I grew up in Walton, a small town in upstate New York. This morning, I was reminded of a visit one year ago that highlighted some of the most wonderful things about the town and growing up there: Mom’s lemon meringue pie cooling on the porch, skipping rocks in the creek with my then-four year old nephew, and holding hands with my two year old nephew when we went to pet the donkey across the road. It was a privilege to share the fresh food, crisp air, and bucolic beauty with another generation.
What a surprise, then, to end the day thinking of a post in a Facebook group dedicated to “Things I remember about Walton.” A classmate posted the Salon article about a decision taken by the Delaware County Fair board. Not only will they allow the sale of Confederate flags, but one member of the board stated, “[t]he more of them, the better.”
Why do I care? I live far away and will not be able to attend this year. But this fair, my friends, was the yearly highlight of my young life. It brings thousands of people to my small town. There are animals to admire, funnel cakes to eat, and Ferris Wheels to ride. It brings in valuable revenue to an economically depressed small town. I want people to be able to preserve the small town way of life that offered so much during my formative years. I want to know a place where people leave their doors unlocked, borrow the proverbial (and actual) cup of sugar, and watch each other’s children.
The discussion on the Facebook post unfortunately turned to accusations of bullying and prejudice, and only one person answered my question regarding why the Confederate flag was valuable to her. Most arguments, when not degenerating to name calling, talked about heritage. I felt these lacked strength, not only coming from Northerners, but in contrast to the renunciation of the flag’s heritage by Representative Jenny Horne (R-SC), a descendant of Jefferson Davis.
What a surprise, then, to end the day thinking of a post in a Facebook group dedicated to “Things I remember about Walton.” A classmate posted the Salon article about a decision taken by the Delaware County Fair board. Not only will they allow the sale of Confederate flags, but one member of the board stated, “[t]he more of them, the better.”
Why do I care? I live far away and will not be able to attend this year. But this fair, my friends, was the yearly highlight of my young life. It brings thousands of people to my small town. There are animals to admire, funnel cakes to eat, and Ferris Wheels to ride. It brings in valuable revenue to an economically depressed small town. I want people to be able to preserve the small town way of life that offered so much during my formative years. I want to know a place where people leave their doors unlocked, borrow the proverbial (and actual) cup of sugar, and watch each other’s children.
The discussion on the Facebook post unfortunately turned to accusations of bullying and prejudice, and only one person answered my question regarding why the Confederate flag was valuable to her. Most arguments, when not degenerating to name calling, talked about heritage. I felt these lacked strength, not only coming from Northerners, but in contrast to the renunciation of the flag’s heritage by Representative Jenny Horne (R-SC), a descendant of Jefferson Davis.
