Saturday, October 26, 2013

Embracing Change

     A story to commemorate the 45th Anniversary of one of Indiana's most notorious murder cases scratched open a wound for the town where it all unfolded.
     It's no secret Martinsville, Indiana has been fighting a stigma of intolerance for decades.  For African Americans and people of color, the 1968 murder of Carol Jenkins on the streets of Martinsville has long been associated with the town's reputation.  (Although there have been other noted incidents since then)  
     Martinsville is also the gateway to one of the world's premiere higher institutions of learning, Indiana University.   It was there, at I-U, on the 45th anniversary that randomly chosen students shared their perceptions about the town just 30-minutes north of campus.  What they said sparked fury.   The students said they had been warned that Martinsville was not a welcoming place for people of color and that they should stay away.  Most didn't push the issue, but accepted the warning as words of wisdom.
      The Mayor of Martinsville acknowledged students at Indiana University were being warned, and took issue what he described as "rumors" about the town serving as headquarters for the Ku Klux Klan.
He was right to voice concern, as history does not support that claim.  It is true that the Klan marched in Martinsville and many other rural communities in the 60's.  The Mayor also acknowledged a "task force" if you will, of residents working on changing the image of the town and getting the word out about special exhibits focused on diversity.
      An I.U. professor in African American studies also talked about the need for Martinsville and the university to work together to erase some of the perceptions.   In his opinion it would be good for both communities and help with recruiting faculty and students.  
      Martinsville residents went on the attack.  Most saw no point in bringing up the 45-year anniversary, and saw it as nothing but big city media stirring the pot for ratings or website views.
Part of the consternation centers on the arrest of Kenneth Richmond, of Indianapolis, who was charged with Jenkins' murder in 2002.   Martinsville residents question how their town bares responsibility for someone who came in from the outside to commit an evil act.  It's a reasonable question.  If that was the only factor, it would make sense that Martinsville's reputation would be repaired instantaneous.
The problem is much more complex.  
        For 33-years the murder of Carol Jenkins went unsolved.  Jenkins' family and the NAACP questioned the handling of the investigation almost from the beginning.  Blunders revealed decades later, show the case suffered from missing records, sloppy record keeping and a failure to uphold basic investigative standards like confirming reports of a suspect's death.    Even the caucasian woman who eventually implicated her father Kenneth Richmond, in the crime said she called police to give information years earlier, and no one followed up.   Richmond's arrest came after decades of mistrust and after several Martinsville residents reportedly bragged openly about being involved in the killing.
Unfortunately the name of the alleged accomplice in the case is unknown.  It is very possible that person resides in or near Martinsville.  Someone knows, and could bring this case to a conclusion.
        Another resounding question:  "Racism is everywhere, why limit the discussion to Martinsville?  Why not talk about other communities or even Indianapolis?"  The answer is simple.  It was the 45th anniversary of a case that as the Mayor of Martinsville said, "had an impact on the town."   Absolutely, racism exists everywhere, and it goes both ways.  The Carol Jenkins murder case is a historical marker. It made people take notice.  There's something about stories like the Birmingham church bombing, the Emmitt Till case and yes, to a lesser degree the Carol Jenkins murder mystery that does something to our collective conscious.   It makes us ask tough questions about who we are as a people, when four black girls die from a bombing at church,  or a 21-year old black woman dies on the streets of a small town, where she stopped to sell encyclopedias.  
        Here we are now 45-years later.  No one can change what has happened, but those of us here can work towards embracing change for the future.  It doesn't mean forgetting the past, but requires learning from our mistakes.   It means exchanging a defensive response, with one of compassion and acknowledging the gaps that separate.   There's no place for name-calling and misplaced rage.  On the contrary, we must collectively find a way to channel our deepest frustrations and hurts, into open dialogue and more importantly communities that say:  "We can't do it alone, we need you and you need us."  45-years later.  It's time. 
     

No comments:

Post a Comment