Melba Beals grew up in a middle class black suburb of Little Rock. She had a room of her own where she kept stuffed animals, listened to Nat “King” Cole and Johnny Mathis, and wrote in the diary her Grandmother gave her to make her complaints to God. She was afraid of white people, but also wanted to ride on the merry-go-round in the park, which was forbidden.
Born in December, 1941, Melba lived with her mother, who was a teacher, her grandmother, and brother. Her parents had divorced when she was seven. Melba hated seeing how frightened her parents seemed to be of whites. When the family visited relatives in Cincinnati, she was thrilled by how simple relations between whites and blacks seemed, and wanted to move there. But she had volunteered to be among those ready to integrate Little Rock’s big Central High School. The day arrived sooner than she expected, though Orval Faubus, Arkansas’ governor was dead set against it.
Integration began in September, 1957, and as Melba’s grandmother said, “all Hades broke loose.” The day school opened, such a hateful mob gathered at the school that Melba and her mother barely escaped. For the next few days she and the other eight black students waited at the NAACP office studying by themselves. Eisenhower co-opted the Arkansas National Guard which Faubus had used to prevent students from coming to school, and sent in the 101st Airborne Division of the army to protect the students.
On September 23, 1957, the nine students went to school. Melba was 15, a junior. She was terrified. Her grandmother told her, “You are a warrior. God’s warriors don’t cry. You pull yourself together and recite the 23rd Psalm.” In classes Melba was the only black. She was called names, kicked, spit upon and slapped. Between classes, at least at the beginning, her guard Danny protected her, following her with a rifle and bayonet.
In addition to the hatred Melba faced at school, she lost her old friends, who felt she was too “fancy” for them. The phone at their house never stopped ringing, with people giving their opinions. Some nights Grandma India sat up with her rifle across her lap. Weekends were more normal with Melba going to church with her family.
As the weeks went on, Melba was harassed at every turn. “Two, four, six, eight, we ain’t goin’ to integrate,” students shouted. The teachers didn’t seem to have any control over the situation. Gym class was horrific. She was scalded in the shower, her clothes stolen. When acid was doused in her eyes, Danny washed them out with water, saving them. Danny too told Melba she must become a warrior and taught her ways to protect herself. By November the 101st Airborne was gone. The Arkansas guards watched, but did nothing.
By the end of January, when Melba told her grandmother she wished she were dead, her grandmother gave her Gandhi to read. “Fighting back is never a solution,” she said. “Anger brings defeat. Change the rules of the game. Thank your tormentors.” Melba did achieve some peace with this strategy, but the abuse didn’t stop. Once when an angry group came toward her, a white kid, Link, told her to take his car. He called her at night and prepared her for what might happen the next day. He pretended to be a segregationist, but he protected Melba as he was able.
As school came to a close, the segregationists were determined to prevent the one senior in the group, Ernie, from graduating. Senior events were canceled. Officials told Melba’s mother her next teaching contract would be canceled if she didn’t take Melba out of high school. But Grandmother India had a remedy for this too. “We’ll go see Bishop Sherman.” That did the trick and Melba’s mother was given a contract.
Finally school was over. Ernie graduated and the “Little Rock Nine” as the group came to be known, traveled to several cities, receiving awards for their courage and meeting people. Melba prepared to go back to school in the fall, but Governor Faubus closed all the high schools in the city!
That year was lonely for Melba. Her grandmother got leukemia and died in October. The following year the NAACP put out a call for families in which students could board and finish school. Melba went to Santa Rosa, California, where she boarded with a Quaker family, George and Carol McCabe. She then continued on to San Francisco State.
Melba married John Beals and had a daughter, Kelli, but was divorced a few years later as she wanted to have a career. She worked as a journalist, getting a master’s in journalism; and then as an educator, with a doctorate. Her first book, Warriors Don’t Cry [published 1994], detailing her year at Central High School, was followed by White Is a State of Mind [published 1999] which discussed Beals’ further coming of age.
I especially loved the descriptions of Melba Beals’ family life in her books, utterly normal in the mid-century modern sense. In the photographs, she and the other teenage girls all wear the crinolines I had to fight for! In the years after high school, Beals embodied all the feminine quandaries of our time. She never stopped using her faith and the grounding words of her Grandmother India to help her through the moral and professional questions which she faced. Becoming a pioneer activist, she lost her original community, but gained much. She continues to live on the west coast.
