In Florence, at the intersection of Pine and Park streets, there is a statue — at 7 feet tall, with arms outstretched — of a strong black woman.
It is a statue of Sojourner Truth, who was born Isabella Baumfree in Kingston, New York. She was a slave, not in the American South, but in a northern state. And for a time she lived in Florence, where she took the name Sojourner Truth. Her name was a portrayal of her life, not a name given to her by slave traders.
In 1993, after the acquittal of police officers accused of beating Rodney King and the rioting that followed in Los Angeles, a group of people came together to form the Committee for Northampton. The group’s purpose was “to educate, organize, provide cultural leadership, and any other necessary actions to eliminate racism in Northampton and the Pioneer Valley and to engage in related activities in support thereof.”
One of the projects they took on was the erection of a statue, a monument, to honor Sojourner Truth in a community that had been her home. This statue would be a “symbol of the community’s desire to end racism.” It took nearly 10 years and $270,000 to go from idea to reality.
While the community was interested, there wasn’t agreement. Some said that her memory would be better honored by a scholarship fund, or support for the Forbes Library renovations.
There were people worried about traffic and parking (some things never change). Nevertheless, the committee persisted. And now, there is a statue built on public land, two annual scholarships and walking tours of Florence’s African-American Heritage Trail.
There is a statue of Truth in Battle Creek, Michigan, where she lived in her last years. And there is a statue of her as a young girl in upstate New York, in the town where she lived as a slave. All of her home communities wanted to honor her and to be inspired by her.
I obviously didn’t know Sojourner Truth, so I only have my own perceptions of what she believed. But, by learning about her words and actions, I understand that she was a fervent anti-slavery activist who experienced profound, brutal racism and fought back. And I recognize her as a feminist who actually tried to vote in 1872 because she thought it should be her right.
As the national debate about statues has unfolded on TV and social media, I have thought of our statue and the other communities that came together to honor her. And I have also thought about communities across the South (and some in the North) who erected statues to honor and be inspired by the leaders of the Confederacy.
The statues of Robert E. Lee, Jefferson Davis, and Stonewall Jackson were also erected as symbols of community desire — the desire to return to the time when white men owned slaves who were kidnapped from Africa and sold as chattel. Former Confederate leaders worked to mythologize the antebellum South as an idyllic agrarian society where African-Americans were treated well, brought to Christianity, and knew their place in society.
When South Carolina seceded from the United States in 1860 its stated reason was that “ the (United States) Government itself has been made destructive of them by the action of the non-slaveholding States. Those States have assumed the right of deciding upon the propriety of our domestic institutions; and have denied the rights of property established in fifteen of the States.” What did it refer to when writing about domestic institutions and the rights of property? Slavery.
Confederate statues were put up to send a message. During the 1920s they provided the cultural reinforcement for the passage of racist Jim Crow laws throughout the South. And during the 1950s and 1960s they were used to inspire opposition to the the civil rights movement.
After the Civil War, Robert E. Lee didn’t think it was appropriate to memorialize the generals. In fact, he told southerners to “unite in honest efforts to obliterate the effects of the war” with a goal to “promote harmony and good feeling.”
There was no honest effort from the South or the North to promote harmony and good feeling. And the descendants of slaves are still paying the price.
Today, the federal government is under the control of a man who has never suffered deprivation and has no empathy for anyone. He callously defends Confederate leaders and their statues, while Heather Heyer’s parents bury their child.
Even with all of the good work done by many, there is still racism here in our Valley. We live in segregated communities. Poverty, often racism’s companion, is getting worse.
But we can take hope from a strong black woman who didn’t retreat from the struggle. She said, “Truth is powerful and it prevails.”
Clare Higgins, of Northampton, a former mayor of the city, is executive director of the nonprofit Community Action! of the Franklin, Hampshire and North Quabbin Regions.