Before I weigh in on the recent revelation that former white
segregationist, the late Strom Thurmond Sr., fathered
African-American Essie Mae Washington-Williams, let me take you back
a few years.
In the late 1980s, my 10th grade history teacher demanded we not
write about Malcolm X for Black History Month. Too controversial,
she said. Brought too much pain to too many people.
She was white, and in this case I believe her race mattered,
because she implied as much. She would feel uncomfortable allowing
anyone under her watch to honor a man who spent a good portion of
his life proudly proclaiming his disdain for white people.
Back then, I thought she had a point, even as she was making this
stipulation to my almost all-black class in a high school that was
roughly 98 percent black.
Of course, teenagers being teenagers, many of my classmates wrote
about him anyway, daring our teacher to discipline them. She didn't,
of course, and couldn't really.
So for that month we ended up with several accounts of how
Malcolm was a great man. A brave man.
A black man who stood up to corrupt, racist cops. An almost
saintly hero of the black race - and no mention of his pre-Mecca
self, a Malcolm who flatly said a white person could do nothing to
help advance the black cause, a Malcolm who called whites "blue-eyed
devils ..." a Malcolm who was a thief, a Malcolm who advocated for
the complete separation of the races.
All our class ended up learning about Malcolm X was, quite
frankly, not much. The denial by our teacher led to anger among my
classmates, which ended with a retelling of the life of one of
America's most complicated citizens into little more than a fairy
tale and cheerleading.
It left the impression with many in that class that holding high
the image of Malcolm - the incomplete image - was more important
than truth, particularly because "outsiders" were trying to deny his
greatness. It probably left my teacher disillusioned to see so many
of her students honor a man she thought hated people who looked like
her.
Most important, it left us all a bit more blind.
Don't let the same thing happen with the long-rumored but recent
revelation that Thurmond, who had one of the most brilliant
political careers in this country's history but was also a staunch
segregationist, is the father of a black daughter, a secret they
held for several decades.
But shortly after the story broke, that was precisely the path we
were on.
Friends and associates of the Thurmonds proclaimed that the claim
by Williams was "ludicrous" and "bizarre" or, in the words of U.S.
Rep. Joe Wilson, "It's a smear on the image that [Thurmond] has as a
person of high integrity who has been loyal to the people of South
Carolina" and should have remained a secret.
Thurmond opponents quickly piled on the other side, pointing out
the hypocrisy of his life. He divided the races for political gain
but had the most intimate of relationships with someone outside his
race.
Many saw the revelation as a chance to score points, if you will,
to either denigrate those who dared challenge Thurmond's saintly
image or the man himself. Others took it as an almost longed-for
confirmation that Thurmond's public stance on race was wrong, at
least before he walked away from most of his segregationist ideas at
the end of his career, much in the way Malcolm X did.
Fortunately, the Thurmond family stepped in and acknowledged
Williams' claim. Strom Thurmond Jr. said he just wanted to meet his
older sister. Said he felt good because he was doing the right
thing.
And with that small gesture, they gave us the opportunity to
explore more completely a life that must be examined, because it is
a symbol for so much that has gone right and wrong - not only in
South Carolina, but in the country as a whole - when it comes to
race.
We don't have to paint the former governor and U.S. senator as
saint or devil, but rather as a man who stood for both wonderful and
horrible things. Much like Malcolm X. Much like our
freedom-fighting, slave-owning Founding Fathers. Much like the
leaders of the civil rights movement who displayed unmatched bravery
but had a less-than-stellar record when it came to the treatment of
women.
By acknowledging the truth, the Thurmonds have given themselves a
chance to understand their most famous family member in a deeper
way, made it easier to uncover how far the family roots reach, and
laid the groundwork to welcome former strangers as family
members.
This country would do itself a favor by following their
lead.