Julie Su: Sixty Years Later, the March is Still Unfinished
By Julie Su
This month marks the 60th anniversary of the legendary civil rights marches from Selma to Montgomery. On March 7, I was in Alabama to commemorate the day that came to be known as Bloody Sunday—when peaceful marchers were met with vicious attacks and violent beatings for daring to demand their seat at the table in our democracy.
The violence wrought against marchers wasn’t just about opposition to any single issue, like voting rights. It was a rejection of the humanity of an entire community. Bloody Sunday was about maintaining a system of white supremacy, a system that devalued Black lives and denied Black excellence. It was violence perpetrated by the state to remind Black Americans that they should know their place.
Today, we are seeing similar state-initiated attacks meant to accomplish the same goal. The anti-DEI campaign and book bans of today are the batons and tear gas of 60 years ago.
From the highest levels of government, we’ve heard DEI blamed for everything from airplane crashes to military readiness. These are not careless throwaway comments. They are part of a concerted attack on Black people – and other people of color, women, and the LGBTQ+ community – to deny participation in the full opportunities of American life. By repeating the false narrative of inferiority, the goal is to automatically equate non-white with unqualified and incompetent.
Throughout our history as a nation, that narrative has been built not just in sweeping moments but through small, sometimes barely perceptible steps, that have stripped away the humanity and stories of individuals and communities.
Today’s book bans are designed to scrub libraries and classrooms of anything related to people of color, discrimination, racism, and identity. Federal websites are erasing history: Arlington National Cemetery removing information on Black soldiers and women’s military service; the Army deleting the history of the 442nd, a fighting unit composed almost entirely of Japanese American soldiers who fought for America even as their relatives were sent to internment camps and who became the most decorated regiment in U.S. history.
Each of these acts might seem small. But they are not. History warns of what horrific policies become justified when government peddles the racist narrative of inferiority and reinforces it with erasure.
As an Asian American woman, I am a beneficiary of DEI programs. I have been in diverse environments from elite educational institutions to competitive workplaces because of a commitment by those in charge to opening the doors of opportunity to people who would otherwise have been shut out. Discussions about policing in law school were immeasurably enriched by classmates who had very different experiences with law enforcement.
I did not know either of the California governors – Jerry Brown or Gavin Newsom – until they nominated me for high-level positions in state government; I was not part of their circle and never would have been had it not been for their concerted effort to find people with excellent qualifications and experience that were more diverse than their existing networks. And when President Biden said he wanted “a cabinet that looked like America,” he did not decrease standards. Instead, he found the most expert people in various fields from different backgrounds and experiences that, for years, weren’t even considered.
The more people think that someone else stole something they deserved, the more people will be divided and focused on fighting each other, rather than the systemic challenges that stand between us and the American Dream. Things like stable jobs with dignity and the ability to retire at a reasonable time with security; paid leave so workers don’t have to choose between making a living and having a life; reliable and affordable health care and child care; the ability to breathe clean air and know that when you turn on the faucet at home, you get clean water. The current administration has no plan for any of these things. In fact, their moves over the last month have cut hundreds of thousands of jobs and their proposed budget would make people living precariously even worse off.
After meeting with communities all across the country as Acting Secretary of Labor, I believe the real lesson of 2024 is not that we went too far—it’s that we didn’t go far enough. We didn’t deliver enough for people of color who feel like they don’t have a path to security. We supported unions and workers joining unions and negotiating historic contracts but far too many workers still face retaliation and intimidation when it comes to organizing. We didn’t state a clear enough vision for how immigrants make our economy and communities stronger and how we need more legal pathways to citizenship not fewer. The failure to fully welcome immigrants into the full promise of America is a bigger threat to our economic and national security than anything happening at the southern border. While real wages rose because of economic policies that prioritized workers and expanded good jobs at home, we had a long way to go before all workers got a fair shot.
Now is our time not to retreat but to escalate, to go even bolder. Now is the time to tell our stories and to connect them to the stories that this administration doesn’t want us to know.
Being in Montgomery on the anniversary of Bloody Sunday reminded me that the march 60 years ago that day from Selma was not completed that day. The violent attacks ended the forward progress of that day. And a second attempt also ended before the march was complete. It wasn’t until a third attempt that the marchers reached Montgomery. They didn’t stop.
We can’t either.
Julie Su is a nationally recognized workers’ rights and civil rights lawyer and expert who served in President Biden’s cabinet as the Acting Secretary of Labor and is currently a senior fellow at The Century Foundation.
