Hold My Hand—In memory of Lucille Bridges

When I heard the news yesterday that Lucille Bridges, mother of civil rights icon Ruby Bridges passed away this week, I was struck once again by the power of story in our culture. The innocent six-year-old girl in a starched white dress and white shoes, dwarfed by national guard soldiers is etched in our consciousness. The almost unimaginable bravery of this little black girl in the face of screaming mobs and violence has become a symbol of courage, transformation, and love in the face of hate, her story Immortalized by our 20th-century giants John Steinbeck and Norman Rockwell.

But Ruby didn’t come by that courage on her own, she had to inherit it from someone. Nor did she come to the steps of the William Frantz School alone. Someone had to imagine her there, and prepare her for it, and then stand back and watch as she stepped into the crucible of history.

I have often wondered what it must have taken for my forebears in the civil rights movement to place their children in the eye of the storm. Even knowing the power of symbols to shape our historical narratives. Even after committing oneself to the struggle, how could a mother or a father look at their child and say, "She will be the one. We will go."

These were the thoughts that became the song "Hold My Hand" that is at the center of Step by Step: The Ruby Bridges Suite.

In her autobiography Through My Eyes, Ruby speaks of her family's decision to send her to The William Frantz School, the first desegregated school in New Orleans in 1960.

"My father didn’t want any part of school integration. He didn’t think things would ever change. My mother was convinced that no harm would come to us. She thought that the opportunity for me to get the best education possible was worth the risk, and she finally convinced my father.

On Sunday November 13th, my mother told me I would start at a new school the next day. She hinted there could be something unusual about it, but she didn’t explain. ‘There might be a lot of people outside the school,’ she said. “But you don’t need to be afraid. I’ll be with you?”

I understand Ruby's heroism, and on my good days, I can imagine myself taking up her example and facing down the vitriolic crowds, eyes straight ahead. But of Lucille Bridges I can only stand in awe and gratitude for the courage it must have taken to offer up her child to history—so that I wouldn't have to.

For her love, her courage, and her sacrifice, may she walk proudly with the ancestors.

“Hold My Hand” words & music by Darrell Grant

Hold my hand child
Hold my hand
Someday you will understand
Straight ahead, child
Never fear
God is watching
Love is near.

Little white shoes and starched white dress
Little black feet in this wilderness
Eyes wide open, trying not to skip
Who couldn't love you?

Singing voices, praying hands
March you through the angry bands
Those whose work you carry on
They're cheering for you.

Hold my hand child
Hold my hand
Someday you will understand
Straight ahead, child
Never fear
God is watching
Love is near.