Key Takeaways from Talking abut Freedom

 This semester has been transformative in ways I didn't initially anticipate. As someone planning to pursue law, I found myself diving deep into topics that not only shaped my understanding of our legal system but also prepared me for the rapidly evolving technological landscape we're entering.

The Power of First Amendment Precedents

The first thing that truly captivated me this year was our semester-long exploration of First Amendment cases. We built a comprehensive timeline that stretched across decades of pivotal Supreme Court decisions, and the exercise was eye-opening in the most profound way.

What struck me most wasn't just learning about these cases—it was realizing how deeply they impact our daily lives. These aren't dusty old rulings sitting in law books. They're living, breathing protections that shape how we communicate, worship, and exist in society today.

Take Hustler Magazine v. Falwell from 1988, for example. This landmark case established crucial protections for parody and satire, even when they're offensive. It reinforced that free speech includes speech we might find distasteful or even hateful. That's not always comfortable to grapple with, but it's essential to understand.

Then there's Masterpiece Cakeshop v. Colorado Civil Rights Commission, which brought us into more recent territory. This case highlighted the complex tension between religious freedom and anti-discrimination laws. We learned that private business owners can, in certain circumstances, decline service when they believe it conflicts with their religious convictions. It's exactly the kind of grey area that makes law so fascinating and so necessary.

Understanding the Grey Areas That Define Freedom

These cases—and dozens of others we studied—represent what I like to think of as "grey areas." They're the controversies that don't have easy answers, the conflicts between competing rights and freedoms. But here's what's remarkable: these rulings create the framework that allows us to act willingly and freely today.

Every time we post something controversial online, practice our religion openly, or engage in political discourse, we're standing on the shoulders of these precedent-setting decisions. Understanding this foundation feels crucial as I prepare for law school.

Embracing AI as a Professional Tool

The second major takeaway from this semester was our integration of artificial intelligence into the classroom. I'll admit, I was skeptical at first. But this experience fundamentally changed how I view AI—not as a threat or a shortcut, but as a powerful professional tool.

It's become increasingly clear that AI will play a massive role in our daily lives in the coming years. We might not know exactly what that looks like yet, but the transformation is already underway. Having the opportunity to use AI in an educational setting, with guidance and structure, was invaluable.

I learned how to truly work with AI rather than just asking it for answers. Whether I was expanding my class notes into blog posts, drafting scripts for mock trials, or seeking historical context for complex legal concepts, I discovered how to extract meaningful information through thoughtful prompts and critical evaluation.

Building Confidence for Tomorrow

This hands-on experience gave me something I didn't expect: confidence. I now feel equipped to use AI as the common tool it's becoming in professional environments. As I move toward law school and eventually legal practice, I know this skill will serve me well.

The intersection of legal knowledge and technological literacy feels like the perfect preparation for tomorrow's legal landscape. I'm grateful for a semester that challenged me to think critically about both our constitutional foundations and our technological future.

EOTO Reaction: The Resurgence of the KKK in the 1960s

 With a dramatic resurgence in the 1960s the KKK grew in a drastic manor in order to combat the civil rights movement. After a turn table ruling in Brown V. Board of Education there was a major resistance in the south leading to a revival of the Ku Klux Klan. 

The Klan soon found a way to mobilize there racial attacks. Tactics and Operations included violent intimidation, where Klan members burned crosses, bombed predominantly black areas, and arson. These were targeted attacks to discourage voting and civil rights participation.

With the rapid growth of media coverage the Klan used newspapers, flyers, and TV coverage to gain attention and recruit members. This was deemed appealing to many in the south with a strong hatred to the Civil Rights Movement. While the Klan provided a place where there were formal ranks, titles, committees, and meeting structures all tailored to racists in the south. 

Speaking of deep south ties the Klan was constantly provided institutional support from local law enforcement agents. Police officers, sheriffs, judges by day, Klan members by night. With an environment where the Klan was supported behind community powers like police offices and courtrooms there was extreme cases of violence that members of the Klan were able to get away with, and receive only a slap on the wrist. 

A perfect example being Mississippi Burning, in the summer of 1964, three young civil rights workers disappeared in the deep south of Mississippi. Investigating the burning of a black church the three workers were stopped by local law enforcement on a fabricated traffic violation. Detained and held in jail until nightfall the workers were released from jail, and were ambushed by members of the KKK. The workers innocently murdered, and their bodies were buried in an earthen dam. 

Another bone chilling Klan murder occurred in the summer of 1955, when a fourteen year old name Emmett Till was brutally murdered in Money, Mississippi. Till, the teenager allegedly whistled/ flirted with a white woman working at a local grocery store- this seemed clear to the southerners that this was an obvious breach of the Jim Crown racial codes. Four days later, the woman from the stores husband and friends abducted Till from the home he was visiting. Proceeding to brutally beat, shoot in the head and finally throwing Tills body in the Tallahatchie. 

When his body was found three days later, his face was mutilated and was barley recognizable. His mother, made an action that rippled throughout the Civil Rights movement in holding an open-casket funeral in Chicago. In order to let the world see what had been done to her son. Thousands came to view his body in person and with photographs published by Jet magazine the nation was able to see for themselves what occurred in Money Mississippi.

The victims of Klan violence didn't die in vain. Their stories became powerful catalysts that pushed forward landmark legislation like the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965. While the scars of this era still linger in our communities today, the courage of those who fought against hatred—and those who sacrificed everything in that fight—proves that even in the face of overwhelming evil, the human spirit's demand for justice and equality cannot be extinguished.

Faith and Justice: The Religious Case for Brown v. Board of Education

 On May 17, 1954, the Supreme Court issued one of the most consequential decisions in American history.

In Brown v. Board of Education, the Court unanimously ruled that racial segregation in public schools violated the Fourteenth Amendment's Equal Protection Clause, overturning the "separate but equal" doctrine established in Plessy v. Ferguson nearly sixty years earlier.

While the legal arguments are well-documented, the powerful religious case against segregation deserves equal attention in understanding this landmark ruling.

The Story Behind the Case

The case began in Topeka, Kansas, where Oliver Brown sued the Board of Education on behalf of his daughter Linda.

Linda was forced to walk miles to a segregated Black school despite living near a whites-only school.

Brown's case was combined with four other school segregation cases from across the country, representing the broader struggle against institutionalized racism in American education.

The Foundation of Religious Opposition

At the heart of the religious argument against segregation lies a fundamental biblical principle: all human beings are created in the image of God.

Genesis 1:27 states clearly, "God created man in his own image."

This wasn't abstract theology in 1954—it was the moral foundation upon which the Declaration of Independence proclaimed that all men are created equal and endowed by their Creator with unalienable rights.

When the state forced Black children into separate schools, it directly contradicted this divine truth by suggesting some children bore God's image more fully than others.

Christian organizations across denominations recognized this moral crisis.

The Federal Council of Churches, representing major Protestant denominations, filed amicus briefs supporting Brown.

The National Catholic Welfare Conference similarly opposed segregation as incompatible with Christian teaching.

These weren't fringe voices but mainstream Christian institutions declaring that segregation was fundamentally at odds with the Gospel.

Scripture as Social Justice

The religious case against segregation drew on powerful scriptural commands that spoke directly to the issue.

Jesus Christ's teaching to "love your neighbor as yourself" from Matthew 22:39 wasn't merely a suggestion for personal piety—it was a call to justice that demanded action.

This Golden Rule principle asked a simple but devastating question: Would white parents accept for their own children what they imposed on Black children?

The answer revealed segregation's inherent cruelty.

The Apostle Paul's declaration in Galatians 3:28 that "there is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free—for you are all one in Christ Jesus" provided theological grounding for integration.

If Christians were truly one body in Christ, how could they justify legal systems that divided God's children by race?

The very act of forced separation contradicted the unity that scripture demanded.

Bridging Faith and Law

The genius of the religious argument in Brown was how it connected moral truth to constitutional principle.

The Fourteenth Amendment's guarantee of equal protection wasn't just a legal abstraction—it was the recognition in law of the equal dignity every person possesses as a creation of God.

Religious leaders understood that when civil law contradicted divine law and moral truth, civil law had to yield.

The prophet Amos's call to "let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream" became a rallying cry.

Segregation had dammed that stream for too long, and people of faith demanded it be broken.

The Legacy Today

Brown v. Board of Education succeeded not just because of brilliant legal strategy but because it aligned constitutional law with the moral convictions of millions of Americans who recognized segregation as sinful.

The religious argument provided moral clarity: separate was inherently unequal because it violated the sacred dignity of every child.

Today, as we continue to grapple with questions of equality and justice, the religious case for Brown reminds us that our highest legal principles often reflect our deepest moral truths.

Faith and justice, properly understood, flow in the same direction—toward the recognition that all people, regardless of race, possess equal dignity under God and equal protection under law.

AI Disclaimer: After participation in a mock trial where I sided with Brown in the landmark case Brown V. The Board of Education I I took my argument script and put it into AI. Asking it to produce this blog post. Hope you enjoyed!

Heat of The Night Reflection

 After watching the movie In the Heat of The Night in my Talk About Freedom class at High Point University my eyes were opened to how white males acted in the south. 

At the start of the movie we watch as a police officer is driving past a house and sees a woman nude in the windowsill. From here he drives into the town where he finds a dead body of a wealthy Industry owner from the town. The police officer checks the body and finds nothing but knows who the man is.

Quickly after the same police officer goes looking for suspects, he comes across a black man named Virgil. When he roughs him up Virgil turns over his wallet where Sam finds a wallet that is full of money. With the common southern proception that black people could not succeed like that in the south Sam brings him into the police office.

This is where our first understanding of how the Southern man thinks is portrayed in the film. It was a very common trend through the movie when Virgil was places thought he movie the way he dressed, the way he talked, and the way he acted was completely opposite to how white people wanted him to. Therefore through the film we constantly see common white males of the town call him slurs, limit him from entering places, and refuse serving him.

Once Virgil is brought down to the station he is questioned by the chief who we see right away is not qualified for the job of solving a murder. Virgil is calm and quite because he knows the truth, HE'S A COP! When he calls his CO from back up north he is struck with brutal news, he has to stay down in the south and help solve this murder case. 

This is where the second male thought portrayal occurs, this one being white superiority. Virgil is completely over qualified homicide detective from Philadelphia but when he tries to take proper detective measures he is meet with resistance at every turn. 

First with the medical examiner when he wants to use proper precautionary measure of washing his hands. The cornier and another man look at him like he is crazy and says its out in the lobby. After that when he asks for a thermometer ETC to figure out when the mans time of death was he is once again meet with resistance. 

Next Virgil is at a plantation where the man owning it is a share-cropper. When he enters the nursery Chief is very hesitant as he is a black man talking to a wealthy plantation owner in the south. There are a few awkward interactions and then at the end when Virgil presses into this wealthy man the man slaps Virgil, without hesitation Virgil slaps him right back in the face. The plantation owner quickly with an astonished face turns to chief and says did you see what he just did to me. 

After this interaction Virgil, and Chief go back, the middle of the movie seemed kind of slow to me but at the end it ramped back up again. An important character is a chef at the dinner where Sam went to visit every night. When Virgil went in there the man refused to serve him food. At the end of the movie when Virgil figures out the real killer is him because he needed money the end scene is unforgettable.

Sam has a band of whites he has riled up from the town with guns to his face and he puts the whole thing together. Yet the still don't seem to believe him, begging for his life Virgil tells them to check a purse and check a pocket for money. When it is prove true the white mob turns on each other quickly but this is my final point in closing.

Even when Virgil was begging for his life, there was still a disconnect between white and black. They really didn't believe him at all! after all of that they were going to kill him because of his skin tone in the mid 1960's! I will leave you with one final point in writing all of this my parents were born in 1969, the biggest thing this film helped me realize is that America's dark history in rooted racism and segrigation are not that far behind us.

Sharecropping Video Reaction

                                                                          

When the Civil War ended, approximately four million formerly enslaved people gained their freedom. However, the promise of liberty quickly transformed into a different form of bondage—sharecropping, a system many historians consider "slavery under another name."

In the aftermath of the war, landowners across the South divided their plantations into smaller plots of 20-50 acres. Freedmen and their families were offered the opportunity to work these parcels in exchange for a share of the crops they produced. On the surface, this arrangement seemed reasonable, even beneficial. In reality, it became a new mechanism of exploitation and control.

The terms of sharecropping were deliberately oppressive. Families who labored in the fields from sunup to sundown were forced to surrender half or more of their harvest to landowners. Even more insidious, sharecroppers were required to purchase seeds, tools, and supplies from specific stores, often owned by the landowners themselves. These stores charged exorbitant prices and extended credit at predatory rates. By harvest time, most sharecropping families found themselves deeper in debt than when the season began, trapped in an endless cycle of poverty.

President Andrew Johnson's decision to return confiscated Confederate land to white owners sealed the fate of millions. By the end of Reconstruction, only 30,000 African Americans owned land—a mere fraction of the formerly enslaved population. The dream of "forty acres and a mule" evaporated, replaced by economic subjugation.

Those who dared to challenge this system faced swift and brutal consequences. Intimidation, violence, and death awaited anyone who questioned the arrangement or attempted to leave. White supremacy maintained its stranglehold on the South through terror and economic coercion.

The sharecropping system persisted for nearly eight decades, finally ending after World War II. However, its legacy endures. The racial wealth disparities we observe today trace their roots directly to this period when African Americans were systematically denied the opportunity to accumulate land, wealth, and economic independence.

Sharecropping was not merely an economic system—it was a deliberate re-branding of slavery. Different chains, perhaps, but chains nonetheless. It perpetuated debt, exploitation, and white supremacy throughout the South, ensuring that freedom remained largely symbolic for millions of Black Americans. Understanding this history is essential to comprehending the persistent inequalities that continue to shape American society.

Reconstruction failures- Mother Emanual Massacre

 On June 17th, 2015, a gunman opened fire inside Mother Emanuel Church in Charleston, South Carolina, after praying alongside its Black congregants. Driven by racist hatred, he murdered nine people in cold blood. To understand this tragedy, we must look back to Reconstruction—the failed promise that shaped centuries of racial violence.

A Moment of Unprecedented Hope

In the summer of 1862, thousands of enslaved people found safe haven with Union forces, strengthening the military effort and transforming the war's meaning. When the Civil War ended, the federal government faced monumental questions: How would the nation reunite? What would become of four million formerly enslaved people? Who qualified as a citizen, and what rights did citizenship entail?

For a brief moment, remarkable progress seemed possible. Black Americans sat in the House of Representatives and the Senate. Families torn apart by slavery desperately searched for each other, placing newspaper ads and literally walking roads looking for loved ones. The Freedmen's Bureau was established to help this transition from slavery to freedom, ensuring fair treatment in local courts and labor relations. With over 850,000 acres of land available, the "40 Acres and a Mule" initiative offered a blueprint for real economic independence.

The Betrayal

Then came Andrew Johnson. Hours after Lincoln's assassination on Good Friday, this Southern-born vice president was sworn in at a Pennsylvania hotel. Though he hated the planter class, Johnson's reconstruction plan ultimately served white Southerners. Wealthy rebels received pardons if they personally appealed to him. By summer's end in 1868, they were back—voting, making laws, reclaiming power.

Most devastatingly, Johnson ordered land returned to pardoned Southerners. Black families were forced to work the same land for the same owners who had enslaved them. America had a chance to make amends for centuries of enslavement and failed to take it.

The Violent Backlash

White Southerners refused to accept four million Black people integrating into society. In 1866, a Richmond journalist published "The Lost Cause," framing the Confederacy as noble protectors of Southern society against Northern aggression. This mythology gave devastated communities something to cling to—a belief their cause had been just.

Mississippi passed "Black Codes" designed to maintain slavery in all but name. Vagrancy laws required Black people to sign yearly labor contracts with white employers or face fines and forced labor. Children could be stolen from parents deemed unable to care for them.

The KKK emerged in Tennessee, functioning essentially as slave patrols. Black people who owned land, sent children to school, or simply existed while white neighbors struggled were attacked, run off their property, or killed. Every Black church and school was burned or destroyed. In New Orleans, a white mob killed 40 people. When the 39th Congress reconvened, they skipped over Southern state representatives entirely—not a single name from rebel states was called.

The Long Shadow

Though new Southern governments eventually ratified the 14th Amendment, and Black Americans briefly achieved remarkable political integration, white resistance never ceased. Jim Crow laws codified the violence into legal segregation.

The line from Reconstruction's failure to Mother Emanuel is direct. The same hatred that burned churches in the 1860s murdered worshippers in 2015. Understanding this history isn't about dwelling on the past—it's about recognizing how abandoned promises and unpunished violence created patterns that persist today.

AI Disclosure: After taking notes in Class over a video talking about how the Mother Emanual Massacre could be traced all the way back to the failures of reconstruction, I had AI expand on notes I took during the video to create the blog post you just read Enjoy!

The legacy of lynching: American Terrorism

 The history of lynching in America represents one of the darkest chapters in our nation's past, yet it remains essential to understanding the roots of contemporary racial inequalities. Between 1877 and 1950, over 4,400 Black Americans were killed by mob violence in a systematic campaign of terror designed to maintain white supremacy in the post-Civil War South.

The Promise and Betrayal of Reconstruction

To understand how lynching became so prevalent, we must first look at the Reconstruction era. From 1865 to 1877, the federal government attempted to integrate formerly enslaved people into American civic life. The 13th, 14th, and 15th Amendments abolished slavery, established citizenship, and protected voting rights. This period saw remarkable progress: approximately 2,000 Black Americans held public office, including 16 members of Congress. Black literacy rates tripled from 10% to 30%, and land ownership expanded as families built farms and businesses.

However, when federal troops withdrew from the South in 1877, white Southerners systematically dismantled these gains. Lynching emerged as their primary weapon.

The Scale of Terror

The numbers are staggering. At least 4,084 documented lynching's occurred in twelve Southern states alone, with Mississippi recording 581, Georgia 531, and Texas 493. The 1890s saw the highest frequency, averaging 161 lynching's per year. These figures represent only recorded cases—many killings in isolated areas went undocumented, meaning the true toll is likely much higher.

The alleged offenses varied widely. While some victims faced accusations of serious crimes, many were killed for minor social violations or simply being too economically successful. Historical records reveal that accusations were frequently fabricated or unproven. Victims never received trials, legal representation, or any form of due process.

Public Spectacles of Violence 

Lynching's weren't hidden crimes—they were performative acts of terrorism. Many attracted crowds of hundreds or thousands, sometimes announced in advance through newspapers. Photographs of these killings were sold as postcards well into the 1930s, revealing how socially acceptable this violence was considered.

The complicity of legal institutions compounds this horror. Law enforcement officers were present at roughly 10% of documented lynching's, with sheriffs often handing prisoners to mobs or refusing protection. Between 1900 and 1950, lynch mob participants were prosecuted in less than 1% of cases.

Lasting Impact

The effects extended far beyond individual victims. Lynching enforced Jim Crow laws and crushed Black political participation. In Louisiana, Black voter registration plummeted from 130,334 in 1896 to just 1,342 by 1904. Prosperous Black farmers and business owners were disproportionately targeted, their property frequently stolen afterward.

This terror directly caused the Great Migration. Between 1916 and 1970, approximately six million Black Americans fled the South for Northern, Midwestern, and Western cities, fundamentally reshaping American demographics and labor markets.

The Long Road to Justice

The legal response took an extraordinarily long time. Between 1882 and 2022, over 200 anti-lynching bills were introduced in Congress. Despite passing the House multiple times, Southern senators repeatedly blocked them through filibuster. Federal anti-lynching legislation didn't become law until March 2022—140 years later—when the Emmett Till Anti-Lynching Act finally designated lynching as a federal hate crime.

Why This History Matters Today

Understanding lynching isn't merely an academic exercise. Current research reveals connections between historical lynching rates and present-day disparities in wealth, education, and incarceration. The trauma experienced by these communities has been transmitted across generations.

This history explains how systematic violence created demographic patterns, economic inequalities, and institutional practices that continue shaping modern America. Recognizing these connections is crucial for addressing the racial disparities we still face today. Only by confronting this painful past honestly can we work toward a more equitable future.

AI Disclosure: After giving a 3 minute speech in class about the History of Lynching in the deep south. I had AI pull key points and facts that I presented in class, and turned them into the blog post you are reading now.