In 1931, in Alabama, an accusatory word from a white woman could cost a Black boy his life. Nine boys learned this when the train stopped in Scottsboro.
On March 25, 1931, nine Black youths, ages 13–20, were accused of raping two white women on a freight train. They were arrested within hours. Trials began almost immediately, with all‑white juries and a mob at the courthouse. Eight were sentenced to death. The 13‑year‑old’s jury deadlocked on whether to execute a child, resulting in a mistrial (the vote was 11 to 1).
There was no credible evidence.
Doctors found no signs of rape.
Witnesses gave contradictory testimony.
Ruby Bates, one of the accusers, recanted in 1933, admitting no rape occurred.
Yet in the Jim Crow South, truth was not enough to save a Black life.
When the Supreme Court Wasn’t Enough
In 1932, the U.S. Supreme Court overturned the convictions in Powell v. Alabama, ruling the boys had been denied proper legal counsel.
In 1935, in Norris v. Alabama, the Court declared that systematically excluding Black jurors violated the 14th Amendment.
But Alabama ignored the spirit of those rulings and retried the boys. Eight were convicted again and given death or 75‑year sentences. None were executed, but some languished in prison into the 1950s.
The message to Black America was unmistakable:
Truth alone cannot protect you. You must stay vigilant.
“Stay Woke” Was a Survival Code
In 1938, blues legend Huddie “Lead Belly” Ledbetter recorded a song about the Scottsboro Boys. After singing, he issued a chilling warning to Black listeners:
“I advise everybody, be a little careful when they go along through there—best stay woke, keep their eyes open.”
This was not a simple metaphor.
“Staying woke” meant staying alive. It meant carrying the weight of awareness in a world where ignorance was deadly.
From Survival to Moral Courage
I have led the privileged life of a white male. I do not know what it is to live with the fear that “woke” once symbolized.
But I do know that wokeness evolved into a form of moral courage:
In the 1960s, it meant consciousness of systemic racism.
It was alive on March 7, 1965, when John Lewis and Hosea Williams led 600 men and women across Selma’s Edmund Pettus Bridge, facing tear gas and billy clubs on Bloody Sunday.
Wakefulness had become not only a survival skill, but a spiritual stance—a refusal to sleep through injustice.
The Modern Backlash
Fast forward to today.In 2025, a billionaire white man has vowed to “eradicate wokeness from the planet,” as if awareness itself is a contagious and fatal disease.
The message is the same as it was in 1931:
Stay quiet.
Stop noticing.
Do not disturb the comfort of those in power.
It is the ethos of Jim Crow dressed in modern language.
What John Lewis Might Tell Us Now
If John Lewis were here today, I believe he would say:
*“Do not sleep. Do not let them shame you for seeing what is real. We faced billy clubs and tear gas for daring to be awake. They called us agitators then, and today they call you woke. Wear your wakefulness as a badge of honor.
Wakefulness is your first act of courage.
Getting in good and necessary trouble is the second.
Justice is the dream we stay awake for.”*
The courage to stay awake is the courage to keep our country honest and humane. To notice. To refuse to close our eyes when it would be easier, safer, and quieter to sleep.
Has there ever been a time when you had to choose to see what was real and speak up? I would love to hear your story - leave a comment below.