The death of Claudette Colvin in a Texas hospice this week marks the passing of a true civil rights pioneer. Her story, long overshadowed, offers profound and urgent lessons about the nature of protest, memory, and the ongoing fight for equality.
The Forgotten Stand That Made History
On 2 March 1955, in Montgomery, Alabama, a 15-year-old schoolgirl named Claudette Colvin refused an order to give up her bus seat to a white woman. Her act of defiance came a full nine months before the more famous protest by Rosa Parks. The bus driver called the police, who kicked Colvin and arrested her. Her lawyer, Fred Gray, believed her case could challenge segregation, but local black leaders deemed her an unsuitable symbol. They considered her too young, too poor, too dark-skinned, and later, when she fell pregnant, too much of a liability.
When Rosa Parks was arrested in December 1955, the male-dominated, church-led leadership saw an ideal candidate. As one local leader, ED Nixon, later admitted, "I probably would've examined a dozen more before I got there if Rosa Parks hadn't come along." Colvin was relegated to the footnotes, her physical and material sacrifice unacknowledged for decades while she worked quietly as a nurses' aide in New York.
Four Enduring Lessons from a Life of Resistance
Colvin's remarkable life, which finally gained recognition in her 60s, provides crucial insights for today's struggles.
Firstly, history is made by ordinary people. Popular narratives often sanitise activists into saints, which demeans their real humanity and struggle. Rosa Parks was no accidental heroine; she was a seasoned militant feminist and anti-racist who admired Malcolm X. She stated, "I had almost a life history of being rebellious against being mistreated against my colour."
Secondly, systemic biases shape who we remember. Inequalities of race, class, and gender influence whose bravery is celebrated. Colvin understood this, telling journalist Gary Younge, "They picked the right person... They needed someone who would bring together all the classes. They wouldn't have followed me." The challenge is not to diminish those who are honoured, like Parks, but to also lift up those like Colvin, or like Silverio Villegas González, an undocumented migrant shot by ICE, whose names are too easily forgotten.
Thirdly, and most critically, resistance is collective. The Montgomery story is not solely about Colvin or Parks. It is about the organisation—spearheaded largely by women—and the 13-month bus boycott by thousands that ultimately forced change. An individual can spark a movement, but sustained power comes from the multitude.
Finally, the struggle never ends. The rights Colvin fought for are under renewed assault, with civil and voting rights protections being rolled back. When asked if promoting a Rosa Parks museum would bring her closure, Colvin refused. "What closure can there be for me?" she asked. "This struggle is not over. We still don't have all that we should have."
A Legacy That Demands We Continue
Claudette Colvin's journey from obscurity to global obituaries in outlets like the New York Times and the BBC is a testament to her enduring significance. Her life teaches us that the fight for justice requires the courage of individuals, the power of the collective, and a relentless commitment to remembering all who contribute. As she herself knew, the work is unfinished, demanding that each generation pick up the mantle and continue the march towards equality.
