In Season

Let me start by saying that I don’t have a problem with the removal of statues of Confederate military and political figures and related symbols of the Old South. To everything there is a season, and that season is here. .

You may hear a “but” coming. Let’s stipulate, as the lawyers say, that I’m using the word because I’m white, but there’s a little more to it.

I guess what concerns me is the level of demonization in the air. Pulling down statues doesn’t seem like enough for some people. Those who were on those pedestals are called losers and traitors. By extension, that means those whose culture honors them as well.

I wonder if every Confederate general fought in the Civil War specifically to preserve slavery. How about the average foot soldier, who died at Shiloh or Antietam? When he charged to his death, screaming the Rebel yell, was it  in the name of slavery? More likely, he was fighting for his home, his family, and his way of life, which indeed had been built on slavery. That part was probably not top-of-mind for him. Maybe that made it even worse.

I am not apologizing for anyone here. What I am saying is that by raising fists and shouting in someone’s face that their culture is built on a falsehood is not apt to instantly change a mind.

Black people may say, we’ve been waiting 400 years for white people to get it, and we’re out of patience. But changing hearts and minds takes time, as wars have taught us. A natural solution is for those incapable of change to die off. But the living will have to be persuaded. For them, it’s not an epiphany but a process. Change is not impossible. George Wallace, one of the most virulent Southern racists of the last century, did come to the light in later life. It just took him a while.

There are many wrongs to be righted, and Black people are not the only victims. But speaking just for myself, repeatedly telling me that I owe something to someone for centuries of oppression won’t work. I’m not into guilt trips.

When it comes to righting wrongs, the Founding Fathers, flawed as we now understand they were, did manage to leave us pretty good road maps for cleaning up the messes we’re in, like the Declaration of Independence. This and other iconic documents of that era contain what we really should be honoring this time of year. In the end, the people on pedestals and the names on buildings are secondary. Let’s read those road maps and follow them. They will take us where we need to go.