When Killing Is Murder
Patrick Edwards
Exodus 20:13
Introduction
I grew up in a white middle-class household in the suburbs of Richmond, Virginia. Both of my parents are college educated; my father an attorney and my mom stayed home until I was in third-grade. My parents were fairly progressive, I think, when it came to race. They had both grown up in rather racist households, and so they were very adamant any time I heard one of my grandfather's uses the N-word that I know that it was not only inappropriate, but hateful and not how I should think or speak. In other words, growing up I would have never considered myself a racist, but rather would have said, ''I care about all people and don't 'see' skin color.''
At the same time, however, my father is a big history buff and our house was covered in Civil War prints. (Keep in mind this was Richmond, Virginia in the late 80s/early 90s; the capital of the confederacy) We had paintings of Confederates all over the house; in fact, I am a descendant of Robert E. Lee on his mother's side. It is the reason my middle name is Carter. I am named after Lee's mother. Many a weekend was spent visiting Civil War battle sights across Virginia and up and down the mid-Atlantic. In fact, up until around age 10 I had a giant confederate flag hanging in my bedroom.
Now, again, keep in mind we were a ''progressive'' family so we knew how evil slavery was and how it was certainly a black eye on the South and the Confederacy. But the South was so much more than that. Oh how we fondly romanticized the ante-bellum South, watching classics like Gone with the Wind on family movie night. In school I was explicitly taught that the Civil War was all about economics; in fact, many of my teachers and textbooks referred to it as ''The War of Northern Aggression''. I was taught that at Appomattox (again only 45 minutes from my home), that Lee was a true gentleman, that Grant was a blubbering alcoholic. That Lee has emancipated his s ...
Patrick Edwards
Exodus 20:13
Introduction
I grew up in a white middle-class household in the suburbs of Richmond, Virginia. Both of my parents are college educated; my father an attorney and my mom stayed home until I was in third-grade. My parents were fairly progressive, I think, when it came to race. They had both grown up in rather racist households, and so they were very adamant any time I heard one of my grandfather's uses the N-word that I know that it was not only inappropriate, but hateful and not how I should think or speak. In other words, growing up I would have never considered myself a racist, but rather would have said, ''I care about all people and don't 'see' skin color.''
At the same time, however, my father is a big history buff and our house was covered in Civil War prints. (Keep in mind this was Richmond, Virginia in the late 80s/early 90s; the capital of the confederacy) We had paintings of Confederates all over the house; in fact, I am a descendant of Robert E. Lee on his mother's side. It is the reason my middle name is Carter. I am named after Lee's mother. Many a weekend was spent visiting Civil War battle sights across Virginia and up and down the mid-Atlantic. In fact, up until around age 10 I had a giant confederate flag hanging in my bedroom.
Now, again, keep in mind we were a ''progressive'' family so we knew how evil slavery was and how it was certainly a black eye on the South and the Confederacy. But the South was so much more than that. Oh how we fondly romanticized the ante-bellum South, watching classics like Gone with the Wind on family movie night. In school I was explicitly taught that the Civil War was all about economics; in fact, many of my teachers and textbooks referred to it as ''The War of Northern Aggression''. I was taught that at Appomattox (again only 45 minutes from my home), that Lee was a true gentleman, that Grant was a blubbering alcoholic. That Lee has emancipated his s ...
There are 21916 characters in the full content. This excerpt only shows a 2000 character sample of the full content.
Price: $5.99 or 1 credit
