Northwest Arkansas Democrat-Gazette
Growing up history for kids of the Nine
They knew pioneer Central students first as moms and dads, then heroes
What’s it like to have a civil-rights icon as a mother or father?
It’s a lot of things, according to the children of the nine black students who attended the first full day of classes at a desegregated Central High School in Little Rock exactly 60 years ago today.
It can be strange, overwhelming and difficult, but in the end, it’s a blessing, the now-grown children said.
During a panel discussion at Ron Robinson Theater on Sunday, the children of the Little Rock Nine nodded in agreement as each described the surreal experience of reading about their parents in history textbooks during grade school.
Matthew Pattillo, the adopted son of Melba Pattillo Beals, described a day at his elementary school’s library when he stumbled upon the book Warriors Don’t Cry, unaware his mother was the author. All he knew was that the woman on the cover looked strangely familiar.
As he grew up, Pattillo learned his mother’s place in history after watching her give media interviews, read stacks of fan mail and receive the Congressional Gold Medal at the White House in 1999.
“I just saw her as mom,” Pattillo said. “But I saw that a lot of others see her as much more.”
Pattillo and the eight other children laughed and cried at Ron Robinson Theater on Sunday afternoon before a packed crowd that included their parents — the eight surviving members of the Little Rock Nine.
The panel discussion was part of a series of events commemorating the 60th anniversary of the desegregation of Little Rock’s Central High School.
Nine black teenagers attended the first day of school on Sept. 25, 1957, under the protection of federal soldiers. The troops were ordered to Little Rock to protect the black students from embittered segregationists.
Only weeks earlier, National Guardsmen barred the black students from entering the school under the direction of then-Gov. Orval Faubus, who said he feared desegregation would cause violence.
The anniversary week culminates today with an event at Central High involving the eight surviving former students — who are now in their 70s — and former President Bill Clinton.
On Sunday, though, it was all about their children — well, mostly. The surviving Little Rock Nine members were also given the chance to ask questions.
Terrence Roberts, who was one of the nine black students in 1957 and now lives in California, asked the group of children if there are any details from the desegregation struggle that they’d still like to know.
MacKenzie Green, daughter of Little Rock Nine member Ernest Green, joked that she’d wanted to know how many people they wanted to curse at the end of each school day.
The younger Green also provided the afternoon’s most emotional moment when responding to her father’s question about whether being the children of the Little Rock Nine helped or hurt their development.
“Every day I get a really, really great reminder of what my name means,” MacKenzie Green said as her voice began to shake. “When I graduate from Columbia Business School and I look over and I see this face that everyone else is looking at for inspiration looking at me for inspiration, it is the only reason when friends say ‘what’s the big deal? Why don’t you want to go out tonight. Grades don’t matter; you’ve got time.’ It’s literally the only reason sometimes I
continue to push when everything in me says to quit.”
Several of the other children on the stage wiped tears from their eyes as the crowd thundered in applause.
The group was also asked about the recent controversy in the NFL over players kneeling during the national anthem to express concern about the treatment of blacks by police. The controversy escalated over the weekend after President Donald Trump criticized kneeling players, saying the “son of a b***h” players who protest during “The Star Spangled Banner” should be fired.
Ernest Green’s other child, Adam, who is an associate history professor at the University of Chicago, drew a connection between the protest and Central High’s desegregation.
“It’s also a simple constitutional question; you have a right to say whether you see something going on in your country,” he said of the kneeling players. “That simple thing comes right back to 1957 and the right to go to school.”
Asked if they remember any deep, substantive conversations with their parents about the events of the late 1950s, most of the children said those conversations never occurred. Most guessed that their parents found it difficult to discuss and wanted to insulate their children from it.
The one exception was Spirit Trickey, whose mother Minnijean Brown Trickey was among the nine black students in 1957. Trickey, who now works at the Smithsonian Institution, spent 10 years working at Little Rock Central High School National Historic Site. She’s also helping her mother write a memoir.
Elizabeth Eckford, whose grace in the face of such hate carries the iconic photograph most associated with Central High’s desegregation, said Sunday’s panel helped her understand the impact her and the fellow Little Rock Nine members’ experiences had on the next generation.
The moderator, Skip Rutherford, dean of the University of Arkansas Clinton School of Public Service, posed one final question: Who will carry the torch once the surviving members of the Little Rock Nine are gone?
After a brief discussion, Rutherford turned to the audience.
‘The question about the torch being passed, I think we got our answer right up here,” he said, pointing at the children.