My apologies for the not a lot of activity around here lately. I did come across something that made me want to jump into a few posts, though. First:
Q: You really don't talk about the Black experience a lot. Why not?
A: I generally consider myself well-informed as to the details of said experience, but I am intimidated by my overall lack of specialized knowledge therein. I like to do topics of posting some amount of justice, which leads to perfectionism, which leads to putting off posting. That said, my recent love affair with gobbling up every last detail of everything Southern has started to lead me into a lot of reading on the Black experience. It's not a world entirely foreign to me either; I have a fair degree of involvement in religious ministry in Rochester, NY and Detroit, MI where I can definitely say I got immersed in various facets of the Black experience. One of the most amazing features I came across was the prevalence of town hall style democratic participation, something that one would figure is entirely absent from any large developed areas and relegated mostly to the land of small farming towns in Indiana or Iowa.
The two mentalities are not so different that they have never existed in unison; most Black people living in the United States and Canada, at least before the Second World War, were agriculturally focused and lived in smaller communities. The first Black people seeking a better life in Canada settled not in Kingston or Montreal but in Amherstburg (just south of Windsor, Ontario) or in Oro-Medonte, a largely rural community about an hour and change north of Toronto. In the United States, before employers like Ford attracted many Black people through equal pay and hiring opportunity, racial demographics were spread pretty even between rural and urban areas; cities were often full of struggling immigrants who were often responsible for creating discriminatory conditions no better than in the more timid parts of the South. This might have been due to a distaste for even more competition in addition to any racism passed on the other groups already living here by such times.
This was nothing compared to what Black people were dealing with in the South, however. Read the following article to get a taste of just what that meant, and just what yesterday's public holiday means:
http://m.dailykos.com/story/2011/08/29/1011562/-Most-of-you-have-no-idea-what-Martin-Luther-King-actually-did
It's sobering, to say the least. It puts things into perspective, like the question "Why don't I talk about the Black experience a lot?" I decided to wait a day until posting this so the hysteria of everyone wanting to post about it died down and we could look at things from a vantage of reality over popularity.
Always to the frontier
Showing posts with label Racism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Racism. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Is It Racist To Like Southern Gardens (Or Anything)?
A little interlude before we head back to Charleston. In fact, this sort of sets up that post, trying to look at Southern Gardening from a different historical background and responding to a very serious question/accusation that I received e-mailed to me about recent posts on the South:
Q: Surely you are aware of the intense racism and inhumanity that plagues your beloved Southern "culture", polite gardens or architecture or otherwise? The South is an embarrassment on this country and you are exposing some personal racist tendencies toward history here.
The South has amazing agricultural and gardening potential. The lowcountry affords a long growing season which can account for the vast majority of the year, while the backcountry offers moderation in the region's otherwise blistering summer sun and enough winter chill to permit northern delights to slip in the scenery. Naturally speaking, there is so much of everything right in soil, sun, and moisture that nature can run rampant here given the chance to. This can result in seemingly unstoppable plagues of kudzu, but it can also result in an incredibly potent power behind natural reclamation.
American Voyages has thus far taken us on a tour of the landscapes of the South and the sentiment they have held for the region's inhabitants, both first and second born. In some cases, the flora and fauna are beloved and considered quintessential to understanding the character of the culture which has developed here. In others, such as with the many pines of the region, the backdrop has been simply wallpaper and, at best, a bonus feature. Here, as in so many other places, exotic species often have taken center stage in the hearts and minds of those controlling the landscape. And why not? Especially in an age where so many pleasures are deemed to come best from artificial sources, reveling in biological beauty and charm is hardly something to be looked down upon, exotic or native model notwithstanding. If I lived in the South, I would surely experiment would any number of palms, broadleaved evergreens, azaleas, amaryllis, hardy citrus, etc. The attraction is hardly a new one, either. Compared to the continental winters experienced in New England and as far south as Philadelphia, the Virginians and Carolinians found that when they had acquired enough security and basic economic vitality, they could start living dreams perhaps even out of the reach of their rank back in England.
Of course, some of these dreamers did so at the expense of their fellow, enslaved, human persons, but there were also those who did not. The ordinary Virginians and Carolinians, and certainly almost all of the Georgians found that while they might not have had the same amount of leisure time to devote to gardening as their richer social masters, gardens here could sometimes take off on their own with just a little bit of prodding. Grand, cultivated estates of said social masters were concerned with mimicking the fancy Stuart-era estates back in England, complete with more boxwood hedge than is healthy, but these estates do not live on in modern gardens the way that the organic development of the common man's garden would. As for the ranks of slaves which made the great estate grounds possible, they too would leave an indelible mark on gardens and agriculture, often in the work of very famous individuals like George Washington Carver. Carver, in fact, was my first real exposure to Black anything. Yes, there are Black Canadians, and in fact we even have national historic sites dedicated to Black Canadians over yonder, but I did not grow up in any particular part of Ontario where I came across a Black person short of seeing a film clip of Martin Luther King Jr. marching across the bridge at Selma.
When I was 12 we moved to southeastern Michigan, but perhaps in preparation to understand my new surroundings, my parents took me to the Henry Ford Museum and associated Greenfield Village. At the time, there was an extensive exhibit on the work of Carver, along with a very excellent actor portraying the man in the next best thing to his flesh and blood presence. Together with some of the people also on the tour, who happened to have dark skin, I saw my first Black people, and my impression was that they were pretty amazing with plants. Since that time I have come to learn that no small portion of the agricultural prowess of this nation is in part to the work of men and women like Carver, and many of them, White or Black or whatever, have brought us to where we are today. In spite of poverty, slavery, and denial to expensive formal education, these people, many from the "horrid, racist South" delivered to the rest of us from their situations complete gems.
That said, gardening and agricultural history is still an unfurling topic of discovery for me. Perhaps I should have become an ethno-botanist instead of the direct variety, but I find myself hungry as heck for an area of ethno-botany that does not get a lot of press these days, that of the common people of the South. Yes, there are giant confederate flags painted on top of gas stations near airports in Atlanta and Memphis. Yes, there are people who think that the world revolves around their little patch of free, white Alabama. Guess what? Those types also live in Michigan, Pennsylvania, and even (gasp) Southern California. We ought never to throw out the blessings of an entire region because of a few dull stars out there in the human firmament. In the meantime, I'm going to remain interested in Southerners like Elvis Presley and Jackie Robinson who helped to kick the crap out of the underlying racism in this country. I'm going to remain curious about settlement patterns of Mississippi and Alabama by ordinary settlers not intent on setting up huge plantations or killing any Creek or Chocktaw in sight. Finally, to quote Janisse Ray, I'm definitely going to be interested in gardens with subtropical elements and growing seasons that I absolutely drool in envy over.
The South, you see, was saved not by some post-bellum Yankee restoration plan or home-grown politician trying to reclaim a ridiculous sense of false inheritance, but by the White, Black, or Native person next door.
Q: Surely you are aware of the intense racism and inhumanity that plagues your beloved Southern "culture", polite gardens or architecture or otherwise? The South is an embarrassment on this country and you are exposing some personal racist tendencies toward history here.
The South has amazing agricultural and gardening potential. The lowcountry affords a long growing season which can account for the vast majority of the year, while the backcountry offers moderation in the region's otherwise blistering summer sun and enough winter chill to permit northern delights to slip in the scenery. Naturally speaking, there is so much of everything right in soil, sun, and moisture that nature can run rampant here given the chance to. This can result in seemingly unstoppable plagues of kudzu, but it can also result in an incredibly potent power behind natural reclamation.
American Voyages has thus far taken us on a tour of the landscapes of the South and the sentiment they have held for the region's inhabitants, both first and second born. In some cases, the flora and fauna are beloved and considered quintessential to understanding the character of the culture which has developed here. In others, such as with the many pines of the region, the backdrop has been simply wallpaper and, at best, a bonus feature. Here, as in so many other places, exotic species often have taken center stage in the hearts and minds of those controlling the landscape. And why not? Especially in an age where so many pleasures are deemed to come best from artificial sources, reveling in biological beauty and charm is hardly something to be looked down upon, exotic or native model notwithstanding. If I lived in the South, I would surely experiment would any number of palms, broadleaved evergreens, azaleas, amaryllis, hardy citrus, etc. The attraction is hardly a new one, either. Compared to the continental winters experienced in New England and as far south as Philadelphia, the Virginians and Carolinians found that when they had acquired enough security and basic economic vitality, they could start living dreams perhaps even out of the reach of their rank back in England.
Of course, some of these dreamers did so at the expense of their fellow, enslaved, human persons, but there were also those who did not. The ordinary Virginians and Carolinians, and certainly almost all of the Georgians found that while they might not have had the same amount of leisure time to devote to gardening as their richer social masters, gardens here could sometimes take off on their own with just a little bit of prodding. Grand, cultivated estates of said social masters were concerned with mimicking the fancy Stuart-era estates back in England, complete with more boxwood hedge than is healthy, but these estates do not live on in modern gardens the way that the organic development of the common man's garden would. As for the ranks of slaves which made the great estate grounds possible, they too would leave an indelible mark on gardens and agriculture, often in the work of very famous individuals like George Washington Carver. Carver, in fact, was my first real exposure to Black anything. Yes, there are Black Canadians, and in fact we even have national historic sites dedicated to Black Canadians over yonder, but I did not grow up in any particular part of Ontario where I came across a Black person short of seeing a film clip of Martin Luther King Jr. marching across the bridge at Selma.
When I was 12 we moved to southeastern Michigan, but perhaps in preparation to understand my new surroundings, my parents took me to the Henry Ford Museum and associated Greenfield Village. At the time, there was an extensive exhibit on the work of Carver, along with a very excellent actor portraying the man in the next best thing to his flesh and blood presence. Together with some of the people also on the tour, who happened to have dark skin, I saw my first Black people, and my impression was that they were pretty amazing with plants. Since that time I have come to learn that no small portion of the agricultural prowess of this nation is in part to the work of men and women like Carver, and many of them, White or Black or whatever, have brought us to where we are today. In spite of poverty, slavery, and denial to expensive formal education, these people, many from the "horrid, racist South" delivered to the rest of us from their situations complete gems.
That said, gardening and agricultural history is still an unfurling topic of discovery for me. Perhaps I should have become an ethno-botanist instead of the direct variety, but I find myself hungry as heck for an area of ethno-botany that does not get a lot of press these days, that of the common people of the South. Yes, there are giant confederate flags painted on top of gas stations near airports in Atlanta and Memphis. Yes, there are people who think that the world revolves around their little patch of free, white Alabama. Guess what? Those types also live in Michigan, Pennsylvania, and even (gasp) Southern California. We ought never to throw out the blessings of an entire region because of a few dull stars out there in the human firmament. In the meantime, I'm going to remain interested in Southerners like Elvis Presley and Jackie Robinson who helped to kick the crap out of the underlying racism in this country. I'm going to remain curious about settlement patterns of Mississippi and Alabama by ordinary settlers not intent on setting up huge plantations or killing any Creek or Chocktaw in sight. Finally, to quote Janisse Ray, I'm definitely going to be interested in gardens with subtropical elements and growing seasons that I absolutely drool in envy over.
The South, you see, was saved not by some post-bellum Yankee restoration plan or home-grown politician trying to reclaim a ridiculous sense of false inheritance, but by the White, Black, or Native person next door.
Saturday, November 23, 2013
12 Years A Slave In Review
\Last post I promised some palm trees, and I do not intend to disappoint, but I would also like to serve up a review of a film I saw last night, namely 12 Years a Slave. It's an incredible film with art direction that puts director Steve McQueen into the same artistic pantheon as Rossellini or Bergman and is a much needed dose of reality in an age when popular images of the plantation era are given off as something of slapstick racism at best or a romantic confession at worst. As we celebrate the victory over chattel slavery won at Vicksburg and Gettysburg this very year, we ought to be mindful that such fighting was far from merely over some sick, twisted defense of States' rights. Yes, there were many underlying causes of friction between Union and Confederacy, but ultimately, to claim that slavery was not the source and summit of cause for a nation being torn apart is a fundamental disrespect to a very painful and sacred chapter in the history of humanity.
And oh yes, there are palm trees, and an absolutely incredible look at the American Southern landscape, or at least the low country therein. In following the kidnapping and enslavement of freedman Solomon Northrup, the film takes us from the upper Hudson Valley in New York down to Washington (past an incredible shot of a human being made into property, fittingly, under the shadow of the temple of the United States Congress. From then on we get to see quite a bit of the Deep South in low country Louisiana, complete with palms of the Sabal genus, magnolias, baldcypress (Taxodium Distichum), Live Oak (Quercus Virginiana), and an absolute TON of Spanish Moss (Tillandsia Usneoides). Now normally, this is among the most lovely setting of vegetation anywhere on this earth. Everything is green, lush, luxuriant, and yet not overly confining so as to create an overbearing jungle.
 |
| A street somewhere in Beaufort, SC. While this is a semi-cultivated landscape (I noticed that among ordinary neighborhoods gardens and planting were allowed to flow without a lot of pruning), you can tell from the trees and shrubs that neither canopy nor sky reign supreme on their own. We will revisit the general concept in a later post. Everything just looks organic, flowing, and relaxed really, like much of the South. |
Yet for the most part in the film, McQueen has set out to have the camera fix on a focus and lighting that makes the whole thing look sickly and tired. Instead of incredible drapes of moss, we see trees festered in it along with baldcypresses, tupelos, and magnolias that are defoliated and gangly. This compliments the plantations where Solomon, now re-named Platt (which can mean, for Louisiana especially, flat in French or alternatively an old word for silver in English), gets pushed around to. With the exception of Mr. Ford's manse, we hardly see grand, polished estates. The houses are dirty, the interiors are sparse, and even the masters of the manor are looking a bit disheveled. There are stomping forced dances rather than graceful ballrooms full of lovely dames and debonair gentlemen. The whole set up does little to implore the viewer to lament the tragic romance of a soon-to-perish Antebellum South. Once Mr. Ford is removed from the scene, any semblance of that lovely imaginary world vanishes, house, people, landscape, and all.
But we did see a little bit of that in this film, which McQueen uses to great effect to prove a point. Solomon gets treated well, the landscape looks a bit more inviting (even while things are in a swamp along the Red River and we see little of cotton picking, cane gathering, or other typical agricultural ventures). We see the slaves clearing a little land, constructing buildings, even encountering some of the First Born who were wandering the last vestiges of what they could find before Europeans totally changed their world. The action is that of exploration, encountering a new, albeit uninvited world. Things look more exotic than sedate New York or distressingly urban Washington, and definitely more relieved than stressful slave market New Orleans. We see a decent plantation with a well-mannered Ford and a true-to-form, if insensitive, lady of the house. Solomon's talents are appreciated, and he sets into survival mode while also thinking about escape. Overall, it seems as if things could be a lot worse. We see construction and creation. Feeling complacent? We are reminded very sharply that for all his generosity of spirit and apparent gentility, Ford is still a slave owner who treats people as property. As such, we also see our first overseers and start hearing "Nigger" almost every other line.
The swamps then start looking less luxuriant and more nauseous, those broad-limbed oaks start looking more like little other than convenient lynching posts, and the moss and palmettos start reminding us that this place is hot, uncomfortable, and malarial. Moving on to the next plantations, we see less of a settlement with slavery-made-possible ornamentation and more of a series of work farms meant to use humans purely for profit. Notably, in the shabby houses and clothing of the owners, we see very few fruits of such overwhelming profit, as if to say that even could slavery be economically justifiable, it simply has not fit the bill even then. Speculatively, this makes one question just how much wealth really got passed around at the expense of an entire race. We see a lot of labor, poverty even in the middle man plantation owners, and the fancy scenes of Gone With the Wind left only in the hands of a select few at the very top. There is possible political commentary on present economic conditions here, but more than likely, this truly is reaching (this is slavery, a bit more intense than a wage issue... right?) Instead we go for less speculation and more reality and see that even the master of the house does not put on his Sunday best every day when things are 95 and dripping. The house might afford a little mess during the cultivation periods. See how many different ways things are already being twisted?
If anything, that is what is supremely brilliant about this film. Yes, we do see a lot of brutality and a cold bucket of water thrown at us in the face of a disconnect of 150 passing years of fading memory. More so, however, we also see attempted justification for the rape of not just an entire people, but all peoples. We get to see peace feelers trying to pave the road for a defeat for humanity. Even when we see Patsy constantly dragged into the mud and slashed open within an inch of her life, completely broken and crying in some of the most emotionally honest acting ever seen... we try to rationalize. We can't though. The music alone keeps reminding us that we are faced with something first and final about the way things are between people. In the end we see one human being turn another one into something less than animal. In the end, we have hope. The moss looks graceful again and whitewash covers blemishes and dirt. A man's soul stares into our own through eyes that should cause anyone truly humble to melt onto the floor. My readers, go see this film. Take your older children, or any children, that will understand even the mere difference between right and wrong. I dare say it will awaken in all a new spirit of seeking understanding and exploration into not just North American, but human history in general and sympathy, if not empathy, for the suffering. Would that there were films of this caliber for the other darker places in our continental history.
In the meantime, check around here more frequently for a bit more of a look at the better side of the South. If you do see the film, this might give you an appreciation for how McQueen managed to strip the veneer off the image. After all, as God created her, the low country is a truly amazing place.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
The Battle of Wilson's Creek: The Story
In contrast to the much more organized affair that was the start of war in Virginia, the start of the war west of the Appalachians was an entirely different story, full of nervous anticipation, emotionally-charged contests, and almost guerrilla warfare. Kentucky was occupied fairly early in the course of the war, which prevented it from siding with the Confederacy, despite it being a slave state. Missouri initially opted for a sort of neutrality, pledging to remain outside of both the fighting and economic support of either side during the war. Missouri, however, was a land of residents who declared themselves strongly for both sides of the conflict.
Missouri was founded specifically as a slave state back in 1820 in the start of a pattern of admitting both a slave and a free state to the union to maintain a congressional balance between pro and anti-slavery factions. The state was then heavily settled by slave-owners who took advantage of the readily-available bottomlands along both the Missouri and Mississippi rivers. Unlike the rest of the slave states, however, Missouri was along the prime western migration corridor, and migrants arriving from the south were soon joined and outnumbered by migrants from both the eastern United States and Europe. Many of these arrivals had no interest in slavery, and even when they did not finds themselves at odds with the plantation owners, they formed a distinctly different culture from them, with different needs and philosophies of life. Based on economic differences alone, the new subsistence farmers and the plantation owners were already quite at odds with another. Then, in 1854, neighboring Kansas was opened up to settlement under the concept of popular sovereignty, and all hell broke loose. Kansas would be declared a free or slave state based on how many settlers of each made their way into the land.
While the Civil War in general is often considered to be a conflict that pitted brother against brother, the nature of the war in the western states, owing to popular sovereignty and the mess that was "Bleeding Kansas", was one of a very viscous hatred of neighbor against neighbor. Lawrence, Kansas was almost completely ransacked by raiders from nearby Missouri, who were intent on making sure Kansas would not end up a free state. Even though it was not under the concept of popular sovereignty, Missouri was no less a hot bed of contention owing to its mixed background of settlement. The important thing to remember is that this was no mere debate of slavery and freedom, but an ugly conflict involving racism and cultural bigotry. By the time war began, Kansas was a free state, and Missouri found itself mired in a contest between people who would just as soon shoot one another as they would wait for marching orders. As was the plan for Kentucky, Missouri was to be seized as soon as possible by Union forces so that Confederate forces would never be given a chance to be mustered. The locals and the Arkansans had different ideas.
By July of 1861, the Missouri State Guard had received reinforcements from Arkansas, as well as Confederate troops from Louisiana and other places. Union forces, well aware of the disposition of the enemy, had already seized control of St. Louis and had encamped near Springfield, Missouri by July 13th. By early August, it became clear that the Union forces under General Nathaniel Lyon were vastly outnumbered by Confederate sympathizers pouring into the region. Lyon knew he needed to retreat and reinforce his numbers, but he also knew he needed to slow down his pursuers. In consequence, on August 10th, at 5:00 in the morning, the Battle of Wilson's Creek began. Tensions were already so high, however, that the Confederate forces, really just made up of ordinary Missouri and Arkansas militia, were more than ready to respond to this assault. Lyon tried desperately to form lines and advance against the enemy, but they were able to repel most counter-attacks strike for strike. Eventually, as was the case at Manassas, a relatively green army was not properly prepared to communicate between units, and Union forces became separated from one another, all the more so because they were well out of sight in the complicated landscape of the battlefield.
Despite some success on the part of the Iowa infantry, who were wearing the same colored uniforms as the Louisianans, things did not go well for Union forces. They were kept in check, never able to make serious advances, and the leadership was getting killed. Lyon, in fact, became the first Union general to die in the war. Their spirits sunk, and the objective to take out the pursuing force pretty much moot at this point, the surviving Union forces retreated to Rolla, Missouri. All the same, just about as many "Confederates" were killed at this point, and their forces were indeed unable to pursue the Union survivors, despite taking the battlefield. Wilson's Creek thus ended up being a tactical victory for the Union, though in all seriousness, even with later victories in Arkansas, this was at best a Pyrrhic victory. For nearly the rest of the war, Missouri would be the scene of fierce guerrilla warfare, and the state suffered some of the most severe losses of any land in the United States.
The battle itself, in fact, was far from an orderly affair. Traditional line warfare simply did not happen here, and the smaller skirmishes going on throughout the battlefield were extremely bloody in comparison to Manassas. Here, men not only shot to kill, but to maim, and combatants quickly broke down into savage hand to hand combat, complete with an even more savage fight coming from their mouths. The men, you see, were not exactly regular troops or even conscripts, but locals, locals who needed little provocation or orders to attack their neighbors. Such venomous hatred, combined with a familiarity of the rough landscape, and an August day that could not be more hot or humid, well, it made things very disgusting. The film shown at the visitor center of the present day national battlefield documents this well, but is mild in comparison to what things must have really been like. The battle remains a sacred event in the lives of Missourians, a reminder of just how much the state has suffered through. As such, the capitol building in Jefferson City features a very large mural of the battle, a piece of art which is very difficult to look at with a passing glare once one knows exactly what it depicts.
Missouri was founded specifically as a slave state back in 1820 in the start of a pattern of admitting both a slave and a free state to the union to maintain a congressional balance between pro and anti-slavery factions. The state was then heavily settled by slave-owners who took advantage of the readily-available bottomlands along both the Missouri and Mississippi rivers. Unlike the rest of the slave states, however, Missouri was along the prime western migration corridor, and migrants arriving from the south were soon joined and outnumbered by migrants from both the eastern United States and Europe. Many of these arrivals had no interest in slavery, and even when they did not finds themselves at odds with the plantation owners, they formed a distinctly different culture from them, with different needs and philosophies of life. Based on economic differences alone, the new subsistence farmers and the plantation owners were already quite at odds with another. Then, in 1854, neighboring Kansas was opened up to settlement under the concept of popular sovereignty, and all hell broke loose. Kansas would be declared a free or slave state based on how many settlers of each made their way into the land.
While the Civil War in general is often considered to be a conflict that pitted brother against brother, the nature of the war in the western states, owing to popular sovereignty and the mess that was "Bleeding Kansas", was one of a very viscous hatred of neighbor against neighbor. Lawrence, Kansas was almost completely ransacked by raiders from nearby Missouri, who were intent on making sure Kansas would not end up a free state. Even though it was not under the concept of popular sovereignty, Missouri was no less a hot bed of contention owing to its mixed background of settlement. The important thing to remember is that this was no mere debate of slavery and freedom, but an ugly conflict involving racism and cultural bigotry. By the time war began, Kansas was a free state, and Missouri found itself mired in a contest between people who would just as soon shoot one another as they would wait for marching orders. As was the plan for Kentucky, Missouri was to be seized as soon as possible by Union forces so that Confederate forces would never be given a chance to be mustered. The locals and the Arkansans had different ideas.
By July of 1861, the Missouri State Guard had received reinforcements from Arkansas, as well as Confederate troops from Louisiana and other places. Union forces, well aware of the disposition of the enemy, had already seized control of St. Louis and had encamped near Springfield, Missouri by July 13th. By early August, it became clear that the Union forces under General Nathaniel Lyon were vastly outnumbered by Confederate sympathizers pouring into the region. Lyon knew he needed to retreat and reinforce his numbers, but he also knew he needed to slow down his pursuers. In consequence, on August 10th, at 5:00 in the morning, the Battle of Wilson's Creek began. Tensions were already so high, however, that the Confederate forces, really just made up of ordinary Missouri and Arkansas militia, were more than ready to respond to this assault. Lyon tried desperately to form lines and advance against the enemy, but they were able to repel most counter-attacks strike for strike. Eventually, as was the case at Manassas, a relatively green army was not properly prepared to communicate between units, and Union forces became separated from one another, all the more so because they were well out of sight in the complicated landscape of the battlefield.
Despite some success on the part of the Iowa infantry, who were wearing the same colored uniforms as the Louisianans, things did not go well for Union forces. They were kept in check, never able to make serious advances, and the leadership was getting killed. Lyon, in fact, became the first Union general to die in the war. Their spirits sunk, and the objective to take out the pursuing force pretty much moot at this point, the surviving Union forces retreated to Rolla, Missouri. All the same, just about as many "Confederates" were killed at this point, and their forces were indeed unable to pursue the Union survivors, despite taking the battlefield. Wilson's Creek thus ended up being a tactical victory for the Union, though in all seriousness, even with later victories in Arkansas, this was at best a Pyrrhic victory. For nearly the rest of the war, Missouri would be the scene of fierce guerrilla warfare, and the state suffered some of the most severe losses of any land in the United States.
The battle itself, in fact, was far from an orderly affair. Traditional line warfare simply did not happen here, and the smaller skirmishes going on throughout the battlefield were extremely bloody in comparison to Manassas. Here, men not only shot to kill, but to maim, and combatants quickly broke down into savage hand to hand combat, complete with an even more savage fight coming from their mouths. The men, you see, were not exactly regular troops or even conscripts, but locals, locals who needed little provocation or orders to attack their neighbors. Such venomous hatred, combined with a familiarity of the rough landscape, and an August day that could not be more hot or humid, well, it made things very disgusting. The film shown at the visitor center of the present day national battlefield documents this well, but is mild in comparison to what things must have really been like. The battle remains a sacred event in the lives of Missourians, a reminder of just how much the state has suffered through. As such, the capitol building in Jefferson City features a very large mural of the battle, a piece of art which is very difficult to look at with a passing glare once one knows exactly what it depicts.
Monday, May 7, 2012
Segregation Outside of the South
Yesterday we took a look at the grave of Elvis Presley, and I made a few remarks about his role on helping to end racial segregation in the United States. While he was not one of those brave students who simply tried to walk to school in Little Rock or a very special woman who refused to take a seat all the way in the back of the bus when many of the front seats were open, he attacked the hind quarters of the beast of racism: de facto (rather than de jure), or passive segregation. What is passive segregation? Essentially, it is an unenforced apartheid wherein racial groups tend to stick to themselves, thinking that that the "other" people have either nothing to offer them, or at worst have an undesirable lifestyle. Pretty much all of humanity experiences this, even in supposed havens of tolerance. In Canada, for instance, French and English speakers did not really mingle amicably until the 1960's (and that is just a cultural divide). In Mexico, some of the wealthier mestizos from the northern and central cities tend to look down on the "blanket wearing Indians" who live in Oaxaca or Chiapas. In the United States, where segregation of races was actually enforced, things got a bit more extreme.
In the northern states, you would usually be hard pressed to hear about lynch mobs, everyone would drink at the same drinking fountain, and someone walking down Woodward avenue in Detroit in the 1950's was just as likely to be black as they were to be white. All the same, different groups tended to actually live in their own neighborhoods, and by and large, your average church or school would pretty much be all black or all white. Heck, until that same decade, some neighborhoods and their social institutions were pretty much all Polish or entirely of some other ethnic group! No one thought much about it at the time; such people lived where they wanted to by choice, rather than law... or fear, right? Maybe. Maybe not. Because the United States had been taking in the rest of the world as immigrants, the country was a pretty diverse place, far more so than any other nation in history, save maybe Imperial Rome. The concept took some getting used to, and then, as now, some groups were worried that their identity would be expunged by all the new groups melting together.
Warning: Soapbox Rant.
Today we have white Americans fearful of domination by Hispanics, who fear in turn that their kids are getting too comfortable with being Americans. While that is a post for another day, I would have to tell my readers not to freak out from one side or the other. English is here to stay, because if your kids play video games, and they do, they chat over microphones with people around the world in it. The kids might speak Spanish at home, but so what? Many of the founding fathers spoke multiple languages, and they never forgot how to swear in English. We might start eating more tacos, but we pretty much have been eating spaghetti and other assimilated foods for a century now, and coke, burgers, bacon and eggs, and steaks from Wyoming and Texas have yet to disappear. Finally, no one likes paying more taxes, and this will be the thing that holds all true Americans together. The point is, even in the north, we have tendencies to stick to our own folks, which is a choice, and is fine. The downside of exclusivity is that we can erect barriers between one another accidentally out of choice, and not because we are actively racist.
End Warning.
While my first instinct is to point out 8 mile road in Detroit as a prime example of this behavior, the situation of passive segregation in that city, as well as in other rust belt cities like Buffalo, Gary, and Chicago, is a bit more complicated than simply pointing a finger at choices and blaming everything on our preferences. Instead, let's head over to Kansas, specifically to Topeka. Now, Kansas has a history of disliking racism that started back in the decade before the Civil War when it was opened up to the concept of "popular sovereignty". Basically, the state settlers got to choose if Kansas would allow slavery or not, simply by how many pro or anti-slavery people would move in. It got pretty messy, needless to say. In the end, the abolitionists won, and their victory was cemented in the Civil War. Still, there were enough people of the opposite camp around that voiced their opinions in the state government who managed to enact laws that enforced racial segregation in schools. In 1896, in the case of Plessy vs. Ferguson, the Supreme Court of the United States confirmed their right to keep people separated, and any law in the United States that supported separate but equal facilities were upheld as legal. Such laws were usually present and enforced only in the southern states, while most of the northern states forbade such laws as contrary to their individual constitutions. Then there were states, most in the west, that had a sort of ambivalence about them, like Kansas.
Topeka, for the most part, was a pretty relaxed city that did not have a ton of racial tension. Like most of Kansas, it welcomed freed slaves following the Civil War, and the city featured the first black schools to be founded west of the Mississippi. When segregation laws did come around eventually, they were not much of a big deal, as the schools already tended to be de facto segregated just based on the demographics of the neighborhood. Only the elementary schools were segregated, as Topeka High School had been integrated since it was founded in 1871. The schools were funded in equal measure with their white counterparts, and reportedly had good teachers and facilities. One of the elementary schools still stands, and now serves as the centerpiece for Brown vs. Board of Education National Historic Site.
So what was the problem, and why did the court case I just mention get some press from sleepy Topeka? Well, once World War II was over, the country started seeing a rapid expansion of its cities, owing to renewed prosperity and a ton of new automobiles being on the roads. The American Dream started to include a nice house with a big yard that came with a larger commute time and neighborhoods being broken up as people headed for new, open areas of the city environs. Topeka was no exception to this expansion, and all of sudden, some parents found that they did not have a school that they could legally send their children to, unless they wanted to send their kids all the way across town. Some concerned parents found that the local legislature was uneasy about opening up a potential hornet's nest of racial warfare, and refused to properly attend to the situation. One such parent, Oliver Brown, took the matter to the Supreme Court, where the justices were already reviewing similar cases from across the country. In the end, Plessy vs. Ferguson was overturned, and Topeka quietly adapted to the situation. In the south, the situation was a bit less friendly...
Anyway, within a few decades, de facto segregation largely evaporated from much of the rest of the country. People like Elvis helped to break down these barriers from a cultural standpoint, while people such as Brown took the challenge on a bit more directly. Yes, we still have divides between people, but these days we are largely at a point where the matter is able to be talked about, and often, laughed over. The challenges these days largely stem from a political corruption of the issues, which should not be a shock considering the age we live in. What remains of race and class tension has in some ways become transformed into ideological polarization which feeds the existence of career politicians and the interest groups which support them.
In the northern states, you would usually be hard pressed to hear about lynch mobs, everyone would drink at the same drinking fountain, and someone walking down Woodward avenue in Detroit in the 1950's was just as likely to be black as they were to be white. All the same, different groups tended to actually live in their own neighborhoods, and by and large, your average church or school would pretty much be all black or all white. Heck, until that same decade, some neighborhoods and their social institutions were pretty much all Polish or entirely of some other ethnic group! No one thought much about it at the time; such people lived where they wanted to by choice, rather than law... or fear, right? Maybe. Maybe not. Because the United States had been taking in the rest of the world as immigrants, the country was a pretty diverse place, far more so than any other nation in history, save maybe Imperial Rome. The concept took some getting used to, and then, as now, some groups were worried that their identity would be expunged by all the new groups melting together.
Warning: Soapbox Rant.
Today we have white Americans fearful of domination by Hispanics, who fear in turn that their kids are getting too comfortable with being Americans. While that is a post for another day, I would have to tell my readers not to freak out from one side or the other. English is here to stay, because if your kids play video games, and they do, they chat over microphones with people around the world in it. The kids might speak Spanish at home, but so what? Many of the founding fathers spoke multiple languages, and they never forgot how to swear in English. We might start eating more tacos, but we pretty much have been eating spaghetti and other assimilated foods for a century now, and coke, burgers, bacon and eggs, and steaks from Wyoming and Texas have yet to disappear. Finally, no one likes paying more taxes, and this will be the thing that holds all true Americans together. The point is, even in the north, we have tendencies to stick to our own folks, which is a choice, and is fine. The downside of exclusivity is that we can erect barriers between one another accidentally out of choice, and not because we are actively racist.
End Warning.
While my first instinct is to point out 8 mile road in Detroit as a prime example of this behavior, the situation of passive segregation in that city, as well as in other rust belt cities like Buffalo, Gary, and Chicago, is a bit more complicated than simply pointing a finger at choices and blaming everything on our preferences. Instead, let's head over to Kansas, specifically to Topeka. Now, Kansas has a history of disliking racism that started back in the decade before the Civil War when it was opened up to the concept of "popular sovereignty". Basically, the state settlers got to choose if Kansas would allow slavery or not, simply by how many pro or anti-slavery people would move in. It got pretty messy, needless to say. In the end, the abolitionists won, and their victory was cemented in the Civil War. Still, there were enough people of the opposite camp around that voiced their opinions in the state government who managed to enact laws that enforced racial segregation in schools. In 1896, in the case of Plessy vs. Ferguson, the Supreme Court of the United States confirmed their right to keep people separated, and any law in the United States that supported separate but equal facilities were upheld as legal. Such laws were usually present and enforced only in the southern states, while most of the northern states forbade such laws as contrary to their individual constitutions. Then there were states, most in the west, that had a sort of ambivalence about them, like Kansas.
Topeka, for the most part, was a pretty relaxed city that did not have a ton of racial tension. Like most of Kansas, it welcomed freed slaves following the Civil War, and the city featured the first black schools to be founded west of the Mississippi. When segregation laws did come around eventually, they were not much of a big deal, as the schools already tended to be de facto segregated just based on the demographics of the neighborhood. Only the elementary schools were segregated, as Topeka High School had been integrated since it was founded in 1871. The schools were funded in equal measure with their white counterparts, and reportedly had good teachers and facilities. One of the elementary schools still stands, and now serves as the centerpiece for Brown vs. Board of Education National Historic Site.
So what was the problem, and why did the court case I just mention get some press from sleepy Topeka? Well, once World War II was over, the country started seeing a rapid expansion of its cities, owing to renewed prosperity and a ton of new automobiles being on the roads. The American Dream started to include a nice house with a big yard that came with a larger commute time and neighborhoods being broken up as people headed for new, open areas of the city environs. Topeka was no exception to this expansion, and all of sudden, some parents found that they did not have a school that they could legally send their children to, unless they wanted to send their kids all the way across town. Some concerned parents found that the local legislature was uneasy about opening up a potential hornet's nest of racial warfare, and refused to properly attend to the situation. One such parent, Oliver Brown, took the matter to the Supreme Court, where the justices were already reviewing similar cases from across the country. In the end, Plessy vs. Ferguson was overturned, and Topeka quietly adapted to the situation. In the south, the situation was a bit less friendly...
Anyway, within a few decades, de facto segregation largely evaporated from much of the rest of the country. People like Elvis helped to break down these barriers from a cultural standpoint, while people such as Brown took the challenge on a bit more directly. Yes, we still have divides between people, but these days we are largely at a point where the matter is able to be talked about, and often, laughed over. The challenges these days largely stem from a political corruption of the issues, which should not be a shock considering the age we live in. What remains of race and class tension has in some ways become transformed into ideological polarization which feeds the existence of career politicians and the interest groups which support them.
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