40TH ANNIVERSARY OF LITTLE ROCK
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THE WHITE HOUSE

Office of the Press Secretary
(Little Rock, Arkansas)
________________________________________________________________________
For Immediate Release September 25, 1997



REMARKS BY THE PRESIDENT
IN CEREMONY COMMEMORATING
THE 40TH ANNIVERSARY OF THE
DESEGREGATION OF CENTRAL HIGH SCHOOL


Central High School
Little Rock, Arkansas



11:10 A.M. CDT


THE PRESIDENT: Governor and Mrs. Huckabee; Mayor and Mrs. Dailey;
my good friend, Daisy Bates, and the families of Wylie Branton and
Justice Thurgood Marshall. To the co-chairs of this event, Mr. Howard,
and all the faculty and staff here at Central High; to Fatima and her
fellow students -- (applause) -- to all my fellow Americans: Hillary
and I are glad to be home, especially on this day. And we thank you
for your welcome. (Applause.)

I would also be remiss if I did not say one other word, just as a
citizen. You know, we just sent our daughter off to college, and for
eight and a half years she got a very good education in the Little Rock
school district. And I want to thank you all for that. (Applause.)

On this beautiful, sun-shiny day, so many wonderful words have
already been spoken with so much conviction, I am reluctant to add to
them. But I must ask you to remember once more and to ask yourselves,
what does what happened here 40 years ago mean today. What does it
tell us, most importantly, about our children's tomorrows.

Forty years ago, a single image first seared the heart and stirred
the conscience of our nation; so powerful most of us who saw it then
recall it still. A 15-year-old girl wearing a crisp black and white
dress, carrying only a notebook, surrounded by large crowds of boys
and girls, men and women, soldiers and police officers, her head held
high, her eyes fixed straight ahead. And she is utterly alone.

On September 4th, 1957, Elizabeth Eckford walked to this door
for her first day of school, utterly alone. She was turned away by
people who were afraid of change, instructed by ignorance, hating what
they simply could not understand. And America saw her, haunted and
taunted for the simple color of her skin, and in the image we caught a
very disturbing glimpse of ourselves.

We saw not one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and
justice for all, but two Americas, divided and unequal. What happened
here changed the course of our country here forever. Like Independence
Hall where we first embraced the idea that God created us all equal.
Like Gettysburg, where Americans fought and died over whether we would
remain one nation, moving closer to the true meaning of equality. Like
them, Little Rock is historic ground. For, surely it was here at
Central High that we took another giant step close to the idea of
America.

Elizabeth Eckford, along with her eight schoolmates,
were turned away on September 4th, but the Little Rock Nine did
not turn back. Forty years ago today, they climbed these steps,
passed through this door, and moved our nation. And for that, we
must all thank them. (Applause.)

Today, we honor those who made it possible -- their parents
first. As Eleanor Roosevelt said of them, "To give your child for a
cause is even harder than to give yourself." To honor my friend,
Daisy Bates and Wylie Branton and Thurgood Marshall, the NAACP, and
all who guided these children; to honor President Eisenhower, Attorney
General Brownell, and the men of the 101st Airborne who enforced the
Constitution; to honor every student, every teacher, every minister,
every Little Rock resident, black or white, who offered a word of
kindness, a glance of respect, or a hand of friendship; to honor those
who gave us the opportunity to be part of this day of celebration and
rededication.

But most of all we come to honor the Little Rock Nine. Most of
us who have just watched these events unfold can never understand fully
the sacrifice they made. Imagine, all of you, what it would be like to
come to school one day and be shoved against lockers, tripped down
stairways, taunted day after day by your classmates, to go all through
school with no hope of going to a school play or being on a basketball
team or learning in simple peace.

Speaking of simple peace, I'd like a little of it today.
(Applause.)

I want all these children here to look at these people. They
persevered. They endured. And they prevailed. But it was at great
cost to themselves.

As Melba said years later in her wonderful memoir, Warriors
Don't Cry, "My friends and I paid for the integration of Little Rock
Central High with our innocence."

Folks, in 1957, I was 11 years old, living 50 miles away in Hot
Springs, when the eyes of the world were fixed here. Like almost all
Southerners then, I never attended school with a person of another race
until I went to college. But as a young boy in my grandfather's small
grocery store, I learned lessons that nobody bothered to teach me in my
segregated school. My grandfather had a 6th grade education from a
tiny rural school. He never made a bit of money. But in that store,
in the way he treated his customers and encouraged me to play with
their children, I learned America's most profound lessons: We really
are all equal. We really do have the right to live in dignity. We
really do have the right to be treated with respect. We do have the
right to be heard.

I never knew how he and my grandmother came to those convictions,
but I'll never forget how they lived them. Ironically, my grandfather
died in 1957. He never lived to see America come around to his way of
thinking. But I know he's smiling down today not on his grandson, but
on the Little Rock Nine, who gave up their innocence so all good people
could have a chance to live their dreams. (Applause.)

But let me tell you something else that was true about that time.
Before Little Rock, for me and other white children, the struggles of
black people, whether we were sympathetic or hostile to them, were
mostly background music in our normal, self-absorbed lives. We were
all, like you, more concerned about our friends and our lives, day in

and day out. But then we saw what was happening in our own back yard,
and we all had to deal with it. Where did we stand? What did we
believe? How did we want to live? It was Little Rock that made racial
equality a driving obsession in my life.

Years later, time and chance made Ernie Green my friend. Good
fortune brought me to the Governor's Office, where I did all I could
to heal the wounds, solve the problems, open the doors so we could
become the people we say we want to be.

Ten years ago, the Little Rock Nine came back to the Governor's
Mansion when I was there. I wanted them to see that the power of the
office that once had blocked their way now welcomed them. But like so
many Americans, I can never fully repay my debt to these nine people.
For, with their innocence, they purchased more freedom for me, too, and
for all white people. People Like Hazel Brown Massery, the angry
taunter of Elizabeth Eckford, who stood with her in front of this
school this week as a reconciled friend. (Applause.) And with the
gift of their innocence, they taught us that all too often what ought
to be can never be for free.

Forty years later, what do you young people in this audience
believe we have learned? Well, 40 years later, we know that we all
benefit -- all of us -- when we learn together, work together, and
come together. That is, after all, what it means to be an American.
(Applause.)

Forty years later, we know, not withstanding some cynics, that
all our children can learn, and this school proves it. (Applause.)
Forty years later, we know when the constitutional rights of our
citizens are threatened, the national government must guarantee them.
Talk is fine, but when they are threatened, you need strong laws
faithfully enforced and upheld by independent courts. (Applause.)

Forty years later, we know there are still more doors to be
opened, doors to be opened wider, doors we have to keep from being
shut again now. Forty years later, we know freedom and equality
cannot be realized without responsibility for self, family, and the
duties of citizenship, or without a commitment to building a community
of shared destiny and a genuine sense of belonging.

Forty years later, we know the question of race is more complex
and more important than ever -- embracing no longer just blacks and
whites or blacks and whites and Hispanics and Native Americans, but now
people from all parts of the Earth coming here to redeem the promise of
America.

Forty years later, frankly, we know we're bound to come back
where we started. After all the weary years and silent tears, after
all the stony roads and bitter rides, the question of race is in the
end still an affair of the heart. (Applause.)

But if these are our lessons, what do we have to do? First, we
must all reconcile. Then we must all face the facts of today. And
finally we must act. Reconciliation is important not only for those
who practice bigotry, but for those whose resentment of it lingers, for
both are prisons from which our spirits.

If Nelson Mandela, who paid for the freedom of his people with
27 of the best years of his life, could invite his jailers to his
inauguration and ask even the victims of violence to forgive their
oppressors, then each of us can seek and give forgiveness. (Applause.)

And what are the facts? It is a fact, my fellow Americans, that
there are still too many places where opportunity for education and
work are not equal, where disintegration of family and neighborhood
make it more difficult. But it is also a fact that schools and
neighborhoods and lives can be turned around if, but only if, we are
prepared to do what it takes.

It is a fact that there are still too many places where our
children die or give up before they bloom, where they are trapped in
a web of crime and violence and drugs. But we know this too can be
changed, but only if we are prepared to do what it takes.

Today children of every race walk through the same door, but then
they often walk down different halls. Not only in this school but
across America, they sit in different classrooms, they eat at different
tables. They even sit in different parts of the bleachers at the
football game. Far too many communities are all white, all black, all
Latino, all Asian. Indeed, too many Americans of all races have
actually begun to give up on the idea of integration and the search for
common ground.

For the first time since the 1950s, our schools in America are
resegregating. The rollback of affirmative action is slamming shut the
doors of higher education on a new generation, while those who oppose
it have not yet put forward any other alternative. (Applause.)

In so many ways, we still hold ourselves back. We retreat into
the comfortable enclaves of ethnic isolation. We just don't deal with
people who are different from us. Segregation is no longer the law,
but too often, separation is still the rule. And we cannot forget one
stubborn fact that has not yet been said as clearly as it should.
There is still discrimination in America. (Applause.)

There are still people who can't get over it, who can't let it
go, who can't go through the day unless they have somebody else to
look down on. And it manifests itself in our streets and in our
neighborhoods and in the workplace and in the schools. And it is wrong.
And we have to keep working on it -- not just with our voices, but with
our laws. And we have to engage each other in it.

Of course, we should celebrate our diversity. The marvelous
blend of cultures and beliefs and races has always enriched America,
and it is our meal ticket to the 21st century. But we also have to
remember with the painful lessons of the civil wars and the ethnic
cleansing around the world, that any nation that indulges itself in
destructive separatism will not be able to meet and master these
challenges of the 21st century. (Applause.)

We have to decide -- all you young people have to decide -- will
we stand as a shining example, or a stunning rebuke to the world of
tomorrow? For the alternative to integration is not isolation or a new
separate but equal, it is disintegration.

Only the American idea is strong enough to hold us together. We
believe, whether our ancestors came here in slave ships or on the
Mayflower, whether they came through the portals of Ellis Island or on
a plane to San Francisco, whether they have been here for thousands of
years, we believe that every individual possesses the spark of
possibility; born with an equal right to strive and work and rise as
far as they can go, and born with an equal responsibility to act in a
way that obeys the law, reflects our values and passes them on to their
children. We are white and black, Asian and Hispanic, Christian and
Jew and Muslim, Italian and Vietnamese and Polish Americans and
goodness knows how many more today. But above all, we are still
Americans. Martin Luther King said, "We are woven into a seamless
garment of destiny. We must be one America."

The Little Rock Nine taught us that. We cannot have one America
for free. Not 40 years ago, not today. We have to act. All of us
have to act. Each of us has to do something. Especially our young
people must seek out people who are different from themselves and speak
freely and frankly to discover they share the same dreams. All of us
should embrace the vision of a colorblind society, but recognize the
fact that we are not there yet and we cannot slam shut the doors of
educational and economic opportunity. (Applause.)

All of us should embrace ethnic pride and we should revere
religious conviction, but we must reject separation and isolation.
All of us should value and practice personal responsibility for
ourselves and our families. And all Americans, especially our young
people, should give something back to their community through citizen
service. (Applause.) All Americans of all races must insist on both
equal opportunity and excellence in education. That is even more
important today than it was for these nine people; and look how far
they took themselves with their education. (Applause.)

The true battleground in education today is whether we honestly
believe that every child can learn, and we have the courage to set high
academic standards we expect all our children to meet. We must not
replace the tyranny of segregation with the tragedy of low expectations.
I will not rob a single American child of his or her future. It is
wrong. (Applause.)

My fellow Americans, we must be concerned not so much with the
sins of our parents as with the success of our children, how they will
live and live together in years to come. If those nine children could
walk up those steps 40 years ago, all alone, if their parents could
send them into the storm armed only with school books and the
righteousness of their cause, then surely together we can build one
America -- an America that makes sure no future generation of our
children will have to pay for our mistakes with the loss of their
innocence. (Applause.)

At this schoolhouse door today, let us rejoice in the long way we
have come these 40 years. Let us resolve to stand on the shoulders of
the Little Rock Nine and press on with confidence in the hard and noble
work ahead. Let us lift every voice and sing, "till earth and heaven
ring," one America today, one America tomorrow, one America forever.

God bless the Little Rock Nine, and God bless the United States
of America. Thank you. (Applause.)

END 11:30 A.M. CDT


 

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