Ms. Mitchell was my eighth-grade history teacher. She stood about four foot nine, a small dynamo with a disarming smile and an amazing ability to make you feel guilty for misbehaving. She used to sing, but she damaged her vocal cords. I don’t know how. She might have told us, but I can’t remember now. Such forgetting comes with age. With each passing year a memory fades or fragments. I do remember that Ms. Mitchell needed a microphone to teach us history. With her somewhat raspy voice and the periodic static from the amplifier, she made history come alive....
During the 1983 - 1984 school year, I was a freshman at Coahoma County High School in Clarksdale, MS, and took Mississippi History. We received new textbooks that year but still had access to the old textbooks, which taught the Civil War as "The War of Northern Aggression." Thus, as late as 1983, Mississippi was still justifying slavery and the war it fought to maintain slavery. As such, we can't be surprised by the battles we're fighting today.
Having lived in the Deep South for 20 years (10 of them in Mississippi), your recollections and observations strike a deep chord. Indeed, it seems the evil many of us wanted to believe was past is once again rearing up. All it seems to have taken is one election; it must have been buried in a shallow grave. Thank you for your heartfelt essay.
Professor Glaude: Reading your words brings many memories and experiences to mind. I was married to a man from your home State. He was from Columbus. His mother died when he was 8 years old and he was raised by his great grandmother who was born into slavery. He had many stories.
And as a total distraction possibly, my geometry teacher in 10th grade was Mr
Mitchell. A very unique man. In outer space much of the time. One day a week he would read Edgar Allen Poe stories to us, beginning with the Gold Bug, then the Pit and the Pendulum. He eventually left high school and became a philosophy professor at U of I. Your word inspires my past experiences. Rememory. 🌹
Such a thoughtful piece. Love your candor. You’re so right about what we find fascinating as children and as adults: not always the same and for reasons that follow from experience and knowledge. We never get the full truth as children. Certainly not about race. Especially those of us from the south or with southern roots. Thanks for sharing your story.
During the 1983 - 1984 school year, I was a freshman at Coahoma County High School in Clarksdale, MS, and took Mississippi History. We received new textbooks that year but still had access to the old textbooks, which taught the Civil War as "The War of Northern Aggression." Thus, as late as 1983, Mississippi was still justifying slavery and the war it fought to maintain slavery. As such, we can't be surprised by the battles we're fighting today.
Having lived in the Deep South for 20 years (10 of them in Mississippi), your recollections and observations strike a deep chord. Indeed, it seems the evil many of us wanted to believe was past is once again rearing up. All it seems to have taken is one election; it must have been buried in a shallow grave. Thank you for your heartfelt essay.
Professor Glaude: Reading your words brings many memories and experiences to mind. I was married to a man from your home State. He was from Columbus. His mother died when he was 8 years old and he was raised by his great grandmother who was born into slavery. He had many stories.
And as a total distraction possibly, my geometry teacher in 10th grade was Mr
Mitchell. A very unique man. In outer space much of the time. One day a week he would read Edgar Allen Poe stories to us, beginning with the Gold Bug, then the Pit and the Pendulum. He eventually left high school and became a philosophy professor at U of I. Your word inspires my past experiences. Rememory. 🌹
Such a thoughtful piece. Love your candor. You’re so right about what we find fascinating as children and as adults: not always the same and for reasons that follow from experience and knowledge. We never get the full truth as children. Certainly not about race. Especially those of us from the south or with southern roots. Thanks for sharing your story.
I am always moved by your pieces. This one, profound.
Aww, Eddie. So thought-provoking. Right up there with your best. Thank you.