🚧 “Walls, Warnings, and Witnessing Change” Germany | June 2025 🚧

 

🚧 Blog Post 1: Berlin

Berlin is a city that knows how to hold pain and possibility in the same breath. On the surface, it’s edgy, modern, and full of life — from punk Elmos on street corners to people of every background living their truths. But beneath all that is a deep, complicated history that never really lets go.

Before this trip, I thought I understood the Berlin Wall. I’ve seen documentaries, read articles, even watched Reagan say, “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!” But standing there — hand on concrete, eyes tracing the cracks — was different. The wall wasn’t just stone and steel. It was a line drawn through families, ideologies, lives.

That gold plaque quoting Reagan’s speech? Gave me chills. I geeked out seeing it in person, especially with the U.S. Embassy right nearby. The symbolism wasn’t lost on me — division, unity, and diplomacy, all colliding in one space.

I also learned something small but oddly poetic: Berlin means “swamp land.” And yet, here it is — a city once soaked in hate now blooming with diversity. I saw Black folks, Asians, Indians, artists, musicians, and tourists from every corner of the world. It felt like poetic justice in motion. The same city Hitler tried to purify now celebrates difference.

Berlin is a contradiction: sleek cafés next to Cold War bunkers. A city of punk cafés and halal groceries. One that refuses to let history fade, even as it reinvents itself.

✊🏾 Martin Luther King Jr. in Berlin — A Moment That Floored Me

One of the most emotional moments for me was learning that Martin Luther King Jr. visited East Berlin in 1964. Not West — East. During the Cold War. That blew me away.

He crossed the border, spoke in packed churches (despite the visit only being spread by word of mouth), and delivered words that hit like thunder:

“No man-made barrier can erase the fact that God’s children live on both sides of the Wall.”

The congregation responded by singing spirituals — including “Let My People Go.” That hit me hard.

Dr. King didn’t just bring the civil rights message to Berlin — he reminded people of their dignity and humanity in a divided world. That moment made me feel seen as a Black woman on this trip. Like my story wasn’t so far removed from the stories we were there to honor.

📸 Checkpoint Charlie: Capitalism Meets Cold War

Another moment that stuck with me was visiting Checkpoint Charlie — the infamous crossing between East and West Berlin. I’ve seen the photos, but being there? Surreal. The sign that reads, “You are leaving the American sector” still gives off Cold War chills.

In front of the checkpoint is a photo of an American soldier on one side and a Russian soldier on the other. That haunting stare, frozen in time — it made history feel alive.

What threw me, though, was the surrounding street. McDonald’s. KFC. Souvenir shops. It felt almost disrespectful, like history was being repackaged and sold. And while I did want a picture in front of Checkpoint Charlie, the line was absolute chaos. No thanks. I took a mental photo instead — one I won’t forget.

🎨 The Berlin Wall: A Canvas of Survival and Protest

The East Side Gallery is what happens when you turn oppression into expression. The Berlin Wall now serves as a public art gallery — a massive stretch of murals, each one loud with meaning. Some of my favorite pieces were:

      •     “Diagonal Solution of the Problem” by Mikhail Serebryakov, a raised thumb chained in place. A powerful commentary on forced optimism after German reunification.

      •     “Mauern International” by Alexei Taranin, which pointed out walls across the world — ironic, considering he originally painted mating rabbits, but the gallery rejected that.

      •     “How’s God? She’s Black.” A blunt piece of graffiti with no listed artist. Simple. Bold. Unapologetic. It said what needed to be said.

🌆 The Erasure of Hitler’s Berlin

What’s wild is that Hitler’s bunker? Gone. No museum, no shrine, not even a statue. Just a street with modern apartments and a small sign that was just only put up to talk about it. That felt… right. Germany made a conscious decision not to immortalize the man who caused so much pain.

And honestly? I respect that. It’s the opposite of what some other countries (ahem, America) do. Not everything needs a monument. Sometimes, the absence is the statement.

⸻

Final Thoughts from Berlin

Berlin taught me that memory isn’t just something we hold — it’s something we shape. It’s the plaques we put up, the silence we allow, the walls we keep or tear down.

This city doesn’t pretend to have it all figured out, but it does one thing right: it remembers. Messily. Honestly. Unflinchingly.

Coming here reminded me that history isn’t just a chapter in a book — it’s the ground beneath our feet.