donations may be made through any branch of Wells Fargo Bank.

Now is the time for healing and to that end my thoughts go to the other three victims of this tragic event, Michael Wright, Kari Marks’ longtime boyfriend, as well as Steven and Lezley Beyer. The Lake County community needs to support them as well.

Thanks for your time. The pear box is now returned to the shed.

Dave Fromer lives in Hidden Valley Lake, Calif.

My grandmother used to have a saying, “My feet don’t hurt when I’m dancing,” and while I’ve found that this is true, the next day is another story.

The schedule for the theater this month includes “To Kill a Mockingbird” on Tuesday, Jan. 10, at 6 p.m.; Roy Zimmerman on Saturday, Jan. 14; and the incredible Bill Noteman and the Rockets for Third Friday Live on Friday, Jan. 20, starting at 7 p.m.

“Lake County Live” is a live audience broadcast that will take place on stage on Sunday, Jan. 29, at 6 p.m. Broadcast on KPFZ 88.1 FM, I invite you to join the audience and become part of the live broadcast.

This month’s Lakeport Theatre story comes from Patti Reese (Gernert), daughter of Bob and Margaret Reese who owned the theater for many years. She has several stories.

The following is one of her recollections.

“There is so much to remember … Sandbagging when Main Street flooded; the Greyhound bus driving through town carrying the next night’s film, which needed to be picked up at the depot on Main Street; the Christmas party every year for the kids; the movies after Prom; private showings of Romeo and Juliet, Flowers for Algernon, etc. to the schools; CLHS Pep Squad slumber parties before the Kelseyville game; the very popular Hispanic movies on Wednesday nights, then later on Sunday afternoons; and Senior Matinees, sponsored by the bank.

“I remember selling tickets on the weekend, watching everyone cruise Main Street. People stopped by on a regular basis just to buy popcorn (with REAL butter) or to chat with dad about hunting, fishing, motorcycles, Rotary Club, or a community issue. Former employees stopped in just to say “hi.” Every patron was greeted at the doo, and tourists often became friends. My dad was the face of the theater while my mom was doing much of the work behind the scenes.

“I never had a date take me to a movie in Lakeport (imagine that!). I never got kicked out for talking, but a few times I was sent to sit in the office for the night. I ate so much candy, it’s a wonder I have teeth, and I saw almost every movie made before 1974. I knew who everyone was in town, and I developed a great appreciation for the community of Lake County through my connection to the theater. I hope the facility that helped nurture that appreciation remains and thrives as a key social hub in Lake County.”

Tickets for events at the theater are now available at the Travel Center in the Shoreline Shopping Center in Lakeport, Monday through Friday, 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. They also can be purchased at the theater box office at 275 S. Main St. in Lakeport on Thursday and Friday from 10:30 a.m. to 5 p.m.

For all the latest in information, tickets and more go to www.soperreesetheatre.com.

We’ll see you at the theater.

Mike Adams is executive director of the Soper-Reese Community Theatre in Lakeport, Calif.

Now I had been to Milan twice before but never had such a knowledgeable guide with a little Fiat to drive me to all of the out of the way historic sites.

While we visited the ancient fourth century church of St. Eustorgio at the edge of Milan he pointed to an ancient stone sarcophagus-like container that was inscribed to indicate that it contained the bones of the Three Wise Men.

Explaining that their remains were brought to Milan from Constantinople in 343 A.D. by St. Eustorgio, and that it was now empty, he became increasingly animated, arms waving, face reddening, as he described how they were stolen by the Germans and now are kept in Cologne.

If I had not already known the story, I’d have thought that this just happened last week. I thought it best not to mention that I had several times visited the Three Kings in Cologne, whose names, tradition tells us, are Casper, Melchior and Balthasar. I also did not think it would have been helpful for me to tell him that my maternal grandfather was from Cologne!

As it was, back in the late 1990s, I had stopped in Cologne, and visited their magnificent Gothic Cathedral.

The focal point of the cathedral is a gilded, bejeweled and enameled shrine that is believed to contain the relics of the Magi, who Scripture tells us followed a brilliant star from the East to Bethlehem to worship the Christ Child.

Since then, I have had several other opportunities to make this pilgrimage to honor these holy relics that have been venerated there since the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa had them to be transferred from Milan to Cologne in 1164.

On Jan. 6, we along with Christians around the world celebrated the Feast of Epiphany, the beginning of the Epiphany season (it's also celebrated on the first Sunday of January between Jan. 2 and Jan. 8). Even though it is one of the most ancient and important feasts of the Christian calendar, it has all but been forgotten in 21st Century American culture.

In many Christian countries it is not only a church holy day, but a civil holiday. Many customs and traditions have grown up around its celebration over the centuries and it is known by a variety of names.

In most countries of Europe the most popular is The Feast of the Three Holy Kings, and in England and Ireland as Little Christmas or Twelfth Night. (That’s how we got the song, The Twelve Days of Christmas.)

Quite early in the Christian era these Magi or Wise Men were popularly called “Kings,” referring to passages from Psalm 71:10 and Isaiah 60:3-6. The Gospel does not tell us how many they were. Christians in the Orient had an old tradition that there were twelve Magi. The number three seems only to be based on the threefold gift of gold, frankincense, and myrrh; and that they represented the three known races.

(Another story I’ve been told is that the number of three Magi was insisted on by a very ancient Altar Guild who obstinately refused to pack up a dozen figures of Kings and their camels every year!)

The name of this feast, Epiphany, had become almost unintelligible until recent years when the word “epiphany” crept back into our current speech to describe a sudden revelation or realization, as in “I had an epiphany today about...”

And this is quite correct, as Epiphany comes from an ancient Greek word Epiphaneia meaning manifestation, and was used to designate an official state visit of a king or emperor in the Greco-Roman world. The New Testament applied this term to Christ manifesting Himself as our Divine Savior (John 2:11).

The feast of Christ’s “manifestation” on Jan. 6, including His birth, originated in Egypt a century before the Roman celebration of Christ’s nativity on Dec. 25, and was the earliest known celebration of Christmas. In the following century the two observances were kept side by side with the focus of Dec. 25 on Christ’s birth and Jan. 6 His manifestation to the Magi, as well as His Baptism and His first miracle at the wedding in Cana.

The visit of the Magi to worship the Christ Child in Bethlehem has remained the main object the Epiphany celebration in Western Christianity, with the commemoration of Christ’s Baptism by St. John in the River Jordan now observed on the following Sunday.

We mark this by blessing water after the Sermon on that Sunday and then in place of reciting the Nicene Creed, we stand and renew our Baptismal Vows. Then we are sprinkled with the blessed water as a remembrance of our own Baptism.

Thus we embark on the season of Epiphany which concludes on the Sunday before Lent when we celebrate Christ’s Transfiguration, His ultimate manifestation before His Crucifixion, and Resurrection.

Throughout Epiphany we usually sing one of my favorite hymns:

Songs of thankfulness and praise, Jesus, Lord, to thee we raise,

manifested by the star to the sages from afar;

branch of royal David's stem in thy birth at Bethlehem;

anthems be to thee addressed, God in man made manifest.

Manifest at Jordan's stream, Prophet, Priest and King supreme;

and at Cana, wedding guest, in thy Godhead manifest;

manifest in power divine, changing water into wine;

anthems be to thee addressed, God in man made manifest.

Manifest on mountain height, shining in resplendent light,

where disciples filled with awe thy transfigured glory saw.

When from there thou ledest them steadfast to Jerusalem

cross and Easter Day attest God in man made manifest.

I wish each of you a Blessed and Joyous Epiphany!

Father Leo M. Joseph, O.S.F., is parish priest of St. John’s Parish in Lakeport, Calif.