I find celebrating MLK Day to be just another day in my life. Since graduating from college in 1992, I’ve dedicated my life to teaching math and science to mostly nonwhite populations, starting with my Peace Corps assignment in Tanzania. Additionally, I read books about African American history, current events and participate in African diaspora culture throughout the year.
Yet, for this snapshot of one weekend where the national focus is a concentration on the African American phenomenon, both our struggles and triumphs in the US, I danced for nearly three and a half hours in four different African-inspired genres of dance classes, spoke of my international experience of wearing dreads at an open mic, and texted friends and family, “Happy MLK Day! Be sure to hug a black person.”
As a result of the latter activity, I received updates from two older friends who are recovering from surgery, got several virtual hugs, and one laugh-out-loud response from a friend, who joked about the possibility of being arrested for hugging a random black person at Home Depot.
I strutted into my bikram yoga studio and wished the instructor a Happy MLK Day and followed up with asking her if she’d hugged a black person yet. She said no, but enthusiastically came around from the front desk to receive a hug and the receptionist followed suit. I ended up hugging six people.
Hugs can be as meaningful as the giver. I often marvel at how small changes in one’s behavior produce big changes in the long run. If you ever want to know the power of hug, all you to do is hug someone who has not received human touch in a while. Or hug someone you don’t normally hug. I’ve never celebrated MLK Day in this manner, but after the positive reception I’ve received, I think I’ll incorporate it in my yearly observation.