First of all, this post is directed to a set group of my friends. So if you are from Yankee country… PISS OFF! That goes especially for Indiana Rebel-Wannabes from Porter County… and for Marylanders that like to pretend they are Rebels but never had the guts to defy Martial Law to do anything about it. You were not included in the Confederate flags for a reason, Maryland, even though Kentucky and Missouri were, OK? The fact that you are the only Yankee state that includes a Confederate license plate is hilarious, especially considering how “progressive” you claim to be.
OK, now that Amateurs are out of here…
To my Georgia friends (those who still remain in the Southern U.S. and those whose hearts have never left):
I finally have to face the day I never wanted to. A day that saddens me, but it has to be said.
It is time for me to let go…
I take no pleasure in saying this. My Southern roots are complicated. My family may have come from the Midwest, but my Mother’s ancestors are Georgia royalty. She is a Walton. Her ancestors fought for both sides in the Civil War, according to family history passed down by word of mouth. I was born and raised in the shadow of Stone Mountain. Whether it was Decatur or Snellville, I always considered myself a Southerner. But I must acknowledge the complexity. Lutherans aren’t exactly Deep South kind of people.
I remember the Georgia of my youth… the one portrayed in “The Dukes of Hazzard”. I was there when Sorrell Brooke was Grand Marshall and going to Briscoe Park and hearing him as Boss Hogg. What a great day! I remember Six Flags over Georgia the way it used to be. Do you remember the Glass Salt/Pepper Shakers you could get which had the Six Flags that flew over Georgia? I do. I remember Stone Mountain as it was. It oozed South. I remember Dixieland music. I remember the South Gwinnett Fight Song being a Rendition of “Are you from Dixie?” I remember it all. You remember it too. The fact that you could get around town by foot or bicycle if you wanted to. It was Mayberry, wasn’t it? Nobody really got into serious trouble. Never meant any harm on our pranks, did we? And we had dirt back roads. We could shoot bibi guns in our back yards and not have to worry about neighbors behind us… because they didn’t exist.
Yes, there were always ugly undertones which may not have shown up on the surface of Snellville or Gwinnett County, but they were there in the shadows. Never spoken of, but those ghosts were there. I never knew anyone directly associated with them, but I’ll bet the house Snellville had a few white sheets. They may not have burned any crosses, but they were willing to jump over into Forsyth County and harass Hosea Williams back in 1987, right? And the Stainless Banner was always there… publicly.
But times have changed. The towns we knew are gone. They have been replaced by crowded suburbs. It’s multicultural. You see, Atlanta became a hot destination thanks to A/C making Southern life bearable, and the vision many of its leaders had to show the city off to the world and bring the world to Atlanta. And the World came, and the world liked what it saw. They also came to other cities around Atlanta… To Athens, Rome, Macon, Augusta, Savannah, Columbus, and other cities. But the world has different attitudes than the natives. They want to bring their culture, while at the same time having trouble with parts of the Southern culture, like some of the symbols. At the same time, many native Georgians have ventured out into the world and have either returned with different perspectives or have never returned. In the end, life has changed. You want the true return to your roots, you almost have to go out to “Deliverance Country”… where you will have you head on a swivel every time you hear a banjo.
Now you are watching the symbols of the South being stripped from public and you think “That’s not what those symbols mean. I know what they mean, because I was there. It doesn’t mean hatred. It means Pride. Why am I being accused of being racist? I treat everyone kindly!” Of course, we all like to think we are saints. But can we take a hard look at ourselves and say we treat everyone kindly? Can we say that about ourselves when we are around friends and co-workers who are non-Caucasian? Can we say we can treat everyone equally? Or do we have even a tinge of bias that we can erase just by removing certain symbols to make people feel better?
I think the world of my childhood friends. I have never met more kind, more loving, and more genteel souls than my Southern acquaintances. I mean that. So I say this as a friend… Consider making peace with the controversial symbols of the South. And whether you keep them out or put them in that box in the corner of your attic or get rid of them altogether, know that I still consider you my friends.
As for me, I will always love my Southern roots. I am better off remembering the good things about my early life… When I have the chance. But now that I live in Maryland, I realize the world is a bigger place. The best thing I can do to show the goodness of my Southern roots is be the best person I can be to all. And I can do that without Flags or decals or pins of symbols from a more volatile era of our nation’s history.
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