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The Montgomery Bus

Decent Essays

December 1, 1955 was a day that I will never forget because it marks the anniversary of the Montgomery bus incident. On that date, I had gotten on a city bus to head home after a long day working at the tailor shop, and I was later arrested. At this point, my mind was focused on why equality is deserved and how I should defend my spot on the bus. I had been sitting in a seat in the back half of the bus where I was supposed to go. During a certain point in the ride home, there had been an excess amount of people getting on compared to the usual 5-10 passengers. Therefore, some of us blacks had been told to give up our seats to the white people who “deserved” it more. Me, being African-American was one of the “lucky” ones who was told to let …show more content…

It was a normal day, and I was at work until I had to go. Then everything took a turn once I had sat down on the bus and was asked to give up my seat to a “more deserving” person than I. The way I reacted was by deciding that standing up for myself was the best way to go. So, I stayed on the bus until the bus driver had called the police to come and get me. They eventually had shown up to where I was on the bus and handcuffed me, and I was then arrested sitting in a cop car. At the start of the day, I had foreseen a nice, normal day without having big problems to worry about such as this one. As soon as this had all happened, and I was arrested and put in jail, my whole day was turned around. This being said, jail was a very different experience compared to everyday normal routines. It was so isolated, and you were put in a cell with very little places to sit or things to do. Jail was not a place I would call nice, but once you're there, you start to think about what you did to end up there in the first place. Even with those thoughts, I still had the gut feeling, wondering why segregation was a rule that had to be made. The idea of separating people for the color of their skin was just a way of discriminating race against people. Many African-Americans were living in poverty and ended up in desperate need for simple, everyday items because they weren’t allowed to have good jobs to pay for those costs. I myself grew up in a family where everyone, no matter what the age, as long as you could walk and talk, had to work a job to earn money. There were times in my life, when my family and I barely had enough to keep our house. This just goes to show that everyone matters, and nobody should have to live in

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