Amen Etefa is a third-year theology, justice, and peace major. She currently serves on the board of the Black Student Union, is a member of the Diversity Council and works as a student worker for the Office of Multicultural and International Student Services. After graduation, she hopes to be a voice for those who are marginalized, advocate for inclusion and belonging and shed light on the issues of today’s world. She doesn’t yet know exactly what this will look like – whether it’s through working with non-profit organizations or serving in the church – but she knows that her purpose is to be a vessel for Christ’s love on Earth.
Point Loma Nazarene University’s Civil Rights Pilgrimage is a part of the SOC 3035 class field trip to the South. This year, alongside a group of 25 students, staff and faculty, we traveled to Selma, AL, Birmingham, AL and Atlanta, GA. The trip, which lasted from March 6-12, was one of the most transformative experiences of my life. Though it was only a week long, I have never learned so much history or felt such a whirlwind of emotions in such a short time. From heartache to hope, every step of this journey stirred something in me that I will carry forever.
Our first few days were spent in Selma, where we visited several museums and historic homes. One of the most powerful stops was the Legacy Museum, which displayed the harsh realities of American history – from slavery to mass incarceration. Walking through the exhibits, I couldn’t help but cry. The sound of crashing waves, symbolizing the millions of lives lost at sea filled the room. The voices of enslaved people singing spirituals, pleading for deliverance, echoed in my ears. It was haunting. This museum didn’t just teach history – it made me feel it. It shook me to my core.
Before visiting the Legacy Museum, we toured the First White House of the Confederacy, the home of Jefferson Davis, the first and only president of the Confederacy. Which, in my opinion, was a deeply disturbing site. The tour presented a romanticized version of history, without mention of the suffering of Black Americans. There were no images or acknowledgment of the enslaved people whose labor built this nation. It felt as though their pain had been erased – as if the Confederacy’s role in Black oppression had been conveniently forgotten.
One of the most unforgettable stops was the Mothers of Gynecology Museum. It was both fascinating and heartbreaking. The museum, founded by Michelle Browder, honors the enslaved Black women and girls whose bodies were used without consent for experimental surgeries by J. Marion Sims – the so-called “father of gynecology.” Hearing how Sims performed so many surgeries on these young girls without anesthesia made me feel physically ill. Yet, despite the horror of these stories, there was also beauty in how Browder used art to honor these women. The sculptures she created – representing three enslaved women, Anarcha, Betsey and Lucy, who were tortured and abused by Sims to the point of death – were breathtaking. Through her work, their suffering is remembered, their voices are reclaimed and their strength is glorified.
Throughout the pilgrimage, we had the privilege of meeting and learning from some of the most inspiring figures of our time. We heard from Bryan Stevenson, author of “Just Mercy,” whose words on justice and redemption left a lasting impression. We also met Congresswoman Terri Sewell, a powerful advocate for civil rights in Alabama.
One of the most profound moments of the trip was walking across the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma for the 60th anniversary of Bloody Sunday. Marching with my peers and professors, I felt like I was not only honoring history, but I was becoming a part of it. With each step, I thought of the brave souls who crossed that bridge in 1965, facing unimaginable violence, yet pressing on. I could feel their courage in the air.
I cannot describe how much this experience means to me. It changed me. When I returned to PLNU, I called my family and shared everything I had learned – not just the history but also the deep conviction that we, as a nation, still have so much more to learn. This pilgrimage made me realize that the struggle for justice is not just a chapter in our history – it is ongoing.
The pilgrimage occurs every other year in the spring. I believe every student at PLNU could benefit from this experience. It is one thing to read about history, but it is another to walk in its footsteps. To feel it. To be moved by it. Our history, no matter how painful, matters. It still shapes the world we live in today. That is why we must continue to learn, remember and act.
Steve Anderson