FOR YEARS, the defining words of Chapel Hill and UNC, delivered in Charles Kuralt’s folksy baritone, have been these:
“What is it that binds us to this place as to no other? It is not the well or the bell or the stone walls. … No, our love for this place is based on the fact that it is, as it was meant to be, the university of the people.” — Charles Kuralt, University of North Carolina bicentennial, 1993
Kuralt’s voice seemed to descend from the bell tower and reverberate off those stone walls as it rang out in university ads. Countless people can now imagine his words echoing between their ears with the slightest conjuring.
They became UNC’s soundtrack. And they swelled many of us with pride. The notion Kuralt expressed wasn’t new; that version of the truth had been in place for the better part of a century. But for some, the narrative implied by “university of the people” has never rung true.
The knee-high stone walls around UNC and Chapel Hill are evocative images. They have been replicated as an aesthetic throughout the town for two centuries. But as is the case with many things that bind people to the place, their symbolism hides half the story.
Enslaved people built the early stone walls that became a defining feature for the town. They and their descendants, many of whom have lived nearby for generations, were long excised from the history and promise of this place.
The Stone Walls newsletter aims for an unobstructed view of that history.
AS THE FIRST public university in America to open its doors, UNC and the town born alongside it got head starts in both their entrenchments with slavery and white supremacy, and in papering over truth by cultivating a reputation for apparent white liberalism. Such veneers are a common feature of college towns. They obscure realities just beneath the surface.
Chapel Hill has long and loudly told a certain story about itself. It did so even while generations tightly embraced Jim Crow. Its progressive veneer has remained thick enough for a hundred years and counting to allow people to ignore realities beneath. What Paul Green, the celebrated playwright and local liberal icon, said during Jim Crow could still apply:
The university is like a lighthouse which throws a beam out to the far horizons of the South, yet is dark at its own base.
Although Kuralt’s voiceover might have had the sound of a self-evident truth decreed from high above, his words were a rhetorical flair — and then act of marketing — from a singular perspective.
We’ll get to Kuralt in a later post, but one thing that should be known is that as a UNC student, he did not share a dormitory, classroom, or even the campus of the “university of the people” with a single Black undergraduate. There were none.
Suffice to say, the reputation of this place presumes a generosity of spirit toward Black people that does not match practice. The narrative provides comfort to white liberals, but it doesn’t align with the lived experiences of those who have not had much say or power. With this newsletter, I am using my platform and resources to tell historical stories, as best I can, that center unheard people.
White people have to unlearn what we thought we knew about this place. We need to get a bit uncomfortable looking in the mirror. Without honestly facing the truth of the past and present, all the people can’t improve the future.
SOME THINGS to know about Stone Walls and its author:
I understand the implications and complications inherent in being yet another white man telling stories of others. Even when well intentioned, such stories have typically centered whiteness and white saviors. This will not be that.
I take that responsibility seriously. I do not presume to speak for anybody. Nor do I endeavor to do so. But I will try my informed best to think and write from angles too often ignored, and to lift up the perspectives of the less heard. I have access to and knowledge of this history, and I intend to widen its imprint. To those who have lived it, keep me accountable when I’m wrong.
To start, I have a list of 50 potential topics for posts, and that’s before current events intervene. Some posts will tackle defining myths and symbols about this place. Many will shed light on lesser-known stories.
Some posts will be deep dives. Others might be newsy, with information on relevant happenings in the area or context on current events.
I am a journalist by training. My storytelling and practices reflect that fact, even as I have adopted some methods more in tune with historical research. I aim to cite evidence and credit sources as appropriate. If I fall short, or I get something wrong, let me know.
You can learn more about me on the Stone Walls About page.
I do not hate Chapel Hill nor hope to damage it. I hope to make it stronger. Countless many have recorded their love for this place, including myself. Praise has been in full-bloom for centuries. I am a fan of UNC’s athletes, despite the exploitative nature of college sports that I hope will change soon. I am proud of the university, despite its deep faults. UNC is more than its boards of governors or trustees, or South Building. Nothing solidified that feeling more than the night Silent Sam fell. The generations of activists who made that moment possible are this place too. The visionaries who have pushed this place to be better — going back to those enslaved like George Moses Horton and November and Wilson Caldwell, to those shut out like Pauli Murray — are this place too.
I hope that this place can evolve. Is that possible? It starts with listening to what’s been obscured.
SOURCES & CREDITS:
Charles Kuralt speech: https://blogs.lib.unc.edu/… and https://video.unctv.org/… (11:30 mark)
Paul Green quote: The Free Men by John Ehle (2007 edition), page 284 [note: Ehle appears to be paraphrasing Green rather than quoting him exactly.]
All photos: Mike Ogle
Banner photograph and design: Mike Ogle