This article has been in the works for several months if not years. It covers a particularly thorny and controversial issue, that of historical and potentially honorific depictions of the troubling secessionist movement known as the Southern Confederacy that launched the American Civil War. I am not from the “South”. I am not an expert. And I cannot speak on behalf of those more related to this history. The reason for this publication lies more in what experiences I can share, and how these experiences have influenced my views on historical depictions and their purposes.
It started in Europe. Hungary, to be exact, in what felt like an abandoned roadside attraction that you might find along the lonely Nevada desert highways. But in fact, I was only a little outside of sprawling, metropolitan Budapest, in a location known as Memento
Park. Maybe it was the dying grass, or the sketchy check-in counter that sold Soviet memorabilia, but the place was a relic from another time. Literally. Memento Park is a famous open-air museum of massive Soviet Union era statues, dedicated to Hungary’s Communist past. Aptly put, it’s “a graveyard to dictators that provides a place to teach and remember, but not to idealise”. Soviet Communism devastated Hungary. The country’s social economic state was far worse than many parts of Western Europe and repression was an everyday part of life. This was most infamously seen in the use of Soviet tanks against the population in the 1956 Hungarian Uprising that killed thousands. Given this, the preservation of Communist statues is surprising.
Yet in the United States, we know a thing or two about a troubled history and statues. Following the murder of George Floyd in 2020 and the proceeding protests that summer, there was a large movement to reckon with many of the Confederate Statues that dotted the United States. The Southern Poverty Law Center reported that 157 Confederate memorials were removed in the U.S. following these protests, and at the time, 723 still remained. This movement was felt across the globe and even reached St. George, Utah where I experienced my own taste of historical reckoning.
Amidst the pandemic and protests, there began a concerted effort to change the name of Dixie State University, the public college in St. George. While no definitive research had been completed at the time, there were fears that the name of the University would have an impact on student success and employment. To understand the sentiment behind this, we only have to remember a few of the name changes that took place during this time. Country singers like Lady Antebellum changed to Lady A, and the band formerly known as The Dixie Chicks became The Chicks. In both of these cases, the artists felt their names had connotations unreflective of their work.
What was difficult for St. George during this period is that Dixie is a very common word. Known as “Utah’s Dixie”, St. George has a high school called Dixie, several businesses using the word, and if that’s not enough, an enormous red rock hill with the word “Dixie” painted onto it. When the local community heard there were concerns with the word, people felt persecuted and the backlash was immediate. The difficulty of the case is that while officials wanted to change only the University and preserve the rest, as eventually occurred, the public could not accept such a narrow view of the argument. If the University had a negative connection and impact, then why is the State comfortable preserving the rest? If the community accepted the negative impact of the word on the University, then they accepted in part some of that connotation for everywhere else the word existed.
I myself attended Dixie High School and grew up understanding the word Dixie as originating from a nickname of the ‘southern, warm region of the United States’, hence its application to Southern Utah. Because of my lived experiences, the word Dixie to me connotes images of my home, red rocks, and Friday night Football cheers for our high school team. I understand this is a different perspective than what others have, and I can accept that. But this view, I believe, gives me unique insight into how we should approach issues of historical depictions. Consider that in 2024 a public opinion poll found that a majority of Americans (54%) were not supportive of removing Confederacy associated statues. Whether you agree or disagree with this, it is clear that America is still divided on the issue.
This brings me back to Memento Park and the actions we should take regarding our troubled history. Some may call this naive, but in an increasingly polarized world we need to take radically optimistic approaches to solving our nation’s divisions. While I am saddened that others view Dixie in a different way, I believe we can find a compromise. Similar action can be taken on Southern history. Imagine a Memento Park-Americana, occupied by the statues of the Confederate South for the purpose of learning and remembering. Imagine better yet if a portion of the proceeds actually went to supporting black communities in the South. We have much more to gain from history than continued hate, and we need to recognize that people have lived experiences and connotations that differ from our own. With this in mind, I say the memento we leave behind should not be one of divisions but rather the preservation of our own troubled history.
