Friday, August 31, 2018

Salisbury's Confederate statue

"Fame" on the evening of August 19,
after being splattered with white paint
by unnamed vandals
Let me jump into a topic that you might prefer I keep quiet about: Fame.

As you know, a beautiful bronze statue, originally cast in Belgium, was dedicated in 1909 to honor fallen Confederate soldiers. Over these last 109 years, the "angel statue" has become part of Salisbury's cultural landscape, all the while attracting frustration from those who don't think the city should be honoring the Confederate cause.

It's a touchy issue, no doubt, made even more complicated because the statue and the plot of land upon which it sits belongs to the Daughters of the Confederacy (DOC).

Let's be brutally honest: this issue isn't going away. Something will happen ... either in the spirit of consensus or through mob rule (remember Silent Sam?) I hate the thought of it, but we simply cannot eliminate the possibility of two factions marching toward the statue from opposite ends of Innes Street, landing directly in front of St. John's Church. A frightening possibility.

Two thoughts come to mind.

How can we form consensus over such a divisive issue? That's what leaders do: they seek consensus if consensus can be found. Sometimes it cannot - for moral or ethical reasons, for example - but it's always an important place to begin. What can we agree about regarding the statue? Do the dedicatory plaques tell the whole story of our community's involvement in the war? Is the statue a piece of art or is it purely a memorial?

The last question is an important one. What if we, through consensus, claim the statue as more "art" than memorial? It’s an important distinction. Good art, after all, isn't static. Artists are often unwilling to share their own interpretations of their artwork because "good" art is timeless, allowing the observer to lay his/her own interpretation upon the art, rooted in her own context, time, and place. In that regard, the dedication of Fame and the racial undertones that may or may not have accompanied its placement are secondary. Important - necessary, in fact - but secondary. Fame, as art, begs to be reinterpreted for a modern context.

With that in mind, what if we unleashed the community's artists to help reinterpret the statue? Artists are often our best prophets, so what if we allowed them to wrestle with a broader, more holistic vision of Fame? How might they deal with the plaques at the base of the statue?

That's what happened with the slave cemetery next to the Old English Cemetery. There was a very clear reason why the stone wall was constructed nearly two centuries ago - to separate white from black. I completely understand the opinion of some that the wall should have been removed altogether.

Until someone had the brilliant idea of allowing artists to get in on the discussion - artists who, by the way, represented a variety of ethnic and socio-economic backgrounds. The result: pull down a portion of the wall. Allow the stones to look as though they were broken through and tossed aside. It's an incredible statement - theologically, culturally, and historically. The walls that separate us have been broken - not fully removed, but broken. The two cemeteries have become one.

How might we re-envision and reinterpret Fame? It's a beautiful piece of art, after all. Which is precisely my point: let's claim it as art. Art that isn't beholden to or enslaved to the artist's original intent, but is allowed to be reimagined throughout time.

There was a time when Fame represented our racist past (for some, at least). What might it represent in the future? How might it be a reflection of who we are? Who we ALL are?

"I pray," Jesus said, "that they may be one as we are one ... so that the world might believe." (John 17:21).

Let's dare to sit down and think in different ways. Let's dare to sit down and listen to one another, claiming this moment in time as an opportunity to tell a richer, fuller story of who we are. Let’s dare to set an example for other communities. We can. I just hope that we will.