Anne Braden

From the color of the faces in Sunday songs
To the hatred they raised all their youngsters on
Once upon a time in this country, long ago
She knew there was something wrong
Because the song said «Yellow, red, black and white
Every one precious in the path of Christ»
But what about the daughter of the woman cleaning their house?
Wasn’t, she a child they were singing about?
And if Jesus loves us, black and white skin
Why didn’t her white mother invite them in?
When did it become a room for no blacks to step in?
How did she already know not to ask the question?
Left lasting impressions
Adolescent’s comfort’s gone
She never thought things would ever change
But, she always knew there was something wrong
She always knew there was something wrong
She always knew there was something wrong
Years later, she found herself Mississippi-bound to help
Stop the legalized lynching of Mr. Willie McGee;
But they couldn’t stop it, so they thought that they’d talk to the governor
about what happened
And say «We're tired of being used as an excuse to kill black men»
But the cops wouldn’t let 'em past
And these women, they struck 'em as uppity
So they hauled 'em all off to jail
And they called it protective custody
Then from her cell she heard her jailers grumbling about «outsiders»
When she called 'em out and said she was from the South, they shouted
«Why is a nice, Southern lady making trouble for the governor?»
She said, «I guess I’m not your type of lady, and I guess I’m not your type of
Southerner
But before you call me traitor, well it’s plain as just to say
I was a child in Mississippi but I’m ashamed of it today»
She always knew there was something wrong
She always knew there was something wrong
She always knew there was something wrong
She always knew there was something wrong
And all of a sudden I realized that I was on the other side
Imagine the world that you’re standing within
All of your neighbors and family friends
How would you cope, facing the fact
The flesh on their hands, was tainted with sin?
She faced this every day
People she saw on a regular basis
People she loved, in several cases
People she knew were incredibly racist
It was painful, but she never stopped loving them
Never stopped calling their names
And she never stopped being a Southern woman
And she never stopped fighting for change
And she saw that her struggle was in the tradition of ancestors never aware of
her
It continues today; the soul of a Southerner, born of the other America
She always knew there was something wrong
She always knew there was something wrong
She always knew there was something wrong
She always knew there was something wrong
What you win in the immediate battles is- is little compared to the effort you
put into it, but if you see that as a part of this total movement to build a
new world, you know what cathedral you’re building when you put your stone in
You do have a choice!
You don’t have to be a part of the world of the lynchers
You can… join the other America
There is another America!