There are lots of things in this world that break my
heart. Seeing nine innocent people
gunned down in cold blood while they were worshipping God in the safety of
their own church breaks my heart. It
would break my heart whether those people were black or white or Asian or
Indian. It would break my heart whether
the murder weapon was a gun or a knife or a homemade bomb. It broke my heart when three Muslim students
in Chapel Hill were gunned down over something as stupid as a parking
dispute. It breaks my heart when people
in authority abuse and misuse their power resulting in even more death and
destruction. I believe in the sanctity
of life – all life – regardless of age or race or gender or sexual orientation. However, it seems that many in our society
today have little regard for value of life, and it breaks my heart.
But, there’s something else that breaks my heart. It breaks my heart that we live in a society
that insists on labeling everything and everyone and then refuses to see past
the labels. The recent shootings in
South Carolina have started a massive campaign to essentially ban the public
display of the Confederate flag. And, I
will say that I agree that the Confederate flag shouldn’t be flown over
government buildings as the “Confederate States of America” no longer
exists. And, I understand that the
Confederate flag has been used as a symbol of white supremacy and, as such,
offends many people. However, the point
I’d like to make has less to do with the Confederate flag and more to do with
labels and stereotyping.
I am a Southern girl – born and raised in the great state of
North Carolina. My family (on both
sides) has lived here since this nation was founded. My daddy grew up on a farm that has been in
our family for over 150 years. My aunt
and my cousins still live on that same land.
I am Southern to the core, and I am proud of it. I have relatives who fought and died in the
Civil War (on both sides, actually), and when I see the Confederate flag, it is
a reminder of all that was won and lost during that awful time in our country’s
history. It is a reminder that we should
NEVER let that kind of upheaval happen again.
I’m Southern, but I don’t own a confederate flag. I don’t display one on my house – I don’t
have one on my license plate – I don’t have the t-shirt. But, I am friends with people who do. They are good people. They are not racists. They are just proud of their Southern
heritage. This country was founded on
freedom of speech and freedom of expression, and I don’t believe that people
should be banned from displaying a symbol that is part of their heritage.
I’m Southern, but I don’t own a gun. I grew up in a household where my daddy had
guns. He would never have used them to
harm someone. Instead, he used them to
protect his cattle from predators and his garden from pesky crows. And, occasionally, at Christmastime, he would
use them to shoot down some mistletoe from high up in the trees so that we
could hang it in our house for decoration.
I believe that he has the right to own those guns, and I don’t believe
that right should be taken away. The
fact that he owns a gun does not make him a criminal. How a gun is used is a matter of the heart –
not a matter of ownership.
I’m Southern, but I’m not a racist. I have friends with brown skin and black skin
and yellow skin. I love them all. I do my best to look at people the way that
God looks at people, and He looks at the heart. Growing up, members of the KKK
came into our school at one point. I saw
Klan rallies in the darkness of night when I was driving home on the back roads
after going to the movies. I know
someone who had a cross burned in their yard.
There is no doubt that racism existed, and still exists, in the
South. But, to be Southern doesn’t mean
that you are necessarily racist. I saw
the effects of racism, and I vowed not to let it take hold in my heart or the
hearts of my children. I think that many
Southerners of my generation feel the same way.
Racism is a matter of the heart, not a matter of where you were born.
I’m Southern, but I’m not ignorant. I grew up in a family that valued
education. My parents sacrificed to help
me go to college, and I was the first one in my family to earn a PhD. I am a professor at a major university. I work hard all day, and I come home and I
take care of my family. I cook dinner
and I clean the house (most of the time).
I don’t wear “daisy dukes” and I don’t sit around on the back porch with
curlers in my hair swatting flies all day waiting for my man to come home and
take care of me – which, thanks to the news media, is the image that comes to
mind for many people when they think of Southern women.
I’m Southern, but I’m more than a stereotype. Please don’t put me in that “Southern” box
that you have labeled as ignorant, racist, and gun-toting. And, I won’t put you in a box either. Everywhere I look today there are labels, and
labels are associated with stereotypes, and stereotypes seldom apply with much
generality. They are caricatures meant
to highlight certain features. They are
not images of truth. The question that
I’m struggling with is how can we as a society get rid of all the labels and
just love and accept each other for who we are – and not how we’re
labeled? The more we label each other,
the more we gravitate towards those with the same label as ours, and the more
fragmented our society becomes. Why
can’t this country get back to that great statement from the pledge of
allegiance: “One nation, under God,
indivisible, with liberty and justice for all”?
Applying more labels and enacting legislation based on those labels just
tears us apart. The problems that we
have in our country right now are not “label” issues – they’re heart
issues. When will we wake up and realize
that our problems won’t get better until we address the sinfulness that’s
inside of us all?
I’m Southern, and I’m more than a label.
“The Lord does not look at the things
people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but
the Lord looks at the heart.” – I Samuel 16:7
