I want to begin this column by clarifying that I very much acknowledge the South’s racist and oppressive history. I also acknowledge the deep scars it left that endure to this day, and hope that, as a society, we can continue to make progress toward healing. I am not convinced, however, that the best way to do this is eliminating every trace of Dixie: be it in statues, a line in the alma mater, or any other reference.
Many Americans often equate symbols of Southern heritage with racism and hate. When they think of the South they think of slavery. Alternatively, many Southerners see these symbols in an entirely different light. To them these symbols stand for a culture that puts great emphasis on being polite, helping your neighbor, speaking with grace and tact, having a sense of honor and embracing a strong individual work ethic.
There seems to be a discrepancy as to what these Southern symbols truly stand for. Do they stand for the values I just listed, or do they embody the South’s racist and discriminatory past? I am not dismissing the racist history of the South and their connection to some of these symbols, nor am I in any way insinuating that neo-Nazis or white supremacists, who want to keep these symbols for racist purposes are “good people.”
I am just stating the fact that there are a lot of people who genuinely see something entirely different in these symbols; they view these symbols as an homage to their heritage and Southern culture.
Blind accusations of racism and condemning a group because they want to keep a statue or symbol in their society that they believe embodies their culture and traditions immediately puts many Southerners on the defensive. When they are being dismissed as racists simply for honoring their Southern heritage, you lose their ear on issues that could actually start to address problems of poverty and racism.
I grew up in a small town in Eastern North Carolina that was about as Southern as it gets. This is a place where birthdays, engagement parties and the Fourth of July are celebrated with pig pickin’s, where Sunday mornings are set aside for church, where talking to a stranger in public is welcomed, where “yes ma’am, no ma’am” and “yes sir, no sir” are the only acceptable ways to address an adult.
There is a deep sense of community that is unique to small Southern towns like these. There are countless examples I can think of where my community came together to share both times of celebration and times of sadness. Personally, when I think of what growing up in the South meant to me, that’s what comes to mind.
I grew up around all sorts of Confederate symbols, but everyone I knew who possessed these had them simply because they were proud of the area they were from. Sure, many of these symbols have racist histories, but that’s certainly not what most people who cherish them today see in them. Also, if our goal is to eliminate all symbols that could be tied to historical oppression, then we’re going to have to go far beyond just things tied to Dixie.
Take, for example, statues of Christopher Columbus and our national holiday that memorializes him. Christopher Columbus killed, raped and enslaved countless natives. Yet there’s no broad movement to rename the city of Columbus, Ohio. Andrew Jackson was directly responsible for the atrocity that became known as the Trail of Tears. Oddly enough, I’ve never seen anyone protesting his statue outside of the North Carolina Capitol Building.
Even the American flag could be said to represent the history of the annihilation of millions of native people, white supremacy or the disenfranchisement of women. To me, these historical symbols simply depict history — both the good and bad. We should learn from the bad and cherish the good.
Personally, I’d like to see statues outside the State Capitol that depict both Civil War History as well as Civil Rights History (perhaps a statue of the young men from the Greensboro Woolworth’s sit-in would be appropriate). There’s certainly a well-substantiated argument to be made that we should better represent the history and struggles of people of color, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t depict Civil War history as well.
I am not trying to glorify every aspect of Southern history or culture, and I have certainly heard no shortage of racist sentiments in my lifetime. The more I have traveled outside of my hometown, however, the more I realize racism is a much larger problem that is in no way unique to the South.
I will never forget a conversation I overheard between two Europeans while in Italy. In English, one of them said, “I hate black people don’t you?” The other replied with, “Oh yes, I think everybody does.” I couldn’t help but turn around with a look of absolute shock and disgust, and I quickly learned Europe isn’t quite the enlightened utopia I had heard about.
My friend, a proud Southerner who went to a Northern university, also often talks about the first exchange he had with a Northerner in the dorm room next to him when he first arrived at school. When they heard his accent, the first comment they made was “You’re from the South, you must hate [a racial slur too vile to publish] too then.” His response? “No, and that’s an atrocious thing to say.”
Clearly, racism is a problem far larger than the South or its history. As such, addressing this problem by focusing on the South and symbols of its history is akin to shoveling water out of the sinking Titanic with a bucket. Modern racism is very much alive, and needs to be addressed, but eliminating all traces of Dixie will not only fail to adequately address the problem, it will distract us from more impactful efforts.
Almost every liberal friend I have on Facebook has had something to say about Confederate statues. Very few of them, however, have had anything to say about issues regarding the importance of public education: the only chance we have of getting anywhere close to creating equality of opportunity for children of all colors and backgrounds.
I also have seen very few of them post about our nation’s desperate need for criminal justice reform and the immense failing of the war on drugs: both of which disproportionately affect African-Americans. If they got to know most people who proudly display symbols of Southern heritage, they’d probably come to realize that most of these people have no desire to oppress people of color; they are simply expressing that they’re proud of where they’re from.
Most importantly, they’d probably realize that most people (black, white or brown; Democrat or Republican) are primarily worried about putting food on the table and ensuring their kids have a bright future. To solve our nations problems, we need to start working together to create a strong economy that works for everyone and bettering the educational and career opportunities for children of all backgrounds. Every debate we have about a statue or a word in a song is a distraction from this and alienates good people who desperately need to be engaged in this conversation.
Instead of working toward policies that unite us and working towards a brighter future, much of the American political left has devolved into a police force of political correctness that is just as divisive and ignorant as the anti-intellectual, fear-mongering politics of the far right. It’s time to start trying to figure out how to best help the circumstances of those in need, no matter their color, and stop engaging in a mind-numbing culture war that will soon be the downfall of America.