TODAY IS the second anniversary of when anti-racists pulled the Confederate monument on UNC’s campus to the dirt, and Stone Walls is grateful to welcome a special guest-writer, Dawna Jones, to reflect on the occasion below. A lot has happened—and not happened—since.
Along with hundreds of other people, I was there that night (and some of the contentious days that followed) to bear witness in solidarity. Generations of brave student activists made that change necessary. And when exhausting the supposed proper channels proved not to work, again and again, as is so often the case, they made that change themselves.
I’ve had a chance to talk about the historical moment before, when interviewed as part of this episode for the “Re/Collecting Chapel Hill” podcast. So instead I’ll share a few images here from my phone that night.
Statue’s last peek out from its perch
Getting loaded onto the truck
The next morning, the backhoe loader that lifted the statue onto the truck with a piece of the strap workers used
One of the bandanas given out at the rally beforehand (this one to my daughter)
Two years later, the moments I remember best, aside from the statue’s crash, are from the rally beforehand: Maya Little calling for a monument on campus for James Cates, whom few outside of the local Black community knew about at the time; and Jerry Wilson and Cortland Gilliam placing nooses around their necks, pledging to wear them on campus until the Confederate monument was gone. Months later they put them on again when UNC announced a (later rejected) plan to build a $5 million center to house the statue.
I also recall the conversation I was having when Silent Sam hit the dirt. I was on the west side of the statue talking with Dawna Jones. We were discussing the many turns of events that night, and the brilliance of the activists. Then suddenly there was tugging and the rest became history.
Ms. Jones is Chair of the Carolina Black Caucus for UNC-Chapel Hill faculty and staff, works in Student Affairs as Assistant Dean of Students, and is Secretary of the Chapel Hill-Carrboro NAACP. She’s also one of those people so all-around impressive and dedicated you feel inspired to know her, and hope you can keep even a fraction of her pace. I asked if she wanted to pick up that conversation with her reflections on this anniversary. These are her wise words:
The more things change, the more they stay the same.
By DAWNA JONES
A week and a half after the confederate monument fell, I addressed the Carolina Black Caucus in my first act as its new chair. I recall telling the CBC body and invited guests that it was “quite a time to be stepping into the chair role.” When I picked up the microphone I knew everyone expected me to address the aftermath of the statue coming down. So I told them who they were getting as their chair: “I’m a Black woman and a social worker, which means I know how to make a way out of no way, and I’m always thinking about the people in the margins.” I was ready to build upon the legacy that was set before me, to make change and continue to be “the conscience” of UNC.
During the two years since, much work has been done by our caucus and allies. Campus advocates and activists have expressed and written many statements and demand letters, urging university leaders to better treat and protect us. In response, we have heard statement after statement filled with placations. Many protests were organized against a possible return of the monument to campus, against allowing and escorting known white supremacists on campus, against returning to offices and classrooms and residence halls amid a pandemic, etc. Countless poor decisions, such as the failed $2.5 million monument settlement, have been publicly lambasted by so many tired and frustrated people. Multiple university-wide commissions have been formed and subsequent recommendations have been made to leadership with slow progress on implementation.
Notable wins include the overturning of the settlement payout and the lifting of the moratorium on building renaming. These long fought battles were waged largely by student activists along with supportive community members, faculty, and staff. The student leaders rarely get the credit they deserve, but without them, these wins would not be possible. Their fortitude and audacity have pushed campus leaders when fear has left others silently relegated to the margins. I am so proud of the efforts of student activists, but this unpaid and underappreciated labor should not rest on their shoulders. It really should not rest on the shoulders of the UNC workers spending their lunch hours, evenings, and weekends fighting for progress either. Yet there is so much work to do. There has yet to be any real structural change.
The statue has remained down. But what we have not seen yet is an interrogation of the policies and processes that create and uphold racist and white supremacist structures on our campus. The small wins are great, but we can not celebrate for too long when we know that the lasting changes need to be made at the systemic level. The outcomes of many of our policies, and ineffective practices, disproportionately impact people of color and other underrepresented and marginalized groups. Consistently, CBC members tell me that they are experiencing microaggressions, unfair treatment in their departments, and emotional distress from the racial injustice and inequities across campus. They tell me that it is difficult for them to recruit Black students and workers to UNC because it feels like they are bringing them into harm’s way. I have supported many through the processes of contacting the Ombuds, Equal Opportunity and Compliance, and Human Resources, just to share in their disappointment when their situations “don’t rise to the level of policy violation.”
Moreover, we still have a significant divide between what staff and faculty are hearing on the ground versus what gets communicated to and by leadership. The University's response to COVID-19 has been a glaring reminder of that fact. What I have heard from housekeepers and other staff members has been wildly different from what is disseminated in meetings with administrators. The staff very much feel like an afterthought, if that, in any decision making.
We have not seen an extensive diversity report for the institution. We have not seen campus-wide data on the recruitment and retention strategies for faculty and staff across departments, which efforts are working or falling short. We have not seen data calling attention to departments with the largest number of complaints of discrimination or harassment and the measures those departments have made to improve. We have not seen how data from the climate surveys are being used to inform practices at every level of the institution. We have not seen the policies that fall short of protecting Black workers from toxic environments and racist supervisors dismantled and replaced with effective strategies. Just to name a few.
We haven’t had a “normal” first week of classes (FWOC) for a few years now. Two years ago, I watched on McCorkle Place as the confederate monument that stalked our campus for far too long came forcibly tumbling down from its pedestal. Last year we had Klansmen marching in Hillsborough and members of our community counter-protesting. This year we headed into FDOC overcome with the anxiety of COVID-19 and our most marginalized staff members feeling unheard and underappreciated still. It seems that the normal for FWOC now is the need for protest. The people doing this work are exhausted, self-included, and it feels like the more things change the more they stay the same.
SOURCES & CREDITS:
“Silent Sam toppled in protest the night before classes begin”: dailytarheel.com
“Howard students wore nooses in the 1930s as part of a protest effort. Now, these UNC students do, too.”: washingtonpost.com
“Why are graduate students often at the center of campus protests?”: dailytarheel.com
“Re/Collecting Chapel Hill” podcast
Further reading on James Cates by Mike Ogle
Silent Sam photos and video/gif: Mike Ogle
Dawna Jones headshot: Carolina Black Caucus