Correcting History
November 21, 2019
In the past few years there have been efforts by various concerned citizens to compensate in some way for some of the errors and injustices of history. Readers will know, for example, of some of the publicized instances connected to our Civil War. Removing statues, changing place names, adjusting school curriculums, etc., (at times vandalism—all for a good cause, of course,) were all actions intended to reduce attention to some of the regrettable features of our nation’s growth. Usually there is controversy associated with such actions, for there will be different views on the matters involved.
Minnesota, even blessed with our Minnesota nice, is still not that different from the rest of the world. Locally, many have worked to remove the name of the slave owner, John C. Calhoun, from a Minneapolis lake and roadways. A local college is removing the name of the school’s founder and first president from a college building. Patrick Henry High School changed its name when it was found out that the famous man had a rather exclusive idea of liberty. And recently Plymouth Congregational Church took down from its walls a tapestry showing some historical scenes which we no longer endorse, scenes involving pilgrims, native Americans and a ship bringing slaves to the Promised Land.
This particular tapestry is by a group of forty women who called themselves “The Needlers” and who met weekly over a seven-year period to meticulously plan, draw, and ‘crewel’ embroider each tapestry. The drawings for the tapestries were by the English artist, Pauline Baynes, who created the illustrations for the Narnia stories and the Tolkien story, Smith of Wootton Major. The Needlers, using a camera and a slide projector, planned out, square inch by square inch, a sixteen by twenty-five foot central hanging and smaller but still very big side panels. These hangings are remarkable and beautiful achievements, yet they have provoked argument and controversy because of certain scenes in the picture.
These particular scenes for some disqualify the tapestry from public display. That is not my view. Many think, and I am one of them, that they are not at all that harmful, and I hope that some way will be found to make them available for public display. These beautiful tapestries do not justify some form of retroactive censorship as perhaps does the name of a former slave owner, or an early Minnesota settler who founded a college, but who condemned native Americans, or any number of people who were voices of their time. But the years go on, new ideas are proposed, and new disputes arise while history moves on. There is, though, another contemporary situation which perhaps does merit some attention. In this case, maybe even Minnesota nice is at stake.
Roughly from 900 to 1200, terrible warriors from the Scandinavian countries invaded, pillaged, and burned their way up and down the coasts of England and western Europe. Nothing was safe. Families fled into the hills to watch their homes and towns go up in smoke. Those who did not move fast enough were slaughtered or taken as slaves back into the homelands of the invaders. For centuries these marauders terrified thousands. And yet today one of our state’s premier entertainment companies flaunts the name of those deadly raiders. What will future generations think when they look back at family photos and see us wearing clothes emblazoned with the flowing show-off mustaches and deadly white horns of Viking raiders? What will our grandchildren think of people who clapped for and cheered a team symbolized by the bad guys? What will history make of a state that had the comfortable blessing of Ole and Lena yet took pride in spreading the fame of ruthless men?