Why I Couldn't Share 'The Color Purple' with My Mother: A Reflection on Civil Rights

The following content was written by Rev. William J. Barber, II, the director of Yales Center for Public Theology and Public Policy and president of Repairers of the Breach, a non-profit organization dedicated to building and supporting moral movements for social change. He previously served as president of the North Carolina NAACP and as a member of the National NAACP Board of Directors. The views expressed in this commentary are his own. To read more opinions, visit CNN.

I treated my 90-year-old mother to a showing of "The Color Purple" in Greenville, North Carolina, the day after Christmas. This outing was a special gift to my mother, who is set to receive North Carolina's highest honor for public service this coming weekend for her efforts in integrating public schools in the state during the 1960s.

William J. Barber II

CNN

The movie outing was a special gift, considering I don't know how much longer I'll have with my mother. Being back home in eastern North Carolina and getting to watch the movie together was a precious time. Unfortunately, our plans were ruined when the local AMC theater manager decided to call the police instead of accommodating my disability.

I have been living with ankylosing spondylitis, a form of arthritis, for over 30 years. Using two canes to walk and needing a tall chair due to a fused hip, I was once disabled by this disease. I faced serious depression and feared being confined to a nursing home bed for the rest of my life. However, with the support of my mother, doctors, therapists, swim coaches, and prayer warriors, I learned to adapt to my physical limitations and find a new way to navigate the world.

Reflecting on it now, I realize that my public ministry has been deeply influenced by my awareness of the vulnerable, a perspective I may never have grasped if I hadn't experienced vulnerability firsthand.

Bishop William Barber, 60, stated at a press conference on Friday that the confrontation over seating at a North Carolina movie theater should not have escalated. He also claimed that the incident was a violation of his 14th amendment rights.

Civil rights leader alleges that AMC workers disregarded his disability when they ejected him from a movie theater in North Carolina. Currently, I instruct students at Yale Divinity School who are preparing for ministry. I emphasize the importance of understanding the Bible, theology, history, and pastoral practice in order to effectively carry out the ministry of Jesus. Additionally, I stress the significance of paying attention to the marginalized and vulnerable in society as an integral part of following Jesus. In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus states, "Whatever you did to the least of these, you did it unto me." According to theology, if the image of God is in every person, then excluding any individual means missing a part of the truth about God.

This is not just a Christian value; it is a fundamental principle of America's democratic experiment. The ideals of freedom and equality rely on a shared dedication to allowing every voice to be heard - a democratic practice that necessitates adaptations for individuals with disabilities.

While it took centuries for the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) to be enacted, it expanded upon the 14th amendment's guarantee of equal protection under the law to ensure public accommodations for all individuals under Title III. The United States does not provide these accommodations solely in response to the demands of activists. Rather, we are committed to it as a nation because we believe that our society is enriched by the contributions of those who might otherwise be excluded.

On June 23, 2021, Bishop William J. Barber II addressed the crowd at the Moral March on Manchin and McConnell, a rally organized by the Poor Peoples Campaign. The event took place outside the Supreme Court in Washington and aimed to urge the elimination of the legislative filibuster and the passing of the "For The People" voting rights bill. (Photo by Caroline Brehman/CQ-Roll Call, Inc via Getty Images)

Caroline Brehman/CQ-Roll Call, Inc/Getty Images

AMC Theatres apologizes after civil rights leader says he was kicked out of a North Carolina movie theater

When the AMC theater manager told me I couldn't use my chair, not a wheelchair, to participate in public life, I didn't challenge her just because I wanted to see a movie with my mother. I challenged her because I have taken this chair to lecture halls and pulpits across the country, to meetings at the White House and on Capitol Hill. If I can't sit in my chair at a theater in Greenville, North Carolina, then I know thousands of other people will be excluded from public spaces in this nation. And I know what that feels like, not being able to join my family for an outing or attend a meeting because a space is not accessible.

This is why I couldn't just leave when the theater manager said they couldn't accommodate my disability. I was relieved to hear from AMC's CEO, Adam Aron, who apologized on behalf of the company and made plans to travel to North Carolina to meet with me.

I'm upset that my mother and I didn't have the opportunity to experience "The Color Purple" together. However, I strongly believe that democracy relies on a dedication to progress as a united community. I don't want this to be about a mistake made by a manager or my own disappointment. Instead, I want it to be about all of us recognizing the importance of including people who may need special accommodations to participate in public activities. I hope to see new policies, training, and a renewed corporate commitment so that whenever any American sees "AMC," they can be assured that it stands for "Accommodates Me with Courtesy."

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Upon leaving the theater, my mother expressed her frustration, questioning why people can't simply be decent. I am not ashamed of my disability, but I am ashamed that, during a time of war, poverty, and other real challenges in the world, some would choose to use their power to deny a disabled person a reasonable accommodation.

In the face of such inhumanity, some may easily despair, fearing that America's experiment in multiethnic democracy is coming apart at the seams. However, when I confront despair, I think back to that hospital bed where I felt alone and hopeless, and remember what I've learned from my own experience: when we come together, there is a power greater than any of us can imagine that can find a way out of no way. This isn't only true in our personal lives; it is the good news we need in our politics as well. When the broken and rejected unite and demand to be heard, there is power to bring life back to a democracy that some may consider beyond repair.

I cling to this hope, which led me to pray for the AMC manager and the police she called on me this week. This hope continues to fuel my fight for the soul of American democracy as we approach 2024.