Jean Dunkelberger
Reflections…
I grew up in Florida.
Therefore, I knew who Dr. Mary McLeod Bethune was … or thought I did.
After all, I won the District Oratorical Contest with my speech on Dr. Mary McLeod Bethune – “Queen of the Black Race!” (a line from my speech).
Today I stand on the campus she founded, preparing to visit the landmark structure she called home.
The flood of emotions I felt as we explored her home surprised me.
I tried to imagine what it was like as a Black woman in her era.
As I listened to the curator talk of her accomplishments and looked at the photographs of the people she called friends – presidents, billionaires and even foreign diplomats, her life seemed effortless.
I am certain though that it was anything but.
I contemplated of all the obstacles she had to overcome. I envisioned the hardships she must have endured, all the closed doors she must have encountered, all the “No’s” she had to have heard.
Yet, she persevered.
I am not a descendant of Dr. Bethune, yet I have benefited from her legacy.
I did not know her personally; nevertheless, she opened doors for me and broke down walls so I could be afforded the opportunities she fought for me to have.
Standing in the quaint space where she enjoyed her afternoon tea, I ask myself:
What have I done to hold open the door for those who come after me?
Jean Dunkelberger
I grew up in Florida.
Therefore, I knew who Dr. Mary McLeod Bethune was … or thought I did.
After all, I won the District Oratorical Contest with my speech on Dr. Mary McLeod Bethune – “Queen of the Black Race!” (a line from my speech).
Today I stand on the campus she founded, preparing to visit the landmark structure she called home.
The flood of emotions I felt as we explored her home surprised me.
I tried to imagine what it was like as a Black woman in her era.
As I listened to the curator talk of her accomplishments and looked at the photographs of the people she called friends – presidents, billionaires and even foreign diplomats, her life seemed effortless.
I am certain though that it was anything but.
I contemplated of all the obstacles she had to overcome. I envisioned the hardships she must have endured, all the closed doors she must have encountered, all the “No’s” she had to have heard.
Yet, she persevered.
I am not a descendant of Dr. Bethune, yet I have benefited from her legacy.
I did not know her personally; nevertheless, she opened doors for me and broke down walls so I could be afforded the opportunities she fought for me to have.
Standing in the quaint space where she enjoyed her afternoon tea, I ask myself:
What have I done to hold open the door for those who come after me?
Jean Dunkelberger