My favorite childhood photo of my dad and I is from a trip we took when I was about 10 on a beautiful sunny day at a lake in Algonquin Provincial Park in Canada.
In the picture, Dad’s gotta be around the age I am today – probably younger – and he looks great, totally in his element; binoculars in hand, flannel shirt with the sleeve rolled up, what we call today a “trucker-style” Bass Pro Shops cap and showing me something I would never otherwise have seen. I look like me as kid: skinny, freckled, wearing an oversized sweatshirt and ball cap and carrying some kind of book or notebook or something.
I love the photo. I keep on display in the living room.
That said, it is not a photo I share on social media even on Father’s Day or Throwback Thursday. And I don’t post it for one specific reason: the hat I am wearing has a confederate flag on it.
Now, I am obviously not wearing it for any sort of Southern pride or heritage, states’ rights or racist reason. I am wearing it because it is the mid-80s and I am 10 and I LOVED the Dukes of Hazzard.
So even though I love the photo of my dad and I and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that my reasons for wearing that hat have ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do with the meaning behind the image on it, I am still ashamed.
Yes, it is my past – my heritage, if you will – and while I thought I knew what the flag meant and what it was projecting when I wore it, I have since learned its true meaning, the hatred and treason it really stands for, and as an educated, respectful human being, I am a little bit embarrassed to have ever worn it in the first place.
I think there is a lesson there for the country as a whole and I must admit I have been very pleased in the past few weeks to watch as the debate over the Confederate battle flag and its meaning came to a head and seems to be finally putting that treasonous rag out to pasture.
I understand that a lot of people consider that flag a symbol, of their “heritage” and of “southern pride,” but surely after one learns exactly what it stood for, one should be embarrassed by it, not embrace it.
My degree is actually in American history (journalism was my minor) and when I think back to my college days oh those many years ago, very few moments from the actual classes jump out at me, though one in particular has always stayed with me and seems to have become even more relevant than ever.
It was my senior year and I was taking a 400-level course on the Civil War, which meant that every single one of us in the class was not only most likely a history major but had taken multiple pre-reqs just to be able to get in the door.
On the first day, the professor opened with what is a standard question for anyone except a room full of people pursuing a degree in the topic.
“So,” he said raising his eyebrows and rubbing his hands together, “what was the cause of the Civil War.”
As history majors, we were ready for this one. Obviously the cause of the Civil War was the differing economic realities of the North and South.
But that was not the answer.
So we tried again. And again, hitting all of the complicated reasons we had read in previous classes: tariffs and states’ rights and honor (oh my). Still no dice.
“Closer, but not really. Come on, what was the cause of the Civil War?” asked the prof.
Surely this professor did not expect us to parrot back the basic, one-word simpleton answer expected of fourth-graders and chain restaurant placemat trivia, did he? We had spent four years learning that the Real Issues ran much deeper, right?
Nope.
“Slavery,” the professor finally said to the confused room. “Slavery was the cause of the Civil War. It’s really that simple.”
I remember walking out of the class with a friend of mine talking about how we were stunned by the start of class and how this prof had to be a joke, right?
Well, no, actually. It turned out that prof was exactly right. The cause of the Civil War, the reason the South seceded, was slavery and slavery alone. The only “states’ right” they were interested in was their right to subjugate their fellow human beings.
I say this without leaving any level of wiggle room. And I do it because thanks to that class, I have read the actual secession papers.
Every single one of them – often in the opening paragraph – makes it very clear that they are leaving because the North is opposed to slavery.
Shoot, the second sentence of Mississippi’s could not be more clear: “Our position is thoroughly identified with the institution of slavery.”
And Texas? Well, let’s just say they do it bigger, going so far as to try and negate the Declaration’s most famous clause, literally complaining about “the debasing doctrine of equality of all men, irrespective of race or color — a doctrine at war with nature, in opposition to the experience of mankind.”
Everything else stemmed from slavery, including the standard “states’ rights” argument. Turns out the only “states’ rights” they were trying to protect was the right of the Southern States to subjugate their fellow humans.
And they did it under the banner of the Confederate flag, which was carried into battle against the United States. A flag that was created for that war and then, after the war, generally disappeared for about 100 years until it re-surfaced as a visual counterpoint to the civil-rights movement.
That flag is not a symbol of “Southern Heritage.” It is a symbol of treason and racism and those who fly it should not be proud but ashamed.
In the 90s, when I was in college, we had to go to the library and do some relatively heavy research to see those secession documents, which was why all those revisionist stories and reasons were allowed to get so much traction.
But today all you have to do is type “Southern secession documents” in to a search engine and the undeniable truth pops up for all to see. Don’t trust me, read them yourself. It was about slavery.
Look, I am sure there is a wonderful Southern culture and heritage. I have friends who live down there and have been through the South on many occasions. It absolutely has a different feel than the North and the culture is different. I get it. We should preserve and remember that difference.
But surely a flag that was flown for a four-year period during a rebellion and war against the United States does NOT represent it. Surely you can come up with something better, something that sums up the entire Southern experience and lifestyle, not just the darkest mark on the history of those states.
And again, no one is saying to ban the Confederate flag (except from public and governmental grounds; it HAS to go from those). This is America. By all means, fly it if you want to fly it, put it on your pick-up truck or belt buckle, tattoo it on your arm, I don’t care.
Just know that the “heritage” you are projecting is probably not the one you’d like and you will be judged.
When I told my friends the story of the photo of me in the hat, several offered to Photoshop it for me so the flag would be covered and I could display the photo. But I don’t want to do that.
Embarrassing as it may be, I view it as a reminder that we can all learn and change and that we can love our heritage and our past even while recognizing the flaws and mis-steps we have made to get to where we are today.
Time for the South to do the same.
