Goodbye General Lee
A lifelong Virginian’s unlearning of the Lost Cause myth
The state of Virginia removed the iconic monument of Robert E. Lee on September 8, 2021. Cast in bronze atop his horse Traveller, Lee has presided over the city of Richmond’s featured Monument Avenue since 1890. The Lee monument, along with several monuments to other Civil War generals, were erected decades after the end of the Civil War in furtherance of the Lost Cause campaign.
Growing up on the southside of the former capitol of the Confederacy, I saw images of Robert E. Lee everywhere. In 2002, his photo was on the wall of my 4th grade class alongside founding fathers and civil rights leaders. Lee’s monument was the centerpiece of the city’s most famed street and the silhouette of it was portrayed on historical markers throughout the region. One of the most prestigious universities in our state bore his name and every January we had a day off of school in his honor. His image was everywhere.
Yet, I don’t recall learning much about Robert E. Lee in school. The only story I remember learning of him in history class was the myth that he personally opposed slavery but felt a strong sense of duty to defend his native Virginia by leading the Confederate Army. This myth was always weaved into the conversation whenever the state-approved curriculum mentioned the institution of slavery a little too close to Robert E. Lee’s name. I never learned about his family, his origin story or even what happened to him after the war.
This myth combined with lack of context of the man painted Lee as a muted figure in a very relatable battle of moral versus duty. It was even said he never wanted a monument because he was just *so* humble. Lee was a tragic hero; you knew he wasn’t totally pure but you were compelled to like him. Perhaps the writers of Mad Men wrote Don Draper in Lee’s reflection (this is a bad joke but I could not resist).
My school of course taught us about the evils of slavery too. We read watered-down, kid-friendly memoirs of former slaves and took field trips to plantations where we picked cotton and toured slave quarters. In retrospect, the punch packed by those lessons was diminished by the reverence for the men who defended slavery with their lives. The dissonance between the photographs on the classroom wall and visiting a slave auction site compromised my understanding of the origins of this country. The extent of my understanding of slavery was that it was very, very bad treatment of black people. It was a forgivable sin and part of the past because now black people had equal rights.
By my freshmen year of college, I had already denounced organized religion, the Iraq war and restrictive immigration laws but the Lost Cause myth still had a firm grip on me. I remember feeling a sting of embarrassment for an out-of-state classmate who made a fool of herself by stating the Civil War had been fought over slavery. Oh poor girl I thought she just exposed to the whole class that she didn’t learn about the Civil War. Naturally, as it happens in Liberal Arts colleges, a debate ensued. I found myself on the side of all the other Virginians. We firmly believed the Civil War wasn’t about slavery, but rather it was a terrible background issue of the era.
I continued to have similar experiences with classmates who were not from Virginia. I laughed at a girl who gasped when she saw a Confederate flag in someone’s front yard. What a dweeb. I had never considered that that flag would be offensive to anyone. In another Typical Liberal Arts College Debate, a peer mentioned Jefferson Davis’s imprisonment for treason after the war. After fact-checking her, I felt a wave of shame through my veins. How does some girl from California know Davis was imprisoned and I didn’t? I spent years studying the civil war and she probably only had a one-week lesson on it at her private school. I was also shocked to learn Davis was treated like a criminal. I grew up among monuments to him, visited his home and had friends who lived on Jefferson Davis highway.
Slowly, I began to peel away the protective film the Lost Cause myth left on my understanding of U.S. history. My gut burned with fiery emotions of guilt and shame when I finally realized that slavery was not just about treating black people horrifically. In fact, there are no black people in the story of slavery — only property. Chattel. I thought back to the slave quarters I toured as a kid and realized I was not inside the home of enslaved people but their cage. The photo of Lee on the classroom wall was not of a hero but of an oppressor.
For anyone who was not educated by Lost Cause mythology, I am sure the last section made you chuckle. I understand that most Americans never had to have an “ah-ha!” moment about how bad slavery was. I am not proud to admit this but I know that I am not alone. Per the glory of Facebook, I know that not all of my peers from that 4th grade classroom have had that “ah-ha!” moment.
Because I learned the Lost Cause myth before I learned any other U.S. history, it served as the foundation for my understanding of the American society I lived in. I did not see a connection between slavery and modern day racist systems and thus viewed modern racism as a small stain on the tapestry of American history instead of the fabric with which it is sewn.
Being bombarded with images of heroic Robert E. Lee when I was a kid did not turn me into a bigot or proponent of slavery. Similarly, the children who see an empty pedestal on Monument Avenue will not inherently become anti-racist activists. Removing Lee from his pedestal will not reverse or even pause the systematic oppression of black people in America that began with slavery. But, the Lee monument will no longer neutralize slavery or the efforts taken to preserve it in the eyes of our children.
Any article on this topic would be incomplete without mention of the many devoted activists and citizens who fought tirelessly to remove this monument.
