Racist, Born and Bred

I am a racist.  I was born into it and have been enmeshed in it for decades.  I don’t mean that I assume bad things about people who look different from me nor that I believe I am inherently superior to them.  Buuuuuuut, deep down there is a kernel of something that disputes that.  It isn’t conscious or a belief that I share because it isn’t one that I actually truly buy into.  I support the Black Lives Matter movement, I believe in equality, and I grew up in an environment where I as a white male was actually in the minority.  I am working to address the issues that have been bred into me, by the people I grew up around and the time I was born in.  I have made many mistakes along the way and I am sure I am continuing to make some along the way.  I want my children to grow up in a society that values people, period.  Not based on their background, their skin color, or anything that is part of their identity.  I recognize that until everyone in society begins to buy into those ideals that we may not be able to get there.  However, if I can raise my children to have open minds and to value people then maybe they can make a stand for a classmate or friend who is in some way different from them and call another person on their own closedmindedness.

I was born in the late 70’s in an area of metro Atlanta.  We lived near Stone Mountain which for those who are unfamiliar is a large piece of exposed granite with a carving of famous Civil War generals on it.  Stone Mountain was a place that had all kinds of fun for a kid, a train to ride, a gondola that took you to the top of the mountain, the ability to walk up the mountain, a museum with a gift shop (filled with all the Civil War memorabilia a kid could ever want), and maybe the thing I remember the most the Laser Show they held every summer night.  They shone lasers on the mountain set to music and voice tracks and it was super entertaining, especially for a kid.  As the Laser Show came to an end every time it was a presentation set to Elvis Presley’s “American Trilogy” which prominently features “Dixie” and played over images of General Robert E. Lee breaking his sword over his knee to cheers from the crowd, just before the fireworks (real, not lasers) began.  These images are burned into my mind.  Robert E. Lee was clearly a hero, someone who decided to end a war dividing a nation, and he had been memorialized in this laser light show in addition to on the carving on the mountain.

As a young boy, I believed the confederacy was just part of my identity.  I believed that these were good men and they fought for the South, where I lived.  I recall buying a confederate battle flag in the gift shop.  I owned the “Stars and Bars” before I owned a US flag (which I also got in the same gift shop later so I could recreate the Civil War in the comfort of my own home).  I had no clue about the story behind the Civil War, nor how the flag I thought was representative of me and where I was from had been wholly coopted by hate groups.  Further, I never knew that one of those hate groups, the Ku Klux Klan had strong ties to this big rock that so many of my childhood memories were tied to.  I won’t go into all of it, but I suggest googling “KKK and Stone Mountain”.  As I sit here, more than 30 years removed from some of those earliest (and fondest) childhood memories, they all feel so tainted and I feel this odd mixture upon reflection (not dissimilar to growing up watching the Cosby Show, but that’s another story I will talk about later). 

Furthering my “I love the Confederate flag” upbringing around this time, the TV show “The Dukes of Hazzard” was airing and originally was filmed not far from Stone Mountain.  This show featured cousins who drove a badass car with MY FLAG! On the roof and it was called “the General Lee”.  This only codified how great the Confederacy was and what a great man this Lee guy must have been to me.  My Dukes of Hazzard merchandise collection was significant, and I loved the show watching it in syndication well into adulthood.  In fact, in college I found a couple of models of the car that I bought and displayed proudly.  This car was one of the three most identifiable vehicles from my childhood (the other two being KITT from Knight Rider, and the van from the A-Team).  In full transparency, had someone given me a working General Lee, I would have proudly driven it and loved it until fairly recently.  I was blind to the impact of the name and the flag purely by my nostalgia and upbringing.  The flag was not a symbol of hate to me, it was a symbol of happy times and fond memories of childhood.

While also in college there was a movement to change the Georgia state flag.  As the one I had known that featured the flag I believed was a symbol of ME was being taken down, I bought one because I had known it for 20+ years and didn’t want to lose this part of my heritage.  I also had a belt buckle that featured this flag as well as some facts about the Civil War on the back.  I displayed and wore these items proudly and without malice or irony.  Writing that now makes me cringe, because oof what a knob I was.  I didn’t see how these things had been hurtful to others nor understand the background of why the Georgia state flag was adopted (TL: DR to celebrate being racist essentially as the Civil Rights movement took place).  Within a couple of years the flag and the belt buckle were put away as I began to see they were hurtful symbols.  I saw people say the confederate flag was about “heritage not hate” and I felt that, partially because I wanted to allay my own mixed feelings because I had felt such a love for this symbol and also because I knew my heart.  However, as I have often been told we do not get to choose between intent and impact.  My intent has nothing to do with the impact.  Beyond my control and ultimately the thing that completely destroys that argument for heritage is the wide use of this exact symbol by multiple hate groups not least of which is the KKK.  If this was a heritage symbol, those of us who truly believe and feel that should have been standing up in opposition verbally and physically opposing its use in these environments where our privilege would allow us to tread without immediate repercussions.  To my knowledge, that has never happened.  We have been complicit with the use of this flag as a hate symbol, so we cannot claim its heritage.  For those unfamiliar, at one point the Swastika was widely used and was not a symbol that called to mind hate.  The use of the that symbol by the Nazi’s and the hate associated with it now mean that the symbol is forever tarnished and as such is banned in many places.  This is how we need to treat the flags of the Confederacy.  As white people, we need to let them go.  I value history and I find the Civil War fascinating, but we can no longer celebrate this.  We can never forget this part of our history, so we should have a place where we can choose to go and see these statues or paintings that represent this period in our history.  Honestly, I believe the admission for the “Confederate museums” should be given to organizations or movements devoted to equality.  Don’t destroy this piece of history, because we should never forget our mistakes.  Rather, make it something that people can choose to see or avoid based on their personal stance.  Use these places as a force for good, using the money to work to correct the wrongs that have been perpetuated by the use of this symbol and those associated with it.

I could probably write an entire book about this, but I want this to be more digestible to read, so I will wrap up here.  I have in later adulthood throw away the belt buckle and both flags I referenced here.  I have recognized the hatred associated with them and made the choice to dispose of them as part of my commitment to getting and doing better.  I am still struggling with how to handle my two Dukes of Hazzard cars I own.  I loved the car and the show and have such a strong positive emotional bond to both but recognize that keeping these is problematic.  I do not display these proudly, rather they are tucked away in a mixture of shame and nostalgia coexisting.  I am reading and consuming content created by those who look different than me and trying to understand experiences that are different than my own.  There are moments I am convicted in my own choices in my past and times where I feel my soul hurts to see the experiences that many endured literally within the generation before mine.  I want to believe we have made progress, but some days it feels like we are rapidly backtracking and eliminating all of the good that has been done.  I want us to continue to move forward and improve as a society and that is my motivation for sharing this.