Stonewall, Davis, & Lee: We are not daunted

Y’all remember the song Things that make you go hmmm? Many props due to C&C for that one. We incorporated it into regular conversation, and it became a common refrain (often said with raised eyebrows) when things just didn’t add up. Is a perfect sentiment to sum up the entity that is Stone Mountain, Georgia.

If you have not been there, imagine an enormous rounded granite stone on otherwise pretty flat terrain. They say it’s the largest mass of exposed granite in the world, but I sense there is some strange loophole-slash-caveat to that statistic. Perhaps I’m just reluctant to give it that recognition. Like many spaces in this region, Indigenous folks were the first to visit what would become Stone Mountain, several thousand years ago. They say that when the White settlers came with disease and destruction in the 18th century, that previously embattled Indigenous nations collected together to form a coalition. But by the early 19th century, with forced removal and genocide virtually complete, Stone Mountain had become a popular resort spot for White Atlantans. And in 1915, inspired by Griffith’s Birth of a Nation, the Ku Klux Klan was re-established at Stone Mountain. That was about the same time that the Stone Mountain Confederate Association funded the start of what would become the largest tribute to the Confederacy in the world. The place has a troubled past, to say the least.

Last week, we brought the Saturday school students from Refugee Community Center (RCC) to Stone Mountain. The irony was deafening, as we gathered in the parking lot at the foot of the mountain. We were Black Americans, White Americans, Sudanese, Russian, Liberian, Afghani, Rwandan, and Iraqi refugees, Latino and Western European immigrants, and mixtures of all of the above. There we stood, about 25 deep, in a super-multicultural clump on the most uniquely “United Statesian” holiday weekend we have. To be sure, we were thankful to be there and to be together. But the majority of folks in our group hadn’t celebrated Thanksgiving earlier that week.

We huddled together to ward of the chilling wind, and we hustled into the Main building to watch the Stone Mountain Movie. Though I have visited the place before, I must have missed the movie, so I was very interested to see how the story of Stone Mountain would be told. To my surprise, the film said very little about the Confederate “heroes” to whom the Mountain is dedicated. Stonewall Jackson, Jefferson Davis, and Robert E. Lee received about as much air time as it takes to say their name on the video. Nor did the film talk about the Indigenous genocide, the founding of the KKK, or the century-long intentional symbolism of the White South. Instead, the film focused on the feat of creating the monument; indeed it really was quite a feat.

Talking with a few of the students after the film, we agreed that our presence was testament to how things have changed. We laughed at the thought of White supremacists seeing our group; we found strength in confronting the hate of the not-so-distant past.

Such is paradox of Stone Mountain and like places in this country and in our world. The sordid past of such places understandably repels some from visiting them at all. But others gain strength from journeying directly to the jaws of the enemy. From celebrating in spite of – perhaps because of – that same history.

To tell you the truth, it fascinates me. The multiple layers of natural and human history make our every step matter in ways that we may or may not know.

Matter of fact, if anyone wants to head out there with me next Fourth of July, I’m down to roll.