tag:theconversation.com,2011:/ca-fr/topics/lynching-15993/articlesLynching – La Conversation2024-02-12T13:24:56Ztag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2216772024-02-12T13:24:56Z2024-02-12T13:24:56ZCan anyone make a citizen’s arrest? The history and legalities of catching criminals yourself<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574490/original/file-20240208-28-q5mmu6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C6%2C4600%2C2452&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Can you detain someone you just saw break the law?</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/photo/man-mugging-woman-in-street-royalty-free-image/BC3542-001">Alan Thornton/The Image Bank via Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><figure class="align-left ">
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<p><em><a href="https://theconversation.com/us/topics/curious-kids-us-74795">Curious Kids</a> is a series for children of all ages. If you have a question you’d like an expert to answer, send it to <a href="mailto:curiouskidsus@theconversation.com">curiouskidsus@theconversation.com</a>.</em></p>
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<p><strong>Can anyone make a citizen’s arrest, even me? – Henry, age 12, Winter Hill, Massachusetts</strong></p>
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<p>What does Spider-Man do when he sees someone commit a crime and there are no police officers around to help? He swings in, wraps the wrongdoer in his web and leaves them hanging from a telephone pole until the cops take over. </p>
<p>But is he allowed to do that? Are you?</p>
<h2>Seizing criminals</h2>
<p>Until about 200 years ago, uniformed police officers and police departments as we know them today <a href="https://time.com/4779112/police-history-origins/">didn’t exist in the United States</a>. It was up to the citizens to arrest criminals.</p>
<p>In 1285, England introduced what we now know as “citizen’s arrests” in a law called <a href="https://study.sagepub.com/rowe3e/student-resources/chapter-3/the-statute-of-winchester">the Statute of Winchester</a>. It allowed any person to arrest – in other words, capture – lawbreakers. This concept spread throughout the English colonies, which ultimately became their own countries, including Australia, Canada and the United States. Other <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Citizen%27s_arrest">countries have adopted similar rules</a>.</p>
<p>In the United States, citizen’s arrests have a pretty dark history. Originally, <a href="https://www.fastcompany.com/90528764/the-troubling-history-of-citizens-arrests-from-slave-patrols-to-ahmaud-arbery-to-ice">only white men could make citizen’s arrests</a>. By the mid-1600s, many militias and city watchmen, especially in the South, used that power to <a href="https://www.fastcompany.com/90528764/the-troubling-history-of-citizens-arrests-from-slave-patrols-to-ahmaud-arbery-to-ice">intimidate and terrorize enslaved and free Black communities</a>.</p>
<p>This practice continued <a href="https://racism.org/articles/law-and-justice/criminal-justice-and-racism/134-police-brutality-and-lynchings/9617-a-legacy">through the Civil War</a>, <a href="https://historynewsnetwork.org/article/175619">the Jim Crow era and even into the 1900s</a>, with vigilantes – people who appoint themselves to catch and punish others – engaging in heinous abuses, <a href="https://theconversation.com/lynching-memorial-shows-women-were-victims-too-95029">including lynchings</a>. Just recently, in 2020, Ahmaud Arbery, a Black man who was jogging around his Georgia neighborhood, <a href="https://theconversation.com/jury-finds-3-georgia-men-guilty-of-ahmaud-arbery-murder-3-essential-reads-172493">was shot and killed</a> by a group of white men who accosted him because they wrongly thought he had committed a crime.</p>
<p>Despite this history, most states still have citizen’s arrest <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/nation/2021/11/05/ahmaud-arbery-citizens-arrest-vigilante/">laws on the books</a>.</p>
<h2>Making a legal citizen’s arrest</h2>
<p>Arrest literally means “to stop.” If someone wants to leave, you usually can’t stop them – that could be considered false imprisonment or even kidnapping. Citizen’s arrest laws are an exception to that general rule; they allow everyday people to make an arrest.</p>
<p>When the police make an arrest, they typically handcuff the subject and take them in a secure transport vehicle to a booking facility, such as the county jail. When Spidey webs a wrongdoer, he can’t just take them back to Aunt May’s apartment. Making a citizen’s arrest means holding the lawbreaker in place until the police arrive and take over.</p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574491/original/file-20240208-24-qtcx1d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A blurry, dark black-and-white picture of a figure holding what could be a knife, or something else entirely" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574491/original/file-20240208-24-qtcx1d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574491/original/file-20240208-24-qtcx1d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574491/original/file-20240208-24-qtcx1d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574491/original/file-20240208-24-qtcx1d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574491/original/file-20240208-24-qtcx1d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574491/original/file-20240208-24-qtcx1d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574491/original/file-20240208-24-qtcx1d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">You’d better be sure about what you think you saw.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/photo/man-holding-knife-in-kitchen-rear-view-silhouette-royalty-free-image/588312130">Glasshouse Images/The Image Bank via Getty Images</a></span>
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<p>When can someone make a citizen’s arrest? The rules are a bit different in every state, which can make things confusing. You can ask a librarian to help you find information about the law in your state, but here are some common requirements to get you started:</p>
<p><strong>Who can make a citizen’s arrest?</strong> Although some state laws use the word “<a href="https://www.scstatehouse.gov/code/t17c013.php">citizen</a>,” most states allow any “<a href="https://statutes.capitol.texas.gov/Docs/CR/htm/CR.14.htm">person</a>” or any “<a href="https://www.revisor.mn.gov/statutes/cite/629.37">private person</a>” – as opposed to a public employee such as a police officer – to make a citizen’s arrest. Despite the name, you usually don’t have to be a citizen. And most states don’t require any minimum age, so it looks like high school student Peter Parker, Spider-Man’s alter ego, is good to go.</p>
<p><strong>Did you see it, and how serious is it?</strong> Most states allow you to make a citizen’s arrest for a minor crime – those <a href="https://www.britannica.com/topic/crime-law/Classification-of-crimes">categorized as a misdemeanor</a> – only if you actually saw the person commit the crime. Some states allow a citizen’s arrest for a minor crime only if it is considered a “breach of peace,” meaning the crime is likely to disturb other people, such as fighting in public. For felonies, a more serious category of crime, the law usually allows you to make a citizen’s arrest even if you didn’t see the person commit the crime.</p>
<p><strong>You’d better be sure!</strong> In most states, citizen’s arrest laws apply only if the person actually committed a crime. If you make a mistake by making a citizen’s arrest of someone who didn’t actually commit a crime, the <a href="https://www.findlaw.com/injury/torts-and-personal-injuries/false-imprisonment.html">person you arrested can sue you</a>. You might even get <a href="https://www.law.cornell.edu/wex/false_imprisonment">arrested</a> yourself!</p>
<p>This is different from when police arrest someone. Law enforcement officers need “<a href="https://www.law.cornell.edu/wex/probable_cause">probable cause</a>,” which is the legal standard for how sure you need to be that a person committed a crime before arresting them. As long as an officer meets the probable cause standard, they won’t get in trouble, even if they’re ultimately mistaken about the person committing a crime.</p>
<p><strong>Try not to rough anyone up.</strong> Someone making a citizen’s arrest is usually allowed to use a reasonable amount of physical force to ensure that the lawbreaker stops committing the crime and can’t leave. But that doesn’t mean you can do anything you want. The type and amount of force you use must be <a href="https://nyupress.org/9781479814657/evaluating-police-uses-of-force/">closely related</a> to whether the other person is trying to get away and, if so, what they’re doing.</p>
<p><strong>Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.</strong> Making a citizen’s arrest is no joke. There’s the danger of making a mistake about what the person did and whether it was a crime. After all, most people don’t know exactly what the law allows or prohibits, so it’s easy to get something wrong.</p>
<p>And there’s the danger of getting hurt. Most people aren’t trained or equipped to arrest someone safely, and they rarely have backup available like the police do. If you see a crime occur, it’s better to call the police and be a good witness than it is to try to make a citizen’s arrest yourself. </p>
<p>So, what do you think: Is Spider-Man allowed to make a citizen’s arrest? And if he is, does that make him a hero or a vigilante?</p>
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<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Stopping someone against their will can be false imprisonment or even kidnapping. There are laws that determine who is acting as a hero and who is acting as a vigilante.Seth W. Stoughton, Professor of Law, University of South CarolinaCaroline McAtee, Law Student at the University of South Carolina School of Law, Research Assistant for the Excellence in Policing and Public Safety Program, University of South CarolinaLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2212992024-02-05T13:31:04Z2024-02-05T13:31:04ZBlack communities are using mapping to document and restore a sense of place<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/573098/original/file-20240202-25-m9rzc0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=16%2C11%2C1856%2C1272&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">These highways displaced many Black communities. Some Black activists are using mapping to do the opposite: highlight hidden parts of history.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.loc.gov/item/2011593044/">Library of Congress, Geography and Map Division</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>When historian <a href="https://www.nps.gov/cawo/learn/carter-g-woodson-biography.htm">Carter Woodson</a> created “Negro History Week” in 1926, which became “<a href="https://guides.loc.gov/black-history-month-legal-resources/history-and-overview">Black History Month” in 1976</a>, he sought not to just celebrate prominent Black historical figures but to transform how white America saw and valued all African Americans. </p>
<p>However, many issues in the history of Black Americans can get lost in a focus on well-known historical figures or other important events.</p>
<p>Our research looks at how African American communities struggling for freedom have long used maps to protest and survive racism while affirming the value of Black life.</p>
<p>We have been working on the “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/00087041.2023.2256131">Living Black Atlas</a>,” an educational initiative that highlights the neglected history of Black mapmaking in America. It shows the <a href="https://mappingblackca.com/">creative ways</a> in which Black people have historically used mapping to document their stories. Today, communities are using “restorative mapping” as a way to tell stories of Black Americans.</p>
<h2>Maps as a visual storytelling technique</h2>
<p>While most people think of maps as a useful tool to get from point A to point B, or use maps to look up places or plan trips, the reality is all maps tell stories. Traditionally, most <a href="https://www.ucpress.edu/book/9780520292833/chocolate-cities">maps did not accurately</a> reflect the stories of Black people and places: Interstate highway maps, for example, do not reflect the realities that in most U.S. cities the building of major roads <a href="https://www.npr.org/2021/04/07/984784455/a-brief-history-of-how-racism-shaped-interstate-highways">was accompanied by the displacement</a> of thousands of Black people from cities. </p>
<p>Like many marginalized groups, Black people have used maps as a <a href="https://doi.org/10.3138/cart-2020-0011">visual story-telling technique</a> for “<a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/44000276">talking back</a>” against their oppression. They have also used maps for enlivening and giving dignity to Black experiences and histories. </p>
<p>An example of this is the NAACP’s campaign to lobby for <a href="https://edsitement.neh.gov/curricula/naacps-anti-lynching-campaigns-quest-social-justice-interwar-years">anti-lynching federal legislation</a> in the early 20th century. The <a href="https://theconversation.com/how-black-cartographers-put-racism-on-the-map-of-america-155081">NAACP mapped</a> the <a href="https://lynchinginamerica.eji.org/explore">location and frequency</a> of lynching to show how widespread racial terror was to the American public. </p>
<p>Another example is the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee’s efforts to document racism in the American South in the 1960s. The <a href="https://snccdigital.org/inside-sncc/sncc-national-office/research/">SNCC research department’s</a> maps and research on racism played a pivotal role in planning civil rights protests. SNCC produced conventional-looking county-level maps of income and education inequalities, which were issued to activists in the field. The organization also developed creative “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/24694452.2019.1631747">network maps</a>,” which exposed <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0016718521000300">how power structures and institutions</a> supported racial discrimination in economic and political ways. These maps and reports could then identify urgent areas of protest. </p>
<p>More recently, artist-activist Tonika Lewis Johnson created the “<a href="https://www.foldedmapproject.com/interactive-maps">Folded Map Project</a>,” in which she brought together corresponding addresses on racially separated sides of the same street, to show how racism remade the city of Chicago. She photographed the “map twins” and interviewed individuals living at paired addresses to show the disparities. The project brought residents from north and south sides of Chicago to meet and talk to each other.</p>
<h2>Maps for restorative justice</h2>
<p><a href="https://doi.org/10.3138/carto.45.1.32">Restorative mapping</a> is an important part of the Living Black Atlas: It helps bring visibility to <a href="https://www.southerncultures.org/article/rooted/">Black experiences</a> that have been marginalized or forgotten. </p>
<p>An important example of restorative mapping work comes from the <a href="https://www.honeypotperformance.org">Honey Pot Performance, a collective</a> of Black feminists who helped create the <a href="https://www.honeypotperformance.org/about-the-cbscm">Chicago Black Social Culture Map, or the CBSCM</a>. This digital map traces Black Chicagoans’ experiences from <a href="https://www.archives.gov/research/african-americans/migrations/great-migration">the Great Migration</a> to the rise of electronic <a href="https://www.thedjrevolution.com/the-history-of-electronic-dance-music/#:%7E:text=The%20early%20forms%20of%20house%20music%20began%20in%20the%20early,with%20drum%20machines%20and%20synthesizers">dance music in the city</a>. The map includes historical records and music posters as well as descriptions of important people and venues for that music. </p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/573191/original/file-20240203-29-y8l8ww.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Five Black young men, dressed in suits, sit atop a white car with an Illinois number plate." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/573191/original/file-20240203-29-y8l8ww.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/573191/original/file-20240203-29-y8l8ww.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/573191/original/file-20240203-29-y8l8ww.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/573191/original/file-20240203-29-y8l8ww.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/573191/original/file-20240203-29-y8l8ww.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/573191/original/file-20240203-29-y8l8ww.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/573191/original/file-20240203-29-y8l8ww.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">Millions of African Americans migrated from the Deep South to the industrial North between 1942 and 1970. In this photo, Black youngsters are dressed for Easter on the South Side of Chicago, April 13, 1941.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://newsroom.ap.org/detail/TheGreatMigration/60132bf19f434519b6071ff3bb526a65/photo?Query=black%20history%20month%20chicago%20history%20music&mediaType=photo&sortBy=&dateRange=Anytime&totalCount=817&digitizationType=Digitized&currentItemNo=14&vs=true&vs=true">AP Photo/Library of Congress/FSA/Russell Lee</a></span>
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<p>While engaging Black Americans in the effort, the CBSCM map tells the story of Chicago through a series of artistic movements that highlight African Americans’ <a href="https://www.chicago.gov/dam/city/depts/zlup/Historic_Preservation/Publications/Chicago_Black_Renaissance_Literary_Movement_Report.pdf">connection with the city</a>.</p>
<p>After years of gentrification and urban renewal programs that displaced Black people <a href="https://www.beyondthewhitecity.org/urban-renewal-and-bronzeville">from the city</a>, this project is helping remember those neighborhoods digitally. It is also inviting a broader discussion about the history of Black Chicago. </p>
<h2>Restoring a sense of place</h2>
<p>An important idea behind restorative mapping is the act of returning something to a former owner or condition. This connects with the broader <a href="https://bjatta.bja.ojp.gov/media/blog/what-restorative-justice-and-how-does-it-impact-individuals-involved-crime">restorative justice</a> movement that seeks to address historic wrongs by documenting past and present injustices through perspectives that are often ignored or forgotten.</p>
<p>The CBSCM map is not a conventional paper map. While it includes many things you would find in such a map, such as road networks and political boundaries, the map also includes links to <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/anti.12679">fiction writing</a> and <a href="https://www.chicago.gov/dam/city/depts/zlup/Historic_Preservation/Publications/Lorraine_Hansberry_House_Landmark_Report.pdf">the Chicago Renaissance</a>, <a href="https://www.ucpress.edu/book/9780520292833/chocolate-cities">art and music</a>, as well as expressions of <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/41279638">food</a>, family life, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/00220620.2020.1784113">education</a> and politics that document a hidden history of Black life in the city. The map <a href="https://cbscmap.omeka.net/geolocation/map/browse">provides links to specific </a> historic documents, socially meaningful sites, and to the lives of people that tell the story of Black Chicago. </p>
<p>Thus, the map helps highlight how this geography is still present in Chicago in archives and people’s memories. Through this digital representation of Black Chicagoans’ deep cultural roots in the city, the mapping aims to restore a sense of place. Such work embodies what Black History Month is about.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/221299/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Black activists have long used maps to help illustrate their communities’ history and to document historical injustices.Joshua F.J. Inwood, Professor of Geography and Senior Research Associate in the Rock Ethics Institute, Penn StateDerek H. Alderman, Professor of Geography, University of TennesseeLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2126052023-10-30T12:29:58Z2023-10-30T12:29:58ZThis course uses big data to examine how American newspapers covered lynchings<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/556441/original/file-20231029-19-izwm8n.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=99%2C9%2C5897%2C2966&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">More than 5,000 Black people have been lynched in the US.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/photo/hangmans-noose-on-black-background-royalty-free-image/132062934?adppopup=true">Peter Dazeley/The Image Bank via Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="Text saying: Uncommon Courses, from The Conversation" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/499014/original/file-20221205-17-kcwec8.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/499014/original/file-20221205-17-kcwec8.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=375&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499014/original/file-20221205-17-kcwec8.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=375&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499014/original/file-20221205-17-kcwec8.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=375&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499014/original/file-20221205-17-kcwec8.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=471&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499014/original/file-20221205-17-kcwec8.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=471&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499014/original/file-20221205-17-kcwec8.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=471&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
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<p><em><a href="https://theconversation.com/topics/uncommon-courses-130908">Uncommon Courses</a> is an occasional series from The Conversation U.S. highlighting unconventional approaches to teaching.</em> </p>
<h2>Title of course:</h2>
<p>Lynching and the Press</p>
<h2>What prompted the idea for the course?</h2>
<p>One of my students was reviewing a spreadsheet that listed total lynchings by state. She exhaled, and then, with a bit of weariness, said, “Mississippi, goddamn.”</p>
<p>She was trying to comprehend the enormity of violence against the Black population of Mississippi: 823 lynchings from 1865 to 2011, <a href="https://sites.uw.edu/lynching/#/home">according to the Tolnay-Beck and Seguin lynching inventories</a>, two of the main academic resources in this field. She is one of 13 University of Maryland journalism students digging through <a href="https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn95073194/1901-08-28/ed-1/seq-2/#date1=08%2F28%2F1901&index=0&date2=08%2F28%2F1901&searchType=advanced&language=&sequence=0&lccn=sn95073194&words=CRIME&proxdistance=5&state=Nebraska&rows=20&ortext=crime&proxtext=&phrasetext=&andtext=&dateFilterType=range&page=1">historic newspaper articles</a> and data tables this semester to learn about how U.S. newspapers covered lynching. </p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/555440/original/file-20231023-21-ger90y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=3%2C4%2C1019%2C823&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A black and white photograph of a large crowd of white people looking up, many of them grinning, at tree branches where two men have been hanged, their bodies dangling from the branches." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/555440/original/file-20231023-21-ger90y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=3%2C4%2C1019%2C823&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/555440/original/file-20231023-21-ger90y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=486&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/555440/original/file-20231023-21-ger90y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=486&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/555440/original/file-20231023-21-ger90y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=486&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/555440/original/file-20231023-21-ger90y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=610&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/555440/original/file-20231023-21-ger90y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=610&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/555440/original/file-20231023-21-ger90y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=610&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">Thomas Shipp and Abram Smith, both of whom were African American, were lynched by a mob in Marion, Ind., in 1930.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/the-lynching-of-african-americans-thomas-shipp-and-abram-news-photo/871633440?adppopup=true">Photo 12/Universal Images Group via Getty Images</a></span>
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<p>The class is an extension of an <a href="https://www.ire.org/announcing-the-2021-ire-award-winners/">award-winning 2021 student journalism project</a> called “<a href="https://lynching.cnsmaryland.org/">Printing Hate</a>,” published by the <a href="https://merrill.umd.edu/howard-center-for-investigative-journalism">Howard Center for Investigative Journalism</a> at the University of Maryland, which examined various case studies of lynching coverage.</p>
<p>My class is taking a much longer view of this kind of journalism, using big data tools to examine newspaper coverage of lynchings from 1789 through 1963. In the process, students will gain important insights about our country’s history. They are learning about the societal context that allowed more than <a href="https://sites.uw.edu/lynching/">5,000 mob-driven murders</a> of Black citizens to happen and how some mainstream news coverage reinforced the violent white supremacy of these events. Newspapers, for example, frequently used dehumanizing language to describe the lynching victims as “<a href="https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn86063034/1890-10-19/ed-1/seq-2/#date1=10%2F19%2F1890&index=0&date2=10%2F19%2F1890&searchType=advanced&language=&sequence=0&lccn=sn86063034&words=Fiend&proxdistance=5&rows=20&ortext=Fiend&proxtext=&phrasetext=&andtext=&dateFilterType=range&page=1">fiends</a>” or “<a href="https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn82015137/1881-08-23/ed-1/seq-1/#date1=08%2F23%2F1881&index=0&date2=08%2F23%2F1881&searchType=advanced&language=&sequence=0&lccn=sn82015137&words=Brute&proxdistance=5&rows=20&ortext=&proxtext=brute&phrasetext=&andtext=&dateFilterType=range&page=1">black brutes</a>.”</p>
<h2>What does the course explore?</h2>
<p>The core of the class involves analyzing data from 60,000 news pages captured from the <a href="https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/">Library of Congress’ Chronicling America</a> database of historic newspapers. This project began as an academic study with my colleague <a href="https://scholar.google.com/citations?user=koSIcJ0AAAAJ&hl=en&oi=ao">Sean Mussenden</a>, the data editor at the Howard Center and senior lecturer at the Philip Merrill College of Journalism. A prominent journalism historian, <a href="https://scholar.google.com/citations?user=TwNX-ucAAAAJ&hl=en&oi=ao">Kathy Roberts Forde</a>, at the University of Massachusetts Amherst later joined our team. </p>
<p>After working with this large dataset, I decided to offer a class so students could learn research skills, such as data and content analysis, while also learning more about history and the history of U.S. journalism.</p>
<h2>What materials does the course feature?</h2>
<p>• “<a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/1099574431">Southern Horrors: Lynch Law in All Its Phases</a>,” by journalist <a href="https://theconversation.com/ida-b-wells-how-grassroots-support-and-social-media-made-a-monumental-difference-in-honoring-her-legacy-100866">Ida B. Wells</a>.</p>
<p>• “<a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/1252735793">Journalism and Jim Crow: White Supremacy and the Black Struggle for a New America</a>,” by Kathy Roberts Forde and Sid Bedingfield.</p>
<p>• “<a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/they-left-great-marks-on-me-african-american-testimonies-of-racial-violence-from-emancipation-to-world-war-i/oclc/778459402">They Left Great Marks On Me: African American Testimonies of Racial Violence from Emancipation to World War I</a>,” by Kidada Williams. </p>
<h2>What’s a critical lesson from the course?</h2>
<p>Working with a sample of this data from newspaper lynching articles, students compared the lynching location with the location of the newspaper. It took about three weeks for the class to classify some 3,000 news articles on a Google form and sheet that I had prepared. Students’ preliminary research is exploring why some Southern newspapers would cover lynching outside the state but not in their own backyards. Students are wondering if this was a form of erasure of local history.</p>
<p>Later this semester, my students will research the tone of newspaper narratives about lynching, such as how the news coverage portrayed the mob. The one graduate student in the class, who is pursuing her Ph.D. in history, is examining lynching in the antebellum era, a period for which there is very little research on this topic available.</p>
<h2>Why is this course relevant now?</h2>
<p>My students write weekly reflections about the readings and coursework. This course has opened their eyes to how the news media’s negative portrayals of African Americans can support systems of white supremacy. <a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/778459402">Few mainstream newspaper articles reflected Black voices</a>, except, of course, the Black press.</p>
<h2>What will the course prepare students to do?</h2>
<p>These students will leave this class with in-depth data and content analysis skills. They will acquire a keen sensitivity to portrayals of Black Americans and other people of color in news coverage. Ultimately, we hope the course will lead to better journalism.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/212605/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Rob Wells receives funding from the Social Data Science Center Seed Grant program for this research into media coverage of lynching.</span></em></p>Student journalists are using spreadsheets and databases to examine one of the darkest chapters in American history.Rob Wells, Associate Professor, University of MarylandLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2093752023-08-10T20:00:05Z2023-08-10T20:00:05ZHow ‘witch-hunts’ and ‘Stockholm syndrome’ became part of political language (and what it has to do with wrestling)<p>It’s hard to sympathise with powerful people hounding out innocents — which is why the Coalition wanted us to know the Robodebt Royal Commission <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/live/2022/nov/09/australia-live-news-peter-reith-sri-lanka-parliament-senate-estimates-defence-industrial-relations-workplace-laws-anthony-albanese-peter-dutton-environment-cop-peter-reith?page=with:block-636b23298f0850c5a4cd486b">was</a> a political witch-hunt. Poor Donald Trump wants us to know <a href="https://www.pbs.org/newshour/politics/trump-campaign-calls-latest-indictment-part-of-a-politically-motivated-witch-hunt">he’s</a> the victim of a witch-hunt, too.</p>
<p>To be fair, maybe the Coalition and Trump are trading on the good reputation of witches. After all, a 2013 <a href="https://www.publicpolicypolling.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/PPP_Release_CONGRESS_108.pdf">poll</a> found most Americans preferred witches (also cockroaches and haemorrhoids) to politicians. </p>
<p>But much like polls, political terms tell us something about society and language. Words like “witch-hunt” take us on an illustrative - and sometimes illusory — journey through metaphor, semantics and the politics of, believe it or not, professional wrestling.</p>
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<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/brekkies-barbies-mozzies-why-do-aussies-shorten-so-many-words-192616">Brekkies, barbies, mozzies: why do Aussies shorten so many words?</a>
</strong>
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<h2>The cynical political power of metaphor</h2>
<p>Pollies and pundits love metaphors. In fact, we all do. They are the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Conduit_metaphor">containers</a> you put ideas in before you hand them over to the world. And they can be shiny linguistic confetti for the brain.</p>
<p>Going back as far as Aristotle, scholars have emphasised the ability of metaphors to bring to mind new aspects of the world and new ways of understanding <a href="https://www.routledge.com/The-Routledge-Handbook-of-Metaphor-and-Language/Semino-Demjen/p/book/9780367581428#:%7E:text=%22The%20Routledge%20Handbook%20of%20Metaphor,between%20theory%2C%20methodology%20and%20application.">reality</a>. They have been shown to be effective pedagogical tools, and their therapeutic value is well established.</p>
<p>Metaphors can be helpful — but they can also be harmful.</p>
<p>Good political metaphors can move a nation. Post-war Australian Prime Minister Ben Chiefly’s “light on the hill” had good pedigree (the Sermon on the Mount) and a positive message (“betterment of mankind” in Australia and beyond).</p>
<p>But the pedigree and message of political metaphors can get dark, very fast. When Premier Dan Andrews was up in the polls, some political <a href="https://www.skynews.com.au/australia-news/high-polls-for-andrews-clearly-equate-to-stockholm-syndrome/video/6b4650a173335ea606eb91994d22fc63">pundits</a> accused Victorians of suffering from “Stockholm syndrome” — a traumatic bonding as might happen between captives and their abusers. Metaphorical uses of this controversial condition, and the domains it’s been applied to, have <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/41679728#:%7E:text=In%20other%20words%2C%20rather%20than,range%20of%20situations%20where%20mind">grown</a> exponentially since the 1970s.</p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1291040684086984705"}"></div></p>
<p>Metaphors are effective spin doctors when it comes creating political realities and <a href="https://www.academia.edu/30634964/METAPHOR_AND_PERSUASION_IN_POLITICS">influencing public perceptions</a>, all the more so in the current climate of general scepticism towards experts. “Knowing stuff isn’t enough”, as one <a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/voices/the-real-reason-that-we-don-t-trust-experts-a7126536.html">article</a> put it. Two epoch-making events, Brexit and Trump, were bankrolled by persuasive metaphors.</p>
<h2>Cappuccinos and witch-hunts</h2>
<p>It’s not hard to find bizarre examples of powerful people moulding language and others accepting it. At a café in tech company WeWork’s headquarters, the “cappuccinos” <a href="https://decider.com/2021/04/02/wework-documentary-hulu-adam-neumann-latte/">were called</a> “lattes” because CEO Adam Neumann insisted they were.</p>
<p>“Witch-hunt” is a particularly egregious use of metaphor. When the term first <a href="https://www.oed.com/dictionary/witch-hunter_n?tab=meaning_and_use#14154100">appeared</a> (originally as witch-hunter) in the 1600s, literal witch-hunts empowered some people at the expense of others to cope with the unknown - failed crops and things that went bump in the night.</p>
<p>But at a deeper level, witch-hunts often served to settle personal grudges and punish (largely) women who didn’t conform to a community’s expectations. Most importantly, witch-hunts were at the discretion of the powerful and at the expense of the less powerful.</p>
<p>“Witch-hunt” <a href="https://www.oed.com/dictionary/witch-hunt_n?tab=meaning_and_use#14153918">has had</a> metaphorical and political currency for more than a hundred years. It’s been drawn into many 20th century debates, including racial politics in Canadian elections (1900) and, perhaps most famously, US Senator Joseph McCarthy’s (1940s-1950s) campaign against communism. Links between <a href="https://www.britannica.com/event/McCarthyism">McCarthyism</a> and witch-hunts strengthened with Arthur Miller’s 1953 play about the Salem Witch Trials, The Crucible – which was an allegory of McCarthyism.</p>
<p>In the 21st century, “witch-hunt” has become the go-to metaphor for powerful people, especially men, evading scrutiny. The persecution of Harvey Weinstein led some, like Woody Allen, <a href="https://www.vanityfair.com/hollywood/2017/10/woody-allen-harvey-weinstein-witch-hunt-atmosphere">to claim</a> a witch-hunt of Hollywood men was afoot.</p>
<p>And, perhaps most famously, Donald Trump - by his own account - is a prolific victim of witch-hunts – whether through investigations of his business practices, his nominees to government positions or his practices as president.</p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1686881081490894848"}"></div></p>
<p>In short, there’s a bit of blatant, moral inversion at work here. Witch-hunts left many thousands of victims in their wake – usually the less powerful at the hands of the powerful. Now, the powerful are invoking “witch-hunt” as a metaphorical and moral shield, and to claim victimhood.</p>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/from-technicolour-yawn-to-draining-the-dragon-how-barry-humphries-breathed-new-life-into-australian-slang-204542">From 'technicolour yawn' to 'draining the dragon': how Barry Humphries breathed new life into Australian slang</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Language, kayfabe and keeping the bastards honest</h2>
<p><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frank_Luntz">Frank Luntz</a> - the Republican Party pollster who <a href="https://www.sourcewatch.org/images/4/45/LuntzResearch.Memo.pdf">helped shift</a> the debate from “global warming” to “climate change” - has aptly <a href="https://www.hachettebookgroup.com/titles/dr-frank-luntz/words-that-work/9781401385743/?lens=hachette-books">pointed out</a>, “it’s not what you say, it’s what people hear”.</p>
<p>Increasingly, we don’t hear the same things.</p>
<p>Studies of Trump’s speeches suggest he speaks at a 4th-6th grade level. Some have <a href="https://www.newsweek.com/trump-fire-and-fury-smart-genius-obama-774169">celebrated</a> supposed empirical proof that Trump is a dummy. Others <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/posteverything/wp/2016/05/03/donald-trump-speaks-like-a-sixth-grader-all-politicians-should/">point out</a> this makes him more accessible. Trump’s fan-base loves that he speaks to them in their language - and it’s a robust <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Audience_design#:%7E:text=Audience%20design%20is%20a%20sociolinguistic,response%20to%20a%20speaker's%20audience.">finding</a> in linguistics that this is exactly what he should do.</p>
<p>But witchcraft and similar metaphors point to a more sinister strategy. When it comes to language, some of us want a fact-based debate, whereas others want a pro-wrestling spectacle. More than a few <a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/pdf/10.1177/1478929920963827">scholars</a> and <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2023/02/26/opinion/vince-mcmahon-wwe-trump-kayfabe.html">journalists</a> have drawn parallels between something called “kayfabe” and contemporary politics - especially right-wing politics.</p>
<p><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kayfabe">Kayfabe</a> is a pro-wrestling term <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/13528165.2014.928516">referring</a> to “the performance of staged and ‘faked’ events as actual and spontaneous”. In other words, we know wrestling is scripted and the wrestlers know we know it’s scripted, but we all maintain the pretence of believing it isn’t. The same can be true for political language.</p>
<p>An even more understated part of kayfabe are the “marks” — they <a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/pdf/10.1177/1478929920963827">are</a> the ones who don’t know it’s all scripted.</p>
<p>So, we’re faced with witch-hunts, <a href="https://www.afr.com/politics/expelled-anti-abortion-mp-declares-liberal-values-dead-20220524-p5anzb">lynchings</a> and Stockholm syndrome. People don’t hear the same thing, and even if they do, it may or may not be real. Language as a social contract has more loopholes than footholds.</p>
<p>Journalist and essayist Abraham Josephine Riesman, lamenting the impact of kayfabe on US politics, might be observing language when she <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2023/02/26/opinion/vince-mcmahon-wwe-trump-kayfabe.html">writes</a>:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>perhaps the only antidote […]is radical honesty. It’s less fun, but it tends to do less material harm, in the long term.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>We love metaphors, but accountability and honest debate disappear in a mist of kayfabe when powerful people use them. But metaphorical meaning requires collaboration - sometimes we just have to say, no, actually, that’s a cappuccino.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/209375/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>How politicians have cynically used metaphor to imply meaning through language.Howard Manns, Senior Lecturer in Linguistics, Monash UniversityKate Burridge, Professor of Linguistics, Monash UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2076782023-06-16T20:30:13Z2023-06-16T20:30:13ZJuneteenth, Jim Crow and how the fight of one Black Texas family to make freedom real offers lessons for Texas lawmakers trying to erase history from the classroom<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/532238/original/file-20230615-15-utcvwa.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=2%2C166%2C1791%2C1011&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Joshua Houston leads a Juneteenth Parade in Huntsville, Texas, in a photo circa 1900.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.samhoustonmemorialmuseum.com/">Sam Houston Memorial Museum and Republic of Texas Presidential Library</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>The news was startling. </p>
<p>On June 19, 1865, two months after the U.S. Civil War ended, <a href="https://www.archives.gov/news/articles/juneteenth-original-document">Union Gen. Gordon Granger</a> walked onto the balcony at Ashton Villa in Galveston, Texas, and announced to the people of the state that “all slaves are free.” </p>
<p>As local plantation owners lamented the loss of their most valuable property, <a href="https://www.galvestonhistory.org/news/juneteenth-and-general-order-no-3">Black Texans celebrated</a> Granger’s Juneteenth announcement with singing, dancing and feasting. The <a href="https://www.tshaonline.org/handbook/entries/slavery">182,566 enslaved African Americans in Texas</a> had finally won their freedom. </p>
<p>One of them was <a href="https://easttexashistory.org/items/show/10?tour=8&index=0">Joshua Houston</a>. </p>
<p>He had long served as the enslaved servant of <a href="https://apnews.com/article/business-race-and-ethnicity-houston-slavery-sam-houston-6ff3a0d8700841c58729bcaa0848c8b3">Gen. Sam Houston</a>, the most well-known military and political leader in Texas.</p>
<p>Joshua Houston lived about 120 miles north of Galveston when he learned of Granger’s proclamation. </p>
<p>It was read aloud at the local Methodist Church in Huntsville, Texas, by <a href="https://www.tshaonline.org/handbook/entries/gregory-edgar-m">Union Gen. Edgar M. Gregory</a>, the assistant commissioner for the <a href="https://www.tshaonline.org/handbook/entries/freedmens-bureau">Freedmen’s Bureau in Texas</a>.</p>
<p>If Juneteenth meant anything, it meant at least that Joshua Houston and his family were free.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="A gray haired black man in the center wearing glasses is sitting down and surrounded by members of his family." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/532444/original/file-20230616-17-baca9c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/532444/original/file-20230616-17-baca9c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=480&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532444/original/file-20230616-17-baca9c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=480&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532444/original/file-20230616-17-baca9c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=480&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532444/original/file-20230616-17-baca9c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=603&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532444/original/file-20230616-17-baca9c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=603&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532444/original/file-20230616-17-baca9c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=603&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Joshua Houston and his family in October 1898.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Courtesy of the Sam Houston Memorial Museum and Republic of Texas Presidential Library, Huntsville, Texas</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>But there was more too. </p>
<p>The promise of freedom meant that more work needed to be done. Families needed to be reunited. Land needed to be secured. Children needed to be educated. </p>
<p>Indeed, the radical promise of Juneteenth is embodied in the community activism of Joshua Houston and the educational career of his son Samuel Walker Houston. </p>
<h2>The violent white reaction to Black political power</h2>
<p>Within a year of Granger’s proclamation, Houston had established a blacksmith shop near the Huntsville town square and moved his family into a two-story house on the adjoining lot.</p>
<p>He helped found the Union Church, the first Black-owned institution in the city, as well as a freedmen’s school to begin educating African American children. </p>
<p>In 1878 and 1882, a Republican coalition of Black and white voters opposed to conservative Democratic rule elected Houston as the county’s first Black county commissioner, a powerful position in local governance. </p>
<p>Despite this dramatic turn of events, Houston’s political story was hardly unique. </p>
<p>In the two decades following emancipation, 52 Black men served in the state Legislature or the state’s constitutional conventions. </p>
<p>But that number had fallen to two by 1882. </p>
<p>Opposition to Black freedom had been a powerful force in the state’s political culture since emancipation. </p>
<p>Armstead Barrett, a former slave in Huntsville, recalled in 1937 that an enraged white man had reacted to Granger’s Juneteenth order by <a href="https://www.studythepast.com/walkercountyslavenarratives/Armstead%20Barrett.pdf">riding past a celebrating Black woman and murdering her with his sword</a>. </p>
<p>In 1871, the violence continued when the white citizens of Huntsville stormed the county courthouse and aided the escape of three men who had <a href="https://lynchingintexas.org/items/browse/">lynched freedman Sam Jenkins</a>.</p>
<p>Later, in the 1880s, <a href="https://www.tshaonline.org/handbook/entries/civil-rights#:%7E:text=In%20the%201880s%2C%20White%20men,experienced%20similar%20forms%20of%20brutality.">attacks on Black elected officials</a>, their white political allies and Black voters escalated dramatically.</p>
<p>In the early 1900s, changes in state election laws, including the introduction of the poll tax, effectively <a href="https://txwf.org/minority-voter-suppression-jim-crow-laws-in-texas/">disenfranchised most Black voters</a> and many poor whites as well. <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=w8QIEAAAQBAJ&newbks=1&newbks_redir=0&lpg=PR1&dq=race%20and%20class%20in%20texas%20politics&pg=PA24#v=onepage&q&f=false">Voter participation dropped</a> from roughly 85% at the high tide of Texas populism in 1896 to roughly 35% when the poll tax became effective in 1904.</p>
<p>As a result, <a href="https://lrl.texas.gov/legeleaders/members/memberdisplay.cfm?memberID=3580">Robert Lloyd Smith</a> was the last Black legislator for nearly 70 years when he finished his term in 1897. </p>
<p>That wall of white supremacy at the state Capitol would not crack again until 1966, when <a href="https://www.archives.gov/milestone-documents/voting-rights-act#:%7E:text=This%20act%20was%20signed%20into,as%20a%20prerequisite%20to%20voting.">federal voting rights legislation</a> and <a href="https://www.democracydocket.com/analysis/ten-voting-rights-cases-that-shaped-history/">Supreme Court rulings</a> nullified <a href="https://www.tpr.org/podcast/texas-matters/2021-10-19/how-texas-used-multi-member-districts-to-weaken-minority-voting-power">schemes</a> to deny African Americans the ballot. </p>
<p>These changes enabled the election of Black officials such as <a href="https://www.humanitiestexas.org/programs/tx-originals/list/barbara-jordan">Barbara Jordan</a>, the first African American woman to serve in the Texas Senate. </p>
<h2>Like father, like son</h2>
<p>On an unknown date, a few years after Juneteenth, Joshua Houston’s son <a href="https://www.tshaonline.org/handbook/entries/houston-samuel-walker">Samuel Walker Houston</a> was born free in the bright light of <a href="https://www.britannica.com/event/Reconstruction-United-States-history">Reconstruction</a>.</p>
<p>Although he spent his adulthood in some of the darkest years of <a href="https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/americanexperience/features/freedom-riders-jim-crow-laws/">Jim Crow</a>, he continued his father’s work as an educator and community leader. Following a short stint at Atlanta University in Georgia and Howard University in Washington, D.C., Samuel Walker Houston returned to Huntsville and <a href="https://easttexashistory.org/items/show/2?tour=5&index=0">founded a school</a> in the nearby Galilee community. </p>
<p>Houston’s school was named for him and served as one of the first county training schools for African Americans in Texas. It enrolled students at every level, from first grade through high school, and provided a curriculum based on <a href="https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/americanexperience/features/garvey-washington/">Booker T. Washington’s Tuskegee model</a> of vocational training. </p>
<p>Young women at Houston’s school received training in homemaking, sewing and cooking, while young men learned carpentry, woodworking and mathematics. </p>
<p>By 1922, enrollment at the school had grown to 400 students, and it was recognized by contemporaries as the leading school of East Texas. In the 1930s, Houston’s school was absorbed into Huntsville’s school district, and he became the director of Black education in the county.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="In this black and white image, seven men stand outside a residential-style building with sawhorses and stacked lumber off to the side." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/532442/original/file-20230616-4884-pkw4fn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/532442/original/file-20230616-4884-pkw4fn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=352&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532442/original/file-20230616-4884-pkw4fn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=352&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532442/original/file-20230616-4884-pkw4fn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=352&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532442/original/file-20230616-4884-pkw4fn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=442&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532442/original/file-20230616-4884-pkw4fn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=442&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532442/original/file-20230616-4884-pkw4fn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=442&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">This 1919 photograph shows officials laying the foundation for a new building at the Samuel Walker Houston Training School.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jackson Davis Collection of African American Educational Photographs, Special Collections, University of Virginia Library</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Houston encouraged a practical education for Black Texans, but he also believed that young Texans of all races needed to learn an account of history that differed from the white supremacist narrative that dominated Southern history. </p>
<p>Toward this end, he joined with Joseph Clark and Ramsey Woods, two white professors who pioneered race relations courses at Sam Houston State Teachers College. Together, the group led the <a href="https://shsu-ir.tdl.org/handle/20.500.11875/3760">Texas Commission on Interracial Cooperation</a>’s effort to evaluate Texas public school textbooks during the 1930s. </p>
<p>In an analysis of racial attitudes in state-endorsed textbooks, they found that 74% of books presented a racist view of the past and of Black Americans. Most excluded the scientific, literary and civic contributions of Black people, while mentioning their economic contributions only in the period of slavery before the Civil War.</p>
<p>Instead, the group argued, books designed for both Black and white Texans needed to take the “opportunity … to do simple justice” by including Black history and the “struggle for the exercise” of equal civil, political and legal rights.</p>
<p>White Texans <a href="https://www.texasmonthly.com/being-texan/state-history-textbook-erases-the-stories-black-hispanic-texans/">refused to adopt a textbook</a> in the 1930s that taught the fundamental equality of the races, or portrayed Reconstruction, as it is now widely understood, as a missed opportunity to establish a more just and egalitarian Texas.</p>
<p>But Houston and his <a href="https://scholarworks.sfasu.edu/ethj/vol57/iss2/5/">white counterparts were motivated</a> by the conviction that progress, both for African Americans and for Texas, required a more honest and progressive account of the state and its history. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="In this black and white image, Black men and women are seen marching along a main street while others are watching." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/532443/original/file-20230616-27-qg7tn4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/532443/original/file-20230616-27-qg7tn4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=467&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532443/original/file-20230616-27-qg7tn4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=467&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532443/original/file-20230616-27-qg7tn4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=467&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532443/original/file-20230616-27-qg7tn4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=587&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532443/original/file-20230616-27-qg7tn4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=587&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532443/original/file-20230616-27-qg7tn4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=587&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The Juneteenth Parade in Huntsville, Texas, circa 1900.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Sam Houston Memorial Museum and Republic of Texas Presidential Library, Huntsville, Texas.</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>An ongoing battle for equality</h2>
<p>Today’s legislative efforts in Texas and elsewhere to <a href="https://www.texastribune.org/2021/06/15/abbott-critical-race-theory-law/">restrict the teaching</a> of systemic racism in public schools ignore the lessons and realities represented by Joshua and Samuel Walker Houston’s lives. </p>
<p>The argument used for supporting such restrictions is that “divisive concepts” like the history of racism may make some students feel uncomfortable or guilty. </p>
<p>That sort of thinking echoes the same justification provided by Texas lawmakers in 1873, when many argued that the state’s schools must be segregated to ensure “<a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Dance_of_Freedom/hVLtkG8EA3sC?hl=en&gbpv=1&bsq=peace,%20harmony">the peace, harmony and success of the schools and the good of the whole</a>.” </p>
<p>But the opposite is true. </p>
<p>In reality, the prohibition on teaching the darker chapters of our past creates a segregated history. </p>
<p>Instead, as Samuel Walker Houston recognized, young Texans must have a more honest account of the past and of one another to progress into a unified and egalitarian society.</p>
<p>Texas history is both the story of people who dedicated their lives to the work of advancing freedom and the story of powerful people and forces that stood against it. </p>
<p>One cannot be understood without the other. </p>
<p>Americans cannot appreciate the accomplishments of Joshua and Samuel Walker Houston without examining the vicious realities of Jim Crow society. </p>
<p>The lesson of their lives, and of the Juneteenth holiday, is that freedom is a precious thing that requires constant work to make real.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/207678/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>For the formerly enslaved Black people in Texas, Juneteenth meant more than freedom. It meant reuniting families and building schools and developing political power.Jeffrey L. Littlejohn, Professor of History, Sam Houston State UniversityZachary Montz, Lecturer, History Department, Sam Houston State UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2046632023-04-28T12:46:25Z2023-04-28T12:46:25ZEmmett Till’s accuser, Carolyn Bryant Donham, has died – here’s how the 1955 murder case helped define civil rights history<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/523323/original/file-20230427-2476-sdo2si.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Carolyn Bryant Donham, left, reads newspaper accounts of the Emmett Till murder trial in 1955. </span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1387675173/photo/emmett-till-murder-trial.jpg?s=1024x1024&w=gi&k=20&c=6AHNEtCZd-n8SzB4KlwtTrW6VqogGwjiZZGJQP187mk=">Bettmann Archive/Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Carolyn Bryant Donham, the white woman <a href="https://apnews.com/article/emmett-till-carolyn-bryant-donham-1bcfff1c5a29484270d66b224422f112">who accused Black teenager</a> Emmett Till of making inappropriate advances toward her in 1955, has died at the age of 88 in Louisiana, according to a coroner’s report.</p>
<p>Nearly 68 years after Till was kidnapped, brutally tortured, murdered and then dumped into the Tallahatchie River in Mississippi, the case continues to resonate with audiences around the world because it represents an egregious example of justice denied. </p>
<p>As a historian of the <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=fLC2Ei-VvuoC&lpg=PR7&ots=97G2d6B94B&dq=davis%20houck%20till&lr&pg=PR7#v=onepage&q=davis%20houck%20till&f=false">Mississippi civil rights movements</a>, I quickly learned that most Mississippi civil rights history leads back to the widespread outrage over the Till case in the summer of 1955.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/523324/original/file-20230427-961-uvz7nc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A young Black boy leans against his arm and reclines on a bed in a black and white photo." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/523324/original/file-20230427-961-uvz7nc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/523324/original/file-20230427-961-uvz7nc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=389&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/523324/original/file-20230427-961-uvz7nc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=389&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/523324/original/file-20230427-961-uvz7nc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=389&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/523324/original/file-20230427-961-uvz7nc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=489&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/523324/original/file-20230427-961-uvz7nc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=489&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/523324/original/file-20230427-961-uvz7nc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=489&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Emmett Till is shown lying on his bed in 1954, one year before his murder.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/514974304/photo/emmett-till.jpg?s=1024x1024&w=gi&k=20&c=H_59CkJeGX1ESuR52wL2c8X9aDnSxek6F17MCsU0L_E=">Bettmann/Contributor</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Emmett in Money, Mississippi</h2>
<p>Fourteen-year-old Emmett arrived in Mississippi on Aug. 20, 1955, from Chicago to visit his mother’s family, who sharecropped cotton in the tiny Delta community of Money. </p>
<p>On the evening of Aug. 24, Emmett and several cousins and neighbors drove the 2.8 miles into Money to buy candy at the Bryant Grocery and Meat Market. </p>
<p>Emmett entered the store alone. He bought 2 cents’ worth of bubble gum and left. At the door Emmett let out a loud, two-note wolf whistle directed at white 21-year-old Carolyn Bryant. His cousins were terrified: Emmett had just hit the trip wire of Southern racial fears by flirting with a white woman.</p>
<p>Early on Aug. 28, several men – white and Black – took Emmett from his family’s house. Emmett’s badly decomposed and battered body was discovered three days later in the Tallahatchie River. Emmett’s uncle could identify Emmett only by a ring he was wearing that once belonged to Emmett’s father, Louis Till.</p>
<p>Two white men, Roy Bryant and J. W. Milam, were quickly arrested and later charged with murder. During a five-day trial in September, the two men were found not guilty after a 67-minute deliberation by an all-white, all-male jury. </p>
<p>Several years later, members of the jury confessed to a Florida State University graduate student, <a href="https://fsu.digital.flvc.org/islandora/object/fsu%3A277427">Hugh Stephen Whitaker</a>, that they knew the men were guilty but simply wouldn’t convict a white man of crimes against a Black child.</p>
<p>In 1956, Milam and Bryant <a href="https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/americanexperience/features/till-killers-confession/">sold their</a> “shocking true story” of what happened to Till for US$3,150 to Look magazine. For nearly 50 years, celebrity journalist William Bradford Huie’s “confession” story in Look functioned as the final word on the case. </p>
<h2>Continued interest and coverage</h2>
<p>Southern newspapers wanted immediately to forget the Till story, ashamed of the backlash caused by Milam and Bryant’s “confession.” Many Northern and Western newspapers editorialized on the case long after its conclusion. America’s Black press never quit writing about the case; it was their work, after all, helping to track down Black eyewitnesses in September 1955 that helped us understand the truth of what actually happened to Emmett Till on Aug. 28, 1955.</p>
<p>Thanks to <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bvijYSJtkQk&t=10s">investigative work</a> by documentary filmmaker Keith Beauchamp and others, the public has since learned that Milam and Bryant were part of a much larger lynching party, none of whom were ever punished.</p>
<p>Today, all of the people directly involved in Till’s murder are dead. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/523359/original/file-20230428-30-kdf4gf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A woman stands with two young boys on the steps of a dilapidated looking wooden building." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/523359/original/file-20230428-30-kdf4gf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/523359/original/file-20230428-30-kdf4gf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=601&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/523359/original/file-20230428-30-kdf4gf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=601&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/523359/original/file-20230428-30-kdf4gf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=601&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/523359/original/file-20230428-30-kdf4gf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=755&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/523359/original/file-20230428-30-kdf4gf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=755&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/523359/original/file-20230428-30-kdf4gf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=755&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Carolyn Byant Donham stands with her sons outside the store where she first encountered Emmett Till.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/515021604/photo/mrs-roy-bryant-leaving-building-with-sons.jpg?s=1024x1024&w=gi&k=20&c=jxt9tRKAN3XqOxRFUF8GovCOblOFyeY6Xw0_Z3PoVhE=">Bettmann/Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>A case that aged with Carolyn Bryant Donham</h2>
<p>The last <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2023/04/27/us/carolyn-bryant-donham-dead.html">20 years of Bryant Donham’s life</a> were characterized by the attempt of private citizens and law enforcement to bring her to justice for the part she played in Till’s kidnapping and murder.</p>
<p>When Bryant Donham was in her 80s and living with family in Raleigh, North Carolina, FBI investigators and federal prosecutors revisited her case and the potential for prosecuting her for Till’s kidnapping and death. One question was whether Bryant Donham recanted her previous testimony about Till’s advances and said that it was false.</p>
<p>A historian said in 2017 that Bryant Donham told him in a rare interview that the most egregious parts of the story she and <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2023/04/27/us/carolyn-bryant-donham-dead.html">others told about Emmett Till were false</a>.</p>
<p>The Justice Department said in 2021, though, that it <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/national-security/emmett-till-carolyn-bryant-investigation/2021/12/06/8f5e8490-56d1-11ec-9a18-a506cf3aa31d_story.html">was unable to confirm</a> whether Bryant Donham actually went back on her previous testimony, and it closed the case. </p>
<p>Then, in 2022, a team of researchers – including two of Till’s relatives – <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2022/jun/29/emmett-till-warrant-carolyn-bryant-donham-family-arrest">discovered an unserved arrest warrant</a> for Bryant Donham in a courthouse basement. This led some legal experts to say that the 1955 document could support probable cause to prosecute Bryant Donham for her involvement in Till’s death. </p>
<p>Mississippi’s attorney general said in 2022 that the office <a href="https://apnews.com/article/arrests-mississippi-emmett-till-19176fe64ec8054188601d000ba569f2">did not plan to prosecute</a> Bryant Donham – though that didn’t stop activists from protesting outside her home that same year.</p>
<p>Recently unearthed documents also showed that <a href="https://www.mississippicir.org/perspective/carolyn-bryant-lied-about-emmett-till-did-author-tim-tyson-lie-too">Till did not put his hands</a> on her nor talk lewdly to her in the store. That was all fabricated as part of the defense’s strategy to argue that the lynching amounted to justifiable homicide. When the presiding judge, Curtis Swango, did not allow the jury to hear <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2023/04/27/us/carolyn-bryant-donham-dead.html">Bryant Donham’s testimony</a>, the defense pivoted to <a href="https://famous-trials.com/emmetttill/1763-nottills">the absurd claim that the body taken</a> from the Tallahatchie River wasn’t Till’s. </p>
<p>Over the past several decades, the Till case has continued to resonate, especially for a nation that still experiences the all-too-frequent and seemingly unprovoked deaths of young Black men. The Till family has had to live with an open wound for 68 years. As Devery Anderson, author of “Emmett Till: The Murder That Shocked the World and Propelled the Civil Rights Movement,” has noted, that <a href="https://www.thedailybeast.com/emmett-tills-accuser-carolyn-bryant-donham-dies-along-with-any-last-chance-of-justice">wound won’t suddenly go away</a> with Bryant Donham’s passing.</p>
<p><em>This is an updated version of an <a href="https://theconversation.com/emmett-tills-life-matters-99923">article originally published on July 13, 2018</a>.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/204663/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Davis W. Houck does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>While Bryant Donham was never charged for her involvement in Till’s death, the Justice Department continued to investigate the case and consider the potential for an arrest as recently as 2021.Davis W. Houck, Professor, Florida State UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1915542022-10-14T12:19:29Z2022-10-14T12:19:29ZWith the movie ‘Till,’ Mamie Till-Mobley’s quest to educate the world about her son’s lynching marches on<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/489653/original/file-20221013-25-jqluuv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C229%2C3654%2C2675&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Till-Mobley watches the body of her son, Emmett, being lowered into his grave.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/mrs-mamie-bradley-reacts-as-the-body-of-her-son-emmett-till-news-photo/109429921?phrase=mamie till-mobley&adppopup=true">Robert Abbott Sengstacke/Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>After 14-year-old Emmett Till was kidnapped, severely beaten and killed in the Mississippi Delta on Aug. 28, 1955, his mother, Mamie Till-Mobley, made the courageous decision <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/retropolis/wp/2018/07/12/emmett-tills-mother-opened-his-casket-and-sparked-the-civil-rights-movement/">to reveal her son’s corpse for all to see</a>. </p>
<p>Till-Mobley’s choice allowed audiences to bear witness to an act of racial violence, and the new film “<a href="https://variety.com/2022/film/news/till-trailer-emmett-till-movie-1235324562/">Till</a>” promises to unveil the complete story of how she responded to her son’s brutal death.</p>
<p>However, when a theatrical poster for “Till” was released in the summer of 2022, some people immediately denounced the film on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/207108197412/posts/pfbid02XRvo42DjrKVnhH5bUA4GctEBqCJHEZaRpaSXxQG8exuub58sBvqvWQnnteKRL5dQl/?d=n">Facebook</a> and <a href="https://twitter.com/tillmovie/status/1550148603477254151?s=61&t=ELFF2jnC1hoNGXKeeU723g">Twitter</a>. Critics accused the project of profiting off Black pain and argued that there were other accounts of the Black experience worthy of cinematic representation.</p>
<p>“I’m tired of seeing award winning movies about our people being torn apart,” one commenter wrote.</p>
<p>Others questioned the purpose of television shows and movies about Emmett Till when people were still trying – <a href="https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/justice-department-officially-closes-emmett-till-investigation-180979205/">and</a> <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2022/08/09/us/emmett-till-murder-grand-jury.html">failing</a> – to secure justice for his death. </p>
<p>Yet these reactions insinuate that Till’s story is significant only because of the horror and trauma attached to it: the gruesome death of a Black teenager, the public grief of a Black mother and the unsettling <a href="https://muse.jhu.edu/article/189491">images</a> of a <a href="https://www.upress.state.ms.us/Books/L/Lynching">lynched Black body</a>. </p>
<p>I understand why there is some skepticism about the intent of “Till,” which comes on the heels of ABC’s miniseries “<a href="https://abc.com/shows/women-of-the-movement">Women of the Movement</a>,” the docuseries “<a href="https://abc.com/shows/let-the-world-see">Let the World See</a>” and the podcast series “<a href="https://abcnews.go.com/US/mamie-till-mobleys-life-advocacy-son-emmetts-murder/story?id=85107166">Reclaimed</a>,” all of which were released in 2022 and explore the legacies of Emmett Till and his mother. </p>
<p>But those who presume that projects like these are pointless or redundant have likely never contemplated the wishes – nor followed the career – of Mamie Till-Mobley. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/rkQi6GBwmSA?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">The trailer for ‘Till.’</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>A keeper of history</h2>
<p>As a <a href="https://wrd.as.uky.edu/users/bmer226">scholar of writing, rhetoric and digital studies</a> who <a href="https://twitter.com/brandonerbyphd/status/1453422481734356996?s=61&t=77zUF_pGgDdMExpj9sN2fg">teaches courses about the Emmett Till case</a> and writes about <a href="https://www.emmetttillproject.com/brandon-erby">Mamie Till-Mobley’s activism and legacy</a>, I believe that she wanted as many people as possible to know her son’s tragic story and <a href="https://www.msnbc.com/opinion/msnbc-opinion/emmett-till-movie-will-be-necessary-viewing-country-running-its-n1297662">learn from his death</a>. </p>
<p>When Till-Mobley <a href="https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smithsonian-institution/emmett-tills-open-casket-funeral-reignited-the-civil-rights-movement-180956483/">famously decided to exhibit Till’s corpse</a> by holding an open-casket funeral, she did so not only to expose racial hatred in the U.S. but also to persuade and empower Americans to do something about it. </p>
<p>Although her response to Till’s death should not solely define her role as a civil rights icon, it did play a major part in motivating her to become a teacher. </p>
<p>A critical component of <a href="https://emmetttilllegacyfoundation.com/">Till-Mobley’s legacy</a> is how she produced and circulated information about her son’s life and death, inside and outside the classroom.</p>
<p>As the poet and literary scholar <a href="https://mellon.org/news-blog/articles/let-people-see-what-they-did-my-boy-commemorating-emmett-till-future-generations/">Elizabeth Alexander notes</a>, Mamie Till-Mobley was both “a history maker and history keeper.” She welcomed occasions to speak about <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/26878003.2021.1881308">how she raised her son</a>, correct misconceptions about his character and preserve his memory to advance her educational goals. </p>
<h2>Bringing Till to the classroom</h2>
<p>Till-Mobley’s activism didn’t end with her son’s funeral.</p>
<p>In the fall of 1955, Till-Mobley partnered with the NAACP, <a href="https://www.loc.gov/exhibits/naacp/the-civil-rights-era.html">becoming the headline speaker</a> for several political rallies across the U.S. </p>
<p>She spread the word about her son’s appalling murder and explained her rationale to inspect and display his body. She also detailed her encounters in Jim Crow Mississippi during the murder trial and situated her son’s story within a larger struggle for racial equality. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/a8j15D51QqM?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Till-Mobley wanted ‘to let the world see what is happening in the United States of America.’</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>She ultimately determined that she could have an even greater impact in the classroom, where she could teach generations of young people.</p>
<p>Till-Mobley entered Chicago Teachers College in 1956 and graduated with honors in 1960. As a student, she devised ways to commemorate her son in various assignments in an era when Black educators in Mississippi <a href="https://uncpress.org/book/9781469627809/a-chance-for-change/">were being fired for discussing the Till case</a> in their classrooms. For instance, when she had to compose and narrate a eulogy for an assignment in a speech course, <a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/178832/death-of-innocence-by-mamie-till-mobley-and-christopher-benson/">she chose to eulogize her son</a>.</p>
<p>Once Till-Mobley became a public school teacher on <a href="https://interactive.wttw.com/dusable-to-obama/bronzeville">the South Side of Chicago</a>, she encouraged her students to achieve their goals by becoming astute historians and critical thinkers. She sought to use Black history in creative ways.</p>
<p>For example, when Till-Mobley founded a youth drama troupe in 1973, she named it the “<a href="https://twitter.com/brandonerbyphd/status/1463179155726549000?s=61&t=8n8pIsvO0H-zjJvk4_FZpA">Emmett Till Players</a>.” The players were tasked with <a href="https://youtu.be/3nHbfLF9Ts0">memorizing and reciting speeches by Martin Luther King Jr.</a>, and they <a href="https://youtu.be/nTbNZG5WVz4">performed in churches and other community venues across the nation</a>.</p>
<p>For nearly five decades, Till-Mobley fashioned opportunities for her students and others to learn about her son and understand his importance to U.S. history and culture. </p>
<p>As former student <a href="https://medium.com/s/story/for-emmett-till-on-the-anniversary-of-his-murder-c0eecccc382a">Cynthia Dagnal-Myron recalled</a>: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>“Mamie Till Mobley lost a son to hatred, but inspired hundreds of children to strive for excellence. In fact, she demanded that we do so. … She taught us we could do anything. … I went on to become all the things I’d dreamt, largely because of that remarkable woman. She invited me to dream as big as I wanted. To do all the things she’d hoped her son might do someday.” </p>
</blockquote>
<p>“The thing that has come out of Emmett’s death,” <a href="https://www.kentuckypress.com/9780813145365/in-remembrance-of-emmett-till/">Till-Mobley once declared</a>, “is to push education to the limit. I mean learn all you can learn.”</p>
<h2>Taking the baton from Till-Mobley</h2>
<p><a href="https://abcnews.go.com/Politics/map-anti-critical-race-theory-efforts-reached/story?id=83619715">Recent calls</a> to prohibit the study of race and racism in public schools under the guise of “critical race theory” <a href="https://www.edweek.org/policy-politics/map-where-critical-race-theory-is-under-attack/2021/06">bans</a> probably would have dismayed Till-Mobley, <a href="https://wams.nyhistory.org/growth-and-turmoil/cold-war-beginnings/mamie-till-mobley/">who died in 2003</a>.</p>
<p>It’s more reason to remember her bravery and her insistence that Till’s story be used <a href="https://www.thetillinstitute.org">to educate</a>, even when some consider it controversial to do so. </p>
<p>“She was a teacher, and she thought methodically and scientifically,” the Rev. Jesse Jackson <a href="https://www.chicagotribune.com/news/ct-xpm-2003-01-07-0301070060-story.html">proclaimed after Till-Mobley’s death</a>. “She had a sharp mind and a compassionate heart. And she really sensed the place of her son in American history and her responsibility to keep that legacy alive.”</p>
<p>“Till” is the latest example of Mamie Till-Mobley’s call to action being realized – and the film fulfills her mandate that Americans never forget what happened to her boy.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/191554/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Brandon M. Erby does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>She eventually decided to become a public school teacher so she could influence a new generation of Americans.Brandon M. Erby, Assistant Professor of Writing, Rhetoric, and Digital Studies, University of KentuckyLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1613912021-05-25T12:11:51Z2021-05-25T12:11:51Z100 years after the Tulsa Race Massacre, lessons from my grandfather<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/402184/original/file-20210521-19-oj4qu3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=37%2C0%2C4935%2C2989&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Smoke rises from damaged properties after the Tulsa race massacre in Tulsa, Oklahoma in June 1921. </span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/group-of-people-looking-at-smoke-in-the-distance-coming-news-photo/956085158">Oklahoma Historical Society via Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>When Viola Fletcher, 107, <a href="https://www.c-span.org/video/?511795-1/hearing-centennial-1921-tulsa-race-massacre">appeared before Congress</a> in May 2021, she <a href="https://www.cnn.com/2021/05/19/us/tulsa-massacre-survivors-congress/index.html">called for the nation</a> to officially acknowledge the Tulsa race riot of 1921.</p>
<p>I know that place and year well. As is the case with Fletcher – who is one of the last living survivors of the massacre, which took place when she was 7 – the terror of the Tulsa race riot is something that has been with me for almost as long as I can remember. My grandfather, Robert Fairchild, told the story nearly a quarter-century ago to several newspapers.</p>
<p>Here’s how The Washington Post recounted his story in <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/archive/politics/1996/05/30/the-fire-that-seared-into-tulsas-memory/dc8e1864-7f1f-477d-b43c-2e042621c956/">1996</a>: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>“At 92 years old, Robert Fairchild is losing his hearing, but he can still make out the distant shouts of angry white men firing guns late into the night 75 years ago. His eyes are not what they used to be, but he has no trouble seeing the dense, gray smoke swallowing his neighbors’ houses as he walked home from a graduation rehearsal, a frightened boy of 17.</p>
<p>His has since been a life of middle-class comfort, a good job working for the city, a warm family life. But he has never forgotten his mother’s anguish in 1921 as she fled toward the railroad tracks to escape the mobs and fires tearing through the vibrant Black neighborhood of Greenwood in north Tulsa.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>“There was just nothing left,” Fairchild <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/archive/politics/1996/05/30/the-fire-that-seared-into-tulsas-memory/dc8e1864-7f1f-477d-b43c-2e042621c956/">told the newspaper</a>.</p>
<p>The Washington Post article said the Tulsa race riots of 1921 were among the “worst race riots in the nation’s history.” It reported: “The death toll during the 12-hour rampage is still in dispute, but estimates have put it as high as 250. More than 1,000 businesses and homes were burned to the ground, scores of Black families were herded into cattle pens at the fairgrounds, and one of the largest and most prosperous Black communities in the United States was turned to ashes.” </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/342817/original/file-20200618-41234-1g88ase.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/342817/original/file-20200618-41234-1g88ase.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=373&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342817/original/file-20200618-41234-1g88ase.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=373&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342817/original/file-20200618-41234-1g88ase.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=373&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342817/original/file-20200618-41234-1g88ase.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=469&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342817/original/file-20200618-41234-1g88ase.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=469&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342817/original/file-20200618-41234-1g88ase.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=469&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">During the Tulsa race riots in 1921, Black businesses and homes in the Greenwood District in Tulsa, Oklahoma, were destroyed at the hands of white residents.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/the-aftermath-of-the-tulsa-race-massacre-during-which-mobs-news-photo/1201723362?adppopup=true">Bettmann Archive/Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Riots began after a white mob attempted to lynch a teenager falsely accused of assaulting a white woman. Black residents came to his defense, some armed. The groups traded shots, and mob violence followed. My family eventually returned to a decimated street. Miraculously their home on Latimer Avenue was spared. </p>
<h2>Disturbing history</h2>
<p>Hearing about these experiences at the family table was troubling enough. Reading a newspaper account of your ancestors’ fleeing for their lives is a surreal pain. There’s recognition of your family’s terror, and relief in knowing your family survived what “60 Minutes” once called “<a href="https://www.cbsnews.com/news/greenwood-massacre-tulsa-oklahoma-1921-race-riot-60-minutes-2020-06-14/">one of the worst race massacres in American history</a>.” </p>
<p>In spite of my grandfather’s witness, this same event didn’t merit inclusion in any of my assigned history texts, either in high school or college. On the occasions I’ve mentioned this history to my colleagues, they’ve been astonished. </p>
<p>In 1996, at the 75th anniversary of the massacre, the city of Tulsa finally acknowledged what had happened. Community leaders from different backgrounds publicly recognized the devastation wrought by the riots. They gathered in a church that had been torched in the riot and since rebuilt. My grandfather <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/1996/05/31/us/75-years-later-tulsa-confronts-its-race-riot.html">told The New York Times</a> then that he was “extremely pleased that Tulsa has taken this occasion seriously.”</p>
<p>“A mistake has been made,” he told the paper, “and this is a way to really look at it, then look toward the future and try to make sure it never happens again.”</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/342821/original/file-20200618-41234-19ugftu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/342821/original/file-20200618-41234-19ugftu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342821/original/file-20200618-41234-19ugftu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342821/original/file-20200618-41234-19ugftu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342821/original/file-20200618-41234-19ugftu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=533&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342821/original/file-20200618-41234-19ugftu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=533&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342821/original/file-20200618-41234-19ugftu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=533&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">An African American couple walking across a street in Tulsa, Oklahoma, June 1921.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/an-african-american-couple-walking-across-a-street-with-news-photo/956085464?adppopup=true">Oklahoma Historical Society/Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>That it took so long for the city to acknowledge what took place shows how selective society can be when it comes to which historical events it chooses to remember – and which ones to overlook. The history that society colludes to avoid publicly is necessarily remembered privately.</p>
<h2>Economically vibrant</h2>
<p>Even with massive destruction, the area of North Tulsa, known as Greenwood, became known for its economic vitality. On the blocks surrounding the corner of Archer Street and Greenwood Avenue in the 1930s, a <a href="https://www.travelok.com/listings/view.profile/id.3239#:%7E:text=Dubbed%20America's%20%22Black%20Wall%20Street,commerce%20in%20the%20early%201900s">thriving business district</a> flourished with retail shops, entertainment venues and high-end services. One of these businesses was the Oklahoma Eagle, a Black-owned newspaper. As a teenager in the early 1940s, my father had his first job delivering the paper. </p>
<p>Without knowing the history, it would be a surprise to the casual observer that years earlier everything in this neighborhood had been razed to the ground. The <a href="https://deadline.com/2020/06/terror-in-tulsa-the-rise-and-fall-of-black-wall-street-docuseries-in-works-stanley-nelson-russell-westbrook-blackfin-1202954194/">Black Wall Street Memorial</a>, a black marble monolith, sits outside the Greenwood Cultural Center. The memorial is dedicated to the entrepreneurs and pioneers who made Greenwood Avenue what it was both before and after it was destroyed in the 1921 riot. </p>
<p>Although I grew up on military bases across the world, I would visit Greenwood many times over the years. As I grew into my teenage years in the 1970s, I recognized that the former vibrant community was beginning to decline. Some of this was due to the destructive effects of urban renewal and displacement. As with many other Black communities across the country, parts of Greenwood were razed to <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2020/05/29/case-reparations-tulsa-oklahoma#_Toc41573967">make way for highways</a>. </p>
<p>Some of the decline was due to the exit of financial institutions, including banks. This contributed to a decrease in opportunities to build wealth, including savings and investment products, loans for homes and businesses, and funding to help build health clinics and affordable housing.</p>
<p>And at least some was due to the diminished loyalty of residents to Black-owned businesses and institutions. During the civil rights movement, downtown Tulsa businesses began to allow Black people into their doors as customers. As a result, Black residents spent less money in their community. </p>
<h2>Historical lessons</h2>
<p>At the end of my father’s military career in the 1970s, he became a community development banker in Virginia. His work involved bringing together institutions – investors, financial institutions, philanthropists, local governments – to develop innovative development solutions for areas like Greenwood. For me, there are lessons in the experiences of three generations – my grandfather’s, father’s and mine – that influence my scholarly work today.</p>
<p>On the one hand, I study how years after the end of legal segregation Americans remain racially separate in our neighborhoods, schools and workplaces and at alarmingly high levels. My research has shown how segregation depresses <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jbusvent.2006.10.010">economic</a> and social <a href="https://doi.org/10.1007/s11187-009-9202-x">outcomes</a>. In short, segregation creates closed markets that stunt economic activity, especially in the Black community.</p>
<p>On the other hand, I focus on solutions. One avenue of work involves examining the business models of <a href="https://cup.columbia.edu/book/emerging-domestic-markets/9780231173223">Community Development Financial Institutions</a>, or CDFIs, and <a href="https://www.worldscientific.com/doi/abs/10.1142/S1084946720500028">Minority Depository Institutions</a>, or MDIs. These are financial institutions that are committed to economic development – banks, credit unions, loan funds, equity funds – that operate in low- and moderate-income neighborhoods. They offer what was sorely needed in North Tulsa, and many other neighborhoods across the nation – locally attuned financial institutions that understand the unique challenges families and businesses face in minority communities. </p>
<h2>Righting historical wrongs</h2>
<p>There are interventions we can take, locally and nationally, that recognize centuries of financial and social constraint. Initiatives like the 2020 decision by the Small Business Administration and U.S. Treasury to allocate <a href="https://home.treasury.gov/news/press-releases/sm1020">US$10 billion</a> to lenders that focus funds on disadvantaged areas are a start. These types of programs are needed even when there aren’t full-scale economic and social crises are taking place, like the COVID-19 epidemic or protesters in the street. Years of institutional barriers and racial wealth gaps cannot be redressed unless there’s a recognition that capital matters. </p>
<p>The 1921 Tulsa race riot began on May 31, only weeks before the annual celebration of Juneteenth, which is observed on June 19. As communities across the country begin recognizing Juneteenth and leading corporations <a href="https://www.cnbc.com/2020/06/17/here-are-the-companies-observing-juneteenth-this-year.html?__source=iosappshare%7Ccom.apple.UIKit.activity.Message">move to celebrate it</a>, it’s important to remember the story behind Juneteenth – slaves weren’t informed that they were emancipated. </p>
<p>After the celebrations, there’s hard work ahead. From my grandfather’s memory of the riot’s devastation to my own work addressing low-income communities’ economic challenges, I have come to see that change requires harnessing economic, governmental and nonprofit solutions that recognize and speak openly about the significant residential, educational and workplace racial segregation that still exists in the United States today.</p>
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<p><em>This is an updated version of an <a href="https://theconversation.com/from-grandfather-to-grandson-the-lessons-of-the-tulsa-race-massacre-140925">article</a> originally published on May 21, 2020</em>.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/161391/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Gregory B. Fairchild does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>More Americans are learning about the 1921 massacre in the prosperous Black section of Tulsa known as the ‘Black Wall Street.’ For Gregory Fairchild, it is a part of his family history.Gregory B. Fairchild, Associate Professor of Business Administration, University of VirginiaLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1431662020-08-26T12:23:50Z2020-08-26T12:23:50ZPresidents have a long history of condescension, indifference and outright racism toward Black Americans<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/353958/original/file-20200820-22-j6bawz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=15%2C10%2C3530%2C2623&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Theodore Roosevelt was one of many U.S. presidents who was racist.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/theodore-roosevelt-standing-on-a-podium-pointing-into-the-news-photo/515301984?adppopup=true">Bettman/Getty</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>The fury over racial injustice that erupted in the wake of George Floyd’s killing has forced Americans to confront their history. That’s unfamiliar territory for most Americans, whose historical knowledge amounts to a vague blend of fact and myth that <a href="https://woodrow.org/news/one-state-pass-us-citizenship-exam/">was only half-learned in high school</a> and is only half-remembered now.</p>
<p>If their historical knowledge is lacking, Americans are not any better informed about the role of presidential leadership – and lack of leadership – on racial issues. They may have heard that five of the first seven presidents owned slaves, and they know – or think they do – that Abraham Lincoln “freed the slaves.” </p>
<p>But even those tidbits of fact are incomplete. Several other presidents, including Ulysses Grant, owned slaves. And Lincoln, whose Emancipation Proclamation was more symbolic than practically effective, <a href="https://www.nprillinois.org/post/lincoln-race-great-emancipator-didnt-advocate-racial-equality-was-he-racist#stream/0">hated slavery but never considered Blacks equal to whites</a>. </p>
<p>An honest assessment of American presidential leadership on race reveals a handful of courageous actions but an abundance of racist behavior, even by those remembered as equal rights supporters.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/353959/original/file-20200820-24-1fi7v0p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="President Rutherford Hayes." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/353959/original/file-20200820-24-1fi7v0p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/353959/original/file-20200820-24-1fi7v0p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=744&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353959/original/file-20200820-24-1fi7v0p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=744&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353959/original/file-20200820-24-1fi7v0p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=744&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353959/original/file-20200820-24-1fi7v0p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=935&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353959/original/file-20200820-24-1fi7v0p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=935&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353959/original/file-20200820-24-1fi7v0p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=935&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">President Rutherford Hayes claimed to be a friend of African Americans’ rights. He wasn’t.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/rutherford-b-hayes-1822-93-19th-president-of-the-united-news-photo/1177464369?adppopup=true">Brady-Handy Collection, Glasshouse Vintage/Universal History Archive/Universal Images Group via Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Our book, “<a href="https://us.sagepub.com/en-us/nam/presidents-and-black-america/book236977">Presidents and Black America: A Documentary History</a>,” examines the record of the first 44 presidents on racial issues and explores their relationships with African Americans. What emerges is a portrait of chief executives who were often blatantly racist and commonly subordinated concerns for racial justice to their own political advantage.</p>
<p>Here are a few examples:</p>
<p>• <strong>Rutherford Hayes</strong>, president from 1877-1881, claimed to be a friend of African Americans’ rights. <a href="https://www.rbhayes.org/hayes/rutherford-b.-hayes-s-inaugural-address/">At his inauguration</a>, he said “a true self-government” must be “a government which guards the interests of both races carefully and equally.” But he cut a shady deal to win the presidency in the 1876 election, whose result was as hotly disputed as the 2000 Bush-Gore contest. In that deal, he agreed to withdraw federal troops from Southern states where they’d been <a href="https://historyengine.richmond.edu/episodes/view/317">protecting Blacks from the Ku Klux Klan and white supremacist depredations</a>. Over the next two decades, Southern whites <a href="http://law2.umkc.edu/faculty/projects/ftrials/shipp/lynchingyear.html">drove virtually all Black elected officials from office</a>, often by fraud and sometimes at gunpoint, and about 1,500 Southern Blacks were lynched.</p>
<p>• <strong>William McKinley</strong>, president from 1897-1901, delivered an <a href="https://millercenter.org/the-presidency/presidential-speeches/march-4-1897-first-inaugural-address">inaugural address</a> extolling equal rights and declared, “Lynchings must not be tolerated.” However, he remained silent when white supremacists in Wilmington, North Carolina, staged an 1898 coup that ousted all Black elected officials and killed at least 60 Blacks. His lack of response to lynchings prompted a Black-owned newspaper to observe, “The Negroes of this country turn with impatience, disappointment and disgust from Mr. McKinley’s fence-straddling and shilly-shallying discussion of lynch law.” </p>
<p>• <strong>Theodore Roosevelt</strong>, president from 1901-1909, believed in white superiority while simultaneously advocating educational opportunity regardless of race. In a letter to a friend, he wrote, “Now as to the Negroes! I entirely agree with you that as a race and in the mass they are altogether inferior to the whites.” </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/353961/original/file-20200820-20-8ljctx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="President Woodrow Wilson, speaking from a platform." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/353961/original/file-20200820-20-8ljctx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/353961/original/file-20200820-20-8ljctx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=480&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353961/original/file-20200820-20-8ljctx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=480&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353961/original/file-20200820-20-8ljctx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=480&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353961/original/file-20200820-20-8ljctx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=603&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353961/original/file-20200820-20-8ljctx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=603&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353961/original/file-20200820-20-8ljctx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=603&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">President Woodrow Wilson told Black leaders, ‘Segregation is not a humiliation but a benefit.’</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/woodrow-wilson-the-28th-president-of-the-united-states-news-photo/2696038?adppopup=true">Hulton Archive / Stringer/Getty</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>• <strong>Woodrow Wilson</strong>, president from 1913-1921, promised fair treatment for African Americans in his 1912 campaign. But once elected, he defended his Southern Cabinet members who segregated workers in federal departments that hadn’t been segregated, <a href="https://scholarcommons.scu.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1017&context=history">writing</a>, “It is as far as possible from being a movement against the negroes. I sincerely believe it to be in their interest.” Black Democrat Robert Wood of New York unsuccessfully urged Wilson to reverse the segregation policy: “We resent it, not at all because we are particularly anxious to eat in the same room or use the same soap and towels that white people use, but because we see in the separation in the races in the matter of soup and soap the beginning of a movement to deprive the colored man entirely of soup and soap, to eliminate him wholly from the Civil Service.” In <a href="https://modjourn.org/issue/bdr519445/">a testy White House exchange</a>, Wilson chastised William Monroe Trotter and other Black leaders, asserting that, “Segregation is not a humiliation but a benefit, and ought to be so regarded by you gentlemen. If your organization goes out and tells the colored people of the country that it is a humiliation, they will so regard it … The only harm that will come will be if you cause them to think it is a humiliation.”</p>
<p>• <strong>Franklin Roosevelt</strong>, president from 1933-1945, was widely admired among African Americans. While his New Deal programs did not benefit Blacks and whites equally, Blacks did receive benefits. But FDR’s actions were always guided by his need to appease Southern segregationists in Congress to pass his other agenda items. And his attitude could be condescending, as when he <a href="http://docs.fdrlibrary.marist.edu/transcr4.html">met with Black leaders</a> about integrating the military. He advised a gradual approach, particularly with the Navy: “We are training a certain number of musicians on board ship. The ship’s band. There’s no reason why we shouldn’t have a colored band on some of these ships, because they’re darn good at it.” </p>
<p>Political calculation has always been at work in presidential dealings with African Americans, from George Washington to Donald Trump. </p>
<p>But often, those dealings also reflected condescension, indifference, racial bias and outright racism in chief executives who took a solemn oath to serve all American citizens equally.</p>
<p>[<em>Get the best of The Conversation, every weekend.</em> <a href="https://theconversation.com/us/newsletters/weekly-highlights-61?utm_source=TCUS&utm_medium=inline-link&utm_campaign=newsletter-text&utm_content=weeklybest">Sign up for our weekly newsletter</a>.]</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/143166/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>President Woodrow Wilson told Black leaders, ‘Segregation is not a humiliation but a benefit, and ought to be so regarded by you gentlemen.’ He was one in a long line of racist American presidents.Stephen A. Jones, Adjunct Instructor of History, Central Michigan UniversityEric Freedman, Professor of Journalism and Chair, Knight Center for Environmental Journalism, Michigan State UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1418492020-07-09T12:17:31Z2020-07-09T12:17:31ZVigilantism, again in the news, is an American tradition<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/345820/original/file-20200706-3980-1q7hz4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C0%2C3789%2C2518&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Armed white citizens and police have historically worked together in the U.S., though it's not clear whether that's what's happening here.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/armed-counter-protesters-and-a-police-officer-stand-watch-news-photo/1223867050">George Frey/Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>It’s a contentious time in the U.S., with a pandemic, racial equality, police violence and a presidential election all occupying people’s attention. Given all that stress, it can seem like people are <a href="https://www.salon.com/2020/06/17/how-and-why-fox-news-is-encouraging-right-wing-vigilante-violence-toward-protesters/">taking the law into their own hands</a> more often.</p>
<p>It’s not just <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2020/08/26/us/kenosha-shooting-protests-jacob-blake.html">in Kenosha, Wisconsin</a>. In recent weeks, there have been confrontations over removing <a href="https://www.wsoctv.com/news/local/protesters-morganton-clash-over-confederate-monument/OUIM3VGQFRC33MRAFRLDBE7IIY/">monuments to the Confederacy</a>, clashes over the use of <a href="https://abcnews.go.com/US/incomprehensible-confrontations-masks-erupt-amid-covid-19-crisis/story?id=70494577">face masks</a>, attempts to <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/video/national/after-nights-of-violence-in-minneapolis-locals-take-up-arms-to-defend-their-community/2020/06/06/334d69d8-f7c4-44ee-b776-9e3d376bcbab_video.html">protect</a> – or <a href="https://theworldlink.com/news/local/hundreds-turn-out-to-stop-rumored-riot/article_b58d6386-a59b-11ea-90f0-7f3504c58c5d.html">intimidate</a> – Black Lives Matter protesters and even a renewed interest in “<a href="https://theconversation.com/ahmaud-arberys-killing-puts-a-spotlight-on-the-blurred-blue-line-of-citizens-arrest-laws-139275">citizen’s arrests</a>.” Some of these events have turned <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/nation/2020/06/28/1-dead-after-man-shoots-into-crowd-breonna-taylor-protest-louisville/">tragically</a> <a href="https://slate.com/news-and-politics/2020/06/albuquerque-new-mexico-statue-protest-armed-militia-group.html">violent</a> and deadly.</p>
<p>These events show Americans moving beyond differences of opinion and free speech into private displays of force. Their participants may be trying to <a href="https://www.kcur.org/2020-06-30/bolstered-by-lax-gun-laws-armed-protesters-confront-anti-racism-rallies">enforce their own ideas of what the law is</a>, or <a href="https://www.redlandsdailyfacts.com/2020/06/06/yucaipa-councilman-armed-business-owners-were-just-protecting-city/">protect property</a> or <a href="https://theintercept.com/2020/06/24/rayshard-brooks-armed-atlanta-protesters/">defend their communities against threats</a> – especially in light of the failures of police to provide a fair system of justice. </p>
<p>Attorney General William Barr has claimed, by contrast, that this vigilantism might be a <a href="https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/politics-news/barr-claims-defunding-police-would-lead-vigilantism-major-american-cities-n1227866">premonition of the disorder yet to come</a> if police funding is in fact slashed in communities nationwide.</p>
<p>As a scholar of vigilantism in U.S. history and a political scientist interested in how the state and law develop over time, <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/books/sixshooter-state/FC6F8BECEE8677B11A1656B42C1F291D">I have found</a>, as have <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/hic3.12121">others</a>, that for many Americans, law and order has long been as much a private matter as something for the government to handle.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/345812/original/file-20200706-3943-rzldfa.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/345812/original/file-20200706-3943-rzldfa.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/345812/original/file-20200706-3943-rzldfa.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/345812/original/file-20200706-3943-rzldfa.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/345812/original/file-20200706-3943-rzldfa.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/345812/original/file-20200706-3943-rzldfa.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/345812/original/file-20200706-3943-rzldfa.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/345812/original/file-20200706-3943-rzldfa.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A warning on a fence around a Florida home implies its occupants will take the law into their own hands.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/sign-hangs-on-a-fence-surrounding-a-large-mansion-on-news-photo/466857317">Charles Ommanney/Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Two sparks for vigilantism</h2>
<p>Vigilantism – the private, violent enforcement of public moral or legal standards – tends to rise in two types of situations, neither of which may be what people expect. It doesn’t come from a government being weak or absent, leaving citizens on their own, but rather when <a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/contradictions-of-democracy-9780190847197?cc=us&lang=en&">the very principles that make up a government and its people themselves seem to be changing</a>.</p>
<p>And it doesn’t necessarily come from situations where one ethnic or racial group clearly dominates others – but rather in times and places where <a href="https://whyy.org/articles/why-didnt-philly-police-respond-to-white-men-with-bats-fishtown-neighbors-wait-for-answers/">who belongs</a> to a particular community is <a href="https://doi.org/10.1017/S153759271800107X">up for debate</a>. Vigilantism is often about the attempt to establish power rather than a reflection of preexisting hierarchies.</p>
<p>[<em>Deep knowledge, daily.</em> <a href="https://theconversation.com/us/newsletters/the-daily-3?utm_source=TCUS&utm_medium=inline-link&utm_campaign=newsletter-text&utm_content=deepknowledge">Sign up for The Conversation’s newsletter</a>.]</p>
<p>Many Americans are feeling like the rules of the game are changing in <a href="https://www.people-press.org/2019/04/11/public-trust-in-government-1958-2019/">unfair ways</a> and have a sense of <a href="https://news.gallup.com/poll/1669/general-mood-country.aspx">unease</a> about what the nation is going to look like in the future. As <a href="https://time.com/5852397/turchin-2020-prediction/">scholars</a> and <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/press-releases/archive/2019/11/atlantics-december-2019-issue/601795/">pundits</a> opine about the serious possibility of <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/in-america-talk-turns-to-something-unspoken-for-150-years-civil-war/2019/02/28/b3733af8-3ae4-11e9-a2cd-307b06d0257b_story.html">another American civil war</a>, the grave implications of domestic political violence loom more than at any point in the past 50 years. </p>
<p>These fears are reinforced by a president who seems to <a href="https://thebulwark.com/donald-trump-is-americas-first-vigilante-president/">encourage</a> <a href="https://newrepublic.com/article/155579/trump-vigilante-president-supporters-violence">division</a> and <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2020/jun/29/st-louis-couple-point-guns-at-protesters">fear</a> between Americans, even as Black people’s voices are attracting more attention in the public and the halls of power.</p>
<h2>Vigilantism is American law enforcement</h2>
<p>Through U.S. history, the distinctions between vigilantism and lawful arrest and punishment have always been <a href="https://scholarship.law.cornell.edu/cjlpp/vol25/iss3/1/">murky</a>. Frequently, vigilantism has been used not in opposition to police efforts, but rather with their <a href="http://doi.org/10.15195/v3.a37">active encouragement</a>. Indeed, in some <a href="https://whyy.org/articles/why-didnt-philly-police-respond-to-white-men-with-bats-fishtown-neighbors-wait-for-answers/">recent protests</a> that still <a href="https://theintercept.com/2020/06/19/militia-vigilantes-police-brutality-protests/">seems to be the case</a>.</p>
<p>Before police departments existed, arrests were made under traditional common law, which depended on <a href="https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=159070">private participation</a> in legally organized <a href="http://doi.org/10.1093/acrefore/9780199329175.013.451">posses</a> and serving as <a href="https://scholarlycommons.law.northwestern.edu/jclc/vol104/iss4/3/">deputies</a>. Institutions like <a href="https://www.hup.harvard.edu/catalog.php?isbn=9780674012349">slave patrols</a> required that non-slave owners were willing to use, or at least permit, violence to maintain white supremacy. In the 19th and early 20th centuries, private detectives and security guards also possessed <a href="http://doi.wiley.com/10.1111/lsi.12285">powers of arrest</a> similar to those of police officers.</p>
<p>Even the spate of “<a href="https://repository.law.miami.edu/umlr/vol67/iss4/6/">stand your ground</a>” laws passed in the last 15 years borders on vigilantism, giving private citizens lots of freedom about how to use force to protect themselves. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/345823/original/file-20200706-3962-z84mji.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/345823/original/file-20200706-3962-z84mji.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/345823/original/file-20200706-3962-z84mji.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/345823/original/file-20200706-3962-z84mji.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/345823/original/file-20200706-3962-z84mji.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/345823/original/file-20200706-3962-z84mji.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/345823/original/file-20200706-3962-z84mji.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/345823/original/file-20200706-3962-z84mji.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">American vigilantism often has racist overtones, such as the self-appointed citizen patrols monitoring the U.S.-Mexico border.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/member-of-united-constitutional-patriots-new-mexico-border-news-photo/1132938325">Paul Ratje/AFP via Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Vigilantism is also American culture</h2>
<p>American vigilantism is primarily associated with the terrible <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/14975/14975-h/14975-h.htm">lynching campaigns</a> of the late 19th and early 20th centuries that <a href="https://www.press.uillinois.edu/books/catalog/54cey8st9780252036132.html">targeted Black Americans and other racial minorities</a>. But that isn’t the whole story. </p>
<p>Political scientist <a href="https://www.eleonoramattiacci.com/">Eleonora Mattiacci</a> and I studied what were called “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1017/S153759271800107X">vigilance committees</a>,” private groups organized in the decades before the Civil War that typically promoted anti-immigrant sentiment in areas, including cities, precisely as the laws concerning the powers of local governments were rapidly changing.</p>
<p>In fact, though it has been most often used to try to <a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/strain-of-violence-9780195019438">establish racial and economic hierarchies</a>, vigilantism – including <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/us/academic/subjects/history/african-american-histor/beyond-rope-impact-lynching-black-culture-and-memory">actual lynching</a> – has also, at times, been used by disadvantaged communities for self-defense. </p>
<p>Take recent events in Milwaukee, for instance: A small gathering of people in a predominantly African American neighborhood <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/national/3-shot-amid-unrest-at-milwaukee-police-investigation-scene/2020/06/24/c7770c86-b613-11ea-9a1d-d3db1cbe07ce_story.html">violently confronted residents</a> of a house where two girls were believed to be held in a sex-trafficking ring. This follows a <a href="https://www.upenn.edu/pennpress/book/15965.html">long tradition</a> of people of color using private force to <a href="https://www.dukeupress.edu/this-nonviolent-stuffll-get-you-killed">protect</a> <a href="https://www.wsupress.wayne.edu/books/detail/negroes-guns">themselves</a> and defend their <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/10999949.2013.838857">communities</a>.</p>
<p>Vigilantism has often abetted the worst instincts in the politics of crime in the U.S., making justice appear to depend on what the people want rather than the rule of law.</p>
<p>But it is also evidence of the complicated relationship between violence and justice at the core of American democracy. The founders <a href="https://digitalcommons.law.yale.edu/yjlh/vol2/iss1/9/">thought seriously</a> about self and community protection and believed that <a href="https://digitalcommons.law.yale.edu/ylj/vol101/iss3/1/">popular participation in law enforcement and defense</a> could be an important corrective to an unresponsive and oppressive legal system. </p>
<p>But allowing the majority to impose justice can have unequal effects on disadvantaged members of the nation, granting the police a mandate to act violently precisely because that seems to be <a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/popular-justice-9780195074512?cc=us&lang=en&">what the people want</a>.</p>
<p>As Americans focus on the way in which people of color, in particular, have been policed in this country, they should disentangle the damaging forms of vigilantism from a deeper notion that democracy might require ordinary citizens to rely at least partly on themselves to enforce the law. </p>
<p>Democracy requires Americans to somehow be vigilant over the use of force in their midst – without themselves becoming vigilantes.</p>
<p><em>Editor’s note: This is an updated version of an article first published July 9, 2020.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/141849/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jonathan Obert does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>For many Americans, law and order has long been as much a private matter as something for the government to handle.Jonathan Obert, Assistant Professor of Political Science, Amherst CollegeLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1409252020-06-19T12:10:13Z2020-06-19T12:10:13ZFrom grandfather to grandson, the lessons of the Tulsa race massacre<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/342531/original/file-20200617-94094-1panhol.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Smoke rises from damaged properties after the Tulsa Race Massacre in Tulsa, Oklahoma June 1921. </span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/group-of-people-looking-at-smoke-in-the-distance-coming-news-photo/956085158">Oklahoma Historical Society via Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p><em>This article was published in 2020. <a href="https://theconversation.com/from-grandfather-to-grandson-the-lessons-of-the-tulsa-race-massacre-161391">An updated version from 2021 is available</a>.</em></p>
<p>My family sat down to watch the first episode of HBO’s “<a href="https://www.hbo.com/watchmen">Watchmen</a>” last October. Stephen Williams, the director, included quick cuts of gunshots, explosions, citizens fleeing roaming mobs, and even a plane dropping bombs. We’ve come to anticipate these elements in superhero films.</p>
<p>As the sepia-toned footage spooled across the screen, the words “Tulsa 1921” were superimposed over the mayhem. My throat tightened. </p>
<p>I knew that place and year well. The terror of the Tulsa race riot is something that has been with me for almost as long as I can remember. My grandfather, Robert Fairchild, told the story nearly a quarter century ago to several newspapers.</p>
<p>Here’s how he recounted the story in The Washington Post in <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/archive/politics/1996/05/30/the-fire-that-seared-into-tulsas-memory/dc8e1864-7f1f-477d-b43c-2e042621c956/">1996</a>: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>“At 92 years old, Robert Fairchild is losing his hearing, but he can still make out the distant shouts of angry white men firing guns late into the night 75 years ago. His eyes are not what they used to be, but he has no trouble seeing the dense, gray smoke swallowing his neighbors’ houses as he walked home from a graduation rehearsal, a frightened boy of 17.</p>
<p>His has since been a life of middle-class comfort, a good job working for the city, a warm family life. But he has never forgotten his mother’s anguish in 1921 as she fled toward the railroad tracks to escape the mobs and fires tearing through the vibrant black neighborhood of Greenwood in north Tulsa.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>“There was just nothing left,” Fairchild said recently.</p>
<p>The Washington Post article said the Tulsa race riots of 1921 were among the “worst race riots in the nation’s history.” It reported: “The death toll during the 12-hour rampage is still in dispute, but estimates have put it as high as 250. More than 1,000 businesses and homes were burned to the ground, scores of black families were herded into cattle pens at the fairgrounds, and one of the largest and most prosperous black communities in the United States was turned to ashes.”</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/342817/original/file-20200618-41234-1g88ase.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/342817/original/file-20200618-41234-1g88ase.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=373&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342817/original/file-20200618-41234-1g88ase.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=373&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342817/original/file-20200618-41234-1g88ase.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=373&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342817/original/file-20200618-41234-1g88ase.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=469&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342817/original/file-20200618-41234-1g88ase.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=469&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342817/original/file-20200618-41234-1g88ase.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=469&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">During the Tulsa race riots in 1921, black businesses and homes in the Greenwood District in Tulsa, Oklahoma, were destroyed at the hands of white residents.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/the-aftermath-of-the-tulsa-race-massacre-during-which-mobs-news-photo/1201723362?adppopup=true">Bettmann Archive/Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Riots began after a white mob attempted to lynch a teenager falsely accused of assaulting a white woman. Black residents came to his defense, some armed. The groups traded shots, and mob violence followed. My family eventually returned to a decimated street. Miraculously their home on Latimer Avenue was spared. </p>
<h2>Disturbing history</h2>
<p>Hearing about these experiences at the family table was troubling enough. Reading a newspaper account of your ancestors’ fleeing for their lives is a surreal pain. There’s recognition of your family’s terror, and relief in knowing your family survived what “60 Minutes” recently called “<a href="https://www.cbsnews.com/news/greenwood-massacre-tulsa-oklahoma-1921-race-riot-60-minutes-2020-06-14/">one of the worst race massacres in American history</a>.” </p>
<p>In spite of my grandfather’s witness, this same event didn’t merit inclusion in any of my assigned history texts, either in high school or college. On the occasions I’ve mentioned this history to my colleagues, they’ve been astonished. </p>
<p>In 1996, at the 75th anniversary of the massacre, the city of Tulsa finally acknowledged what had happened. Community leaders from different backgrounds publicly recognized the devastation wrought by the riots. They gathered in a church that had been torched in the riot and since rebuilt. My grandfather <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/1996/05/31/us/75-years-later-tulsa-confronts-its-race-riot.html">told The New York Times</a> then that he was “extremely pleased that Tulsa has taken this occasion seriously.”</p>
<p>“A mistake has been made,” he told the paper, “and this is a way to really look at it, then look toward the future and try to make sure it never happens again.”</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/342821/original/file-20200618-41234-19ugftu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/342821/original/file-20200618-41234-19ugftu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342821/original/file-20200618-41234-19ugftu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342821/original/file-20200618-41234-19ugftu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342821/original/file-20200618-41234-19ugftu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=533&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342821/original/file-20200618-41234-19ugftu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=533&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342821/original/file-20200618-41234-19ugftu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=533&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">An African American couple walking across a street in Tulsa, Oklahoma, June 1921.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/an-african-american-couple-walking-across-a-street-with-news-photo/956085464?adppopup=true">Oklahoma Historical Society/Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>That it took so long for the city to acknowledge what took place shows how selective society can be when it comes to which historical events it chooses to remember – and which ones to overlook. The history that society colludes to avoid publicly is necessarily remembered privately.</p>
<h2>Economically vibrant</h2>
<p>Even with massive destruction, the area of North Tulsa, known as Greenwood, became known for its economic vitality. On the blocks surrounding the corner of Archer Street and Greenwood Avenue in the 1930s, a <a href="https://www.travelok.com/listings/view.profile/id.3239#:%7E:text=Dubbed%20America's%20%22Black%20Wall%20Street,commerce%20in%20the%20early%201900s">thriving business district</a> flourished with retail shops, entertainment venues and high-end services. One of these businesses was the Oklahoma Eagle, a black-owned newspaper. As a teenager in the early 1940s, my father had his first job delivering the paper. </p>
<p>Without knowing the history, it would be a surprise to the casual observer that years earlier everything in this neighborhood had been razed to the ground. The <a href="https://deadline.com/2020/06/terror-in-tulsa-the-rise-and-fall-of-black-wall-street-docuseries-in-works-stanley-nelson-russell-westbrook-blackfin-1202954194/">Black Wall Street Memorial</a>, a black marble monolith, sits outside the Greenwood Cultural Center. The memorial is dedicated to the entrepreneurs and pioneers who made Greenwood Avenue what it was both before and after it was destroyed in the 1921 riot. </p>
<p>Although I grew up on military bases across the world, I would visit Greenwood many times over the years. As I grew into my teenage years in the 1970s, I recognized that the former vibrant community was beginning to decline. Some of this was due to the destructive effects of urban renewal and displacement. As with many other black communities across the country, parts of Greenwood were razed to <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2020/05/29/case-reparations-tulsa-oklahoma#_Toc41573967">make way for highways</a>. </p>
<p>Some of the decline was due to the exit of financial institutions, including banks. This contributed to a decrease in opportunities to build wealth, including savings and investment products, loans for homes and businesses, and funding to help build health clinics and affordable housing.</p>
<p>And at least some was due to the diminished loyalty of residents to black-owned businesses and institutions. During the civil rights movement, downtown Tulsa businesses began to allow blacks into their doors as customers. As a result, blacks spent less money in their community. </p>
<h2>Historical lessons</h2>
<p>At the end of my father’s military career in the 1970s, he became a community development banker in Virginia. His work involved bringing together institutions – investors, financial institutions, philanthropists, local governments – to develop innovative development solutions for areas like Greenwood. For me, there are lessons in the experiences of three generations – my grandfather’s, father’s and mine – that influence my scholarly work today.</p>
<p>On the one hand, I study how years after the end of legal segregation, Americans remain racially separate in our neighborhoods, schools and workplaces and at alarmingly high levels. My research has shown how segregation depresses <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jbusvent.2006.10.010">economic</a> and social <a href="https://doi.org/10.1007/s11187-009-9202-x">outcomes</a>. In short, segregation creates closed markets that stunt economic activity, especially for blacks. </p>
<p>On the other hand, I focus on solutions. One avenue of work involves examining the business models of <a href="https://cup.columbia.edu/book/emerging-domestic-markets/9780231173223">Community Development Financial Institutions</a>, or CDFIs, and <a href="https://www.worldscientific.com/doi/abs/10.1142/S1084946720500028">Minority Depository Institutions</a>, or MDIs. These are financial institutions that are committed to economic development – banks, credit unions, loan funds, equity funds – that operate in low- and moderate-income neighborhoods. They offer what was sorely needed in North Tulsa, and many other neighborhoods across the nation – locally attuned financial institutions that understand the unique challenges families and businesses face in minority communities. </p>
<h2>Righting historical wrongs</h2>
<p>There are interventions we can take, locally and nationally, that recognize centuries of financial and social constraint. Initiatives like the recent decision by the Small Business Administration and U.S. Treasury to allocate <a href="https://home.treasury.gov/news/press-releases/sm1020">US$10 billion</a> to lenders that focus funds on disadvantaged areas are a start. These types of programs are needed even when there aren’t full-scale economic and social crises are taking place, like the COVID-19 epidemic or protesters in the street. Years of institutional barriers and racial wealth gaps cannot be redressed unless there’s a recognition that capital matters. </p>
<p>The 1921 Tulsa race riot began on May 31, only weeks before the annual celebration of Juneteenth, which is observed on June 19. As communities across the country begin recognizing Juneteenth and leading corporations <a href="https://www.cnbc.com/2020/06/17/here-are-the-companies-observing-juneteenth-this-year.html?__source=iosappshare%7Ccom.apple.UIKit.activity.Message">move to celebrate it</a>, it’s important to remember the story behind Juneteenth - slaves weren’t informed that they were emancipated. </p>
<p>After the celebrations, there’s hard work ahead. From my grandfather’s memory of the riot’s devastation to my own work addressing low-income communities’ economic challenges, I have come to see that change requires harnessing economic, governmental and nonprofit solutions that recognize and speak openly about the significant residential, educational and workplace racial segregation that still exists in the United States today.</p>
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<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Gregory B. Fairchild does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>More Americans are learning about the 1921 massacre in the prosperous black section of Tulsa known as the ‘Black Wall Street.’ For Gregory Fairchild, it is a part of his family history.Gregory B. Fairchild, Associate Professor of Business Administration, University of VirginiaLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1392522020-05-28T19:14:56Z2020-05-28T19:14:56ZWhy cellphone videos of Black people’s deaths should be considered sacred, like lynching photographs<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/338302/original/file-20200528-51509-12xe660.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=18%2C0%2C6164%2C4124&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Ahmaud Arbery's best friend, right, and his sister speak at a memorial event for Arbery on May 9, 2020.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/akeem-baker-best-friend-to-ahmaud-arbery-and-jasmine-arbery-news-photo/1212435890">Sean Rayford/Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>As <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/article/ahmaud-arbery-shooting-georgia.html">Ahmaud Arbery</a> fell to the ground, the sound of the gunshot that took his life echoed loudly throughout his Georgia neighborhood. </p>
<p>I rewound the video of his killing. Each time I viewed it, I was drawn first to the young black jogger’s seemingly carefree stride, which was halted by two white men in a white pickup truck. </p>
<p>Then I peered at Gregory McMichael, 64, and his son Travis, 34, who confronted Arbery in their suburban community. </p>
<p>I knew that the McMichaels told authorities that they suspected Arbery of robbing a nearby home in the neighborhood. They were performing a citizen’s arrest, they said. </p>
<p>The video shows Arbery jogging down the street and the McMichaels blocking his path with their vehicle. First, a scuffle. Then, gunshots at point-blank range <a href="https://gbi.georgia.gov/press-releases/2020-05-21/ahmaud-arbery-murder-investigation">from Travis McMichael’s weapon</a>.</p>
<p>My eyes traveled to the towering trees onscreen, which might have been the last things that Arbery saw. How many of those same trees, I wondered, had witnessed similar lynchings? And how many of those lynchings had been photographed, to offer a final blow of humiliation to the dying?</p>
<h2>A series of modern lynchings</h2>
<p>It may be jarring to see that word – <a href="https://www.thenation.com/article/society/ahmaud-arbery-lynching/">lynching</a> – used to describe Arbery’s Feb. 23, 2020, killing. But many black people have shared with me that his death – followed in rapid succession by <a href="https://www.vox.com/2020/5/13/21257457/breonna-taylor-louisville-shooting-ahmaud-arbery-justiceforbre">Breonna Taylor</a>’s and now <a href="https://www.newyorker.com/news/daily-comment/the-death-of-george-floyd-in-context">George Floyd</a>’s officer-involved murders – hearkens back to a long tradition of killing black people without repercussion.</p>
<p>Perhaps even more <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2015/06/24/magazine/racisms-psychological-toll.html?_r=0">traumatizing</a> is the ease with which some of these deaths can be viewed online. In my new book, “<a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/bearing-witness-while-black-9780190935535">Bearing Witness While Black: African Americans, Smartphones and the New Protest #Journalism</a>,” I call for Americans to stop viewing footage of black people dying so casually. </p>
<p>Instead, cellphone videos of vigilante violence and fatal police encounters should be viewed like lynching photographs – with solemn reserve and careful circulation. To understand this shift in viewing context, I believe it is useful to explore how people became so comfortable viewing black people’s dying moments in the first place. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/338309/original/file-20200528-51449-4tbgaq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/338309/original/file-20200528-51449-4tbgaq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/338309/original/file-20200528-51449-4tbgaq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=396&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/338309/original/file-20200528-51449-4tbgaq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=396&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/338309/original/file-20200528-51449-4tbgaq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=396&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/338309/original/file-20200528-51449-4tbgaq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=498&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/338309/original/file-20200528-51449-4tbgaq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=498&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/338309/original/file-20200528-51449-4tbgaq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=498&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Police confront protesters in Minneapolis in the wake of George Floyd’s death while in police custody on May 25, 2020.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/police-officers-stand-in-a-line-while-facing-protesters-news-photo/1215628250">Stephen Maturen/Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Images of black people’s deaths pervasive</h2>
<p>Every major era of domestic terror against African Americans – slavery, lynching and police brutality – has an accompanying iconic photograph. </p>
<p>The most familiar image of slavery is the <a href="https://www.history.com/news/whipped-peter-slavery-photo-scourged-back-real-story-civil-war">1863 picture</a> of “Whipped Peter,” whose back bears an intricate cross-section of scars. </p>
<p>Famous images of lynchings include the <a href="https://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=129025516">1930 photograph</a> of the mob who murdered Thomas Shipp and Abram Smith in Marion, Indiana. A wild-eyed white man appears at the bottom of the frame, pointing upward to the black men’s hanged bodies. The image inspired Abel Meeropol to write the poem “<a href="https://www.biography.com/news/billie-holiday-strange-fruit">Strange Fruit</a>,” which was later turned into a song that blues singer Billie Holiday sang around the world. </p>
<p>Twenty-five years later, the 1955 photos of <a href="http://100photos.time.com/photos/emmett-till-david-jackson">Emmett Till’s</a> maimed body became a new generation’s cultural touchstone. The 14-year-old black boy was beaten, shot and thrown into a local river by white men after a white woman accused him of whistling at her. She later admitted that she lied.</p>
<p>Throughout the 1900s, and until today, police brutality against black people has been immortalized by the media too. Americans have watched government officials <a href="https://www.loc.gov/item/2014645234/">open firehoses</a> on young civil rights protesters, unleash <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Story-Birmingham-Rights-Movement-Photographs/dp/1464404178">German shepherds</a> and wield <a href="https://www.npr.org/sections/codeswitch/2015/03/06/390943835/photographer-helped-expose-brutality-of-selmas-bloody-sunday">billy clubs</a> against peaceful marchers, and shoot and tase today’s black men, women and children – first on the televised evening news, and, eventually, on cellphones that could distribute the footage online. </p>
<p>When I conducted the interviews for my book, many black people told me that they carry this historical reel of violence against their ancestors in their heads. That’s why, for them, watching modern versions of these hate crimes is too painful to bear. </p>
<p>Still, there are other groups of black people who believe that the videos do serve a purpose, to educate the masses about race relations in the U.S. I believe these tragic videos can serve both purposes, but it will take effort. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/337712/original/file-20200526-106815-f764c8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/337712/original/file-20200526-106815-f764c8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/337712/original/file-20200526-106815-f764c8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=804&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/337712/original/file-20200526-106815-f764c8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=804&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/337712/original/file-20200526-106815-f764c8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=804&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/337712/original/file-20200526-106815-f764c8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1010&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/337712/original/file-20200526-106815-f764c8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1010&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/337712/original/file-20200526-106815-f764c8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1010&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">In 1922 the NAACP ran a series of full-page ads in The New York Times calling attention to lynchings.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://historymatters.gmu.edu/d/6786">New York Times, Nov. 23, 1922/American Social History Project</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Reviving the ‘shadow archive’</h2>
<p>In the early 1900s, when the news of a lynching was fresh, some of the nation’s first civil rights organizations circulated any available images of the lynching widely, to raise awareness of the atrocity. They did this by publishing the images in black magazines and newspapers.</p>
<p>After that image reached peak circulation, it was typically removed from public view and placed into a “<a href="https://books.google.com/books?hl=en&lr=&id=teHcibtMYBUC&oi=fnd&pg=PA299&dq=%22shadow+archive%22&ots=fZ5BpYeU7c&sig=_d5TztNJTaujBDFtait_T-Hh7dM#v=onepage&q=%22shadow%20archive%22&f=false">shadow archive</a>,” within a newsroom, library or museum. Reducing the circulation of the image was intended to make the public’s gaze more somber and respectful.</p>
<p>The National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, known popularly as the NAACP, often used this technique. In 1916, for example, the group published a horrific photograph of Jesse Washington, a 17-year-old boy who was hanged and burned in Waco, Texas, in its flagship magazine, “<a href="https://theundefeated.com/features/the-waco-horror/">The Crisis</a>.” </p>
<p>Memberships in the civil rights organization skyrocketed as a result. Blacks and whites wanted to know how to help. The NAACP used the money to push for anti-lynching legislation. It purchased a series of costly <a href="https://www.gilderlehrman.org/history-resources/spotlight-primary-source/lynching-america-ca-1926">full-page ads</a> in The New York Times to lobby leading politicians. </p>
<p>Though the NAACP endures today, neither its website nor its Instagram page bears casual images of lynching victims. Even when the organization issued a <a href="https://www.naacp.org/latest/naacp-issues-statement-murder-ahmaud-arbery/">statement about the Arbery killing</a>, it refrained from reposting the chilling video within its missive. That restraint shows a degree of respect that not all news outlets and social media users have used.</p>
<h2>A curious double standard</h2>
<p>Critics of the shadow archive may argue that once a photograph reaches the internet, it is very difficult to pull back from future news reports. </p>
<p>This is, however, simply not true. </p>
<p>Images of white people’s deaths are <a href="https://www.theverge.com/2019/12/16/21021005/google-youtube-moderators-ptsd-accenture-violent-disturbing-content-interviews-video">removed from news coverage all the time</a>. </p>
<p>It is difficult to find online, for example, imagery from any of the numerous mass shootings that have affected scores of white victims. Those murdered in the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting of 2012, or at the Las Vegas music festival of 2017, are most often remembered in <a href="https://www.cnn.com/2017/12/14/us/sandy-hook-newtown-shooting-victims-profiles/index.html">endearing portraits instead</a>. </p>
<p>In my view, cellphone videos of black people being killed should be given this same consideration. Just as past generations of activists used these images briefly – and only in the context of social justice efforts – so, too, should today’s imagery retreat from view quickly. </p>
<p>The suspects in Arbery’s killing have been arrested. The Minneapolis police officers involved in Floyd’s death have been fired and placed under investigation. The videos of their deaths have served the purpose of attracting public outrage. </p>
<p>To me, airing the tragic footage on TV, in auto-play videos on websites and social media is no longer serving its <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/national/this-was-supposed-to-go-away-the-battle-to-shape-how-the-world-viewed-ahmaud-arberys-killing/2020/05/22/089916b8-98f6-11ea-89fd-28fb313d1886_story.html">social justice purpose</a>, and is now simply exploitative. </p>
<p>Likening the fatal footage of Ahmaud Arbery and George Floyd to lynching photographs invites us to treat them more thoughtfully. We can respect these images. We can handle them with care. In the quiet, final frames, we can share their last moments with them, if we choose to. We do not let them die alone. We do not let them disappear into the hush of knowing trees.</p>
<p>[<em>Insight, in your inbox each day.</em> <a href="https://theconversation.com/us/newsletters?utm_source=TCUS&utm_medium=inline-link&utm_campaign=newsletter-text&utm_content=insight">You can get it with The Conversation’s email newsletter</a>.]</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/139252/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Allissa V. Richardson does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>The US has a centuries-old tradition of killing black people without repercussion – and of publicly viewing the violence. Spreading those images can disrespect the dead and traumatize viewers.Allissa V. Richardson, Assistant Professor of Journalism, USC Annenberg School for Communication and JournalismLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1378732020-05-18T13:01:07Z2020-05-18T13:01:07ZThere’s a history of white supremacists interpreting government leaders’ words as encouragement<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/377618/original/file-20210107-23-vom98g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=70%2C70%2C6569%2C4376&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The Proud Boys outside the US Capitol in Washington, DC on Wednesday, January 6, 2021. </span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/the-proud-boys-outside-the-us-capitol-in-washington-dc-on-news-photo/1230463103?adppopup=true">Amanda Andrade-Rhoades/For The Washington Post via Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p><a href="https://www.splcenter.org/hatewatch/2020/03/26/white-supremacists-see-coronavirus-opportunity">White supremacist</a> and <a href="https://theconversation.com/why-are-white-supremacists-protesting-to-reopen-the-us-economy-137044">militia</a> organizations are <a href="https://www.npr.org/2020/04/16/835343965/-a-perfect-storm-extremists-look-for-ways-to-exploit-coronavirus-pandemic">exploiting</a> the government’s chaotic response to the coronavirus for recruitment efforts. </p>
<p>Whatever his intention, these groups interpret President Donald Trump’s tweets to <a href="https://www.nbcnews.com/tech/security/trump-s-liberate-tweets-extremists-see-call-arms-n1186561">“LIBERATE” states</a> and calling armed protesters “<a href="https://www.commondreams.org/news/2020/05/01/echoing-praise-charlottesville-neo-nazis-trump-calls-armed-anti-lockdown-fanatics">very good people</a>” as support for their cause.</p>
<p><a href="https://www.techtransparencyproject.org/articles/extremists-are-using-facebook-to-organize-for-civil-war-amid-coronavirus">Recent research by the Tech Transparency Project into social media accounts of white supremacists</a>, a nonprofit that researches “the influence of the major technology platforms” on politics, policy and people’s lives, found that “some members of private … Facebook groups reacted to the president’s rhetoric (about lockdown protests) with memes of celebration.” </p>
<p>The white supremacists’ response reflects the United States’ history of local, state and national political leaders encouraging white supremacist groups to challenge or overthrow democratic governments. </p>
<p>During Reconstruction, the post-Civil War period of forming interracial governments and reintegrating former Confederate states into the Union, white city and state leaders in the South tacitly encouraged violence against black voters by state militias and groups like the <a href="http://www.encyclopediaofalabama.org/article/h-2934">Ku Klux Klan</a>. They did it in a way that allowed those leaders to look innocent of any crimes. </p>
<p>Those groups used that chaos to end federal power in their states and reestablish white-dominated Southern state governments. </p>
<p>Today, <a href="https://theconversation.com/why-are-white-supremacists-protesting-to-reopen-the-us-economy-137044">white supremacists hope the political chaos they contribute to will lead to</a> <a href="https://www.hup.harvard.edu/catalog.php?isbn=9780674286078">race war</a> <a href="https://theconversation.com/what-are-the-reopen-protesters-really-saying-137558">and the creation of their own white nation</a>. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/335430/original/file-20200515-138629-j429aj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/335430/original/file-20200515-138629-j429aj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/335430/original/file-20200515-138629-j429aj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=748&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335430/original/file-20200515-138629-j429aj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=748&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335430/original/file-20200515-138629-j429aj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=748&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335430/original/file-20200515-138629-j429aj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=940&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335430/original/file-20200515-138629-j429aj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=940&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335430/original/file-20200515-138629-j429aj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=940&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Cartoon by Thomas Nast in an 1868 Harper’s Weekly, ‘This is a white man’s government,’ skewering Southern white supremacists fighting Reconstruction laws.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.loc.gov/item/98513794/">Library of Congress</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Reconstruction violence</h2>
<p>Moments of changing social and political power in U.S. history have led to clashes – <a href="https://www.dukeupress.edu/this-nonviolent-stuffll-get-you-killed">often armed</a> – between white supremacists and interracial alliances over voting rights.</p>
<p>That history includes the period following the Civil War, when white supremacist organizations saw the postwar rule over Southern states of Radical Republicans and the federal government as illegitimate. They wanted to return to the prewar status quo of <a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/14301/slavery-by-another-name-by-douglas-a-blackmon/">slavery by another name</a> and white supremacist rule.</p>
<p>As a historian of <a href="https://networks.h-net.org/node/4113/discussions/157750/register-kentucky-historical-society-vol-115-no-1-now-available">protests and Reconstruction</a>, I study how those paramilitary groups or self-proclaimed “regulators” consequently spread fear and terror among black and white Republican voters with the support of the anti-black Democratic Party in Southern states. </p>
<p>They targeted elections and vowed to “<a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=U7hpAAAAcAAJ&pg=PA2101&lpg=PA2101&dq=%E2%80%9Ccarry+the+election+peaceably+if+we+can,+forcibly+if+we+must.%E2%80%9D&source=bl&ots=vZU88x92mU&sig=ACfU3U34H7Xb-2aUHMGrMKULNiHBUi1D4w&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjxyZvYgKrpAhXRKs0KHXiiCuUQ6AEwBXoECAQQAQ#v=onepage&q=%E2%80%9Ccarry%20the%20election%20peaceably%20if%20we%20can%2C%20forcibly%20if%20we%20must.%E2%80%9D&f=false">carry the election peaceably if we can, forcibly if we must</a>.” </p>
<p>Still, many courageous black and white voters <a href="https://ldhi.library.cofc.edu/exhibits/show/after_slavery_educator/unit_nine_documents/document_4">fought back</a> by forming political organizations, daring to vote and <a href="https://www.facinghistory.org/reconstruction-era/black-south-carolinians-form-militia-protection-1874">assembling their own armed guards</a> to protect themselves.</p>
<h2>‘Gentlemen of property and standing’</h2>
<p>Then, as today, white supremacists received encouraging signals from powerful leaders. </p>
<p>In the 19th century, “<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Gentlemen-Property-Standing-Anti-Abolition-Jacksonian/dp/0195013514">gentlemen of property and standing</a>” often led or indirectly supported anti-abolition mobs, slave patrols, lynch mobs or Klan attacks. </p>
<p>Federal investigators in Kentucky in 1867 found that “<a href="https://muse.jhu.edu/article/572671/pdf">many men of wealth and position</a>” rode with the armed groups. One witness in the federal investigation testified that “many of the most respectable men in the county belong in the ‘Lynch’ party.” Future South Carolina Governor and U.S. Senator “Pitchfork” Ben Tillman reflected on his participation in the <a href="http://www.scencyclopedia.org/sce/entries/hamburg-massacre/">Hamburg massacre</a> of 1876, arguing that “<a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/Ben_Tillman_and_the_Reconstruction_of_Wh/dOA4CQAAQBAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=having+the+whites+demonstrate+their+superiority+by+killing+as+many+as+was+justifiable&pg=PA67&printsec=frontcover">the leading men</a>” of the area wanted to teach black voters a lesson by “having the whites demonstrate their superiority by killing as many as was justifiable.” At least six black men were killed in the Hamburg attack on the black South Carolina militia by the <a href="http://www.scencyclopedia.org/sce/entries/red-shirts/">Red Shirts</a>, a white rifle club.</p>
<p>White supremacists knew that they would not face consequences for their violence. </p>
<p>An agent of the federal <a href="https://www.archives.gov/research/african-americans/freedmens-bureau">Freedmen’s Bureau</a> – set up by Congress in 1865 to help former slaves and poor whites in the South – stated that the “<a href="https://ldhi.library.cofc.edu/exhibits/show/after_slavery_educator/unit_nine_documents/document_3">desperadoes</a>” received encouragement and were “screened from the hands of justice by citizens of boasted connections.” </p>
<p>President Ulysses S. Grant <a href="https://www.loc.gov/resource/rbpe.2070020a/?sp=2&st=text">condemned</a> the Hamburg massacre, arguing that some claimed “the right to kill negroes and Republicans without fear of punishment and without loss of caste or reputation.” </p>
<p>Facing community pressure, and without the <a href="https://www.hup.harvard.edu/catalog.php?isbn=9780674743984">presence of the U.S. Army</a> to enforce laws, local sheriffs and judges refused or were unable to enforce federal laws. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/335434/original/file-20200515-138644-1sdk9y9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/335434/original/file-20200515-138644-1sdk9y9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/335434/original/file-20200515-138644-1sdk9y9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=260&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335434/original/file-20200515-138644-1sdk9y9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=260&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335434/original/file-20200515-138644-1sdk9y9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=260&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335434/original/file-20200515-138644-1sdk9y9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=327&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335434/original/file-20200515-138644-1sdk9y9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=327&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335434/original/file-20200515-138644-1sdk9y9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=327&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Armed rioters shown in the aftermath of the multiracial Wilmington, North Carolina, government being overthrown by white supremacists in 1898.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.loc.gov/photos/?q=Wilmington,+N.C.+race+riot">Library of Congress</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Witnesses were often afraid to challenge local leaders for fear of attack. The “<a href="https://muse.jhu.edu/article/572671/pdf">reign of terror</a>” was so complete that “men dare not report outrages and appear as witnesses.”</p>
<p>When the U.S. District Court in Kentucky brought charges against two men for lynching in 1871, prosecutors could not find witnesses willing to testify against the accused. The <a href="https://www.loc.gov/item/sn82015463/">Frankfort Commonwealth</a> newspaper wrote, “He would be hung by a [mob] inside of twenty-four hours, and the dominant sentiment … would say ‘served him right.’”</p>
<h2>State militias</h2>
<p>As Southern states threw off federal military occupation and elected their own white-dominated governments, they no longer had to rely solely on white terror organizations to enforce their agenda. </p>
<p>Instead, these self-described “<a href="https://www.ncpedia.org/redeemer-democrats">redeemers</a>” formed state-funded militias that served similar functions of intimidation and voter suppression with the support of prominent citizens. </p>
<p>At political rallies and elections throughout the South, official Democratic militias paraded through towns and <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/For_Slavery_and_Union/D917BgAAQBAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&bsq=democratic%20partisan%20militia">monitored polling stations</a> to threaten black and white Republican voters, proclaiming that “<a href="https://vtext.valdosta.edu/xmlui/bitstream/handle/10428/1130/butler-joshua-w_almost-too-terrible-to-believe_history_thesis_2012.pdf?sequence=1&isAllowed=y">this is our country and we intend to protect it or die</a>.” </p>
<p>In 1870 the <a href="https://www.loc.gov/item/sn84020086/">Louisville Commercial</a> newspaper argued, “We have, then, a militia for the State of Kentucky composed of members of one political party, and designed solely to operate against members of another political party. These militia are armed with State guns, are equipped from the State arsenal, and to a man are the enemies of the national government.” </p>
<p>By driving away Republican voters and claiming electoral victory, these Democratic leaders gained power through state-supported militia violence. </p>
<p>White militias and paramilitary groups also confiscated guns from black citizens who tried to protect themselves, claiming “<a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=xvIYAAAAIAAJ&pg=PA1057&lpg=PA1057&dq=%E2%80%9CWe+did+not+think+they+had+a+right+to+have+guns.%E2%80%9D&source=bl&ots=30R_twS8pK&sig=ACfU3U2HxA-pbH0zCkMHuGweuTsTwmODWg&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwicxtWNgKXpAhWCaM0KHbwYAMsQ6AEwAHoECAMQAQ#v=onepage&q=%E2%80%9CWe%20did%20not%20think%20they%20had%20a%20right%20to%20have%20guns.%E2%80%9D&f=false">We did not think they had a right to have guns</a>.” </p>
<p>White terror groups and their allies in law enforcement were especially hostile to politically active black Union veterans who returned home with their military weapons. Local sheriffs confiscated weapons and armed bands raided homes to destroy their guns. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/335459/original/file-20200515-138654-ndapxj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/335459/original/file-20200515-138654-ndapxj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/335459/original/file-20200515-138654-ndapxj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=743&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335459/original/file-20200515-138654-ndapxj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=743&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335459/original/file-20200515-138654-ndapxj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=743&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335459/original/file-20200515-138654-ndapxj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=933&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335459/original/file-20200515-138654-ndapxj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=933&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335459/original/file-20200515-138654-ndapxj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=933&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">In an 1874 Harper’s Weekly cartoon, ‘The Union as it was,’ Thomas Nast critiques violent white supremacist organizations for forcing African Americans into a position ‘worse than slavery.’</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.loc.gov/item/2001696840/">Library of Congress/Thomas Nast from Harpers Weekly</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Guerrilla race war</h2>
<p>During Reconstruction, paramilitary groups and official Democratic militias found support from county sheriffs up to state governors who encouraged violence while maintaining their own innocence.</p>
<p>Today, white supremacists appear to interpret politicians’ remarks as support for their cause of a <a href="https://gizmodo.com/report-over-100-militant-groups-have-been-promoting-se-1843051231">new civil war</a> to create a white-dominated government. </p>
<p>These groups <a href="https://www.techtransparencyproject.org/articles/extremists-are-using-facebook-to-organize-for-civil-war-amid-coronavirus">thrive on recent protests against stay-at-home orders</a>, especially the ones featuring <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/outlook/2020/04/27/why-are-people-bringing-guns-anti-quarantine-protests-be-intimidating/">protesters with guns</a>, creating an <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2020/05/13/us/coronavirus-businesses-lockdown-guns.html">intimidating spectacle</a> for those who support local and state government authority. </p>
<p>Beyond “<a href="https://belonging.berkeley.edu/blog-revisiting-dog-whistle-politics">dog whistle</a>” politics, as in the past, these statements – and the actions encouraged by them – can lead to real <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2020/04/16/us/massachusetts-bomb-jewish-nursing-home.html">violence</a> and <a href="https://www.nbcnews.com/news/asian-america/senate-democrats-demand-action-cdc-doj-curb-covid-19-racism-n1201491">hate crimes</a> against any who threaten supremacists’ concept of a white nation.</p>
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<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Shannon M. Smith does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>White supremacists’ protests against COVID-19 lockdowns reflect the US history of political leaders encouraging white supremacist groups to challenge or overthrow democratic governments.Shannon M. Smith, Associate Professor of History, College of Saint Benedict & Saint John's UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1299632020-02-10T13:57:20Z2020-02-10T13:57:20ZLynching preachers: How black pastors resisted Jim Crow and white pastors incited racial violence<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/313546/original/file-20200204-41476-1tkrfxm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C0%2C3620%2C2406&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">A funeral held in July 1945 for two victims of the Ku Klux Klan, George Dorsey and his sister, Dorothy Dorsey Malcolm, of Walton County, Georgia, held at the Mt. Perry Baptist Church Sunday. </span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/the-funeral-for-two-of-the-victims-in-the-july-25th-news-photo/514970326?adppopup=true">Bettman via Getty</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>White lynch mobs in America murdered at least 4,467 people between 1883 and 1941, hanging, burning, dismembering, garroting and blowtorching their victims. </p>
<p>Their violence was widespread but not indiscriminate: About 3,300 of the lynched were black, according to the <a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/full/10.1177/2378023119841780">most recent count</a> by sociologists <a href="https://sociology.la.psu.edu/people/czs792">Charles Seguin</a> and <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/profile/David_Rigby3">David Rigby</a>. The remaining dead were white, Mexican, of Mexican descent, Native American, Chinese or Japanese. </p>
<p>Such numbers, based on verifiable newspaper reports, represent a minimum. The full human toll of racial lynching may remain ever beyond reach.</p>
<p>Religion was no barrier for these white murderers, as I’ve discovered in my <a href="https://thewitnessbcc.com/on-the-assault-of-james-cone-black-liberation-theology/">research</a> on Christianity and lynch mobs in the Reconstruction-era South. White preachers incited racial violence, <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3856205/">joined the Ku Klux Klan</a> and <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Lynching-Beyond-Dixie-American-Violence/dp/0252078950">lynched black people</a>. </p>
<p>Sometimes, the victim was a pastor. </p>
<h2>Buttressing white supremacy</h2>
<p>When considering American racial terror, the first question to answer is not how a lynch mob could kill a man of the cloth but why white lynch mobs killed at all. </p>
<p>The typical answer from Southern apologists was <a href="https://www.unz.com/print/Forum-1893oct-00167/?__cf_chl_jschl_tk__=cab61c7ba91a12d8c33b54ec2f574e7d6f6d6d3b-1580782592-0-AW7mBphh9C90hiWp9iXtbrJd2X4vYmDZ3NBpAUJGadAyuvhKERXLIaRrUgD72UCVy4RMEb8FbCUkvRELIFAi3QVpOU4pOgUm6qePhlqqATqAhMukQcKoeCPdDhBY03Qib0YIc9h5PogqRuh0ROtQ-6_cUgQnAA1AakxbYunotcDRUqB9KAJ_-_ANkxEELzy2irMoW3znVMUEssmuQQx8z5Fsc58tOJAHp9fz_dOiHwQa6uEAIw9AzwmsaZJCiomSTd54iZgwivAkNtLjSTLBDUBY8BQIuSrGmxIVupNDAs0u">that only black men who raped white women</a> were targeted. In this view, lynching was “popular justice” – the response of an aggrieved community to a heinous crime.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/313558/original/file-20200204-41554-18tg6e0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/313558/original/file-20200204-41554-18tg6e0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/313558/original/file-20200204-41554-18tg6e0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=452&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/313558/original/file-20200204-41554-18tg6e0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=452&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/313558/original/file-20200204-41554-18tg6e0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=452&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/313558/original/file-20200204-41554-18tg6e0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=568&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/313558/original/file-20200204-41554-18tg6e0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=568&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/313558/original/file-20200204-41554-18tg6e0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=568&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A white lynch mob in Shelbyville, Tennessee, in 1941.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/the-determined-men-of-a-shelbyville-tennessee-mob-were-news-photo/515589032?adppopup=true">Bettmann via Getty</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Journalists like <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2018/obituaries/overlooked-ida-b-wells.html">Ida B. Wells</a> and early sociologists like <a href="https://www.blackpast.org/african-american-history/work-monroe-nathan-1866-1945/">Monroe Work</a> saw through that smokescreen, finding that only about <a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/000271621304900110">20% to 25%</a> of lynching victims were alleged rapists. About 3% were <a href="https://theconversation.com/lynching-memorial-shows-women-were-victims-too-95029">women</a>. Some were children. </p>
<p>Black people were <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/14977/14977-h/14977-h.htm">lynched for murder or assault</a>, or on suspicion that they committed those crimes. They could also be lynched for looking at a white woman or for bumping the shoulder of a white woman. Some were killed for being near or <a href="http://www.waltontribune.com/article_71c8489e-7152-11e7-9190-4f7f8e038947.html">related to someone</a> accused of the aforementioned offenses.</p>
<p>Identifying the dead is supremely difficult work. As sociologists <a href="https://academic.oup.com/ahr/article-abstract/121/4/1310/2581695">Amy Kate Bailey and Stewart Tolnay</a> argue persuasively in their 2015 book “<a href="https://uncpress.org/book/9781469620879/lynched/">Lynched</a>,” very little is known about lynching victims beyond their gender and race. </p>
<p>But by cross-referencing news reports with census data, <a href="https://uncpress.org/book/9781469620879/lynched/">scholars</a> and <a href="https://eji.org">civil rights organizations</a> are uncovering more details.</p>
<p>One might expect that mobs seeking to destabilize the black community would focus on the successful and the influential – people like <a href="https://www.dukeupress.edu/the-black-church-in-the-african-american-experience">preachers</a> or prominent business owners. </p>
<p>Instead, lynching disproportionately targeted lower-status black people – individuals society would not protect, like the agricultural worker <a href="https://digital.wwnorton.com/america11">Sam Hose</a> of Georgia and men like <a href="https://lynchinginamerica.eji.org/explore/texas/henry-smith">Henry Smith</a>, a Texas handyman accused of raping and killing a three-year-old girl. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/313550/original/file-20200204-41503-1vyp3ky.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/313550/original/file-20200204-41503-1vyp3ky.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/313550/original/file-20200204-41503-1vyp3ky.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/313550/original/file-20200204-41503-1vyp3ky.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/313550/original/file-20200204-41503-1vyp3ky.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/313550/original/file-20200204-41503-1vyp3ky.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/313550/original/file-20200204-41503-1vyp3ky.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/313550/original/file-20200204-41503-1vyp3ky.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The National Memorial For Peace And Justice in Montgomery, Alabama, commemorates the victims of lynching.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/markers-display-the-names-and-locations-of-individuals-news-photo/951575614?adppopup=true">Bob Miller/Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The rope and the pyre snuffed out primarily the socially marginal: the unemployed, the unmarried, the precarious – often not the prominent – who expressed any discontentment with racial caste.</p>
<p>That’s because lynching was a <a href="https://nyupress.org/9780814793992/">form of social control</a>. By killing workers with few connections who could be economically replaced – and doing so in <a href="https://uncpress.org/book/9780807871973/lynching-and-spectacle/">brutal, public ways that struck terror</a> into black communities – lynching kept white supremacy on track.</p>
<h2>Fight from the front lines</h2>
<p>So black ministers weren’t often lynching victims, but they could be targeted if they got in the way. </p>
<p>I.T. Burgess, a preacher in Putnam County, Florida, was hanged in 1894 after being accused of planning to instigate a revolt, according to a May 30, 1894, story in the Atlanta Constitution newspaper. Later that year, in December, the Constitution also reported, Lucius Turner, a preacher near West Point, Georgia, was shot by two brothers for apparently writing an insulting note to their sister. </p>
<p>Ida B. Wells wrote in her 1895 editorial “<a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/309644/the-light-of-truth-by-ida-b-wells/">A Red Record</a>” about Reverend King, a minister in Paris, Texas, who was beaten with a Winchester Rifle and placed on a train out of town. His offense, he said, was being the only person in Lamar County to speak against the horrific 1893 lynching of the handyman Henry Smith. </p>
<p>In each of these cases, the victim’s profession was ancillary to their lynching. But preaching was not incidental to black pastors’ resistance to lynching. </p>
<p>My dissertation research shows black pastors across the U.S. spoke out against racial violence during its worst period, despite the clear danger that it put them in. </p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/313554/original/file-20200204-41490-1h8qknc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/313554/original/file-20200204-41490-1h8qknc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/313554/original/file-20200204-41490-1h8qknc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=750&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/313554/original/file-20200204-41490-1h8qknc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=750&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/313554/original/file-20200204-41490-1h8qknc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=750&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/313554/original/file-20200204-41490-1h8qknc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=942&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/313554/original/file-20200204-41490-1h8qknc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=942&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/313554/original/file-20200204-41490-1h8qknc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=942&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Ida B. Wells, the great documentarian of the lynching era, in 1920.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/portrait-of-ida-b-wells-1920-news-photo/529345339?adppopup=true">Chicago History Museum/Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Many, like the Washington, D.C., Presbyterian pastor Francis Grimke, <a href="https://books.google.com/books/about/The_works_of_Francis_J_Grimke_%CC%80.html?id=8--0AAAAMAAJ">preached to their congregations</a> about racial violence. Grimke argued for comprehensive anti-racist education as a way to undermine the <a href="https://theconversation.com/uncovering-the-roots-of-racist-ideas-in-america-71467">narratives</a> that led to lynching.</p>
<p>Other pastors wrote furiously about anti-black violence. </p>
<p>Charles Price Jones, the founder of the Church of God (Holiness) in Mississippi, for example, wrote <a href="https://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/100835320">poetry affirming the African heritage of black Americans</a>. Sutton Griggs, a black Baptist pastor from Texas, wrote <a href="https://wvupressonline.com/node/701">novels</a> that were, in reality, thinly veiled political treatises. Pastors wrote articles against lynching in their own <a href="https://www.thechristianrecorder.com/">denominational newspapers</a>.</p>
<h2>By any means necessary</h2>
<p>Some white pastors <a href="https://slate.com/news-and-politics/2015/02/jim-crow-souths-lynching-of-blacks-and-christianity-the-terror-inflicted-by-whites-was-considered-a-religious-ritual.html">decried racial terror</a>, too. But others used the pulpit to <a href="https://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2017/september/legacy-lynching-america-christians-repentance.html">instigate violence</a>. </p>
<p>On June 21, 1903, the white pastor of Olivet Presbyterian church in Delaware used his religious leadership to <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Lynching-Beyond-Dixie-American-Violence/dp/0252078950">incite a lynching</a>. </p>
<p>Preaching to a crowd of 3,000 gathered in downtown Wilmington, Reverend Robert A. Elwood urged the jury in the trial of George White – a black farm laborer accused of raping and killing a 17-year-old white girl, Helen Bishop – to pronounce White guilty speedily. </p>
<p>Otherwise, Elwood continued, according to a June 23, 1903 New York Times article, White should be lynched. He cited the Biblical text <a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1+Corinthians+5%3A13&version=NIV">1 Corinthians 5:13</a>, which orders Christians to “expel the wicked person from among you.” </p>
<p>“The responsibility for lynching would be yours for delaying the execution of the law,” Elwood thundered, exhorting the jury.</p>
<p>George White was dragged out of jail the next day, bound and burned alive in front of 2,000 people. </p>
<p>The following Sunday, a black pastor named Montrose W. Thornton discussed the week’s barbarities with his own congregation in Wilmington. He urged self-defense.</p>
<p>“There is but one part left for the persecuted negro when charged with crime and when innocent. Be a law unto yourself,” he told his parishioners. “Die in your tracks, perhaps drinking the blood of your pursuer.” </p>
<p>Newspapers <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=7Vc_AQAAMAAJ&pg=PA54&lpg=PA54&dq=die+in+your+tracksperhaps+drinking+the+blood+of+your+pursuers&source=bl&ots=5Vffra-DdL&sig=ACfU3U2gGE1DXlCVALHFqvr1AEEJy-Dbrw&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjf3Pya6bHnAhUDYawKHTENDg8Q6AEwAHoECAcQAQ#v=onepage&q&f=false">around the country</a> denounced both sermons. An editorial in the Washington Star said both pastors had “contributed to the worst passions of the mob.”</p>
<p>By inciting lynching and advocating for self defense, the editors judged, Elwood and Thornton had “brought the pulpit into disrepute.” </p>
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<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Malcolm Brian Foley does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Religion was no barrier for Southern lynch mobs intent on terror. White pastors joined the KKK, incited racial violence and took part in lynchings. Sometimes, the victim was a preacher.Malcolm Brian Foley, PhD Candidate in Religion - Historical Studies, Baylor UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1131642019-05-09T10:35:03Z2019-05-09T10:35:03ZMisery and memory in Glendora, Mississippi: How poverty is reshaping the story of Emmett Till’s murder<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/271100/original/file-20190425-121249-1dtisv7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Some say Till's body was dumped from the Old Black Bayou Bridge in Glendora, Mississippi. Others dispute this detail.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/cmhpictures/4539332897">cmh2315fl/flickr</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/">CC BY-NC</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>In August of 1955, Emmett Till was <a href="https://civilrightstrail.com/experience/sumner/">lynched in the Mississippi Delta</a>. The 14-year-old African American reportedly whistled at a white woman, violating the racial norms of the Jim Crow South. For this supposed infraction, he was abducted, tortured, shot and dropped in a river with a cotton gin fan tied to his neck.</p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/271203/original/file-20190426-194606-1ct2co1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/271203/original/file-20190426-194606-1ct2co1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=810&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/271203/original/file-20190426-194606-1ct2co1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=810&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/271203/original/file-20190426-194606-1ct2co1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=810&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/271203/original/file-20190426-194606-1ct2co1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1017&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/271203/original/file-20190426-194606-1ct2co1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1017&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/271203/original/file-20190426-194606-1ct2co1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1017&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A portrait of Emmett Till, Christmas 1954.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.apimages.com/metadata/Index/Associated-Press-Domestic-News-Illinois-United-/3ad34d4268e4da11af9f0014c2589dfb/1/0">AP Photo</a></span>
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</figure>
<p>Yet for 49 years and 11 months, his murder was all but forgotten in the Delta – the first memorial to Till wasn’t dedicated until July 1, 2005. </p>
<p>Since then, however, the region has witnessed an unprecedented “memory boom.” More than US$4 million has been invested in dozens of roadside markers, a museum, two restored buildings, an interpretive center, a walking park and a community building.</p>
<p>But many details of what happened to Till on that fateful night remain murky, and the abrupt investment in his memory raises a series of questions. Who gets to tell this racially charged story? Who gets to decide what, exactly, happened? And what’s motivating the construction of these memorials? </p>
<p>My just-published book, “<a href="https://www.press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/R/bo28300786.html">Remembering Emmett Till</a>,” addresses these questions head on. It suggests that as Till’s story has been passed down through the generations and taken up by a range of memorials, its plot has been shaped by forces like poverty as much as by fidelity to historical fact.</p>
<p>This is nowhere more conspicuous than in the village of Glendora, a small community 150 miles south of Memphis, in the heart of the Mississippi Delta. Beset by poverty, the village clings desperately to a version of Till’s story that few others seem to believe.</p>
<h2>A community mired in poverty</h2>
<p>Glendora is saturated with memorials. The tiny town of five streets boasts 18 signs dedicated to the memory of Emmett Till’s 1955 murder. In addition, Glendora is also home to the <a href="https://glendorams.com/">Emmett Till Historic Intrepid Center</a>, a Till-themed park and the Black Bayou Bridge – a long-decommissioned bridge recently explored in a <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2019/02/20/us/emmett-till-murder-legacy.html">New York Times article</a> as the site from which Till’s body may have been dropped in the water. </p>
<p>Glendora is also marked by breathtaking poverty. In an application for federal assistance, town officials noted that the Glendora median household income is 70% below the state average, 68% of families live below the poverty line, and just 18% of the adults have earned a high school education. <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=i4Y-DwAAQBAJ&printsec=frontcover&dq=stone+of+hope+google+books+thomas&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwiiqd3RzIziAhVkm-AKHROmC2gQ6AEIKjAA#v=onepage&q&f=false">According to numbers published by Glendora Mayor Johnny B. Thomas in 2017</a>, 86% of children in the village live below the poverty line. Partners in Development, a nonprofit committed to helping the poorest of the poor, has chosen to focus on Haiti, Guatemala and <a href="http://www.pidonline.org">Glendora, Mississippi</a>.</p>
<p>The Glendora version of Till’s story is unique on two counts. </p>
<p>First, while virtually every 20th-century history of Till’s murder suggests that the murderers dropped the body in the Tallahatchie River, the commemorative work in Glendora suggests that Till was dropped into a tributary known as the Black Bayou from a bridge on the south side of Glendora. According to this account, the bayou then carried Till’s body for three miles to the Tallahatchie River, where it was recovered. </p>
<p>Second, while no historian has been able to say with certainty where the murderers obtained the fan they used to weigh down Till’s corpse, the Glendora museum claims that the fan was stolen from the Glendora Cotton Gin, presumably by Elmer Kimbell, a gin employee and the next-door neighbor of <a href="https://vault.fbi.gov/Emmett%20Till%20/Emmett%20Till%20Part%2001%20of%2002/view">confessed murderer J. W. Milam</a>. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/271078/original/file-20190425-121224-14bzoh5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/271078/original/file-20190425-121224-14bzoh5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=448&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/271078/original/file-20190425-121224-14bzoh5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=448&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/271078/original/file-20190425-121224-14bzoh5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=448&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/271078/original/file-20190425-121224-14bzoh5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=563&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/271078/original/file-20190425-121224-14bzoh5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=563&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/271078/original/file-20190425-121224-14bzoh5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=563&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The building that once housed the Glendora Cotton Gin is now the Emmett Till Historic Intrepid Center, the only museum in the world entirely dedicated to Till’s murder.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://i.pinimg.com/originals/43/7f/5e/437f5eefc2dff68f7d71ad8feca01862.jpg">Pinterest</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Disputed details</h2>
<p>While these variations on the finer points of Till’s story may seem like minutiae, to Glendora residents they are matters so weighty that it sometimes seems as if the very future of the town hinges on where Till’s body was dropped in the water and what fan weighed it down. </p>
<p>In 2010, the <a href="https://www.mississippi.org/">Mississippi Development Authority</a> sent a team of economic development experts to Glendora. Their charge was to devise a plan to rescue the town from poverty – a tall order.</p>
<p>The team struggled to find solutions. Aside from the unrealistic suggestion that the town turn the snake-infested land along the bayou into “riverfront property,” the development authority’s only other proposal was that Glendora capitalize on its connection to the Till murder. More commemoration, they said, would bring tourists; tourism would beget economic development.</p>
<p>The viability of this suggestion, of course, turned on a version of Till’s story that maximized the relevance of Glendora. None of this was news to <a href="https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-2005-jul-30-na-johnny30-story.html">Mayor Thomas</a>. Since at least 2005, he had been promoting a Glendora-centric narrative of the murder in which Till’s body was dropped in the Black Bayou tied with a fan from the local gin. </p>
<p>While plausible, these claims are difficult to prove. One key authority has refuted them: <a href="http://www.mdah.ms.gov/new/">the Mississippi Department of Archives and History</a>.</p>
<p>The state agency has invested more funds into Till’s commemoration than any other organization. </p>
<p>It restored the <a href="https://civilrightstrail.com/destination/sumner/">Tallahatchie County Courthouse</a>, the site of the Till trial, and even invested $200,000 in the controversial restoration of <a href="https://muse.jhu.edu/article/675643">Ben Roy’s Service Station</a> in Money, Mississippi. Although the service station sits just 67 feet south of Bryant’s Grocery and Meat Market, the site of Till’s alleged whistle, it played no role in the Till murder, aside from unverified claims that customers discussed the murder from the porch.</p>
<p>The agency, however, is not convinced that Till’s body was dropped from the Black Bayou Bridge. Nor does the organization believe that the fan was stolen from the local gin. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/271200/original/file-20190426-194637-1o4a9v7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/271200/original/file-20190426-194637-1o4a9v7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=478&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/271200/original/file-20190426-194637-1o4a9v7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=478&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/271200/original/file-20190426-194637-1o4a9v7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=478&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/271200/original/file-20190426-194637-1o4a9v7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=601&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/271200/original/file-20190426-194637-1o4a9v7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=601&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/271200/original/file-20190426-194637-1o4a9v7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=601&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A cotton gin fan is presented as evidence in the trial. Its origins remain a point of contention.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.apimages.com/metadata/Index/Associated-Press-Domestic-News-Mississippi-Unit-/b122a52368e4da11af9f0014c2589dfb/24/0">AP Photo</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In fact, the agency has, in its files, a five-page “<a href="https://cdn.theconversation.com/static_files/files/588/Summary_of_Research.pdf?1557325145">Summary of Research</a>” that’s dedicated to the contested veracity of these two claims. The document finds neither claim verifiable and has thus rejected every grant application the town has ever submitted. </p>
<p>Mayor Thomas has one state agency telling him to lean hard into Till’s story and another rejecting his every attempt to do so.</p>
<h2>The mayor gets creative</h2>
<p>Without the backing of the Mississippi Department of Archives and History, Thomas has nonetheless been able to erect tributes to Till’s legacy.</p>
<p>The work began on Sept. 27, 2005. On that day, the United States Department of Agriculture awarded a Community Connect Broadband Grant to Glendora. <a href="https://cdn.theconversation.com/static_files/files/589/USDA.pdf?1557325418">Funded at $325,405</a>, the grant was intended to bring broadband connectivity to Glendora.</p>
<p>After obtaining the grant, Thomas used the USDA money <a href="https://cdn.theconversation.com/static_files/files/592/USDA.pdf?1557325734">to convert the old cotton gin</a> into a community computer lab with internet access. <a href="https://cdn.theconversation.com/static_files/files/591/MCRH_Grant_Application.pdf?1557325519">But he also used some of the funds</a> to construct the world’s first Emmett Till museum – <a href="https://civilrightstrail.com/attraction/emmett-till-historic-intrepid-center/">the Emmett Till Historic Intrepid Center</a> – which was also located in the gin. Although the USDA approved the expenses, it is unclear whether they knew that their money was being used to build a museum. In the 647 pages of records preserved by the USDA – including the application, labor contracts, invoices and correspondence – Emmett Till isn’t mentioned once.</p>
<p>After the grant ran out, Glendora couldn’t pay the bills and internet service was discontinued. It has not resumed. The museum, on the other hand, is still in operation and visitors do occasionally stop in, though the majority of tourists go to <a href="https://www.emmett-till.org/">Sumner</a>, a town 12 miles north of Glendora and the site of the trial. </p>
<p>While the museum was initially funded by the USDA, it is maintained on a day-to-day basis by the Glendora Economic and Community Development Corporation, a 501(c)3 founded by Thomas. The town has assigned most, if not all, public business to the nonprofit. Glendora’s development corporation pays city workers, operates 24 Section 8 apartments and operates the Till museum. According to <a href="https://www.guidestar.org/">public records</a>, the public housing funnels about $100,000 a year of federal HUD money into the nonprofit. With this money, the nonprofit maintains the apartments, pays city workers and, critically, subsidizes the Till museum. </p>
<p>Yet the questions remain unanswered: Was Emmett Till actually dropped from the Black Bayou Bridge? Was the fan stolen from the local gin? Was Elmer Kimbell involved? </p>
<p>Perhaps. But it is impossible to separate the veracity of these claims from the poverty of the townspeople. Thomas has been able to leverage the town’s poverty to support the museum; the museum, in turn, supports Glendora’s plausible-but-unverifiable theories of Till’s murder. Had Glendora been wealthy, there’d be little incentive to stick so adamantly to this version of the story. The Black Bayou Bridge would be lost to memory and Elmer Kimbell would rarely appear in the stories of Till’s final night.</p>
<p>But Glendora is not wealthy. Instead, sustained by the poverty of the town, stories about Kimbell, the Glendora Cotton Gin and the Black Bayou Bridge continue to circulate – <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2019/02/21/us/remembering-emmett-till-legacy-virtual-reality.html?login=smartlock&auth=login-smartlock">sometimes from the highest echelons of media</a>.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/113164/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Dave Tell wrote this article with support of the National Endowment for the Humanities. </span></em></p>Scholars continue to debate what, exactly, happened to Emmett Till the morning of his murder. But that hasn’t stopped a poor Mississippi community from trying to profit off one version of the story.Dave Tell, Professor of Communication, University of KansasLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1088212019-02-01T11:40:08Z2019-02-01T11:40:08ZSuper Bowl LIII and the soul of Atlanta<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/256475/original/file-20190130-127151-13yv0ky.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">During Super Bowl LIII, will Atlanta's long struggle for racial equality be highlighted or glossed over?</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/petercirophotography/25561248997">Peter Ciro/flickr</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/">CC BY-NC</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>As a <a href="http://www.worldcat.org/oclc/180852120">historian who studies W.E.B. Du Bois</a> – and as someone who once lived in nearby Athens, Georgia – I’m struck by the significance of Atlanta hosting the Super Bowl at this moment in the country’s history.</p>
<p>When Du Bois lived in Atlanta in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, it was a place of both opportunity and peril for blacks. During the civil rights era, it headquartered the Southern Christian Leadership Conference and the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee, while serving as a base for black student activism. Today, many view it as America’s “<a href="https://www.uncpress.org/book/9781469635354/the-legend-of-the-black-mecca/">Black Mecca</a>.” It has a solid black middle and upper class, possesses a vibrant soul and hip-hop music scene and serves as a base of black political power.</p>
<p>Atlanta hosting the Super Bowl, however, creates an undeniable paradox. </p>
<p>Over the past few seasons, the NFL has found itself grappling with the issue of whether to allow its players to protest the killings of unarmed black men and women by kneeling during the national anthem. The league has made clear that <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/sports/2018/10/17/nfl-plans-no-change-national-anthem-policy-least-through-season-perhaps-longer/?utm_term=.3a2b20282d0f">it doesn’t support players’ right to protest</a>, and many of the Americans who cheer for these players every Sunday object to those same players standing up against the racial inequalities that persist in American life.</p>
<p>While much of the focus of Sunday’s game will be on the pageantry and competition, I think it’s worth reflecting on how Atlanta evolved into the city it is today, the forces that threaten its progress, and how hosting the Super Bowl symbolizes this tension.</p>
<h2>Two Atlantas, two warring ideals</h2>
<p>In 1897, Du Bois came to Atlanta to establish a center of social scientific research at Atlanta University. During this time in Du Bois’ life, Atlanta was ground zero for America’s racial tensions. It was strictly segregated and subject to Jim Crow laws, and 241 blacks were lynched in Georgia <a href="https://uncpress.flexpub.com/preview/the-legend-of-the-black-mecca">between 1888 and 1903</a>.</p>
<p>In 1899, Du Bois lost his infant son, Burghardt, to diphtheria, a bacterial infection. Du Bois believed Burghardt died from a lack of prompt treatment because white doctors in Atlanta would not treat black patients. That same year, a black man named Sam Hose <a href="https://www.georgiaencyclopedia.org/articles/history-archaeology/w-e-b-du-bois-georgia">was brutally lynched</a> in nearby Newnan, Georgia, after being accused of raping a white woman. </p>
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<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/256481/original/file-20190130-112314-1k8gu6f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/256481/original/file-20190130-112314-1k8gu6f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=856&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/256481/original/file-20190130-112314-1k8gu6f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=856&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/256481/original/file-20190130-112314-1k8gu6f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=856&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/256481/original/file-20190130-112314-1k8gu6f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1075&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/256481/original/file-20190130-112314-1k8gu6f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1075&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/256481/original/file-20190130-112314-1k8gu6f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1075&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">W.E.B. Du Bois’ feelings about Atlanta alternated between hope and despair.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/12/Motto_web_dubois_original.jpg">National Portrait Gallery</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>These two events tremendously influenced Du Bois, his relationship with Atlanta, and his understanding of race in America. In 1903, he published “<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/408/408-h/408-h.htm">The Souls of Black Folk</a>,” in which he declared, “the problem of the 20th century is the problem of the color-line.” </p>
<p>Du Bois foresaw a future in which black Americans would endure the “psychic tension” of living in a society that encouraged them to be Americans yet condemned them to second-class citizenship. </p>
<p>“One ever feels his two-ness,” he wrote, “an American, a Negro; two souls, two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings; two warring ideals in one dark body, whose dogged strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder.”</p>
<p>Following the book’s publication, Du Bois continued to face challenges in Atlanta. In 1906, riots broke out after <a href="https://www.georgiaencyclopedia.org/articles/history-archaeology/atlanta-race-riot-1906">a local paper published rumors</a> of black men raping white women. In response, Du Bois penned the poem “<a href="https://www.bartleby.com/269/26.html">A Litany of Atlanta</a>,” petitioning God for understanding and intervention. </p>
<p>“A city lay in travail, God our Lord, and from her loins sprang twin Murder and Black Hate,” he wrote.</p>
<p>Despite his grief, Du Bois held out hope that Atlanta, the “city of a hundred hills,” could become a beacon of greater democracy.</p>
<h2>Of Atalanta and golden apples</h2>
<p>In “The Souls of Black Folk,” Du Bois also draws on Greek mythology to recount the legend of the “winged maiden” Atalanta, who, disinclined to marry, says she will only marry a man who can beat her in a foot race. When a suitor, Hippomenes, challenges Atalanta, he lures her off course with three golden apples. Atalanta’s greed costs her the race and she is forced to marry Hippomenes.</p>
<p>The story is a cautionary one. For Du Bois, Atlanta had the potential to be a great city. But if it worshiped materialism and chased wealth, it too would suffer the curse of Atalanta. Instead of reaching for golden apples, Du Bois encouraged Atlanta to establish and support universities that promote democratic ideals of “truth,” “freedom” and “broad humanity,” while striving to “Teach thinkers to think.”</p>
<p>In many ways, Atlanta has lived up to Du Bois’ dreams for the city. Today, it is home to the vibrant Atlanta University Center Consortium, which comprises Clark Atlanta University, Morehouse, Spelman and Morehouse School of Medicine; Atlanta, along with Washington, D.C., <a href="https://www.forbes.com/sites/joelkotkin/2018/01/15/the-cities-where-african-americans-are-doing-the-best-economically-2018/#173716261abe">is considered by Forbes as the best U.S. city economically for blacks</a>; and <a href="https://www.atlantaga.gov/government/mayor-s-office/meet-the-mayor">Keisha Lance Bottoms</a> serves as the city’s seventh consecutive black mayor. </p>
<p>Yet, as historian Maurice Hobson <a href="https://theconversation.com/can-atlantas-new-mayor-revive-americas-black-mecca-86902">has pointed out</a>, Atlanta also has a large percentage of its black population living in poverty. At certain points over the past five years, 80 percent of black children in Atlanta resided in poverty-ridden communities and unemployment among blacks <a href="https://www.13wmaz.com/article/news/local/georgia/report-puts-atlanta-among-the-50-worst-cities-to-live-in-the-country/93-564459928">has been as high as 22 percent</a>.</p>
<p>There is still work to be done, and golden apples can be tempting. According to the Metro Atlanta Chamber, the Super Bowl <a href="https://www.ajc.com/sports/football/new-stadium-lures-2019-super-bowl-atlanta/kJKUJdLlOwzOmoVAMkEFkO/">will reportedly have a US$400 million economic impact on the city</a>. While attracting revenue can be beneficial, the city has already lost of some its legacy as a result of development. </p>
<p>In fact, the $1.5 billion Mercedes-Benz Stadium, where the Super Bowl will be held, sits on the grounds of the historic Friendship and Mount Vernon Baptist churches – a symbol of how <a href="https://bittersoutherner.com/lightning-the-atlanta-community-lost-to-super-bowl-dreams">the forces of development can silence history and wipe out communities</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/256484/original/file-20190130-110834-1jyg271.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/256484/original/file-20190130-110834-1jyg271.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=404&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/256484/original/file-20190130-110834-1jyg271.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=404&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/256484/original/file-20190130-110834-1jyg271.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=404&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/256484/original/file-20190130-110834-1jyg271.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=508&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/256484/original/file-20190130-110834-1jyg271.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=508&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/256484/original/file-20190130-110834-1jyg271.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=508&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Police on horseback patrol the parking lot of Mercedes-Benz Stadium ahead of Super Bowl LIII.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.apimages.com/metadata/Index/Super-Bowl-Security/884a3a226dc24138a0d03c5ba04ab99d/1/0">AP Photo/David Goldman</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>What to watch for</h2>
<p>Du Bois’ ideas in “The Souls of Black Folk” provide a framework for understanding the complexities of the Super Bowl taking place in Atlanta. </p>
<p>While black players are lauded for their on-field accomplishments, the harsh criticism they receive for peacefully protesting racial inequality creates the double consciousness Du Bois so eloquently described. It raises, again, a question Du Bois famously posed: “How does it feel to be a problem? I answer seldom a word.”</p>
<p>Will the Super Bowl organizers showcase Atlanta’s civil rights history, or gloss over it? Will they bring attention to the city’s rich legacy of peacefully protesting racial injustice? I’m not getting my hopes up.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/256489/original/file-20190130-112314-m6kxfl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/256489/original/file-20190130-112314-m6kxfl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/256489/original/file-20190130-112314-m6kxfl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=825&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/256489/original/file-20190130-112314-m6kxfl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=825&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/256489/original/file-20190130-112314-m6kxfl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=825&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/256489/original/file-20190130-112314-m6kxfl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1037&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/256489/original/file-20190130-112314-m6kxfl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1037&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/256489/original/file-20190130-112314-m6kxfl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1037&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A man paints a mural on a building near the Mercedes Benz Stadium in Atlanta as part of a program to highlight Atlanta’s civil rights legacy.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.apimages.com/metadata/Index/Super-Bowl-Civil-Rights-Murals/c967734d665a4ec08c271f8769ff8ef5/4/0">AP Photo/John Bazemore</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>As I watch the halftime show, I will appreciate singer Rihanna’s <a href="https://www.usmagazine.com/celebrity-news/news/rihanna-declined-super-bowl-liii-halftime-show-offer/">refusal to participate</a>; I’ll also be thinking about Jay-Z’s decision not to perform at last year’s Super Bowl, <a href="https://www.ajc.com/sports/football/jay-turns-down-offer-perform-super-bowl/QhaU4XIe7YYWX98Ry7ez9H/">reportedly in support of players’ peaceful protests</a>.</p>
<p>Despite the paradox of hosting the Super Bowl, the city does seem to understand that this is an important opportunity to provide the nation with a teachable moment.</p>
<p>Last year, city officials launched an initiative <a href="https://www.ajc.com/news/local/civil-rights-themed-murals-grace-atlanta-before-super-bowl/fCwsRPTKS44B7HK7i7ls5M/">to paint murals</a> around the city to commemorate the civil rights movement in the months leading up to the Super Bowl. In addition, the NAACP and other civil rights groups <a href="https://www.ajc.com/news/state--regional/civil-rights-groups-rally-piedmont-park-ahead-super-bowl/IBlm7ZLIQYIzbIFtwF4a3J/">will hold a protest</a> on the day before the Super Bowl.</p>
<p>I hope that this tradition will continue – that, in the long run, Atlanta will resist the temptation to be enticed by Hippomenes’ golden apples, that it will bring attention to racial injustices by advocating for “truth,” “freedom” and “humanity.”</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/108821/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Derrick P. Alridge does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>The country’s ‘Black Mecca’ is hosting the Super Bowl. With the NFL’s national anthem controversy still lingering, this creates an undeniable paradox.Derrick P. Alridge, Professor of Education, University of VirginiaLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1027562018-09-10T10:36:32Z2018-09-10T10:36:32ZViolence against the media isn’t new – history shows why it largely disappeared and has now returned<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/235407/original/file-20180907-90571-h4ffen.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The Capital Gazette in Annapolis lost five staffers in a shooting</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">AP/Patrick Semansky</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Another news outlet has been attacked in the United States. </p>
<p>A man <a href="https://www.cnn.com/2018/09/05/us/dallas-news-kdfw-truck-crash/index.html">rammed his car repeatedly</a> into Fox affiliate KDFW in Dallas, Texas, on Sept. 5. We can now add this to the growing list of recent attacks on — and violent threats to — the media.</p>
<p>A man recently <a href="https://www.bostonglobe.com/metro/2018/08/30/california-man-arrested-charges-threatening-shoot-boston-globe-employees/EejiWXLNscUR8AxDB3y7RL/story.html">called The Boston Globe</a> and threatened “to shoot you [expletives] in the head … shoot every [expletive] one of you.” Apparently, the Globe’s defense of quality journalism infuriated him. </p>
<p>At CNN, anchors report <a href="https://www.cnn.com/videos/cnnmoney/2018/08/05/brian-stelter-journalists-receiving-death-threats-vpx.cnn">an uptick in death threats</a>. And, most tragically of all, there was <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2018/06/28/us/capital-gazette-annapolis-shooting.html">the shooting of five employees</a> in the office of the Capital Gazette in Annapolis, Maryland, on June 28.</p>
<p>Mental illness, isolation, easy access to weaponry, a renewed white supremacy movement and other variables clearly contribute to the increase in both violent rhetoric and actual violence. </p>
<p>But what these occurrences share, and what they’re illustrating, is a profound hatred towards purveyors of journalism. </p>
<p>This isn’t news. Violent acts against the media are as old as our nation. Perhaps Americans are just not accustomed to seeing the violence because most of them grew up in the second half of the 20th century, an era largely devoid of the partisan rancor that was once a hallmark of American journalism – and which seems to have returned. </p>
<h2>Ugly history</h2>
<p>As media historian <a href="https://media.illinois.edu/john-nerone">John Nerone</a> <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Violence-Against-Press-Policing-History/dp/0195086988">writes</a>, attacks on the media occur regularly throughout our history. </p>
<p><a href="http://www.anb.org/view/10.1093/anb/9780198606697.001.0001/anb-9780198606697-e-0100783">James Rivington</a>, an 18th-century loyalist printer in New York City, <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/1918851?seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents">barely escaped being tarred and feathered</a> by the Sons of Liberty, who ransacked his home. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/235410/original/file-20180907-90565-wd6y9v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/235410/original/file-20180907-90565-wd6y9v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=582&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235410/original/file-20180907-90565-wd6y9v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=582&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235410/original/file-20180907-90565-wd6y9v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=582&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235410/original/file-20180907-90565-wd6y9v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=731&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235410/original/file-20180907-90565-wd6y9v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=731&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235410/original/file-20180907-90565-wd6y9v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=731&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">New York newspaper publisher and loyalist James Rivington was hanged in effigy in 1775.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://earlyamericanists.com/2016/04/20/james-rivington-printer-loyalist-spy/">The Junto</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In the 19th century, attacks on the press were common. Violence and journalism were intertwined in American culture, largely because of the partisan politics most newspapers propagated. </p>
<p>Abolitionist and newspaper editor <a href="http://www.colby.edu/lovejoyaward/the-story-of-elijah-parish-lovejoy/">Elijah Lovejoy was murdered</a> in Alton, Illinois, in 1837. A pro-slavery mob broke into his jail cell – where he had been placed for his protection – and lynched him. One year earlier, in New York City, The New York Herald’s <a href="https://www.americanheritage.com/content/james-gordon-bennett-%E2%80%94-beneficent-rascal">James Gordon Bennett</a> <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=qHMVCgAAQBAJ&pg=PA15&dq=%22James+Watson+Webb,+caught+up+with+Bennett%22&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwist__CyafdAhWFmVkKHZd0Ay8Q6AEIJzAA#v=onepage&q=%22James%20Watson%20Webb%2C%20caught%20up%20with%20Bennett%22&f=false">was savagely beaten by his rival</a>, James Watson Webb. Webb edited New York City’s best-selling newspaper, The Morning Courier and New-York Enquirer, and he’d grown tired of Bennett’s attacks in his popular newspaper column. </p>
<p>When Ida B. Wells-Barnett published anti-lynching reports in Memphis in 1892, a white mob <a href="https://www.womenshistory.org/education-resources/biographies/ida-b-wells-barnett">destroyed her press and threatened to kill her</a>. </p>
<p>Lovejoy and Wells-Barnett are remembered because they would later be recognized as civil rights pioneers. But the violent confrontation between two of New York City’s most prominent newspaper editors is less well-known, in part, because it occurred at a time when violence against the press wasn’t uncommon.</p>
<p>In the early days of the Republic, U.S. newspapers were not only observably partisan, they were subsidized by political parties. Because newspapers around the U.S. often represented specific political parties, news reports would be politically framed and competing outlets – often serving the rival political party – would be demeaned. </p>
<p>Countless local editors, like Bennett, were attacked. Some, like Lovejoy, were killed for their work. These attacks on journalists were so common that Mark Twain, who worked as a journalist, lampooned them in his classic short story “<a href="https://americanliterature.com/author/mark-twain/short-story/journalism-in-tennessee">Journalism in Tennessee</a>.”</p>
<p>Twain’s satire about press violence tells the story of a young editor reporting to the office of The Morning Glory and Johnson County War-Whoop for his first day of work. When he turns in a brief roundup of local news reported by other outlets, his boss is surprised. </p>
<p>“Thunder and lightning!” he says. “Do you suppose my subscribers are going to stand such gruel as that? Give me the pen!” </p>
<p>The chief editor rewrites the piece, insulting and threatening the editors of the rival newspapers. Calling them scoundrels and liars, he excoriates them for “dissemination of falsehood, calumny, vituperation, and vulgarity.” </p>
<p>“Now that is the way to write,” his boss says upon completion of the piece. “Peppery and to the point. Mush-and-milk journalism gives me the fan-tods.”</p>
<h2>The ‘News From Nowhere’</h2>
<p>“Mush-and-milk journalism” that outraged Twain’s fictitious newspaper editor is inoffensive, neutral and seemingly objective. </p>
<p>It’s that kind of centrist journalism that developed in the 20th century – what journalist and political scientist Edward Jay Epstein called “<a href="https://books.google.com/books/about/News_from_nowhere_television_and_the_new.html?id=IyDuAAAAMAAJ">News From Nowhere</a>” — that many of us grew up on.</p>
<p>The evolution of technology, commercial imperatives and new modes of distribution combined to create American journalism’s era of objectivity. </p>
<p>Selling newspapers to millions in mass audiences, and transmitting identical reports to newspapers around the U.S. via the telegraph, both required neutering any clearly biased news reporting. </p>
<p>Regulatory mandates like the <a href="http://www.museum.tv/eotv/publicintere.htm">public interest standard</a> and the <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/ezra-klein/post/everything-you-need-to-know-about-the-fairness-doctrine-in-one-post/2011/08/23/gIQAN8CXZJ_blog.html?utm_term=.7526d6e95140">Fairness Doctrine</a> followed the development of radio and television. They further enshrined a “just-the-facts” sensibility in American journalism. </p>
<p>From our vantage point as historians in 2018, we can now see this era of objectivity lasted from about 1930 to 2000, beginning with the introduction of broadcast journalism via radio to the emergence of the multichannel cable television universe and the web’s development. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/235414/original/file-20180907-90571-tgazko.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/235414/original/file-20180907-90571-tgazko.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=493&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235414/original/file-20180907-90571-tgazko.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=493&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235414/original/file-20180907-90571-tgazko.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=493&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235414/original/file-20180907-90571-tgazko.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=620&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235414/original/file-20180907-90571-tgazko.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=620&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235414/original/file-20180907-90571-tgazko.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=620&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Walter Cronkite delivering the news on May, 24, 1978.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(AP/Richard Drew</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In those decades, journalism became less partisan to be more palatable to mass audiences. Every weeknight, CBS broadcast journalist <a href="http://www.anb.org/view/10.1093/anb/9780198606697.001.0001/anb-9780198606697-e-1603550;jsessionid=1DDDB49E4C139A4DFC2423D5FBEFECC4?from=..%2F18%2F18-03570.html&from_nm=Sinatra%2C+Frank">Walter Cronkite</a> soberly told Americans what they needed to know about the events of the day. </p>
<p>And, in this original network era, opinion was separated from reporting and clearly labeled – whether it was on-air commentaries delivered by <a href="http://www.museum.tv/eotv/sevareideri.htm">Eric Sevareid</a> or on specially designated “editorial” or “opinion” pages in newspapers.</p>
<p>Such segregation of reporting and opinion was not the norm in American journalism history. It was a new idea that quickly gained traction because it proved so commercially advantageous. </p>
<p>Creating audiences in the millions, and then the tens of millions – on television – <a href="http://www.hup.harvard.edu/catalog.php?isbn=9780674695870">generated unimagined sums</a> of advertising revenue. Removing opinions from most reporting produced enormous profits for television networks, radio stations and daily newspapers. It became commonplace. Americans grew accustomed to it.</p>
<h2>Back to the old ways</h2>
<p>It appears the cycle has now turned. </p>
<p>Outlets like Fox News, MSNBC, and even some daily newspapers, are no longer as careful about monitoring the injection of subjectivity into journalism. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/235415/original/file-20180907-90568-6awxku.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/235415/original/file-20180907-90568-6awxku.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=421&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235415/original/file-20180907-90568-6awxku.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=421&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235415/original/file-20180907-90568-6awxku.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=421&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235415/original/file-20180907-90568-6awxku.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=529&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235415/original/file-20180907-90568-6awxku.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=529&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235415/original/file-20180907-90568-6awxku.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=529&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Partisan cable news hosts Rachel Maddow, a progressive and conservative Sean Hannity, right.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">AP photo</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>But they are not entirely to blame. Today’s audiences feel empowered by their autonomy, because they have an enormous number of available and competing media outlets. They can now watch and consume news that best matches their worldview, rather than an homogenized news product designed to be palatable to the masses. </p>
<p>Noting the higher ratings and subscription numbers that accompany this increasing partisanship, <a href="https://www.aeaweb.org/articles?id=10.1257/aer.20160812">news outlets react accordingly</a>. Even more, social media technologies allow audiences to engage with news media like never before, often cultivating a climate of uncivil online discourse. This only intensifies the partisan rancor mirroring 19th-century levels. </p>
<p>Does the end of the depoliticized mass audience era of journalism directly correlate to what seems to be a return of violence against the media? </p>
<p>Until the four journalists were killed in Annapolis early this year (the fifth staffer was not a journalist), <a href="https://cpj.org/data/killed/?status=Killed&motiveConfirmed%5B%5D=Confirmed&type%5B%5D=Journalist&cc_fips%5B%5D=US&start_year=1992&end_year=2018&group_by=year">only seven had been killed</a> in the last 26 years. </p>
<p>When consumers of MSNBC are baffled by the apparent ignorance of Fox News viewers, and Fox News viewers are sure MSNBC’s fans are dupes, we’ve returned to the world Twain described.</p>
<p>It might be impossible to return to the more civil, professional and respectful era of journalism that many Americans grew up in. But we can, and should, recognize the historic futility of killing the messenger.</p>
<p>Destroying Ida B. Wells-Barnett’s press did nothing to stop the anti-lynching movement, and the murder of Elijah Lovejoy spread the abolitionist message much further than Lovejoy himself ever could.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/102756/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Violence against journalists is on the rise. Many people don’t realize that such acts have a long tradition in the US, where partisan rancor was once a hallmark of American journalism.Jennifer E. Moore, Assistant Professor, Department of Communication, University of Minnesota DuluthMichael J. Socolow, Associate Professor, Communication and Journalism, University of MaineLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/950292018-04-24T10:51:04Z2018-04-24T10:51:04ZLynching memorial shows women were victims, too<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/216029/original/file-20180423-94149-1bh28jy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">National Memorial for Peace and Justice.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">AP Photo/Brynn Anderson</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>A memorial to victims of lynching in the U.S. is now open in <a href="http://digital.archives.alabama.gov/cdm/ref/collection/voices/id/2516">Alabama</a>.</p>
<p>The <a href="https://eji.org/national-lynching-memorial">National Memorial for Peace and Justice</a> is a six-acre site that overlooks Montgomery, the state capital. It uses sculpture, art and design to give visitors a sense of the terror of lynching as they walk through a memorial square with 800 six-foot steel columns that symbolize the victims. The names of thousands of victims are engraved on columns – one for each county in the United States where a lynching took place. In Alabama alone, a reported total of 275 lynchings took place between 1871 and 1920.</p>
<p>U.S. history books and documentaries that tell the story of lynching in the U.S. have focused on black male victims, to the exclusion of women. But women, too, were lynched – and many raped beforehand. In my book “<a href="https://www.palgrave.com/us/book/9780230112704">Gender and Lynching</a>,” I sought to tell the stories of these women and why they have been left out. </p>
<p>Between 1880 and 1930, close to 200 women were murdered by lynch mobs in the American South, according to historian <a href="http://www.hup.harvard.edu/catalog.php?isbn=9780674061859">Crystal Feimster</a>.</p>
<p>Will this new memorial give these murdered women their due in how the U.S. remembers and feels about our troubling history? </p>
<h2>Enforcing white supremacy through terror</h2>
<p>In a recent report, <a href="https://eji.org/reports/lynching-in-america">Lynching in America</a>, researchers documented 4,075 lynchings of African-Americans that were committed by southern whites in Alabama, Arkansas, Florida, Georgia, Kentucky, Louisiana, Mississippi, North Carolina, South Carolina, Tennessee, Texas and Virginia between 1877 and 1950.</p>
<p>Lynching differed from ordinary murder or assault. It was celebrated by members of the Ku Klux Klan as a spectacular event and drew large crowds of people who tortured victims, burned them alive and dismembered them. Lynching was a form of <a href="https://lynchinginamerica.eji.org/report/">domestic terrorism</a> that inflicted harm onto individuals and upon an entire race of people, with the purpose of instilling fear. It served to give dramatic warning that the ironclad system of white supremacy was not to be challenged by word, deed or even thought. </p>
<p>The conventional approach to teaching the history of Jim Crow and lynching has focused almost exclusively on the black male victim. However, such an approach often simplifies and distorts a much more complex history. </p>
<p>Not all victims were African-American men, and although allegations of African-American men raping white women were common, such allegations were not the leading motive for the lynchings. We know from the pioneering work of anti-lynching crusader <a href="https://www.nwhm.org/education-resources/biographies/ida-b-wells-barnett">Ida B. Wells-Barnett</a> that African-American men, women and children were lynched for a range of alleged crimes and social infractions. </p>
<p>The book “<a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/102257/trouble-in-mind-by-leon-f-litwack/9780375702631/">Trouble in Mind</a>,” by Pulitzer Prize-winning historian Leon Litwack, provides a detailed account of the many accusations of petty theft, labor disputes, arson and murder that led to these lynchings.</p>
<p>This fact requires a richer, more nuanced understanding of discrimination that is critical of racism and sexism at the same time. Martyrs such as Laura Nelson and Mary Turner experienced racial and sexual violence at the hands of vigilante lynch mobs because of their race and gender.</p>
<h2>Laura Nelson and Mary Turner</h2>
<p>In May 1911, Laura Nelson was lynched in Okemah, Oklahoma. </p>
<p>Nelson allegedly shot a sheriff to protect her son. The officer had been searching her cabin for stolen goods as part of a meat-pilfering investigation. A mob seized Nelson along with her son, who was only 14 years old, and lynched them both. However, Nelson was first raped by several men. The bodies of Laura and her son were hung from a bridge for hundreds of people to see.</p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/216014/original/file-20180423-94115-1b421wq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/216014/original/file-20180423-94115-1b421wq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/216014/original/file-20180423-94115-1b421wq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=854&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/216014/original/file-20180423-94115-1b421wq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=854&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/216014/original/file-20180423-94115-1b421wq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=854&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/216014/original/file-20180423-94115-1b421wq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1074&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/216014/original/file-20180423-94115-1b421wq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1074&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/216014/original/file-20180423-94115-1b421wq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1074&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Laura Nelson.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Laura_Nelson_high_res.jpg">G.H. Farnum</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The violent murder of African-Americans was so accepted at the time that a postcard was made of Nelson’s lynching by George Henry Farnum, a photographer. Brooklyn-based artist <a href="http://site.kimmayhorn.com/">Kim Mayhorn</a> created in 1998 a multimedia installation that memorialized Nelson’s death. There’s an empty dress in Mayhorn’s installation that resembles the postcard of her lynching. The disembodied dress represents the void in the historical record and Mayhorn’s effort to redress the absence of Nelson. </p>
<p>The title of Mayhorn’s installation, “A Woman Was Lynched the Other Day,” refers to <a href="https://www.loc.gov/exhibits/odyssey/archive/06/0610002r.jpg">a banner</a> the New York NAACP would unfurl from their Fifth Avenue office when news of another lynching surfaced. With white letters inscribed on a black background, it declared “A MAN WAS LYNCHED YESTERDAY” and became a rallying cry for justice. </p>
<p>Seven years later, in May 1918, <a href="http://www.maryturner.org/">Mary Turner</a> was eight months pregnant when a mob of several hundred men and women murdered her in Valdosta, Georgia. The Associated Press reported that she had made “unwise remarks” and “flew into a rage” about the lynching of her husband, insisting that she would press charges against the men responsible. </p>
<p>Her death has since been recognized by local residents, students and faculty at <a href="https://www.valdosta.edu/about/news/releases/2018/02/vsu-presents-mary-turner-and-the-lynching-rampage-art-exhibit-feb.-15-march-31.php">Valdosta State University</a>, first with a public ceremony that placed a cross at the lynching site and second with a historical <a href="http://www.valdostadailytimes.com/news/local_news/remembering-a-dark-page-of-history/article_9ed9cbab-3059-520d-a7b0-e20af458556a.html">marker in 2010</a>.</p>
<p>Nelson and Turner have often been depicted as tragic characters or “collateral victims” who supported and defended the males in their lives. </p>
<p>Such deaths, however, were not incidental. They were essential to maintain white supremacy, as a form of punishment for defying the social order.</p>
<p>Though women represent a minority of lynching victims, their stories challenge previous attempts to justify lynching as necessary to protect white women from black male rapists. </p>
<p>Understanding lynching and the motives behind it requires including the stories of African-American women who were robbed of dignity, respect and bodily integrity by a weapon of terror. The violence against them was used to maintain a caste system that assigned inferior roles to African-American women and men alike. </p>
<h2>Redefining the ‘civil rights movement’</h2>
<p>By including women in the historical narrative of lynching, the new memorial in Alabama reveals a more complete understanding of this devastating social practice. This memorial brings African-American women like Nelson and Turner to the fore as victims, and the weight of visual evidence on display at the memorial challenges the silence surrounding their deaths. </p>
<p>The <a href="https://eji.org/">Equal Justice Initiative</a> assists scholars, teachers and ordinary people in recognizing the roots of the civil rights movement that began long before the years 1954-68.</p>
<p>The monument sheds light in an unprecedented and innovative way on the reasons and circumstances surrounding the death and torture of countless victims, including women and children, who suffered at the hands of vigilante mobs. By unearthing the soil and pinpointing the counties where such cruel and inhumane acts were committed, the monument sends a powerful message and conveys to its audience a desire for deeper understanding.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/95029/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Evelyn M. Simien does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Although fewer black women were lynched in the US than men, their stories have been marginalized. Will a new memorial in Alabama help make their sacrifices known?Evelyn M. Simien, Professor of Political Science and Africana Studies, University of ConnecticutLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/907232018-02-09T12:43:58Z2018-02-09T12:43:58ZTo fully appreciate black history, the US must let go of lingering Confederate nostalgia<p><em>Editor’s note: This article first appeared on Feb. 9, 2018.</em></p>
<p>As a nation, the U.S. is debating the <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2017/08/16/us/confederate-monuments-removed.html">meaning of Confederate symbolism</a> and history. </p>
<p>That debate is closely tied to how the U.S. commemorates, or fails to commemorate, the full spectrum of African-American history. </p>
<p>In <a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/commonplace-witnessing-9780190611088?cc=us&lang=en&">my research</a> I explore why people choose to remember some parts of the past and not others. I have also studied how communities choose to <a href="http://www.psupress.org/books/titles/978-0-271-03665-6.html">forget portions of the past</a> in order to overcome longstanding conflicts. </p>
<p>Based on this work, I would argue that nostalgic versions of Confederate history inhibit our ability to memorialize African-American historical experiences and achievements as centerpieces of U.S. history.</p>
<h2>Forgetting and forging ahead</h2>
<p>A commitment to starting over and creating a new future is a deep-seated part of the U.S. experience. Thomas Paine published “<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/147/147-h/147-h.htm">Common Sense</a>” in January 1776, as American colonists debated whether to declare independence from Great Britain. He proclaimed that a “new era of politics” and “a new method of thinking” had begun. </p>
<p>“Common Sense” urged colonists to forget monarchical history and culture so that they could embrace a radically new historical narrative. The doctrine of American exceptionalism that Paine helped to create – the belief that the U.S. is not only different, but exceptional – depends upon <a href="https://muse.jhu.edu/article/29850">an ideal of renewal</a>. It suggests that Americans are joined together in the constant creation of a new history and a new politics.</p>
<p>Paine’s rhetoric argues that forgetting old customs and conflicts does not necessarily mean destroying the past. In fact, the <a href="https://www.etymonline.com/word/forget">verb “forget”</a> descends from an Old Germanic construction that suggests losing one’s hold on something. Basic English definitions <a href="https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/forget">of the term</a> – “to treat with inattention or disregard” or “disregard intentionally” – describe a voluntary decision to no longer grasp something, not destroy it.</p>
<p>People today don’t literally remember the Civil War. Neither can they literally forget it. The terms “remember” and “forget” are metaphorical descriptions of different attitudes toward history.</p>
<p>As I’ve shown in my research, sometimes <a href="http://www.psupress.org/books/titles/978-0-271-03665-6.html">communities decide</a> that previously beloved narratives of the past have become divisive and deserve to be set aside. People often attempt to resolve conflicts rooted in history by adopting an attitude of forgetting. For example, Athenians in the fourth century B.C. restored democracy after a civil war with an act of <a href="http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/view/10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199672769.001.0001/acprof-9780199672769">political forgiveness</a>. Warring parties brokered peace by swearing “not to recall wrong.” More recently, former Soviet states have <a href="https://theconversation.com/what-to-do-with-confederate-statues-81736">removed monuments of communist leaders</a> since the fall of the Soviet Union. </p>
<p>Asking Confederate advocates to forget in the name of a greater good does not mean asking them to erase the past. It means inviting them to the work of truth and reconciliation, and foregoing <a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/ghosts-of-the-confederacy-9780195054200?cc=us&lang=en&">the Lost Cause</a> – a historical mythology that insists the Confederate cause was noble and heroic. Confederate memorials symbolize <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/posteverything/wp/2017/08/16/the-whole-point-of-confederate-monuments-is-to-celebrate-white-supremacy/?utm_term=.b7c61711f101">a form of white supremacy</a> that sought to violently erase the heritage of kidnapped and enslaved Africans and their descendants. They honor efforts to destroy the history of millions, while celebrating a wildly distorted version of the Confederate past. </p>
<p>Forgetting that distorted vision of history would not erase an authentic past. It might create opportunities for understanding post-Civil War history in more honest and equitable ways.</p>
<h2>Truth and reconciliation</h2>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205605/original/file-20180208-180813-84e9ui.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205605/original/file-20180208-180813-84e9ui.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205605/original/file-20180208-180813-84e9ui.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=426&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205605/original/file-20180208-180813-84e9ui.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=426&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205605/original/file-20180208-180813-84e9ui.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=426&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205605/original/file-20180208-180813-84e9ui.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=536&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205605/original/file-20180208-180813-84e9ui.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=536&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205605/original/file-20180208-180813-84e9ui.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=536&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Unveiling of a slave trade historical marker in Montgomery, Alabama, in 2013.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">AP Photo/Dave Martin</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Confederate nostalgia works against the American ethic of renewal and the desperately needed work of truth and reconciliation. Such work, as in <a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/181253/no-future-without-forgiveness-by-desmond-tutu/9780385496902/">post-apartheid South Africa</a>, includes collective agreements to remember the past differently, resolve historical conflicts, and imagine a new future. Even Stonewall Jackson’s grandsons <a href="http://www.slate.com/articles/news_and_politics/politics/2017/08/stonewall_jackson_s_grandsons_the_monuments_must_go.html">support proposals</a> to remove a statue of their grandfather in Richmond, Virginia, for this purpose. They advocate for a “larger project of actively mending the racial disparities that hundreds of years of white supremacy have wrought.”</p>
<p>Communities can pursue this objective not only by removing monuments. They can also remove barriers to understanding history in more honest and equitable ways.</p>
<p>Select figures from the aftermath of the Civil War can help us to imagine what letting go or forgetting the past would look like. For example, in his <a href="https://www.loc.gov/rr/program/bib/ourdocs/Lincoln2nd.html">second inaugural address</a>, President Abraham Lincoln implored Union and Confederate states to reconcile, “with malice toward none, with charity for all.” In December 1866, Robert E. Lee himself expressed a similar sentiment. <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=ghITAAAAYAAJ&pg=PA257&lpg=PA257&dq=As+regards+the+erection+of+such+a+monument+as+is+contemplated,+my+conviction+is,+that+however+grateful+it+would+be+to+the+feelings+of+the+South,+the+attempt+in+the+present+condition+of+the+country+would+have+the+effect+of+retarding,+instead+of+accelerating+its+accomplishment&source=bl&ots=qVQzjsige1&sig=mhvMNPp7fmwKOdE6lYqINFvBm5A&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjHzc23mqDNAhXPix4KHTb1DpwQ6AEIHjAA#v=onepage&q=As%20regards%20the%20erection%20of%20such%20a%20monument%20as%20is%20contemplated%2C%20my%20conviction%20is%2C%20that%20however%20grateful%20it%20would%20be%20to%20the%20feelings%20of%20the%20South%2C%20the%20attempt%20in%20the%20present%20condition%20of%20the%20country%20would%20have%20the%20effect%20of%20retarding%2C%20instead%20of%20accelerating%20its%20accomplishment&f=false">He argued</a> that erecting Confederate memorials “would have the effect of retarding instead of accelerating” post-war recovery.</p>
<p>Ironically, the prevalence of Confederate remembrance today suggests that many Americans have forgotten Lincoln’s and Lee’s pleas to consciously forget past disputes.</p>
<h2>Vastly unequal memories</h2>
<p>Historical narratives rooted in Confederate nostalgia exert undue influence over Americans’ perceptions of national history. Distorted memories of Confederate history – depictions of <a href="http://teachingamericanhistory.org/library/document/slavery-a-positive-good/">benevolent slave masters and loyal slaves</a> – hinder serious efforts to confront the brutal legacies of white supremacy. </p>
<p>As a result, it impedes efforts to memorialize the full scope of African-American resilience in the face of persistent brutalities. Robert E. Lee, Jefferson Davis and Stonewall Jackson are household historical names, with their likenesses preserved in numerous monuments. Not so for black Americans like Benjamin Banneker, David Walker, Sojourner Truth, Ida B. Wells, Booker T. Washington and countless others.</p>
<p>Myriad streets and public buildings are named after Confederate leaders. While no comprehensive catalog exists, <a href="http://www.slate.com/articles/news_and_politics/history/2015/07/civil_war_historical_markers_a_map_of_confederate_monuments_and_union_ones.html">some databases</a> estimate Confederacy markers number in at least the thousands.</p>
<p>Of course, efforts to commemorate African-American history also exist. They include the <a href="https://nmaahc.si.edu/">National Museum of African American History and Culture</a> in Washington, D.C. and the <a href="https://eji.org/national-lynching-memorial">National Memorial for Peace and Justice</a> in Montgomery, Alabama. But those efforts are historically delayed and dramatically overshadowed.</p>
<p>These disparities indicate how reverence for the mythic Confederate past hinders the nation from seeking a new kind of future. Pursuing the difficult work of truth and reconciliation is impossible without letting go of the Lost Cause.</p>
<p>That work would involve sober discussions about how Confederate monuments, and the attitudes toward history that they illustrate, represent <a href="https://washingtonpost.com/posteverything/wp/2015/07/01/why-do-people-believe-myths-about-the-confederacy-because-our-textbooks-and-monuments-are-wrong/">distortions of American history</a> rather than praiseworthy representations of it. It would also require finding new ways to prioritize <a href="https://www.splcenter.org/news/2018/01/31/splc-report-us-education-american-slavery-sorely-lacking">the teaching</a> and commemoration of African-American history.</p>
<p>Local governments have removed statues of Confederate generals <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2017/08/16/us/baltimore-confederate-statues.html">in the dark of night</a>. Will we also labor together, in the light of day, to discover more honest and equitable ways of understanding our history anew?</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/90723/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Bradford Vivian does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>The US has yet to fully undergo a process of truth and reconciliation.Bradford Vivian, Professor of Communication Arts and Sciences and Director of the Center for Democratic Deliberation, Penn StateLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/878902017-12-05T12:06:03Z2017-12-05T12:06:03ZNigeria set to pass a law against mob lynching. Will it make a difference?<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/197149/original/file-20171130-30912-1oofw4z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Nigerians don't trust the police and often resort to mob justice. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Reuters/Afolabi Sotunde</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>“Ole, ole!” (thief, thief!) is all that needs to be shouted in Nigeria before large crowds gather to beat, and often burn, the accused to death. Although there are no official statistics on the prevalence of mob lynching in Nigeria – referred to as jungle justice – media reports suggest it’s a regular occurrence. A 2014 <a href="http://www.noi-polls.com/root/index.php?pid=293&ptid=1&parentid=66">survey </a>revealed that 43% of Nigerians had personally witnessed a lynch mob attack.</p>
<p>Despite <a href="https://theconversation.com/vigilantism-is-flourishing-in-nigeria-with-official-support-86867">some Nigerian vigilante groups</a> holding the potential for success, execution style jungle justice clearly poses a threat to the rule of law and due process. The brutality of the methods used, and the fact that victims may be innocent and merely in the wrong place at the wrong time, has led to <a href="https://www.vanguardngr.com/2016/12/jungle-justice-disregard-rule-law/">widespread condemnation</a>. But the perpetrators are rarely arrested and prosecuted. In fact, security officials themselves are sometimes implicated in <a href="https://www.vanguardngr.com/2017/08/nigeria-recorded-40-extra-judicial-killings-2016-rights-group/">extrajudicial killings</a>.</p>
<p>A new bill being put through the Nigerian parliament aims to change this. The anti-mob lynching act recently <a href="http://www.nassnig.org/document/download/9065">passed its second reading in the Senate</a>. It now needs to clear a third reading before being signed off and passed into law. This is expected to happen in the new year.</p>
<h2>The extent of jungle justice</h2>
<p>Alleged offences that draw mob lynching in Nigeria range from serious crimes such as murder, armed robbery, rape and kidnapping, to petty theft, homosexuality, blasphemy and even witchcraft. </p>
<p>A case that shocked the country involved the necklacing of four male students from the University of Port Harcourt - known as the <a href="http://edition.cnn.com/2012/11/26/world/africa/nigeria-mob-justice-duthiers/index.html">Aluu four</a> - in 2012. After being falsely accused of theft, the four had tyres doused in gasoline thrown around them and set on fire. The incident took place in Aluu, Rivers State in south Nigeria. </p>
<p>The brutal attack was filmed and circulated on social media, drawing widespread condemnation from the public. This led to the arrest of 12 people, and three, including a police officer, were subsequently <a href="https://www.vanguardngr.com/2017/07/aluu-four-police-sergeant-2-others-sentenced-death/">sentenced to death</a>.</p>
<p>More recently, in 2016, a homosexual was <a href="https://www.nigerianbulletin.com/threads/7-most-gruesome-jungle-justice-cases-in-2016-photos.226510/">beaten to death</a> in the south west Ondo State, and nine people were <a href="https://www.nigerianbulletin.com/threads/7-most-gruesome-jungle-justice-cases-in-2016-photos.226510/">burnt alive</a> in Zamfara State in the north west for insulting Prophet Muhammad. A man was <a href="http://dailypost.ng/2016/11/08/man-lynched-stealing-motorcycle-ebonyi/">lynched in Ebonyi State</a>, south east Nigeria, over the theft of a motorcycle.</p>
<p>Mob lynchings have continued to appear in the news this year. Lagos has been featured regularly, with <a href="https://www.economist.com/news/middle-east-and-africa/21712099-why-criminals-prefer-cops-mob-suspects-are-beaten-and-burned-jungle">several incidents</a> linked to alleged theft and kidnapping. Widespread fear over the Badoo cult saw numerous accusations of witchcraft <a href="https://guardian.ng/news/ikorodu-residents-on-edge-over-attack-by-badoo-gang/">resulting in deadly jungle justice</a>.</p>
<p>Children are not excluded from the horrors of mob lynching. In 2015, a child said to be <a href="https://www.vanguardngr.com/2016/11/lynching-7-yr-old-boy-residents-fume-want-perpetrators-brought-book/">as young as 7 </a> was necklaced, again in Lagos, for attempting to steal garri (cassava flour) from a trader. Young children <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ooXBMU_06vg">accused of witchcraft</a> are also often targeted, sometimes by their own families.</p>
<p>This is not a complete list; Nigerians often resort to mob lynching as they view the police and judicial system as <a href="http://www.noi-polls.com/root/index.php?pid=293&ptid=1&parentid=66">corrupt and inefficient</a>.</p>
<h2>So what does the new bill aim to do?</h2>
<p>The nature of mob violence can make it difficult to charge offenders under the laws that cover murder and assault. The <a href="http://www.placbillstrack.org/upload/SB109.pdf">new bill</a> seeks to change that. It defines lynching as:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Three or more persons acting in concert for the purpose of depriving any person of his life without authority of law as a punishment for or to prevent the commission of some actual or supposed public offence. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>Alongside lynching, the bill covers mob action that results in severe bodily harm, and riotous assembly causing destruction of property. A person found guilty of instigating any of these three criminal offences will be punished by imprisonment for life or not less than 25 years. </p>
<p>The bill stipulates that a security officer who fails to make reasonable efforts to prevent an attack, or to apprehend a perpetrator, will be punished by up to five years imprisonment or face a fine of up to N500,000 (USD$1400). A security officer who takes part in, or conspires to an extrajudicial attack, would be guilty of a capital offence. Those who have failed at prevention would be subject to dismissal and 15 years imprisonment.</p>
<p>These punishments could act as an excellent deterrent. However, the success of the bill will depend on police and judicial implementation. A legal system unable to deal with crime resulting in jungle justice may be unable or unwilling to prosecute the latter. </p>
<p>Nevertheless, the emphasis on security officer complicity is promising, and formal recognition will allow tracking and prevention.</p>
<h2>A global problem</h2>
<p>Mob lynching is not unique to Nigeria, nor to Africa. Nigeria is also not the first country to try and pass an anti-lynching bill. </p>
<p>Up until the mid-1900’s, <a href="https://lynchinginamerica.eji.org/">African-Americans</a> were commonly lynched in southern USA. Attempts were made to pass the <a href="http://www.naacp.org/oldest-and-boldest/naacp-history-anti-lynching-bill/">Dyer Anti-Lynching Bill</a>, but it was always halted by Southern congressmen in the Senate. In 2005, the Senate <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2005/06/14/politics/senate-issues-apology-over-failure-on-lynching-law.html">formally apologised</a> for this failure.</p>
<p>More recently, after a <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2017/04/27/india-cow-protection-spurs-vigilante-violence">spate of vigilantism</a> in India, the country has pushed for an a new <a href="http://stopmoblynching.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/Masuka-05072017-PK.pdf">Protection from Lynching Act</a>, referred to as MaSuKa. This would make lynching a specific, non-bailable offence, punishable by a maximum of life imprisonment and a fine of 5 lakh (USD$7770).</p>
<p>The MaSuKa also compels security officers to preemptively identify attacks and to intervene without delay. Failure to do so would result in discharge and punishment for dereliction of duty. When a lynching does happen, a charge must be laid within three months or a review committee will investigate, and the respective state must compensate the victim’s family.</p>
<p>Although the proposed new law has support from 11 of India’s political parties, the ruling <a href="http://www.aljazeera.com/indepth/opinion/2017/07/india-epidemic-mob-lynching-170706113733914.html">Bharatiya Janata Party has complicated its passing</a> in parliament.</p>
<p>Conversely, there is little doubt that Nigeria’s anti-mob lynching bill will be passed. With police and judicial support, it could provide an important precedent for countries struggling with mob lynching and official indifference.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/87890/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Nigeria is on the verge of passing a law to criminalise rampant mob lynching. Other countries have tried to do this and failed.Leighann Spencer, PhD Candidate in Criminology, Charles Sturt UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/814272017-07-26T01:55:29Z2017-07-26T01:55:29Z100 years ago African-Americans marched down 5th Avenue to declare that black lives matter<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/179312/original/file-20170722-28515-16wxxmn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Silent protest parade in New York against the East St. Louis riots, 1917.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/95517074/">Library of Congress</a></span></figcaption></figure><p><em>Editor’s Note: This article was published on July 25, 2017.</em></p>
<p>The only sounds were those of muffled drums, the shuffling of feet and the gentle sobs of some of the estimated 20,000 onlookers. The women and children wore all white. The men dressed in black. </p>
<p>On the afternoon of Saturday, July 28, 1917, nearly 10,000 African-Americans marched down Fifth Avenue, in silence, to protest racial violence and white supremacy in the United States.</p>
<p>New York City, and the nation, had never before witnessed such a remarkable scene. </p>
<p>The “Silent Protest Parade,” as it came to be known, was the first mass African-American demonstration of its kind and marked a watershed moment in the history of the civil rights movement. As I have written in my book <a href="https://www.uncpress.org/book/9781469609850/torchbearers-of-democracy/">“Torchbearers of Democracy</a>,” African-Americans during the World War I era challenged racism both abroad and at home. In taking to the streets to dramatize the brutal treatment of black people, the participants of the “Silent Protest Parade” indicted the United States as an unjust nation. </p>
<p>This charge remains true today.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/179691/original/file-20170725-2133-1td69y0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/179691/original/file-20170725-2133-1td69y0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/179691/original/file-20170725-2133-1td69y0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=390&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179691/original/file-20170725-2133-1td69y0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=390&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179691/original/file-20170725-2133-1td69y0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=390&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179691/original/file-20170725-2133-1td69y0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=490&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179691/original/file-20170725-2133-1td69y0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=490&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179691/original/file-20170725-2133-1td69y0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=490&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Several thousand people attended a Seattle rally to call attention to minority rights and police brutality in April 2017.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">AP Photo/Ted S. Warren</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>One hundred years later, as black people continue to insist that “Black Lives Matter,” the “Silent Protest Parade” offers a vivid reminder about the power of courageous leadership, grassroots mobilization, direct action and their collective necessity in the fight to end racial oppression in our current troubled times. </p>
<h2>Racial violence and the East St. Louis Riot</h2>
<p>One of the great accomplishments of the Black Lives Matter movement has been to demonstrate the continuum of racist violence against black people throughout American history and also the history of <a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/the-making-of-black-lives-matter-9780190601348?cc=us&lang=en&">resistance against it</a>. But as we continue to grapple with the <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2017/06/20/us/police-shooting-castile-trial-video.html?_r=0">hyper-visibility of black death</a>, it is perhaps easy to forget just how truly horrific racial violence against black people was a century ago. </p>
<p>Prior to the “Silent Protest Parade,” <a href="https://archive.org/details/thirtyyearsoflyn00nati">mob violence and the lynching</a> of African-Americans had grown even more gruesome. In Waco, a mob of 10,000 white Texans attended the May 15, 1916, lynching of a black farmer, <a href="http://www.tamupress.com/product/First-Waco-Horror,1483.aspx">Jesse Washington</a>. One year later, on May 22, 1917, a black woodcutter, <a href="https://www.memphisflyer.com/memphis/memphis-burning/Content?oid=4438125">Ell Persons</a>, died at the hands of over 5,000 vengeance-seeking whites in Memphis. Both men were burned and mutilated, their charred body parts distributed and displayed as souvenirs.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/a-short-history-of-black-women-and-police-violence-139937">A short history of black women and police violence</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Even by these grisly standards, <a href="http://www.press.uillinois.edu/books/catalog/57mbk5qp9780252009518.html">East St. Louis</a> later that same summer was shocking. Simmering labor tensions between white and black workers exploded on the evening of July 2, 1917.</p>
<p>For 24 hours, white mobs indiscriminately stabbed, shot and lynched anyone with black skin. Men, women, children, the elderly, the disabled – no one was spared. Homes were torched and occupants shot down as they attempted to flee. White militia men stood idly by as the carnage unfolded. Some actively participated. The death toll likely ran as high as 200 people.</p>
<p>The city’s surviving 6,000 black residents became refugees. </p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/179539/original/file-20170724-11166-omtn8e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/179539/original/file-20170724-11166-omtn8e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/179539/original/file-20170724-11166-omtn8e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=747&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179539/original/file-20170724-11166-omtn8e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=747&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179539/original/file-20170724-11166-omtn8e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=747&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179539/original/file-20170724-11166-omtn8e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=939&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179539/original/file-20170724-11166-omtn8e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=939&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179539/original/file-20170724-11166-omtn8e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=939&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Ida B. Wells.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/93505758/">Library of Congress</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>East St. Louis was an <a href="http://www.ohioswallow.com/book/American+Pogrom">American pogrom</a>. The fearless African-American anti-lynching activist <a href="https://www.harpercollins.com/9780061972942">Ida B. Wells</a> traveled to the still smoldering city on July 4 and <a href="http://gildedage.lib.niu.edu/islandora/object/niu-gildedage%3A24051">collected firsthand accounts</a> of the aftermath. She described what she saw as an “awful orgy of human butchery.” </p>
<p>The devastation of East St. Louis was compounded by the fact that America was at war. <a href="https://wwi.lib.byu.edu/index.php/Wilson's_War_Message_to_Congress">On April 2</a>, President Woodrow Wilson had thrown the United States into the maelstrom of World War I. He did so by asserting <a href="https://theconversation.com/1917-woodrow-wilsons-call-to-war-pulled-america-onto-a-global-stage-75022">America’s singularly unique place on the global stage</a> and his goal to make the world “safe for democracy.” In the eyes of black people, East St. Louis exposed the hypocrisy of Wilson’s vision and America itself. </p>
<h2>The NAACP takes action</h2>
<p>The <a href="http://www.naacp.org/">National Association for the Advancement of Colored People</a> quickly responded to the massacre. Founded in 1909, the NAACP had yet to establish itself as a truly representative <a href="http://thenewpress.com/books/lift-every-voice">organization for African-Americans across the country</a>. With the exception of <a href="https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781466841512">W.E.B. Du Bois</a>, one of the NAACP’s co-founders and editor of The Crisis magazine, the national leadership was all white. Branches were overwhelmingly located in the North, despite the majority of African-Americans residing below the Mason-Dixon line. As a result, the NAACP had largely failed to respond with a sense of urgency to the everyday horrors endured by the masses of black folk. </p>
<figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/179628/original/file-20170725-31338-oegjci.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/179628/original/file-20170725-31338-oegjci.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=777&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179628/original/file-20170725-31338-oegjci.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=777&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179628/original/file-20170725-31338-oegjci.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=777&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179628/original/file-20170725-31338-oegjci.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=976&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179628/original/file-20170725-31338-oegjci.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=976&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179628/original/file-20170725-31338-oegjci.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=976&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">James Weldon Johnson.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:James_Weldon_Johnson.jpg">Twentieth Century Negro Literature</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p><a href="http://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/321968/along-this-way-by-james-weldon-johnson/9780143105176/">James Weldon Johnson</a> changed things. Lawyer, diplomat, novelist, poet and songwriter, Johnson was a true African-American renaissance man. In 1916, Johnson joined the NAACP as a field secretary and made an immediate impact. In addition to growing the organization’s southern membership, Johnson recognized the importance of expanding the influence of the NAACP’s existing branches beyond the black elite.</p>
<p>Johnson raised the idea of a silent protest march at an executive committee meeting of the NAACP Harlem branch shortly after the East St. Louis riot. Johnson also insisted that the protest include the city’s entire black community. Planning quickly got underway, spearheaded by Johnson and local black clergymen. </p>
<h2>A historic day</h2>
<p>By noon on July 28, several thousand African-Americans had begun to assemble at 59th Street. Crowds gathered along Fifth Avenue. Anxious New York City police officers lined the streets, aware of what was about to take place but, with clubs at the ready, prepared for trouble.</p>
<p>At approximately 1 p.m., the protest parade commenced. Four men carrying drums began to slowly, solemnly play. A group of black clergymen and NAACP officials made up the front line. W.E.B. Du Bois, who had recently returned from conducting an <a href="http://library.brown.edu/pdfs/1292426769648500.pdf">NAACP investigation in East St. Louis</a>, and James Weldon Johnson marched side by side. </p>
<p>The parade was a stunning spectacle. At the front, women and children wearing all-white gowns symbolized the innocence of African-Americans in the face of the nation’s guilt. The men, bringing up the rear and dressed in dark suits, conveyed both a mournful dignity and stern determination to stand up for their rights as citizens.</p>
<p>They carried signs and banners shaming America for its treatment of black people. Some read, “Your hands are full of blood,” “Thou Shalt Not Kill,” “Mothers, do lynchers go to heaven?” Others highlighted the wartime context and the hollowness of America’s ideals: “We have fought for the liberty of white Americans in six wars; our reward was East St. Louis,” “Patriotism and loyalty presuppose protection and liberty,” “Make America safe for Democracy.”</p>
<p>Throughout the parade, the marchers remained silent. The New York Times <a href="https://timesmachine.nytimes.com/timesmachine/1917/07/29/96262006.html?pageNumber=12">described the protest</a> as “one of the most quiet and orderly demonstrations ever witnessed.” The silence was finally broken with cheers when the parade concluded at Madison Square. </p>
<h2>Legacy of the Silent Protest Parade</h2>
<p>The “Silent Protest Parade” marked the beginning of a new epoch in the long black freedom struggle. While adhering to a certain <a href="http://www.hup.harvard.edu/catalog.php?isbn=9780674769786">politics of respectability</a>, a strategy employed by African-Americans that focused on countering racist stereotypes through dignified appearance and behavior, the protest, within its context, constituted a radical claiming of the public sphere and a powerful affirmation of black humanity. It declared that a “New Negro” had arrived and launched a black public protest tradition that would be seen in the parades of the <a href="http://lsupress.org/books/detail/the-world-of-marcus-garvey/">Universal Negro Improvement Association</a>, the civil rights demonstrations of the 1960s and the Black Lives Matter marches of today. </p>
<p>[<em>Context on today’s headlines, each day.</em> <a href="https://theconversation.com/us/newsletters?utm_source=TCUS&utm_medium=inline-link&utm_campaign=newsletter-text&utm_content=context">You can get it with The Conversation’s email newsletter</a>.]</p>
<p>The “Silent Protest Parade” reminds us that the fight against racist violence and the killing of black people remains just as relevant now as it did 100 years ago. Black death, whether at the hands of a <a href="http://www.cnn.com/2017/05/03/us/alton-sterling-doj-death-investigation/index.html">Baton Rouge police officer</a> or <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/world/national-security/charleston-church-shooter-i-would-like-to-make-it-crystal-clear-i-do-not-regret-what-i-did/2017/01/04/05b0061e-d1da-11e6-a783-cd3fa950f2fd_story.html">white supremacist in Charleston</a>, is a specter that continues to haunt this nation. The expendability of black bodies is American tradition, and history speaks to the long endurance of this violent legacy.</p>
<p>But history also offers inspiration, purpose and vision. </p>
<p>Ida B. Wells, James Weldon Johnson and other freedom fighters of their generation should serve as models for activists today. That the “Silent Protest Parade” attracted black people from all walks of life and backgrounds attests to the need for organizations like the NAACP, following its recent national convention, to remember and embrace its origins. And, in building and sustaining the current movement, we can take lessons from past struggles and work strategically and creatively to apply them to the present. </p>
<p>Because, at their core, the demands of black people in 2017 remain the same as one of the signs raised to the sky on that July afternoon in 1917: </p>
<p>“Give me a chance to live.”</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/81427/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Chad Williams does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Thousands marched in silence against racial violence after a riot left hundreds of blacks dead and thousands homeless. The demands of black people in 2017 remain the same as they did in 1917.Chad Williams, Associate Professor of African and Afro-American Studies, Brandeis UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/714672017-02-06T04:52:25Z2017-02-06T04:52:25ZUncovering the roots of racist ideas in America<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/155385/original/image-20170202-1665-l2b1r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Little Rock protest, 1959
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Wikimedia/John T. Bledsoe </span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Donald Trump proclaimed during <a href="http://www.cnn.com/2017/01/20/politics/trump-inaugural-address/">his inaugural address</a>, “When you open your heart to patriotism, there is no room for prejudice.”</p>
<p>Opening our hearts to patriotism will not solve the problem of racist ideas. Some of the nation’s proudest patriots have also been the nation’s most virulent racists. The organizing principle of the Ku Klux Klan has always been allegiance to the red, white and blue flag.</p>
<p>Lacking patriotism is not the root of racist ideas. But neither is ignorance and hate, as Americans are taught so often during Black History Month. </p>
<p>Contrary to popular conceptions, ignorant and hateful people have not been behind the production and reproduction of racist ideas in America. Instead, racist ideas have usually been produced by some of the most brilliant and cunning minds of each era. And these women and men generally did not produce these ideas because they hated black people. </p>
<p>In my book, <a href="http://www.nationalbook.org/nba2016winner_nf_kendi-stamped-from-the-beginning.html#.WJI60rYrJ0s">“Stamped from the Beginning,”</a> I chronicle the entire history of racist ideas, from their origins in 15th-century Europe, through colonial times when early British settlers carried racist ideas to America, all the way to their emergence in the United States and persistence into 21st century. I distinguish between the influential producers of racist ideas, and the consumers of them. And I study the motives – and historical circumstances – behind the production of racist ideas. My persisting research question was not merely what racist ideas influential Americans produced, but why they produced those racist ideas at a particular time and how those ideas impacted America.</p>
<p>What caused Thomas Jefferson to decry <a href="http://www.let.rug.nl/usa/presidents/thomas-jefferson/letters-of-thomas-jefferson/jefl232.php">“Amalgamation with the other color”</a> in 1814 after he had fathered several biracial children with Sally Hemings? </p>
<p>What caused U.S. Sen. John C. Calhoun of South Carolina in 1837 <a href="http://teachingamericanhistory.org/library/document/slavery-a-positive-good/">to produce</a> the racist idea of slavery as a “positive good” when he knew slavery’s torturous horrors? </p>
<p>What caused <a href="http://www.presidency.ucsb.edu/ws/?pid=29547">President Theodore Roosevelt in 1906</a> to affirm that “the greatest existing cause of lynching is the perpetration … of the hideous crime of rape” when he probably saw <a href="https://archive.org/stream/southernhorrors14975gut/14975.txt">the data</a> that showed that rape was not the greatest existing cause?</p>
<p>What caused <a href="http://www.forbes.com/2008/12/30/end-of-racism-oped-cx_jm_1230mcwhorter.html">think tankers</a> and <a href="http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=18489466">journalists</a> after the presidential election of Barack Obama in 2008 to produce the racist idea of a post-racial society during all that <a href="http://www.reuters.com/article/us-usa-obama-hatecrimes-idUSTRE4AN81U20081124">post-election violence</a> against black bodies? </p>
<p>Time and again, racist ideas have not been born and bred in the cradle of ignorant, hateful or unpatriotic minds. Time and again, powerful and brilliant men and women have produced racist ideas in order to justify the racist policies of their era, in order to redirect the blame for their era’s racial disparities away from those policies and onto black people.</p>
<p>The common conception that ignorance and hate lead to racist ideas, and that racist ideas initiate racist policies, is largely ahistorical. It has actually been the inverse relationship – racial discrimination has led to racist ideas which has led to ignorance and hate.</p>
<p>“Stamped from the Beginning” shows that the principal function of racist ideas in American history has been to suppress resistance to racial discrimination and its resulting racial disparities. The beneficiaries of slavery, segregation and mass incarceration have produced racist ideas of black people being best suited for or deserving of the confines of slavery, segregation or the jail cell. Consumers of these racist ideas have been led to believe there is something wrong with black people, and not the policies that have enslaved, oppressed and confined so many black people. </p>
<p>From the beginning, Americans have been trying to explain the existence and persistence of racial inequities. Racist ideas considering racial inequality to be normal due to black pathology have locked heads with anti-racist ideas that consider racial inequality to be abnormal and the effect of racial discrimination. Anti-racist ideas have called for the justice of equity, while racist ideas have called for the law and order of inequality.</p>
<p>A year after young black men were <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2017/jan/08/the-counted-police-killings-2016-young-black-men">nine times</a> more likely than other Americans to be killed by the police, President Trump has not said anything about protecting black lives from police violence. He is not issuing any executive orders banning racist cops or armed white supremacists from black communities. He made abundantly clear what lives matter to him on his new White House website. </p>
<p>“The Trump administration will be a law and order administration,” <a href="https://www.whitehouse.gov/law-enforcement-community">reads the page</a>, “Standing Up for Our Law Enforcement Community.” It adds: “President Trump will honor our men and women in uniform and will support their mission of protecting the public. The dangerous anti-police atmosphere in America is wrong. The Trump administration will end it.”</p>
<p>In his inaugural, Trump suggested there can be racial unity in his law-and-order America. He quoted the Bible. “‘How good and pleasant it is when God’s people live together in unity.’” </p>
<p>One thing from my research is clear: Racial unity is impossible when racial inequalities are created and maintained by racist policies that are justified by racist ideas. Racist ideas have always been like walls built by powerful Americans to keep us divided, and these walls have always normalized our racial divisions and inequities.</p>
<p>Americans no longer need the law and order of inequality, poverty and black death. Americans no longer need walls of racist ideas. Americans need the ordering justice that honors and protects the women and men in that unfailingly imperiled uniform – the uniform of blackness. Only then, I believe, will God’s people have a chance to live together in unity.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/71467/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Ibram X. Kendi does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Ignorant and hateful people are not behind the production of racist ideas, as Americans are taught so often during Black History Month.Ibram X. Kendi, Professor of History, American University School of International ServiceLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/656212016-10-06T14:55:35Z2016-10-06T14:55:35ZClinton and Trump need to address police violence in debate<p>On Oct. 9, 2016, Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump will come together for the <a href="http://www.uspresidentialelectionnews.com/2016-debate-schedule/2016-presidential-debate-schedule/">second presidential debate</a> – taking the stage only eight miles from Ferguson, Missouri. </p>
<p>Since the <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2014/08/13/us/ferguson-missouri-town-under-siege-after-police-shooting.html?_r=0">police shooting of Michael Brown</a> in Ferguson on Aug. 9, 2014, the greater St. Louis area has been the epicenter of a national discussion – sometimes loud, often heated – about police violence. </p>
<p>This presidential debate should take up that discussion about race and policing – not only because of the significance of the location but also because of the timing. The town hall style debate comes after weeks of unrest in cities across the country, following the police shootings of <a href="http://www.essence.com/2016/09/19/medical-examiner-tyre-king-shooting">Tyree King</a> in Columbus, Ohio, <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2016/09/20/us/video-released-in-terence-crutchers-killing-by-tulsa-police.html">Terence Crutcher</a> in Tulsa, Oklahoma, <a href="http://www.cnn.com/2016/09/22/us/keith-lamont-scott/">Keith Lamont Scott</a> in Charlotte, North Carolina and <a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-3810837/Unarmed-black-man-acting-erratically-shot-police-San-Diego-suburb-amid-claims-cops-confiscated-witnesses-cell-phones.html">Alfred Olango</a> in El Cajon, California. </p>
<p>These incidents have once again brought to the surface the systemic problem of police violence in black communities. Today, black teens are <a href="http://www.vox.com/2016/8/14/12472896/milwaukee-wisconsin-riots-police-shooting">21 times</a> more likely to be shot and killed by the police than their white counterparts. As several historians have recently acknowledged, black Americans die at the hands of police at a rate that is <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2014/aug/25/mike-brown-shooting-jim-crow-lynchings-in-common">almost equivalent</a> to the number of documented lynchings during the early 20th century.</p>
<p>This issue has <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/morning-mix/wp/2016/07/09/the-bahamas-travel-advisory-for-the-u-s-use-extreme-caution-around-the-police/">received international attention</a>. A recent report by one U.N. Working Group of Experts <a href="http://www.ushrnetwork.org/our-work/project/un-working-group-experts-people-african-descent-visit">stated</a>, “Contemporary police killings and the trauma that they create are reminiscent of the past racial terror of lynching.” This year alone, almost 200 black people have been killed by police – <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/ng-interactive/2015/jun/01/the-counted-police-killings-us-database">a figure</a> that represents only documented and reported incidents.</p>
<p>These staggering statistics underscore the urgent need for Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump to move beyond symbolic gestures and instead clearly articulate how they intend to address this issue if elected president of the United States. </p>
<p>But what can be done by the next president? This is a question that concerns us as black millennials and as historians <a href="http://www.ugapress.org/index.php/books/index/charleston_syllabus">who write</a> about <a href="http://www.publicaffairsbooks.com/book/hardcover/stamped-from-the-beginning/9781568584638">American racism</a>.</p>
<h2>A blueprint for action</h2>
<p>“A Vision for Black Lives,” the comprehensive <a href="https://policy.m4bl.org/platform">list of demands</a> released by the Movement for Black Lives (M4BL), provides one blueprint for how the next U.S. president can address the issue of race and policing. The M4BL is a coalition of <a href="https://policy.m4bl.org/about/">more than 50 organizations</a> across the country, mostly led by black millennials who support Black Lives Matter (BLM).</p>
<p>Originally released on Aug. 1, 2016, “A Vision for Black Lives,” includes six policy demands that <a href="http://www.aaihs.org/tag/m4bl/">seek to bring an end to anti-black racism and state-sanctioned violence</a> in black communities. The activists call for “<a href="https://policy.m4bl.org/end-war-on-black-people/">an end to the war on black people</a>,” arguing that black youth have been criminalized and dehumanized in all areas of society. </p>
<p>They also demand “<a href="https://policy.m4bl.org/reparations/">reparations for past and continuing harms</a>” and “<a href="https://policy.m4bl.org/invest-divest/">investments in the education, health and safety of Black people</a>.” Reflecting the influence of <a href="http://www.aaihs.org/joseph-the-radical-democracy-of-the-movement-for-black-lives/">black power and black nationalist movements</a> of the 20th century, M4BL activists emphasize the need for <a href="https://policy.m4bl.org/economic-justice/">economic justice</a>, <a href="https://policy.m4bl.org/community-control/">community control</a> and <a href="https://policy.m4bl.org/political-power/">black political power</a>. </p>
<p>“In recent years,” the <a href="https://policy.m4bl.org/platform">platform</a> notes, “we have taken to the streets, launched massive campaigns, and impacted elections, but our elected leaders have failed to address the legitimate demands of our Movement. We can no longer wait.”</p>
<p>Yet, we have all been forced to wait as public officials continue to ignore these demands. Two months have passed since the release of “A Vision for Black Lives” and neither Trump nor Clinton have directly or concretely offered a response. </p>
<p>Regardless of one’s point of view, there is no denying that the next U.S. president must have a plan to address race and policing in a more tangible and extended fashion than in <a href="http://www.cnn.com/2016/09/21/politics/police-shootings-politics-trump-clinton/">the first debate</a>. No doubt many Americans – including <a href="https://policy.m4bl.org/about/">thousands of activists</a> who support the <a href="https://policy.m4bl.org/platform/">M4BL platform</a> – will be expecting both candidates to confront this critical issue.</p>
<p>Trump continues an <a href="http://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2016/10/trump-black-supporters/502502/">uphill battle to attract black voters</a>, with as few as 6 percent currently supporting him. Clinton is still struggling to gain the support of <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2016/09/05/us/politics/young-blacks-voice-skepticism-on-hillary-clinton-worrying-democrats.html?_r=0">black and non-black</a> millennials – a voting bloc she will need to win this election.</p>
<p>Trump’s emphasis on “law and order” policies like a nationwide <a href="http://www.aaihs.org/fighting-stop-and-frisk-policing-from-rockefeller-to-trump/">stop-and-frisk campaign</a> and his dismissal of the BLM movement all suggest he is uninterested in proposing sweeping policy changes to stem police violence. But, he is not alone. <a href="https://mic.com/articles/148107/hillary-clinton-supports-black-lives-matter-in-wake-of-police-shootings#.f4hpONBjp">Hillary Clinton has publicly supported BLM</a> but ignored the movement’s recently released platform – even after scolding the activists last summer for <a href="http://www.nbcnews.com/news/nbcblk/analysis-clintons-approach-black-lives-matter-activists-n413151">not having</a> “a plan” she could advance.</p>
<p>Both candidates have an opportunity in the upcoming debate to lay out a clear plan and vision for ending the unjust police killings of black people in the United States. While presidential debate topics are vast and the challenges facing the nation are many, the issue of police violence is one of the most critical domestic challenges of our time. It should not be ignored during the next debate – in St. Louis, of all places.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/65621/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Will the candidates acknowledge the Black Lives Matter platform during the debate in St. Louis? Millennial voters will be listening.Keisha N. Blain, Assistant Professor of History, University of IowaIbram X. Kendi, Assistant Professor of African American History, University of FloridaLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/435342015-06-19T14:11:00Z2015-06-19T14:11:00ZThe lethal gentleman: the ‘benevolent sexism’ behind Dylann Roof’s racism<p>Many important things will be said in the next few weeks about the murder of nine people holding a prayer meeting at a historic African American church in Charleston, South Carolina on the evening of June 17. </p>
<p>Here I want to focus on what the suspected killer, Dylann Roof, said right before he gunned down a room full of black worshippers. Reportedly, Roof proclaimed:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“I have to do it. You rape our women and you’re taking over our country. And you have to go.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>It is amazing all that can be said in three little sentences. </p>
<p>To a sociologist who studies gender and its intersection with other forms of inequality, this statement spoke volumes.</p>
<p>Roof’s alleged act was motivated by racism, first and foremost, but also sexism. In particular, a phenomenon called benevolent sexism. </p>
<h2>Benevolent sexism</h2>
<p>Sociologists use the <a href="http://pwq.sagepub.com/content/21/1/119">term</a> “benevolent sexism” to describe the attribution of positive traits to women that, nonetheless, justify their subordination to men. </p>
<p>For example, women may be described as good with people, but this is believed to make them perform poorly in competitive arenas like work, sports or politics. Better that they leave that to the men. </p>
<p>Women are wonderful with children, they say, but this is used to suggest that women should take primary responsibility for unpaid, undervalued domestic work. Better that they let men support them. </p>
<p>And the one that Roof used to rationalize his racist act was: women are beautiful, but their grace makes them fragile. Better that they stand back and let men defend them. </p>
<p>This argument is hundreds of years old, of course. </p>
<p>It’s most clearly articulated in the <a href="http://uncpress.unc.edu/browse/book_detail?title_id=1581">history of lynching, </a>in which black men were violently murdered routinely by white mobs using the excuse that they had raped a white woman. </p>
<p>Roof is the modern equivalent of this white mob. He believes that he and other white men own me and women like me — “you rape our women,” he said possessively — and so he justified gunning down innocent black people on my behalf. You are vulnerable, he’s whispering to me, let me protect you.</p>
<p>That’s chilling enough, but he also makes claim to the nation itself. “You’re taking over our country” reflects a xenophobic white entitlement to land. We could call it ironic – given the presence of Native Americans centuries before the arrival of the white man – yet it is so routine as to be the common sense of this country. </p>
<h2>Colonial attitudes</h2>
<p>When European colonizers first arrived on the shores of America, the country was a “she”: they saw “her” as open to discovery and exploration. Today, we still call her the “motherland” and, when she is attacked, we refer to her as the domesticized “homefront.”</p>
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<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/85669/original/image-20150619-32080-5fbxgs.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/85669/original/image-20150619-32080-5fbxgs.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=836&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/85669/original/image-20150619-32080-5fbxgs.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=836&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/85669/original/image-20150619-32080-5fbxgs.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=836&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/85669/original/image-20150619-32080-5fbxgs.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1051&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/85669/original/image-20150619-32080-5fbxgs.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1051&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/85669/original/image-20150619-32080-5fbxgs.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1051&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
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<span class="caption">Europe supported…</span>
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<p>In art, too, nations are often portrayed as women, such as in English painter William Blake’s engraving, “Europe supported by Africa and America” (1796) of three naked women – one black, one white, one brown – who stand in for their countries. These white male colonialists hardly differentiated between what could be extracted from the land and their right to extract whatever they wanted from native women. </p>
<p>Roof is that colonizer. White women are his land. His land is a she. His relationship to this country and the white women in it is the same: both belong to white men like him. </p>
<p>In his mind, apparently, black people are the interlopers, the rapists, the plunderers of his natural resources, female and otherwise. It’s a twisted but not an unusual way to think about the world; not then and not now. </p>
<p>As sociologist Michael Kimmel documents in <a href="http://www.salon.com/2013/11/17/americas_angriest_white_men_up_close_with_racism_rage_and_southern_supremacy/">Angry White Men</a>, the rage felt by many rural, poor and working class whites is rooted in the belief that a country that is their birthright is being taken away from them.</p>
<h2>A Texas pioneer</h2>
<p>In the 1920s and ‘30s, Texan <a href="http://cup.columbia.edu/book/revolt-against-chivalry/9780231082822">Jessie Daniel Ames</a> was one of the first women to argue that lynching was sexist as well as racist. </p>
<p>She exposed the idea that white women needed protection from black men as a lie, gaining the support of thousands of women and hundreds of public officials for <a href="http://cup.columbia.edu/book/revolt-against-chivalry/9780231082822">her anti-lynching campaign</a>. </p>
<p>She and other women went into communities where lynchings occurred — where their lives really were at risk from angry white men — and protested the murder of black men with white women’s rape as a justification. </p>
<p>Historian <a href="http://cup.columbia.edu/book/revolt-against-chivalry/9780231082822">Jacquelyn Dowd Hall</a> describes Ames’s work as a “revolt against chivalry.”</p>
<p>Ames understood that all oppression is interconnected. </p>
<p>We know this now more than ever. We live not in isolated pockets of prejudice, but with a collection of privileges that depend on each other for their persistence and resonance.</p>
<p>Roof’s act was racist, yes, but his racism was built upon colonialism and sexism. Our hierarchies interconnect, interweaving, providing each other with support. </p>
<p>“We are none of us free,” wrote the poet <a href="http://www.princeton.edu/main/news/archive/S16/82/70M09/index.xml">Emma Lazarus</a>, “if we are not all free.” </p>
<p>I am a white woman. I am not yours to protect. No more murder in my name.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/43534/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Lisa Wade does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>The killing of nine people in Charleston’s AME Church was motivated by racism, first and foremost, but also sexism.Lisa Wade, Assistant Professor, Sociology, Occidental CollegeLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/398242015-04-09T10:07:58Z2015-04-09T10:07:58ZThe Civil War: the one we fought, the one we’re still fighting<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/77201/original/image-20150407-26488-1rp9o00.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">April 9 1865 - but the war lives on. </span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/72213316@N00/2807817622/">(Flickr)</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Today marks the <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2015/03/29/opinion/sunday/why-reconstruction-matters.html?smprod=nytcore-iphone&smid=nytcore-iphone-share&_r=1">150th anniversary of the end of the Civil War</a>, a time to reflect on the bloodiest war in US history and consider the ways the conflict rages on in the American way of life.</p>
<p>With nearly 700,000 lives lost, thousands of homes destroyed, acres decimated and people displaced on both sides, this war represents a major turning point in race relations in our young nation. Four million African-Americans received their freedom — in exchange for battles of a different kind. When I teach this history, my students here in Texas have mixed reactions because some are descendants of Union veterans and others have family lines that trace back to the Confederacy. </p>
<h2>Defeated but not forgotten</h2>
<p>On the morning of April 9, 1865, General Robert E Lee of the Confederacy and his troops called a truce, ending four years of battle. Surrendering to General Ulysses S Grant of the Union Army represented the beginning of the Confederate withdrawal, which took place at the village of Appomattox Court House in Virginia.</p>
<p>Following the war, in 1866, the Ku Klux Klan was founded in Pulaski, Tennessee. A white social fraternity comprised of former Confederate veterans, this group aimed to police African-Americans and other minorities in the aftermath of slavery. Garbed in white robes with hoods, they took to violence in the form of threats, lynching and outright murder.</p>
<p>With all of the recognition of the war’s end, what does this mean today? Has the US racial landscape changed, or are we fighting for some of the same rights and issues prevalent 150 years ago? </p>
<p>The simple answer is “yes,” the struggle over race and oppression continues. </p>
<p>However, one does not have to look much further than contemporary political issues in Georgia, North Carolina and Texas to see that Civil War symbols of antebellum life offer nostalgia and pride for some Southerners. </p>
<p>Even though the battle is over, the war continues in our courts, on our campuses, and in state and federal government.</p>
<h2>News from Georgia, North Carolina and Texas</h2>
<p>Two weeks ago in Buford, Georgia, a local woman <a href="http://www.dailydot.com/lifestyle/racist-craigslist-ad-mandingo-fighters/">placed an ad</a> on Craigslist for an antebellum-themed party for her husband’s birthday.</p>
<p>She was looking for “domestic staff to help out in the kitchen” but insisted applicants “must be black.” She also specified an “overweight mammy type” dressed “with a rag on her head,” and “two black guys” comfortable with “wearing an iron collar and very little clothing.” </p>
<p>The woman who placed the ad even included the price: $600 for each “<a href="http://www.slate.com/blogs/browbeat/2012/12/24/django_unchained_mandingo_fighting_were_any_slaves_really_forced_to_fight.html">mandingo</a>” and “$40/hour for the domestic staff.”</p>
<p>Last week, in North Carolina, Duke University students found a <a href="http://www.msnbc.com/msnbc/duke-investigating-noose-found-hanging-campus">noose</a> hanging from a tree on the Bryant Center Plaza, the latest in a spate of lynching symbolism terrorizing college campuses. </p>
<p>Within days of the incident and investigation, university officials <a href="http://www.cnn.com/2015/04/02/us/north-carolina-duke-noose/">identified</a> the student responsible for appropriate disciplinary action. University officials are not releasing the student’s name due to “federal privacy laws” and an ongoing investigation to see if others were involved. </p>
<p>It is worth noting that <a href="http://jackshulerauthor.com/the-thirteenth-turn/">the noose</a> is the instrument of torture that replaced the whip in the aftermath of the Civil War. </p>
<p>Finally, in March the Texas Division of the Sons of the Confederate Veterans (SCV) took their battle to purchase license plates depicting the Confederate Flag to the US Supreme Court after the Texas motor vehicles board rejected the proposed plate. The case brought national attention to free speech and First Amendment rights. However, Justice Kennedy <a href="http://www.latimes.com/nation/la-na-supreme-court-confederate-license-plates-20150323-story.html">questioned</a> the sanctity of having a “racial slur” on license plates suggesting that the High Court might support the Texas motor vehicles division position. The Court will rule on the case in June.</p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/77367/original/image-20150408-18057-1svpt6o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/77367/original/image-20150408-18057-1svpt6o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/77367/original/image-20150408-18057-1svpt6o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/77367/original/image-20150408-18057-1svpt6o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/77367/original/image-20150408-18057-1svpt6o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/77367/original/image-20150408-18057-1svpt6o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/77367/original/image-20150408-18057-1svpt6o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/77367/original/image-20150408-18057-1svpt6o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">Civil right activists march from Selma to Montgomery, Alabama, in 1965.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Selma_to_Montgomery_Marches.jpg">Library of Congress</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Ending the war</h2>
<p>Many Americans are struggling to better understand and dismantle structural racism and the invisible manifestations of our country’s dependence on slave labor, codified and seemingly frozen into law and practice. These events, however, confirm that the visible manifestations of racism still live on in the form of Confederate pride. </p>
<p>Why else would a Georgia woman seek to throw a slavery-themed party asking blacks to serve if they are “comfortable”? Comfort with neck collars and chains seems ridiculous and a poor attempt at being sensitive to the offensive request. Even more troubling are those who may have answered the ad. </p>
<p>Certainly, these recent instances of cultural and political tone deafness – the noose on a college campus and a Confederate flag license plate – are examples of how threats and symbols made popular in the aftermath of the war remain popular today.</p>
<p>As we reflect on what this anniversary represents to the American state of mind, past and present, let’s consider how we will truly end this war for once and for all.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/39824/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Daina Ramey Berry does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>It officially ended 150 years ago on April 9 in Appomattox with General Lee’s surrender, but the deep divisions that produced the Civil War still roil our national psyche.Daina Ramey Berry, Oliver H. Radkey Regents Professor of History, The University of Texas at AustinLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.