Eric Etheridge

What is it that impels people to become involved in movements for social change? That they feel strongly, it goes without saying. But what makes them choose to get involved? What makes them decide that this is the moment to take a stand? Breach of Peace seeks to address that question, reproducing the mug shots taken of the Freedom Riders - the Civil Rights activists who descended upon Mississippi in 1961, determined to integrate bus and train stations - who were arrested and convicted of the charge of "breach of peace," and who spent time in Mississippi’s notorious Parchman state prison. Taken by the anti-integration Mississippi State Sovereignty Commission and preserved in the state’s Vital Records Center, these photographs only saw the light of day again after a protracted legal struggle on the part of the Mississippi ACLU.

Paired whenever possible with a current portrait, taken by photographer Eric Etheridge, as well as basic biographical information and brief personal statements, these mug-shots have been used to create a unique oral history of a great (and terrible) moment in our nation’s history. Here the reader can witness the senselessness of segregation, and the brutality of its defenders. But this is mainly the story of the quiet courage and principled strength of the ordinary Americans - black and white, male and female, Christian and Jew, Northerner and Southerner, experienced activist and previously uninvolved citizen - who chose this moment in history to stand up against injustice, and put their lives on the line for the ideal of equality.

In the pages of this book the reader will encounter Jean Thompson, born and raised in Louisiana, whose parents always taught her that the injustice of segregation couldn’t last forever: ”They raised us to be ready. I remember my dad saying the day will come, and when the day comes, you should be ready.” Here too is Alexander Weiss, whose family escaped from Europe in 1940, and who was determined not to be one of those ”good Germans who just looked the other way;” or William Leons, who felt that in confronting the evils of Jim Crow he was living up to the example of his parents, both of whom were sent to concentration camps for their role in the Dutch Resistance during World War II.

Many of those interviewed felt that they simply did what “needed to be done,” while others seemed to be conscious at the time that they were participating in extraordinary events. Claude Liggins, twenty years old at the time of his arrest, had always wondered what it would have been like to participate in the Boston Tea Party, and used to imagine himself ”being in that kind of thing, wanting to know how it felt to be part of some historical thing.”

Some of the Freedom Riders were longtime members of the Movement, while others seem to have just “stumbled” into it. Most of them were organized through C.O.R.E. (Congress of Racial Equality), but some - such as Canadian Michael Audain - simply answered the call of conscience, and came on their own.

These vignettes - sadly incomplete, as some of the Freedom Riders have since died, and others could not be found - are also a timely reminder that "the more things change the more they stay the same." Many of those chronicled here have stayed active in politics, and are still fighting for "the dream" of a just society. It is a sobering thought that Joan Pleune, arrested on June 20, 1961 as a Freedom Rider, is still being arrested, these days as a member of the Granny Peace Brigade, protesting the Iraq War. Or take the case of Theresa Walker, arrested June 21, 1961. Her most recent "criminal" activity was her participation in a NYC protest at the police killing of Amadou Diallo. Do you even need to inquire as to whether she was arrested?

Finally, I should note that I tend to go through phases in my reading, whether intentional or no, and it struck me, upon completing Breach of Peace, that I seem to be drawn to portrait collections of late. First it was Kiviat and Heidler's Women of Courage and Logan's Unveiled, both of which offer portraits and brief autobiographical snippets by Afghan women. Then it was Taryn Simon's The Innocents, which profiles 47 people who served time for crimes they didn't commit, before being freed by the Innocence Project. Most recently it was Rosann Olson's This Is Who I Am, in which modern American women discuss their bodies and self-image...

Is this some new trend, or is it just coincidence that I keep running across photography/biography collections of this nature? Whatever the case may be, Breach of Peace is a powerful record, one that made me think about the intersections between national and family history. I recommend that every American citizen take the time to read it - not just for its depiction of a crucial moment in our nation's history, but for the portrait of true heroism and strength that it offers.… (mer)