"Joe"

“Where I come from,” drawls a male voice with a heavy Southern accent, “we don’t take kindly to folks like you who don’t know their proper place.”

The figure of a man in a cowboy hat, obscured in shadow, takes a few steps toward the light. Its hand goes to its hip, as if to touch a holstered pistol.

“Where I come from,” the voice continues threateningly, “people like you had better watch what they say, if they don’t want to get into any trouble.”

A sandy-haired and mustached white man dressed in a cowboy hat, a button-down checkered shirt, tight blue jeans, and polished brown boots, steps out of the darkness into full visibility.

“Howdy,” he smiles with a chipper tone, drawing a candy bar out of his pocket and quickly unwrapping it to take a bite. “I’m Cotton-Eye Joe, your stereotypical racist white male caricature; and today, I’m going to be your guide on a trip through the Hall of Canards.” He motions with his candy bar-holding hand. “Follow me.”

You follow him down an exhibit hallway, full of lifelike wax figurines depicting various scenes.

Joe stops in front of the first exhibit as a spotlight comes on, illuminating a scene of a nervous-looking black man holding a bucket of KFC fried chicken, being followed by two Klansmen in costume, dangling nooses threateningly over his head.

“Now here’s canard number one,” says Joe, gesturing toward the scene with a jerk of his thumb. “The South is crawling with Klansmen, and black people fear for their lives walking down the street because these guys are everywhere.” He chuckles and shakes his head.

“Most Southerners have nothing to do with the Klan. In fact, a black person living in the South, or in any other state in the union, is statistically more likely to be threatened or killed by a black man than a white man, and certainly than to be lynched by a Klansman, which is about as rare an occurrence in the South today as a shotgun wedding or a duel.

“(Not to mention the fact that the few active relics of that infamous organization can be found in Midwest and Northern states also.)

Nevertheless, you’re sure to see this popular canard in Hollywood movies, comedy sketches, and alluded to by late night T.V. show hosts and by politicians of a particular party. It doesn’t matter that it’s absurd according to statistics and not at all a reflection of reality; what matters is that it’s familiar and sells books and movies.”

He moves on to the next exhibit, which features a portly, red-faced white preacher in a white button-down shirt and black suspenders holding a Bible over his head with a bellowing expression.

“Here we have the apoplectic white Southern Baptist preacher, a.k.a., the “Bible Thumper”,” says Joe, parking his hands on his hips with an amused smirk. “The dread and scorn of every Liberal in America---a poor, backward bigot who controls his congregation with the fear of God, and who is one biscuit away from meeting his Maker.

“While it’s true that you will find some folks like these in the Deep South, most Southerners are modest about their religion and not fire-breathing fanatics who want to beat the tar out of homosexuals and Liberals with the Good Book.

“Religion is more of a cultural thing in the South, like football and big Sunday dinners. People of all faiths---and no faith at all---reside in the South alongside Baptists and Pentecostals, and we all generally get along with common courtesy, even though our beliefs may differ.

“Some of those “religious nuts” are some of the nicest and most generous people you’ll ever meet. They might not agree with homosexuality or abortion, but they won’t run those who do down in the streets or turn them away if they need some neighborly help or Christian charity.

“Get to know them and find out what they believe and why. You might discover that they’re a lot more decent and reasonable than you think.”

Joe continues on to the next exhibit, munching on his candy bar. The spotlight comes on over a scene of a young white couple dressed in the attire of country bumpkins, the young man in overalls with no shirt underneath and the young woman in a frumpy, floral-patterned dress, and braided pigtails---both barefoot. They each have brown hair and brown eyes and share a facial resemblance and are holding hands and regarding each other in a lascivious way.

“Here we have one of the most infamous and hurtful canards,” says Joe grimly. “The incestuous Southern family. Brothers marrying sisters and cousins marrying cousins.

“According to Hollywood, the only thing Southern men like better than lynching black folks and getting drunk is molesting and marrying their daughters and relatives.

Now, any Southerner will tell you that that’s a hideous canard with no basis in reality in the present day. There was a time when marrying cousins of a certain degree was a common practice in the South, but it was common everywhere else during the same time period, in Europe as well as America.

“And incest and sexual abuse aren’t more common in the South in general than they are in any other region of the United States, statistically.

“But if you want to maliciously ruin the reputation of a person or a place, you can’t do much better than accusing them of being incestuous rapists.”

At the next exhibit, Joe removes his hat and lays it over his chest in dramatically solemn fashion as the spotlight illuminates a large hanging Confederate Flag.

“Ah, Old Dixie,” he says. “The cherished emblem of slavery and racism that waves over every magnolia tree-shaded veranda in the South.” He whistles the first few notes of “Dixie” and chuckles a little as he replaces his hat with a wink of one twinkling blue eye.

“Now any symbol you can find, from a cross to a red star, is going to have a variety of meanings to different folks,” he says. “One man’s symbol of cultural pride is another man’s symbol of oppression; and both can be right.

“The fact is, the Antebellum South wasn’t any different than any other culture or civilization in human history: It had its good qualities and its bad ones, and its people were multidimensional, as all people are. Most of the Southerners who fly Old Dixie aren’t celebrating the dishonorable things about their heritage, but the courage and unique culture of their ancestors, who fought and died for what they believed in, even if the cause wasn’t just. Dixie represents an elegant, genteel, chivalrous way of life, about as close to European aristocracy as the United States ever got.

“Yes, there was a lot of ugliness under its beauty, but there was and still is a lot of ugliness under every civilization and society past and present, including the ones history regards with the greatest esteem, like Greece and Rome and the empires of France, Spain and England.

“The Union Jack could be interpreted in the same way as the Stars and Bars by the descendants of those who suffered injustices under it, but that’s not what it represents to the British, and that’s not what they’re celebrating when they fly it.

Likewise for the Stars and Stripes and its associations for people of other nations. Some of those associations are favorable; some are not. It all depends on what it represents to the individual based on his or her perspective, whether a flag is offensive or not.

“Contrary to the stereotype, most Southerners don’t fly the Confederate Flag, and most of those who do aren’t racists or flying it as a symbol of racism. For them, it’s just a symbol of their heritage, which has its good qualities and its bad ones just like that of any other people. There was more to the Antebellum South than slavery, just as there was more to the British Empire than the Raj.

“If you want to know why the Southerners who fly the Stars and Bars fly it, the best thing to do is to ask them about it respectfully and listen to what they have to say. You might not come away agreeing with them, but at least you’ll understand their point of view. And understanding is the foundation of amicability, which we can all use more of in society, if I do say so myself.”

Joe leans back against the rail of the flag exhibit, tipping the brim of his hat back and hitching his thumbs through his belt loops. “Now I’d like to tell you a little about what things are really like where I come from,” he says.

(A bittersweet orchestral rendition of “Dixie” begins to play softly through the gallery speakers.)

“Where I come from, “Southerner” refers to everyone who lives in and shares the culture of the South, whatever their race happens to be, not just the white folks.

“People are friendly, sociable, and go out of their way to help their neighbors, regardless of their color or class.

“There are black folks who listen to country music and white folks who listen to R&B.

“Football unites and divides us more than the color of our skin.

“Respect and kindness are returned with the same.

“And while we have our various differences and are far from perfect, for the most part, we all do our best to get along.” He touches the brim of his hat and smiles. “Just like people where you’re from.” He winks and saunters away back into the shadows.