Indivisible 45 held a Good Trouble candlelight vigil on Thursday, July 17, to honor the “national day of nonviolent action” on the fifth anniversary of the death of Rep. John Lewis, D-Georgia. The phrase Good Trouble was coined by Lewis, a leader of the Civil Rights Movement, to explain the action of coming together to take peaceful, nonviolent action to challenge injustice and create meaningful change.

Speech by John Lewis: ‘You must find a way to get into trouble, good trouble’, Emory University – 2014

“This is your day. Enjoy it. Be happy. Just be happy, have a little fun. Smile. You look good. You look beautiful, handsome. Did anyone else tell you that you really look good?

“And let me just tell you for a moment, I didn’t grow up in a big city like Decatur. I didn’t grow up in a big city like Snellville. I didn’t grow up in a big city like, uh, Buffalo or Chicago or New York or Los Angeles. Or Atlanta. I grew up in rural Alabama, 50 miles from Montgomery, outside of a little place called Troy. My father was a sharecropper, an itinerant farmer, but back in 1944, when I was only four years old, my father had saved $300. And with the $300, he bought 110 acres of land. My family still own that land today. How many of you remember when you were four? Now what happened to the rest of us?

“It was many, many years ago, when we would visit the little town of Troy, visit Montgomery visit Tuskegee visit Birmingham, I saw those signs that said ‘white men, coloured men’, ‘white women, coloured women,’ ‘white waiting, coloured waiting.’ I would come home and ask my mother, my father, my grandparents, my great-grandparents, ‘Why?’. And they would say, ‘That’s the way it is. Don’t get in the way, don’t get in trouble! But one day in 1955, 15 years old in the 10th grade, I heard about Rosa Parks. I heard the words of Martin Luther King Jr on our radio. In 1957, I met Rosa Parks at the age of 17. In 1958, at the age of 18, I met Martin Luther King Jr, and these two individuals inspired me to get in the way, to get in trouble. So I come here to say to you this morning, on this beautiful campus, with your great education, you must find a way to get in the way. You must find a way to get in trouble. Good trouble. Necessary trouble.

Use your education. You have wonderful teachers, wonderful professors, and researchers. Use what you have. Use your learning. Use your tools. To help make our country and make our world a better place where no one would be left out or left behind. You can do it and you must do it. It is your time.

In a few short days, we will commemorate what we call the Mississippi Summer Project, when more than a thousand students from all over America, many from abroad, made a trip to Mississippi to encourage people to register to vote. And on the summer night of June 21st, 1964, three young men that I know, two whites and one African American, Nick sprinter, Andy Goodman, and James Chaney, went out to investigate the burning of an African American church that was used for a voter registration workshop. These three young men were detained by the sheriff, taken to jail, taken out of jail, turned over to the Klan, where they were beaten, shot, and killed. And I tell students today, these three young men didn’t die in Vietnam. They didn’t die in the Middle East or Eastern Europe. They didn’t die in Africa, or in Central, or South America. They died right here in our own country, trying to help all of our citizens become participants in the democratic process.

As young people, you must understand that there are forces that wanna take us back to another period, but you must say that we’re not going back. We made too much progress and we are going forward.
There may be some setbacks, some delays, some disappointment, but you must never ever give up, or give in. You must keep the faith and keep your eyes on the prize that is your calling, that is your mission, that is your moral obligation, that is your mandate. Get out there and do it get in the way!

In the final analysis, we all must learn to live together as brothers and sisters, not just in America, but around the world. I want to tell you one little story. I told you I wouldn’t be long. You know, I got arrested a few times during the sixties, 40 times, with an attorney, Ben Johnson, and my great friend, President Beverly Tatum. I’m honoured to be honoured with these two wonderful people, all the charges were dropped and dismissed.

But since I’ve been in Congress and young people ask me, How can you be in Congress, you’ve been arrested so many times. Been arrested since I’ve been in Congress, five more times.

And, I may get arrested again.
The last time I got arrested was trying to say to the Congress, we need to pass comprehensive immigration reform and set people in a path to citizenship. It’s the right thing to do
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It doesn’t make sense that we live in our country, we live in a society where more than 12 million people are living in the shadow, living in fear. That is not right. That is not fair. And that is not just, and you must get in the way and find a way to make the way outta no way.

When I was growing up outside of Troy, Alabama, I had an aunt by the name of Sineva and my Aunt Sineva lived in what we call a ‘shotgun house.’ I know as Emory students, soon to graduate, you have never seen a shotgun house. You don’t even know what I’m talking about. My aunt Sineva didn’t have a green manicured lawn she had a simple plain dirt yard. And sometimes at night, you can look up through the holes in the ceiling, the holes in the tin roof and count the stars. And when it rained, she would get a pail, a bucket or a tub and catch the rain water.

But if you really want to know what a shotgun house looks like in a nonviolence sense, it’s an old house, one way in one way out, where you can bounce a basketball through the front door and it will go straight out the back door. My Aunt Sienva lived in a shotgun house. From time to time, she would walk out into the woods and cut branches from a Dogwood tree, tie these branches together, and make what she called a ‘brush broom’. And she would sweep the dirt yard very clean, sometimes two or three times a week, but especially on a Friday or Saturday, because she wanted that dirt yard to look good during the weekend.
One Saturday afternoon, a group of my brothers and sisters and a few of my first cousins were out playing in my Aunt Sineva’s dirt yard. And an unbelievable storm came up. The wind started blowing. The thunder started rolling. That lightning started flashing and the rain started beating on the tin roof of this old shotgun house. My aunt became terrified. She started crying. She thought this whole house was going to blow away. When it appeared that one corner of the house was going to blow away, my aunt had us all hold hands and walk to that side, to try to hold the house down with our little bodies. When another corner appeared to be lifting, she had us walk to that side. We were little children walking with the wind, but we never left the house. I said to you, as you leave here, leave this beautiful campus.

The wind may blow. The thunder may roll, the lightning may flash, and the rain may beat on our old house. Call it a house of Emory, call it a house of Georgia or Alabama or New York. Call it a house of Europe. Call it a house of Africa. Call it a house of Asia. Of central or south America. Call it a house of the Middle East. We all live in the same house, and it doesn’t matter whether we are black or white, Latino, Asian American, or native American.

It doesn’t matter if we are straight or gay. We are one people. We are one family. We all live in the same house.

Be bold. Be courageous, stand up, speak out, and find a way to create the beloved community. The beloved world. A world of peace that recognises the dignity of all humankind. Never become bitter, never become hostile, never hate. Live in peace. We are one people, united by one love.