how to welcome others: a Lipscomb case study
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If you want to include others, welcome them to the table before it is set, not after.
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contextualizing confederates: part two
/the lost cause
This essay is part of a three part series I wrote in order to contextualize the current discussion we are having about our confederate monuments. Last week I explored the causes of the Civil War, and this week I turn to the aftermath of the war, the Lost Cause narrative, and the initial erecting of monuments.
After the Civil War, the Confederacy was in shambles, economically ruined. Although the Union won, the union of states that survived was deeply weakened by the death toll, the loss of a free Southern work force, and destroyed landscapes. In an intentional choice to reconcile, the congress passed laws to forgive confederate treason, allow former confederate leaders to run for federal office, and for the South to create their own racially based laws as they reorganized as a society. The South, shocked at having been defeated, reeling from the abrupt erasure of the foundation of their economy, and outraged at their forced submission, was desperate to redeem the noble purpose of the cause for which they fought the war in the first place. As the Civil War came to a close, a new war began for the memory of the war, and the South won this conflict handily.
The narrative of the Lost Cause, shared through Southern publications, memorial days, books, films, and throughout the political arena, created a memory of the antebellum South in which slaves were fiercely loyal to their masters, masters were good Christians who took care of their slaves with gentle, fatherly guidance, and all Southerners were committed to hospitality, Christianity, and kindness above all. Historian David Blight explains, "the Lost Cause took root in Southern culture awash in a mixture of physical destruction, the psychological trauma of defeat, a Democratic Party resisting Reconstruction, racial violence, and, with time, an abiding sentimentalism. On the broadest level, it came to represent a mood, or an attitude toward the past…For many Southerners it became a natural extension of evangelical piety, a civil religion that helped them link their sense of loss to a Christian conception of history."
The Lost Cause represented a Christian narrative in which masters and slaves were friends whose relationship was built on mutual sacrifice and steady loyalty. This narrative was undermined by the fact that hundreds of thousands of slaves abandoned their masters and their plantations during the course of the war. Nevertheless, the Lost Cause asserted slaves were not mistreated, but they, being either helpless children or wayward beasts, needed the paternal guidance a white Christian male could offer them. Slavery simply provided the framework that allowed generous white people to care for lost and lazy black people.
In their view, and for many Southerners today, the Civil War was not fought to selfishly protect slavery, but to defend a state’s right to do what is best for its people. Historian Walter Johnson clarifies, "when slavery was over and the slave market was closed, former slaves and slaveholder alike found themselves marooned on a shoal of history. The longings of slave holders to hold onto the past as it receded from their grasp are well-documented. Well-known, too, is the disbelief they experienced, the sense of betrayal they talked about, when their slaves left them behind."
The narrative of the Lost Cause created a context in which a man who owned slaves, committed treason by seceding, and led an army who killed others to protect the right to own, abuse and economically benefit from forcing others to do labor from which they would not profit, became a sympathetic character. After all, he was just protecting his people—slaves and family—from an overreaching North. He had worked so hard to take care of these poor wayward black folks, and he sacrificed himself to protect a way of life they appreciated.
Those who nurtured the thinking of the Lost Cause soon created societies and clubs committed to memorializing their heroes. The first Confederate statues were put in place in the 1870s, but most were erected after 1890. Although confederate soldiers were not granted pensions at the same rate as their Union counterparts, they were memorialized, honored and held up as the best of the South. The organizations who commissioned them, like the United Daughters of the Confederacy, endeavored to remind every person who walked by the town square that the South laments the death of and memorializes the life of these great men who lived honorably and fought nobly for a sweet Southern, Christian way of life that honored everyone involved, black and white.
““The Lost Cause left just such a legacy; it was not essentially inhuman in character, but its very existence depended on dehumanizing a group of people.” ”
The North, anxious to put the country back together, allowed such intense memorializing to occur. Indeed, twelve Confederate monuments were built for every one Union monument, shocking numbers when we remember the Union, who fought quite literally—in the words of Isaiah in foretelling the birth of Christ—to “release the captives”, won the war. Indeed, “The Lost Cause left just such a legacy; it was not essentially inhuman in character, but its very existence depended on dehumanizing a group of people” (Blight). Part of our American history is that the South was encouraged in this revising of history, and that they built monuments to men who defended the right to ignore and erase the dignity of other human beings in the public square. While it is perhaps true that many white Southerners cherish these monuments because they celebrate a beloved South, the monuments themselves were erected to memorialize a mostly fabricated version of the South. In this way, the monuments symbolize the collision of Christianity, white supremacy, and loyalty, ideals that Southerners conscientiously admired and promoted. Blight argues this movement, “reinvigorates white supremacy by borrowing heavily from the plantation school of literature in promoting reminiscences of the faithful slave as a central figure in the Confederate war. Together, these arguments reinforced Southern pride.”
“While it is true that many white Southerners cherish these monuments because they celebrate a beloved heritage, the monuments themselves were erected to memorialize a mostly fabricated version of the South. ”
The monuments’ place in society is problematic not because liberals want to rewrite history or because African Americans are sensitive; their place is fraught because of what they commemorate, then and now. Consider this: At the unveiling of General Stonewall Jackson’s monument in Richmond, Virginia in 1875, the KKK, the sponsoring group, was present. They wore hoods and carried arches which read: “Warrior, Christian, Patriot.” Knowing this past, should patriots—and Christians especially—be troubled by the version of history commemorated by confederate monuments? If we are concerned about erasing history by removing them shouldn’t we ensure we have learned all the lessons embedded in the history they honor?
Next week, thoughts on what to do with these signs of our past.
on labor day, in honor of laborers
/In the 1880s, municipalities, and then states, began to recognize the efforts of local workers, artisans and laborers on a designated day. The desire to honor these contributors as the foundation-layers of local economies spread, and Labor Day was established nationally. In this country of “us and thems”, it seems archaic and strangely beautiful to me that we all celebrate Labor Day, as if a part of our nature knows we should celebrate the faithful contributions of each member of society, even if we rarely do.
American financial systems and economic stratification reveal that although we were once a society of producers, workers and laborers, we have transformed into a people who value capital over labor. In Joan C. Williams’ new book, White Working Class: Overcoming Class Cluelessness in America, she argues, “over the past 40-odd years, elites stopped connecting with the working class, whom prior generations had given a place of honor.” Do we still celebrate labor as a society, or have we reduced laborers to “them”, people we can mock and exploit?
“Do we still celebrate labor as a society, or have we reduced laborers to “them”, people we can mock and exploit?”
The American consumer economy needs both capital and labor to survive. Those who supply capital—investors—risk a lot up front in order to give a business the chance to succeed. Their investment of money is crucial, and allows an idea to become a reality. Patents are procured, factories built, and supply chains secured. Labor then steps in, supplying the expertise, time and work to make a product demanded by consumers. While rapid technological advances continue to automate factory work, threatening the necessity of labor, workers are still crucial contributors to society, both through their skill and in the economic foundation they provide. Nevertheless, our economic system, regulations and policies prioritize and reward capital, while essentially undermining and ignoring the contributions of labor.
In the last 50 years, investments and growth measured in the New York Stock Exchange have risen 2,200%, returning massive profits to investors. During the same time period labor income stagnated, after initially growing: “the typical white working-class household income doubled in the three decades after World War II but has not risen appreciably since” (Williams). Viewed another way, the top 10% of Americans gained 96% of our economy’s growth in the last 40 years, while the bottom 90% shared a paltry 4% growth in incomes (Business Insider). This economic disparity represents soaring wealth on the part of the top 10%, and utter stagnation on the part of the laborers whose productivity largely created the wealth enjoyed by the wealthy. In 1978, CEOs made an average of more than thirty times their employees; in 2013 they made nearly 300 times more than their workforce. Today, a parent working full time at minimum wage qualifies for and requires SNAP benefits in order to feed her children. Should this be true of a society that celebrates Labor Day? For that matter, should this be true of a society who claims to believe work brings dignity?
On this Labor Day, I would like to suggest three actions we can all take to honor laborers.
1) Ask a simple question: Do you have greater impact as a citizen or as a consumer?
2) Labor. Labore. From the Latin for work. Do some with your hands.
3) Examine the part you play in undervaluing workers.
Consumer activists love to decry inhumane working conditions in plants around the world. We feel a moral obligation to intervene when we hear that laborers in Bangladesh die in horrible fires, largely the result of the condition of the factories in which they worked. Apple was urged to change when activists exposed the brutal environment at Foxconn in China, the company responsible for making many of their products. And yet. We love buying cheap clothing, and many of us are dependent on Apple devices to function everyday. In other words, our mistreatment of labor is not only the fault of greedy policies that reward capital and undervalue labor; we are all complicit in a system that abuses labor when we buy products whose low prices require underpaying the workers who produce the goods. Many of us think we are powerless to affect change as citizens; while this may feel true, we have enormous purchasing power, and these daily choices can institute change. If we really want to expand our us, we need to consider how we contribute to the diminishing prospects of laborers through what we buy.
“Our mistreatment of labor is not only the fault of greedy policies that reward capital and undervalue labor; we are all complicit in a system that abuses labor when we buy products whose low prices require underpaying the workers who produce the goods.”
My faith leads me to believe that because we are created in the image of God, we were made to create. I grew up on a farm where we built barns and decks and chicken coops and porches all the time, and even though my kids are being raised in the city we build something together every summer. Recycling bins. Corn hole boards. A charging station for our devices. There is something deeply satisfying about working with your hands. Indeed, in 2013 Pope Francis asserted, “We do not get dignity from power or money or culture. We get dignity from work.” Good labor transcends time and lets you lose yourself in a task. There is a reason that the rise of our manic commitment to social media is being followed a decade later by a resurgence in what’s been called the Makers Movement. People have started making things and they’re hooked. Can we remember to connect this hipster movement to the laborers who built our economy, whom we celebrate on Labor Day? They are not distinct.
“There is a reason that the rise of our manic commitment to social media is being followed a decade later by a resurgence in what’s been called the Makers Movement: labor is dignifying.”
Much has been made of the new cultural power of working class people. Indeed, they shocked the world when they revealed our faulty dependence on political polls, installing Mr. Trump as president in 2016. While their motivations have been maligned as racist and bigoted, this is not a fair characterization of working people. Williams argues that “when elites commit to equality for many different groups but arrogantly dismiss” the working poor, they have “written off the anger” of the working poor as “racism, sexism, nativism—beneath our dignity to take seriously.” Working people are not all xenophobic and misogynistic; many were and are not at all interested in endorsing such positions socially or culturally. Instead, I know some who are simply tired of being ignored, undervalued, impoverished and mistreated. If we want to form a more perfect union, to be a government for and by all people, then perhaps we need to look at the foundational systems that create and sustain inequality. We are not only deeply broken in the way we deal with race, we are also fundamentally unjust in the way we undervalue and dismiss hard working poor people as bigoted and ignorantly angry. This Labor Day week, let’s celebrate all parts of America, rather than rewarding only the risk of investment and the cultural outlook of wealthier Americans.
Next week: What to do with confederate monuments?
