Cultivating Hate: Our Time in the American Southeast

We saw our first cotton fields in Alabama, the plants laden with clouds about to float off the ground. As quickly as we came upon the fields, we were flying past them. The farm fields of northern Alabama looked benign, even tired after centuries of tilling. The rolling hills and worn mountain passes made for entertaining driving as we made our way to Huntsville, AL from the Shawnee National Forest. I felt the stirring of guilt in the pit of my stomach for what this plant meant for generations of enslaved people. It wasn’t until I saw the swamps of Georgia next to neat fields of cotton that I recognized the setting for the terrifying tales of escape by those brave souls on the Underground Railroad. Generations of humans where considered property worth fighting to keep. I can’t fathom that. I cannot wrap my head around the suffering those people poured into the fields of the American South. We are cultivating the legacy of that human betrayal. The entire country of the US owes a debt; for we stand on the shoulders of monsters and claim ourselves the best country in the world.

We cultivate hate, even today. Sowing it from our hearts, destroying ourselves, our home. Enslaved people ran or died for freedom. They, the living breathing embodiments of the hate cultivated in the New World. Capitalism is the pump of this hate for ourselves. I see us killing ourselves slowly, knowingly, purposefully. The world’s soil is being depleted and eroded without consideration for the future in order for multinational corporations to ensure there are gains for their shareholders. Aren’t shareholders humans? Or did I miss an invasion of a humanoid race of aliens? Money is corrupting. It removes us from our humanity.

“I used to be like you in college.” Age doesn’t distort the mind to ignore injustice - the desire for security does. As a “have” it is our duty to distribute to the “have nots.” That is the only way to plant the seed of justice. Real change is possible but it will take more mental work through therapy for us to grapple with the reality created for us by our ancestors that strived for security and prosperity. We are not secure if one of us is not secure. How can we think of leaving this rock in shambles? I understand the race against the next asteroid or famine or nuclear war but to leave this rock without completing this work will only perpetuate and even exasperate our problems. We all must own them. We must take claim for the harm done on our behalf, the scars on bodies and on the Earth if we’re going to make it past our own limitations. The power of love is collaboration. Humanity is capable of change through collaboration - it’s hard obviously and people use that as an excuse for inaction but enough is enough.

It’s easier to not think of the Walmart employees that need to work in order to qualify for welfare benefits. It’s easier to not consider the Amazon workers in fulfillment facilities that work without breaks in order to meet the quotas, walking miles each day. We just want the stuff right away. When did it become more important for the consumer to get their goods immediately instead of breaks for the employees that help Amazon amass such unfathomable wealth? Words fail to bring justice to centuries of hatred. As Christians say, we reap what is sown. We all have scythes in hand, collecting what our ancestors planted. The monocultures of corn and wheat is depleting the soil built by a millennia of prairie.

We’ve also cultivated a legacy of taking without compensating. We are living on the shoulders of monsters that saw fellow humans as less than, as animals. We must first recognize and look at where we are. We’re living through a climate crisis created by capitalists’ desire for power via the accumulation of wealth. Whole regions of the world have been devastated in order to feed their unending hunger. It is a poison we drink and pull from the depleted planet around us expecting no consequences. It’s a fool’s errand to perpetuate what we all know is unfair. We all see it in the winters and summers that differ so much from the ones of our childhood. Let me remind you - that is not normal!! Something - anything should be done by each person, every person if we are to rid the planet of our need to satiate ourselves.

Why should we send our descendants into the future with the same wounds - weeping and infected even before they’re born? It isn’t right. In a world of ambiguity, it’s easy to say “what’s right and what’s wrong?” But I say shame on the questioner. There is no ambiguity about hate.

I wanted to share the information on the Harriet Tubman Monument Fund I learned about at the Gullah Geechee Visitor Center. Tabernacle Baptist Church of Beaufort, SC launched a campaign to raise funds from the private sector to honor Harriet Tubman with a monument for her services in Beaufort during the Civil War. She deserves to be honored for her work with the Underground Railroad and for her role in a raid that freed hundreds of enslaved people in 1863 (how is she not on the $20 bill already?!).

Below you will find a rendering of the sculpture by Ed Dwight, renowned sculptor and designer of the African American History Monument at the South Carolina capitol in Columbia. The sculpture will be on land donated by the church. TBC is also the burial place of Robert Smalls, who was born into slavery in Beaufort and became a Civil War hero after stealing a Confederate warship (what a badass!?).

Please visit https://www.harriettubmanmonument.com to make an online donation or join their mailing to stay up to date on the greatest needs on the Harriet Tubman Monument.

Thanks for reading.

Until next time,

Rachel