I grew up in Woolwine and presently live in Charlottesville. Patrick County is filled with many wonderful memories and holds a special place in my heart.As you know, Charlottesville has been the center of controversy centered on the removal of Civil War statues. A letter in our local paper regarding Patrick County’s decision on the statue of Jeb Stuart reminds me that there are many views on what the statues represent to us.
Our knowledge of history has failed us in understanding the story behind the statues. They were not erected during, or even soon after, the Civil War. Most were erected in the late 1890s or in the 1920s and 1930s during the Jim Crow Period to make the statement the “whites” were still in control. They were frequently used as signs of intimidation. The recent events have caused me to reflect on my own childhood and adult experiences around race and my understanding of what that means. When I was growing up, I could get up in the morning and walk across the road to school. The African American children who lived on the hill behind my home rode a bus as long as an hour to get to the only school in the county that served African American children.
As a child I could go into any restaurant and eat or use the restroom. African American families did not have the same privilege and were limited in the resources available. One friend told me of having to take a “pot” as they traveled as they frequently would not have access to a restroom.
I remember school children taunting “Aunt Mary,” an African American woman who worked for my grandmother, as they were walking to school. My most powerful memory is the time my father took a very ill woman to the Medical College of Virginia for treatment for cancer and on the trip she became very ill. My father could not find a service station or restaurant that would allow her to come in or even to use their outdoor bathroom because she was black.
These memories of my childhood are very uncomfortable. While these are stories from my past, and much has changed for the better, institutional or systemic racism still exists. We confuse having black friends and integrated schools, and services open to all with not being racist. It misses the mark!
I am not black. And while I can feel pained about what is happening around us—both then and now—I cannot feel the fear, the humiliation, the disillusionment and the injustice so many of our neighbors felt and still feel. I have always had privileges simply because of the color of my skin.
I cannot completely understand what the statues, the Confederate flag and other signs of white dominance mean to the African American population. But I must try. We all must try!We are all products of our upbringing; where we lived, our families, our schools, our churches, our neighbors. Our history books were shallow in their presentation of our American history. Our churches have often been reticent in speaking out loudly on the injustice of racism and in living up to the real teachings of Jesus. And elected and appointed officials sometimes pass or support ideas or laws that seem to negate the second paragraph of the Declaration of Independence which says, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness”.
And we, the average citizens, have too often and too long been quiet. We have refused to really try to understand and examine our racial history. We are reluctant and often uncomfortable in challenging ideas we may have grown up with. We are uncomfortable having conversations with those whose thoughts are not as ours.
We are afraid of change and of being challenged. So we sit back and remain silent. We should ask ourselves why. As Martin Luther King said, “Our lives begin to end the day we remain silent about things that matter.”My mother was in her late twenties when she stood on the steps of the Patrick County Court House and gave a speech dedicating the statue of Jeb Stuart to Patrick County. I wonder what she would do today.
Judy Smith
