Dallas, Georgia
The joy of seeing my favorite old Mustangs at the car show was overshadowed by the presence of the confederate flag. In the west metro Atlanta suburbs, I see it almost every day, but since the insurrection at the U.S. Capitol in January, it feels different. I had become used to the sight, and the outrage the rest of the country felt at seeing it in the Capitol building was a wake-up call. I wonder why we tolerate the traitor’s flag.
Years ago, when I first moved to the suburbs, I, too, was shocked by the confederate flag. I would ask random strangers what the flag meant to them and why they felt the need to display it on their car/truck/person. Never once did I receive an actual answer, “Fuck off, dyke bitch” was the general response. I quit asking because it seemed anyone flying such a flag was not capable of, or was unwilling to, articulate their views.
When I approached the older white men sitting with the rust-colored 1966 Ford Galaxie 500, both seemed shocked that I wanted to talk about the confederate flag prominently displayed on the windshield. The owner reported that he had been displaying the flag for 2 or 3 years, and that no one had ever complained, but he assured me that if anyone did, he would remove it. I made clear that I was complaining, and that he couldn’t say that anymore. He ignored me when I asked him directly to make good on his promise and remove it. When I asked why display it at all, his answer was, “We’re in the south” as if that explained everything.
More disturbing was the confederate flag mounted on the front of a 1992 Mustang used by the Georgia State Patrol. The car is immaculate, having been beautifully restored and generally only used for recruiting purposes. Two uniformed white male officers lingered around a tent with the GSP logo, recruiting banners, a table with cups and water bottles to giveaway, and a poster that read, “Georgia State Patrol Takes One to Catch One.” The car sat next to the tent, with its own informational poster, and bright red confederate flag prominently standing out against the blue car. The officer explained the confederate flag was only present as part of the Georgia State flag, the version displayed on the car was historically accurate for the year of the car. I pointed out the license plate did not reflect the state flag, but simply the state symbol and a confederate flag. (Later, a Google search would reveal a front license plate was never official for GSP vehicles, but this particular plate was commonly added, presumably by the officers who used the car.) I shared with the officer that such an image made me feel unsafe, that citizens needed to know they could trust law enforcement to be impartial, and that such a symbol indicated otherwise. He simply looked at me with a sickening, paternalistic smile, and said, “I can assure you, you’re safe.” When I pushed back, he explained the car was privately owned, that it didn’t belong to the GSP, and they couldn’t control what the owner did with the car. I pointed out that the proximity to the official tent, and the presence of uniformed officers gave the impression of state ownership, and that this looked like state sponsored terrorism. He tried to direct the conversation away from the flag by showing me the computer in the car and telling me how much he would love to patrol in this particular vehicle. I thanked him for his time and moved on, aware he was not interested in my opinion. Later, I realized he hadn’t even tried to recruit me.
I wonder about the effect of such conversations. A few years ago, I had a similar exchange about the flag at a car show, and later an older white man who overheard it approached me to thank me for pointing out the impact the flag had on me. He expressed regret that he had not thought of it from my perspective and vowed to respond differently to the flag moving forward. It is my hope that leading with my vulnerability allows others to see me as human and understand how their behavior is harmful. I fear that it empowers and emboldens those who display this flag with the intent to intimidate minorities like me.
Notes-
Debby Yoder 