“WE MAY BE SIBLINGS AFTER ALL”
In light of the terrible but not surprising news that Kyle Rittenhouse was acquitted of all charges in Wisconsin last week, I wanted to share a glimmer of good news from the heart of the South. Last month Dekalb County approved the removal of the “Indian Wars Cannon” that had been placed in the Decatur Square in 1906 by the United Daughters of the Confederacy (UDC). It was removed on October 19. While some of us had been working on this for a long while, we give thanks for the Beacon Hill Black Alliance for Human Rights, which took up this cause and brought it to fruition. They were also instrumental in getting the Confederate Monument removed from the Square in the summer of 2020.
We also give thanks for our friend, Dekalb County Commissioner Mereda Davis Johnson, who was a powerful force behind the removals of both of these symbols of white supremacy. As she put it in a statement when the cannon was removed: “Dekalb County and the City of Decatur are places of love, not hate. Of inclusion, not division. And, so any sign that is divisive or is hurtful to others, or is a sign of oppression, we shouldn’t have in the county.” We give thanks for Mereda and Ted Terry who co-sponsored the resolution for removal. Mereda is a long-time ally of Oakhurst Presbyterian, and she is the daughter-in-law of Christine Callier, longtime Oakhurst member. She is also the spouse of Congressperson Hank Johnson.
The Indian Wars cannon memorialized the removal of Indigenous Peoples from this area following the Creek Indian War of 1836. The war was rooted in the Indian Removal Act of 1830, supported and backed by President Andrew Jackson. In 1821, the state of Georgia forced the sale of Creek (and Cherokee) land in Georgia, giving it at little cost to those who were classified as “white.” The Creek and the Cherokee did not take this well, and violence broke out. The Native Americans sued in federal court, and SCOTUS even ruled that their land should not be stolen in this manner, but President Jackson refused to enforce the SCOTUS ruling, saying infamously that if SCOTUS wanted its decision enforced, they should send their own soldiers to do it. Under our Constitution, however, SCOTUS can have no soldiers. The result was the horrifying Trail of Tears, removing many Indigenous People from their ancestral lands.
The UDC placed the cannon in Decatur Square in 1906, even before they had the Confederate monument installed in 1908. Why this connection of the “Indian Wars” cannon to the Lost Cause? Because both are monuments to white supremacy, and they are a reminder that most of us who are classified as “white” feel threatened by the presence of anyone categorized as “non-white,” most especially those seen as Black or Indigenous. In this sense, the verdict in the Rittenhouse case is not surprising at all – he, as a “white” boy, had put himself in the presence of Black people. His travel there across state lines with an illegal automatic weapon was not seen as endangerment. The dangerous people - from the view of white supremacy -are not boys like him with automatic weapons, but rather are people of color. As the judge so infamously put it in his instructions to the jury, consider this case from Rittenhouse’s point of view. That point of view is that all people of color are threatening in all times and in all places.
This verdict is a grim reminder of the danger in which we live, as white supremacy regains its strength. But, we should also remember other visions. In 1854, Chief Seattle, after whom the city is named, gave a powerful speech of lament about the taking of their lands (and ancestors) by those classified as ‘white.” He added these words of warning and prophecy about the necessity of seeing one another as siblings rather than enemies: “Even the white man, whose God walked and talked with him, as friend to friend, is not exempt from the common destiny. We may be {brothers} after all. We shall see.”
We may be siblings after all – that is a powerful phrase and a powerful thought. In these days of growing danger, let us be watchful, but let us always remember this vision and seek to be guided by it. We may be siblings after all. We are siblings after, and even before, all is said and done. We have a common ancestry and a common destiny. We belong to one another.
excellent blog, reverend...my brother...
ReplyDelete