Columbia
Missourian, September 8, 1991
History
is much too important to be left to the historians. As cultural
critic Dwight Macdonald once said, “A people which loses contact
with its past becomes culturally psychotic.” Yet academic
historians have largely abdicated their responsibility to educate the
public, choosing instead to engage in esoteric debates of interest to
few people except other historians.
Minds
Stayed on Freedom represents an attempt by a group of young
people to recapture their own history and make it relevant to their
lives. Eighth- and ninth-grade black students in Holmes County,
Mississippi, enrolled in a summer project sponsored by the Rural
Organizing and Cultural Center in which they conducted a series of
interviews with veterans of the civil rights movement in their home
county. Several of the activists are relatives of the students, and
yet a sense of discovery marks the interviews as the youths realize
for the first time the courage and commitment necessary to gain the
basic rights they take for granted.
This
dialogue between generations goes both ways. Just as the students are
amazed at the sacrifices of an earlier generation, the former
activists are thrilled that these youths understand the importance of
the civil rights movement. As one woman says, “I’m so proud of
these young peoples because I have always wanted young people to get
involved so they could know the struggles we came through to get them
where they are today. . . . I really feel like shouting just to know
these young peoples really interested in the movement and to carry on
after we have gone to glory.”
For
most Americans, images of the civil rights movement center on a few
key events and figures. The Montgomery bus boycott, the sit-ins, the
freedom rides, the confrontations between police and demonstrators at
Birmingham and Selma, Alabama, Martin Luther King Jr.’s rousing
speech at the 1963 March on Washington, and his assassination in 1968
largely constitute the popular memory of the movement. But this focus
on a handful of major events and leaders oversimplifies the history
of the civil rights struggle and minimizes the fundamental
grass-roots nature of the movement.
In
the book’s introduction, project director Jay MacLeod places the
story of the Holmes County civil rights movement in the context of
local history from the time of the region’s first white settlement
in 1833. Even under slavery, Holmes County blacks developed a
tradition of resisting white domination. Though the experiences of
emancipation and Reconstruction failed in the long run to
fundamentally change the plantation system, they provided blacks with
a brief taste of political power. Even in the century after the
re-establishment of white supremacy, blacks in Holmes County
continued to make some economic advances—notably the creation of a
black landowning class—that were crucial to the success of the
civil rights movement.
As
MacLeod says, events that gained national coverage, like King’s
1963 campaign in Birmingham, represent the entire black community
mobilizing large numbers of people. On the other hand, the
events in Holmes County represent the local community organizing.
This process began in 1963 when a small group of independent black
farmers invited representatives of the Student Nonviolent
Coordinating Committee to help them organize. Throughout the state,
SNCC helped create the Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party, an
integrated organization to challenge the dominance of the all-white
regular Democratic party. In Holmes County, the MFDP was extremely
effective, winning in 1967 the election of the first black state
representative since Reconstruction.
This
community study indicates the diversity of the civil rights movement
by showing how local interests and tactics often differed from
national ones. In Holmes County, for example, unlike in the national
movement, the church and its ministers did not play a major role.
Rather, the lead was taken by black landowners. Despite the fact that
many were barely subsistence farmers, landowners had achieved a
degree of independence from white society that gave them the economic
freedom and personal courage to withstand white resistance to the
movement.
When
northern civil rights workers came to Holmes County to help organize,
they stayed with these independent farmers. As one landowner
remembers, being a private property owner allowed him to stand up to
whites who resented his housing a white female civil rights worker.
“I say, ‘What you go to do with this here?’ This ain’t none
of your place is it? I’m tellin’ you right now, that house
belongs to me. I don’t owe nobody nothin’ on it. If I get a bunch
of white-faced cows and put ‘em in there, it’s nobody’s
business. If I want to sleep with them, if I want ‘em to stay with
me, nobody have nothing to do with it.’”
The
crucial, early role played by landowners created resentment when, as
the movement grew, the more educated classes stepped in to take over
leadership roles. As one farmer says, “It was the so-called dumb
people. Up from the grass roots, they call it. But now, the school
teachers, the educated people, they ain’t did a damn thang! The
preachers ain’t neither. The so-called dumb people open the way for
everybody. See, the table was set. Yeah, and when the table got set
with cake and pie, school teachers and everybody come in helping eat
it up.”
Activists
in Holmes County also differed from some leaders of the national
movement in their view of armed self-defense. While the Holmes
Countians express admiration for King’s philosophy of nonviolent
resistance, they did not believe they had the luxury of strict
nonviolence. Faced with regular confrontations with the Ku Klux Klan
and other threats of force by whites, most black civil rights workers
in Holmes County kept loaded rifles on hand.
Violence
pervaded the history of race relations in Mississippi and Holmes
County was no exception. Most of this violence was carried out by
whites against blacks, often in the form of lynchings. But
occasionally blacks resisted violently. The most famous such local
episode was that of Eddie Noel, a young black Holmes Countian who, in
1954, shot and killed a white store-owner in an argument, then
escaped from a large manhunt, killing two more whites in the process,
before eventually turning himself in. Noel was a folk hero to blacks
in Holmes County by the time of the civil rights movement a decade
later. One civil rights veteran says Noel’s experience gave “some
of the black peoples the idea that they didn’t have to take the
beatin’ and runnin’ and the abusement like they had been. I’ve
heard a lot of ‘em say it was good that somebody had the courage
and the nerve to stand tall like a man than be treated like an
animal.”
Similarly,
Hartman Turnbow, an early movement leader who once fired into a crowd
of whites that had set fire to his house, became a hero to local
civil rights activists. Holmes Countians never defined such
self-defense as violence. As Robert Cooper Howard, another black who
once fired into a crowd of Klansmen outside his house, said, “I
don’t figure that I was violent. All I was doin’ was protectin’
myself.”
In
conducting the interviews, the students leave gaps of information
that more experienced interviewers would have filled. For example,
several people are mentioned as having been important to the local
movement, yet their specific roles are not clearly explained either
by those interviewed or the editors.
But
such faults are overshadowed by the book’s virtues. Most notably,
the students’ enthusiasm is contagious. In talking to their
relatives and neighbors, these young Holmes Countians learned that
history is not solely an impersonal process made by great leaders,
but also can be made when ordinary people join together to display
extraordinary courage.
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