Monday made a statement.

It came and went in a unimposing manner, with no indication to its relative significance over any other day. The sun came up, the sun went down, and we all grew one day older. Quietly.

And yet, Monday had a voice.

It screamed of reminiscence, representing an anniversary that beckoned to be recognized and discussed.

Monday was loud. And we remained silent.

Monday, the nation observed Martin Luther King Jr. Day – a federal holiday dedicated to the celebration of the sterling legacy of service, leadership and sacrifice embodied by one of history’s most influential and significant change agents – 50 years after the civil rights efforts of the Birmingham, Ala., campaign.

In 1963, the powder keg that was racial injustice – formed at the hands of Jim Crowe, reconstruction and Plessy v. Ferguson – erupted in the South, with civil rights leaders heading the charge toward complete desegregation and racial equality. Students of this very University partook in sit-ins and other nonviolent forms of protest throughout the spring of 1963. But when, in Birmingham, Ala., the movement began to pick up steam, Public Safety Commissioner Eugene “Bull” Connor retaliated with a flurry of violent tactics, from fire hoses to attack dogs.

Connor’s reign of terror was widely publicized, and shock tore through the United States; images of helpless UA students being assailed entered many American living rooms and placed interest on the inequalities at hand.

This movement, the riots that ensued, and the following efforts toward equality eventually led to the Civil Rights Act and the Voting Rights Act, two of the most overdue pieces of legislation in our nation’s history.

One hundred years after the end of the Civil War, equality, at least on paper, had been achieved, loudly. Fifty years later, here we sit, silent.

One of the most hard fought battles in recent social history was forged 59 miles down the road from The University of Alabama. One of the most revered leaders and some of the most devoted activists in history waged war in our backyard, and in their memory, we can hardly lift a finger.

On our campus, there was little to no recognition of the events that transpired 50 years prior. Not only have we ignored the past and its significance, we have also disregarded history in the making: Monday also marked President Barack Obama’s second inauguration into the White House.

What passed on Monday was a perfect storm of past and present, of where we’ve been and where we’re going. It was a chance to open lines of communication around campus, a chance to identify pressure points that falter our community, and a chance to follow in King’s continual search for universal harmony.

The University, or at the very least some of the more prominent groups on campus, should have used this opportunity as a gateway to student unity and to further expand upon the dreams of King, to follow in his legacy and to continue to pursue all that he stood for in his name and in his honor.

Instead, the only hint of recognition came from the Martin Luther King Jr. Realizing the Dream Committee through their commendable efforts to follow in the King’s footsteps and to celebrate this holiday throughout various universities in Alabama.

But their efforts should not stand alone, nor should our recognition be singularly faceted.

Martin Luther King Jr. once said, “In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.”

Monday made a statement. We didn’t make a peep.

Maxton Thoman is a freshman majoring in biology. His column runs biweekly on Tuesdays.