COLUMN: Facing the truth of our past
Macon can boast a fascinating history, and many of the most significant events have taken place relatively recently, with many of the participants still walking the streets among us. Some of the events are ones that we don’t often speak of, just as all of us very likely have things in our past that we are loath to broadcast. Consider this nation’s treatment of indigenous peoples, the role that slavery has played in our history and the ongoing malevolence of the Jim Crow era.
As individuals, we can try to bury our past, or we can square our shoulders, admit our wrongdoing and accept the need to face the unpalatable truth, as ugly as it may be. The situation is similar for societies. Mississippi and Alabama have done much to acknowledge some of the dreadful deeds that occurred there. Here in Georgia, several cities have to some extent confronted their pasts.
Alas, there’s not much happening around here on that score. It’s not that we’re short on history; we are loaded. It’s just that we’ve pushed it aside, and sadly many of the people who lived through these events – things that younger people yearn to learn about – are vanishing.
A flurry of history-related programs recently has reminded me of the urgency of this situation: Not long-ago Mercer University presented a discussion on the impact of Interstate 75 on the historic Pleasant Hill neighborhood. Also recently at Mercer, Judge W. Louis Sands spoke about his youth and his early educational experiences.
That same month, the Washington Library hosted Harold Michael Harvey, author of “Freaknik Lawyer: A Memoir on the Craft of Resistance,” an engaging first-hand narrative of local history. Harvey, one of three young men who integrated Lanier Junior High in 1965, gives the reader a front-row seat to the social upheaval as “the curse of Plessy” gave way to “the promise of Brown,” and many whites abandoned public education.
Harvey gives the reader a report on many of the events of the 1960s and ‘70s, for example the Poor People’s March. Those who resided here in that era will recognize a great number of names and events: Judge William Bootle, Frank Johnson, Mary Wilder, Tethel White (later, Brown), Alex Habersham, “The Macon Courier,” the Jesuits, and many more.
It would be a great disservice to those who struggled for social justice in this community to let this chapter in our history go unheralded. Many of the participants are already dead. I recently attended a showing of the film “Love Them First” about an elementary school in Minneapolis named after Lucy Craft Laney, a Macon native and celebrated educator. Although there’s a museum dedicated to her in Augusta, much of the audience in her hometown was unfamiliar with Laney. Embarrassingly, I quizzed all four of my kids, including one who graduated from high school less than a year ago, with similar results. Sad.
We can do better than this. Where’s our pride? Better yet, where’s our courage?
