To the Editor:
When I was growing up in El Dorado, Ark., in the 1950s and early 60s, my most frequent playmate was a neighbor who was a few years younger than I.Often, we would take a 10-minute walk downtown to shop for toys at the three dime stores that practically surrounded the Courthouse Square and its Confederate statue. Sterling on Washington Street was the first one we checked out; F.W. Woolworth on East Main was next; and finally there was McCroy’s on the corner of Jefferson and Main.
One summer day before we left McCroy’s to walk home, we each wanted a cold drink of water. I headed to the nearest fountain and took a drink. My shocked friend said, “Oh, look,’ pointing to that horror sign on the wall and above the fountain: “COLORED.” I quickly replied, “Bill, it’s just water. Get a drink, and let’s go.” “I can’t do it,” he anxiously responded and walked to a farther part of the store to consume the “WHITE” water.
On the way home, Bill kept looking up at me, finally asking, “How do you feel? Do you feel kind of funny?” I tried to explain that water was water and that it came from the same source, but I never convinced him. He knew I had done wrong. Actually, I had. Was it right for me to drink from any fountain of my choice without punishment? What would have happened had an AfricanAmerican taken a drink from a “WHITE” fountain? Ejected? Jailed? Fined? Beaten?
I recognized, even at such a young age, that I had been really lucky to have been born “White” instead of “Colored.” At some point, you can pick your own religion or no religion, but some things are freaks of nature. You can’t pick your natural mother or father; your blood type; your sex; your gender identification; whether you’re straight or gay; the country, region, state, county, or city you’re born in; whether you’re born into wealth, middle income, or poverty; whether you’re white or some other race or ethnic group.
I was certainly aware of the White privileges that I had. I could go to the Rialto or Majestic movie theaters whenever I wanted; try on any clothes I fancied at Samples Department Store; go to any restaurant, like Woody’s Grill, that I or my parents desired; and stop at any motel that my family chose.
The Confederate statue in downtown El Dorado is a monument to white supremacy. It’s embarrassing and sends a negative signal to everyone living here and anyone visiting from outside our county such as those attending our many wonderful artistic festivals. As a lifelong student and teacher of history, I suggest that an ideal site for relocating the statue might be the green space between the two buildings of the South Arkansas Historical Preservation Society, 412 East Faulkner Street. National-Parkquality signs should be placed around it providing proper historical perspectives.
David Offutt, El Dorado