National Civil Rights Museum Op-Ed
Dr. Russ Wigginton, President
For the past two years, a fence has surrounded the Legacy side of the National Civil Rights Museum campus. What began as a necessary safety barrier for construction and renovation became, over time, a powerful symbol of disconnection—physically and figuratively.
For museum staff and passersby alike, the fence has taken a toll. It has obstructed the clear view from Main Street to the balcony of Room 306. It has blocked foot traffic and pedestrian access along Mulberry Street. And perhaps most poignantly, it has given many the mistaken impression that the museum itself was closed.
Beyond those fences, however, the Museum remained vibrant. Guests continued to be moved by the Lorraine exhibits. Dialogue and discovery never stopped. Yet even in the fullness of our mission, something remained missing—the open connection to our city, to our neighbors, and to that sacred public visibility that reminds people they’re welcome here.
Soon the fences are coming down.
And with their removal comes renewed possibility. BlueCross Healthy Place at Founders Park will soon open as a communal space for reflection, expression, and joy. We’re eager to reconnect—to share space, to honor history, and to invite everyone to take part in shaping what comes next.
There’s an old saying: “Fences make good neighbors.” But we’ve come to see the double edge of that truth. While walls may define boundaries, they can also divide hearts. When we wall off one another—whether in fear, apathy, or power—we lose the full humanity of community.
From border walls that deny immigrants access to opportunity, to bureaucratic walls that isolate communities from resources, to ideological walls that prevent us from hearing one another, we’ve built too many barriers. And too few bridges.
Obstacles keep us from seeing what’s possible. They obscure vision. They restrict movement. And they limit the freedom we all strive for. A closed hand cannot receive. A closed heart cannot fully love. A walled-off community cannot know justice.
As we prepare to welcome visitors into the new Founders Park and the renovated Legacy Building, we choose something different. We choose openness. We choose belonging. We choose the hard work of togetherness over the easy retreat of separation.
Dr. King once asked us to decide between chaos and community. Today, as the fences come down, we lean into community—boldly, intentionally, and with hope.