In the aftermath of the recent tragedy in Charleston, the Confederate Battle Flag is in the news again, with renewed calls to remove the flag from the South Carolina state house and several national retailers, including Amazon, saying they will no longer sell merchandise bearing the banner. In pondering this issue, I find I am of two minds. On one hand, I support the removal of the flag from the South Carolina state house, and state houses nationwide. On the other, I believe the decision to stop selling merchandise bearing the flag is short-sighted, and is a decision we will ultimately regret.
Removing the Confederate Battle Flag from South Carolina's (and other) state houses is a move that is long overdue. Supporters of the flag have long claimed that the flag is not about hate, that it is a symbol of Southern pride and heritage. Maybe it started out that way, but the truth is, right or wrong, it has been hijacked by hate groups such as the KKK and other white supremacist groups. It is the symbol that flew over the Jim Crow South while blacks were denied basic human rights, while black churches were bombed and while an unknown number of innocent blacks were lynched. It is the symbol of a failed nation -- the Confederacy -- that fought for state's rights, yes, but that also fought to maintain an economy that was based largely on the subjugation and abuse of an entire race. It's no wonder that blacks still find the flag offensive. The Civil War may be long over, but the truth is, blacks were still being treated as subhuman as recently as 50 years ago. That's not something you get over quickly, if ever. So the flag should be removed from state houses nationwide because each state house belongs to the people of that state, no matter their race. What purpose does it serve to fly a flag that symbolizes hate and oppression to a significant number of that state's residents? Answer: There's no justifiable reason for keeping the flag.
On the other hand, I don't want to see the Confederate Battle Flag disappear completely. It's true that it represents hate and oppression for blacks everywhere, but it's also true that it's a symbol of a past we can't afford to forget.
Look, our history isn't as nice and neat and shiny as we'd like it to be. And we aren't always the heroes on the right side of every issue. The truth is, our history is dirty and full of shameful acts. Our nation did engage in the slave trade for almost 400 years. Our nation did slaughter thousands of innocent Native Americans and steal their land. More recently, we did hold hundreds of terror suspects indefinitely and engage in torture. We did secretly wiretap the phones of innocent Americans. And the list could go on.
The point is this: As much as we would like to rewrite history, to always cast ourselves as the "good guys," we have done some horrible things, and we shouldn't allow ourselves to forget them just because they are painful, or because they cast our country in a bad light.
I once interviewed an Auschwitz survivor who had endured unimaginable suffering. During our interview, I noticed that she still had the tattoo on her arm given to her by her captors. When I asked her why she would keep a reminder of such a painful time, she said: "I keep it because I don't want to forget what happened, and I don't want to allow others to forget what happened, either."
She's right. As painful as it is to admit that the South once endorsed slavery in this country, then fought a war to maintain it, it did happen. Removing all traces of the Confederate Battle Flag from the public square won't change that. And truthfully, it's a chapter in our history we shouldn't allow ourselves to forget.
Monday, June 29, 2015
Thursday, June 25, 2015
Combatting hatred begins with each of us
It's happened again. Another senseless shooting where innocent people died for no reason. This time, it happened in a historic black church -- Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, S.C. Nine people died and one was injured after the alleged shooter, Dylann Storm Roof, opened fire after sitting in a Bible study group for about an hour. Roof was apparently motivated by hatred stoked by racism, as he had racist patches on his jacket.
It all seems so simple. A white supremacist opens fire in a historically black church. It's an open and shut case, right? Hardly. You'd think we'd be used to this by now. Every few months, it seems, we're jarred out of our sense of complacency by a seemingly senseless act of violence. Someone opens fire in a movie theater or in a shopping mall or on a military base. Every time we react with outrage, especially if race is somehow tied in. That outrage is justified, but it's not enough. This time, I believe we need to go beyond the outrage and the prayers for their victims and their families. This time, we need to take a long, hard look at ourselves and what breeds this type of hate. More important, we need to ask ourselves: What can we do to break this vicious cycle?
To begin with, we need to take a long, hard, honest look at ourselves. We need to admit to that we, too, are capable of this type of hate. Be honest. Who can say that they've never had a racist thought or used a racial epithet in their lives? If we're completely honest, I think we'd find that we've all had a racist thought or used a racist term at one time or another. The difference, of course, is the vast majority of us never act on those thoughts or go beyond using a racist term. But each of us is capable of the same type of hate that motivated Roof. We are not perfect, so it's wrong of us to cast judgment on Roof, especially since so little is known of his past right now.
The second thing we can do is realize that hate is not natural to the human condition. Yes, we each have the capacity to hate, but children are a blank slate. They aren't born hating. They are taught to hate. So if we want to end this vicious cycle of hatred and violence, we need to teach children to look beyond skin color. We need to teach them to judge people based on the "content of their character," to quote Dr. King, not on skin color. More important, we need to demonstrate this love for others through our own actions. Children hear what we tell them, but they are more likely to imitate what the see us doing, so setting the right example is vital.
Third, we, as a society, need to confront the societal factors that likely led to Roof's outburst. And what are those? Two that come immediately to mind are profound poverty and broken homes. Here's how it works: A child is born into a single parent home where that parent is struggling daily to provide even the basic necessities. As that child grows, he sees peers with two parents who have plenty without having to struggle. He grows to resent it, then becomes angry. That angry child has just made himself vulnerable to the myriad of hate groups out there, who target kids like this, kids who want desperately to belong and who want to find someone to blame for their situation.
To be honest, I can't really relate to what it's like to be a victim of racism. Nor do really know what it's like to live in poverty. I'm one of the lucky ones. I'm a white male who was raised in a solidly middle class environment by parents who taught me not to hate. But whether I can directly relate or not, I know that racism and hatred in this country won't end until people like me stand up against it. It won't end until people like me teach my future children not to judge others on anything other than their actions. It won't end until I go beyond words of outrage and actually set the proper example for how to treat other people. We can defeat the kind of hate that showed itself in Charleston last week. But for that to happen, it must begin with each of us.
It all seems so simple. A white supremacist opens fire in a historically black church. It's an open and shut case, right? Hardly. You'd think we'd be used to this by now. Every few months, it seems, we're jarred out of our sense of complacency by a seemingly senseless act of violence. Someone opens fire in a movie theater or in a shopping mall or on a military base. Every time we react with outrage, especially if race is somehow tied in. That outrage is justified, but it's not enough. This time, I believe we need to go beyond the outrage and the prayers for their victims and their families. This time, we need to take a long, hard look at ourselves and what breeds this type of hate. More important, we need to ask ourselves: What can we do to break this vicious cycle?
To begin with, we need to take a long, hard, honest look at ourselves. We need to admit to that we, too, are capable of this type of hate. Be honest. Who can say that they've never had a racist thought or used a racial epithet in their lives? If we're completely honest, I think we'd find that we've all had a racist thought or used a racist term at one time or another. The difference, of course, is the vast majority of us never act on those thoughts or go beyond using a racist term. But each of us is capable of the same type of hate that motivated Roof. We are not perfect, so it's wrong of us to cast judgment on Roof, especially since so little is known of his past right now.
The second thing we can do is realize that hate is not natural to the human condition. Yes, we each have the capacity to hate, but children are a blank slate. They aren't born hating. They are taught to hate. So if we want to end this vicious cycle of hatred and violence, we need to teach children to look beyond skin color. We need to teach them to judge people based on the "content of their character," to quote Dr. King, not on skin color. More important, we need to demonstrate this love for others through our own actions. Children hear what we tell them, but they are more likely to imitate what the see us doing, so setting the right example is vital.
Third, we, as a society, need to confront the societal factors that likely led to Roof's outburst. And what are those? Two that come immediately to mind are profound poverty and broken homes. Here's how it works: A child is born into a single parent home where that parent is struggling daily to provide even the basic necessities. As that child grows, he sees peers with two parents who have plenty without having to struggle. He grows to resent it, then becomes angry. That angry child has just made himself vulnerable to the myriad of hate groups out there, who target kids like this, kids who want desperately to belong and who want to find someone to blame for their situation.
To be honest, I can't really relate to what it's like to be a victim of racism. Nor do really know what it's like to live in poverty. I'm one of the lucky ones. I'm a white male who was raised in a solidly middle class environment by parents who taught me not to hate. But whether I can directly relate or not, I know that racism and hatred in this country won't end until people like me stand up against it. It won't end until people like me teach my future children not to judge others on anything other than their actions. It won't end until I go beyond words of outrage and actually set the proper example for how to treat other people. We can defeat the kind of hate that showed itself in Charleston last week. But for that to happen, it must begin with each of us.
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