Rev. James Lawson at Edgewood College
People movement history
People movement history
Edgewood College students Zachary Kimbrew (l) and
Tyrone Cratic-Williams (r) greet Rev. James Lawson at
Edgewood.
Tyrone Cratic-Williams (r) greet Rev. James Lawson at
Edgewood.
By Jonathan Gramling
Part 1 of 2
When many people begin to depict the modern civil rights movement, they tend to start
with Martin Luther King Jr., mention the Montgomery Bus Boycott and a few other major
milestones and talk about the Voting Rights Act of 1964 as the significant achievement of the
era. Yet the civil rights movement was a complex historical movement that involved the actions
and decisions of millions of people and progressed only through activities such as marches in
countless hamlets, villages and cities across America.
And while Dr. King was the major leader and recognized figurehead of the civil rights
movement, there were many more leaders who put their lives on the line and led the movement
to some of its impressive gains. One of those leaders is Rev. James Lawson who spoke at
Edgewood College April 23 through their Distinguished Lecture series. While Dr. King was the
figurehead of the civil rights movement, Lawson was the heart of its commitment to non-violence
as an effective tool for social change.
For the past 50 years, Lawson has been involved in the civil rights movement — what he
calls the peoples movement to emphasize that the movement was bigger than just civil rights —
and has stayed involved as others have come and gone.
Part 1 of 2
When many people begin to depict the modern civil rights movement, they tend to start
with Martin Luther King Jr., mention the Montgomery Bus Boycott and a few other major
milestones and talk about the Voting Rights Act of 1964 as the significant achievement of the
era. Yet the civil rights movement was a complex historical movement that involved the actions
and decisions of millions of people and progressed only through activities such as marches in
countless hamlets, villages and cities across America.
And while Dr. King was the major leader and recognized figurehead of the civil rights
movement, there were many more leaders who put their lives on the line and led the movement
to some of its impressive gains. One of those leaders is Rev. James Lawson who spoke at
Edgewood College April 23 through their Distinguished Lecture series. While Dr. King was the
figurehead of the civil rights movement, Lawson was the heart of its commitment to non-violence
as an effective tool for social change.
For the past 50 years, Lawson has been involved in the civil rights movement — what he
calls the peoples movement to emphasize that the movement was bigger than just civil rights —
and has stayed involved as others have come and gone.
Lawson attributes his longevity to his faith. “I have to say it is basically the faith that I have been given across the decades and being persuaded that this is
the work to which I am called and I will continue for as long as I sense that calling is alive and well,” Lawson said in response to a question on his staying power.
Lawson was born into a family of faith. His father was an AME Zion minister and his mother was a God-fearing woman whose concept of right and wrong and
faith were clear cut no matter what was going on in the world around them.
When Lawson was four years old, Lawson’s father became pastor of St. James AME Zion Church in Massillon, Ohio. While the sentiments of the day
dictated that virulent racism only appeared in the South, Lawson knew differently. “I will never forget that day we moved into a house on Tremont Court,” Lawson
reflected. “That’s the first time and place that I recall facing innocently in the park or in the streets racial slurs. This is not in Mississippi, but in Ohio. And so there
ensued a serious struggle within me and that struggle went something like this. ‘Do you live out of the sense of your own being that you have been given or
granted by your parents and family and by that marvelous people in the congregation who loved you? Do you operate out of that stream of thought of love and
compassion and truth? Is that who are? Or do you yield to the hostility in the society and the definitions that the society would impose upon you.”
An incident occurred during Lawson’s youth when his youthful tendency was to follow more the justice of the streets. It was an incident that led to an
epiphany of where Lawson’s life would lead him. Lawson was running an errand for his mother.
“As I made a left turn off of Second Street on to Main Street, there was a car parked on my side of the street at the curb,” Lawson recalled. “The windows
were all open. I saw in the car a young White child like myself. I do not remember if it was a boy or a girl. And as I approached the car moving on by, this child
put his or her head on the front seat, stood up on the front seat, leaned out of the window fully with his or her head above the height of the car and yelled at me
the ‘n-word.’ And I walked over to the child and smacked the person without hesitation or fear and then charged up the street and did whatever my mother asked
me to do. I came back the same way down Second Avenue through the back alley and into the backyard and the back door. After I reported to my mother the
errand she had sent me on, I sat down in a favorite seat at the back door in the kitchen. And we were visiting and in the process, I told her about the incident on
Lincoln Way while I was running her errand. I will never forget that experience.”
“She simply asks me — I’ll never forget this — the first question,” Lawson said. “‘Jimmy, what good did that do?’ Then she went through a rehearsal of our
family’s tradition and spirituality of who we were and the love in our family, the love of God, our church community and all the rest of it. She talks about how
much I am loved. I do not remember all the bits and pieces, but I know it is her kind of rehearsal to me. But I remember the last sentence in her soliloquy.
‘Jimmy, there must be a better way.’ After the talk to that point, the whole world stood still for me. We had a noisy family, a piano and other instruments. At that
time, I had three younger brothers. We were all pretty noisy and boisterous and athletic. At that time, none of that was going on in the house. Where my older
sisters were, I do not know to this day. The whole place was as if the whole world stopped. And there was no sound of the family or the house inside or outside.
Then I heard a voice say — a voice that at first I did not recognize as my own because it seemed to be in such a deep place and a faraway place — ‘Never
again will you on the playground or anywhere else because of some insult or whatnot because you have gotten angry, will you use your fists again to hurt.’ And
then I heard the voice later on say ‘And you will find the better way.’”
So began Lawson’s spiritual road to the practice of non-violence in resolving issues ranging from the personal to the societal. Lawson’s own search took him
to the life and writings of Mahatma Gandhi and his use of non-violence in South Africa and the Indian independence movement.
Lawson was in Nagpur, India at Hislop College where he was a coach and campus minister on December 5, 1955 when he was introduced to Martin Luther
King Jr. and the Montgomery Bus Boycott through the headlines in The New York Times. It filled him with joy.
the work to which I am called and I will continue for as long as I sense that calling is alive and well,” Lawson said in response to a question on his staying power.
Lawson was born into a family of faith. His father was an AME Zion minister and his mother was a God-fearing woman whose concept of right and wrong and
faith were clear cut no matter what was going on in the world around them.
When Lawson was four years old, Lawson’s father became pastor of St. James AME Zion Church in Massillon, Ohio. While the sentiments of the day
dictated that virulent racism only appeared in the South, Lawson knew differently. “I will never forget that day we moved into a house on Tremont Court,” Lawson
reflected. “That’s the first time and place that I recall facing innocently in the park or in the streets racial slurs. This is not in Mississippi, but in Ohio. And so there
ensued a serious struggle within me and that struggle went something like this. ‘Do you live out of the sense of your own being that you have been given or
granted by your parents and family and by that marvelous people in the congregation who loved you? Do you operate out of that stream of thought of love and
compassion and truth? Is that who are? Or do you yield to the hostility in the society and the definitions that the society would impose upon you.”
An incident occurred during Lawson’s youth when his youthful tendency was to follow more the justice of the streets. It was an incident that led to an
epiphany of where Lawson’s life would lead him. Lawson was running an errand for his mother.
“As I made a left turn off of Second Street on to Main Street, there was a car parked on my side of the street at the curb,” Lawson recalled. “The windows
were all open. I saw in the car a young White child like myself. I do not remember if it was a boy or a girl. And as I approached the car moving on by, this child
put his or her head on the front seat, stood up on the front seat, leaned out of the window fully with his or her head above the height of the car and yelled at me
the ‘n-word.’ And I walked over to the child and smacked the person without hesitation or fear and then charged up the street and did whatever my mother asked
me to do. I came back the same way down Second Avenue through the back alley and into the backyard and the back door. After I reported to my mother the
errand she had sent me on, I sat down in a favorite seat at the back door in the kitchen. And we were visiting and in the process, I told her about the incident on
Lincoln Way while I was running her errand. I will never forget that experience.”
“She simply asks me — I’ll never forget this — the first question,” Lawson said. “‘Jimmy, what good did that do?’ Then she went through a rehearsal of our
family’s tradition and spirituality of who we were and the love in our family, the love of God, our church community and all the rest of it. She talks about how
much I am loved. I do not remember all the bits and pieces, but I know it is her kind of rehearsal to me. But I remember the last sentence in her soliloquy.
‘Jimmy, there must be a better way.’ After the talk to that point, the whole world stood still for me. We had a noisy family, a piano and other instruments. At that
time, I had three younger brothers. We were all pretty noisy and boisterous and athletic. At that time, none of that was going on in the house. Where my older
sisters were, I do not know to this day. The whole place was as if the whole world stopped. And there was no sound of the family or the house inside or outside.
Then I heard a voice say — a voice that at first I did not recognize as my own because it seemed to be in such a deep place and a faraway place — ‘Never
again will you on the playground or anywhere else because of some insult or whatnot because you have gotten angry, will you use your fists again to hurt.’ And
then I heard the voice later on say ‘And you will find the better way.’”
So began Lawson’s spiritual road to the practice of non-violence in resolving issues ranging from the personal to the societal. Lawson’s own search took him
to the life and writings of Mahatma Gandhi and his use of non-violence in South Africa and the Indian independence movement.
Lawson was in Nagpur, India at Hislop College where he was a coach and campus minister on December 5, 1955 when he was introduced to Martin Luther
King Jr. and the Montgomery Bus Boycott through the headlines in The New York Times. It filled him with joy.