Chapter 17
“Give me four years to teach the children and the seed I have sown will never be uprooted.”
“Political Correctness is a doctrine fostered by a delusional illogical liberal minority and rabidly promoted by an unscrupulous liberal press which holds forth the proposition that it is entirely possible to pick up a turd by the clean end.”
Chuck Dixon’s twelve-year-old son Colton came home from school in tears and walked into the house with a manila envelope.
“Mom, they won’t let me put my ancestry poster in the Veterans Day display,” cried Colton.
“What?” Christy said, reaching for the sealed envelope. She ripped it open and scanned the enclosed letter, then pressed her lips together in a tight line.
Every year, Tennison Middle School celebrated Veterans Day by having students create a poster with a relative or ancestor who served or was serving in the military during peacetime or times of war. There was a large grassy area in the front of the school, which was located on a busy thoroughfare. During the week of Veterans Day, over twelve hundred posters made by the students honoring their relatives who were veterans were placed in the grass on stakes.
The twenty-five year Veterans Day tradition at Tennison was a moving experience for all those who walked around the grassy lawn to view the sea of patriotic, appreciative and proud posters made by individual students. There were incredibly moving stories, pictures, pieces of clothing and memorabilia on the students’ posters. During the week of the displays, traffic often stopped on the busy street because the parking lot could not hold the cars for people who wanted to participate.
Two years before, Chuck Dixon had taken his son to a non-political event sponsored by the Sons of Confederate Veterans. Members of the Dixon family fought on both sides of the Civil War, including two relatives who were in the same battle on opposite sides at the Battle of Fort Donelson, Kentucky. Chuck was proud of his heritage and wanted his kids to experience the same thing.
When Chuck got home from work that night, he couldn’t believe what he heard.
“Dad, the assistant principal said the Confederates committed treason and didn’t deserve to be honored on Veterans Day,” Colton explained.
“What? Since when is fighting for your independence treason? If that logic were true, then Washington, Jefferson, Hamilton and Henry were traitors,” Chuck told his son.
“I guess I have to make a different poster now.”
“Nope,” Chuck said emphatically, “we’ll get to the bottom of this, son, I promise.”
The next morning, Chuck drove Colton to school and parked in the teachers’ parking lot, just like he tried to do every day when he was in high school. He marched in with Colton and headed straight to the principal’s office.
After waiting for almost forty minutes, an assistant principal came and got them both. Colton motioned to his dad that this was not the person who told him the Confederates were treasonous.
Finally Chuck, Colton, the history department lead teacher, Assistant Principal Ms. Graham and Principal Mrs. Greeney were all seated.
Chuck got right down to business. “I understand you told Colton he can’t display his poster because he made the poster on one of our Confederate ancestors.”
“Mr. Dixon, we have a couple of problems with the poster. Do we want to excuse Colton?” asked Ms. Graham.
“No,” Chuck retorted, “I want him to hear this discussion.”
“Mr. Dixon,” Ms. Graham said stiffly, “we have a duty to be tolerant of all students, including those who may be offended by Colton’s poster.”
“How could they be offended?”
“The poster has a Confederate flag on it.” Ms. Graham was adamant.
“I don’t understand that.”
“Well, sir, we don’t allow hate symbols on our campuses.”
“That’s not a hate symbol,” Chuck insisted. “That’s the beloved flag of my ancestors.”
“Sir, we know you feel that way, but others feel it has other meanings.”
“Like what?”
“Well, it’s offensive to African-Americans.” Ms. Graham’s face and neck reddened.
“So,” Chuck said, “if a student came in wearing a Malcolm X or Cesar Chavez shirt, would you allow those?”
“Sir, the U.S. Navy just named a ship after Chavez.”
“I don’t see the relevance of that. Let’s just get the real reason out here right now.”
Principal Greeney had been quiet up until now. “Mr. Dixon,” she said patiently, “it’s no secret that many African-Americans consider this a hate symbol and associate it with the Ku Klux Klan and slavery.”
Having anticipated this logic, Chuck reached into his briefcase and pulled out his iPad, which was already loaded to the KKK website.
“Here is the main website for the KKK. What flag do you see all over this page?” Chuck asked as he flipped the screen around to show a very colorful website with hundreds of American flags on it.
“Do you see one Confederate flag?” Chuck asked.
The teachers were dumbfounded and just stared at each other.
The principal leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desktop, and spoke in a very measured response. “Well, sir, that is also irrelevant. The district has determined the Confederate flag is inflammatory and may incite violence in the schools, so we cannot allow it.”
“Okay, so if my son removes the Confederate flag on the poster, then he can display his poster?”
“No, sir. We do not recognize treasonous rebels on Veterans Day.”
“Treasonous? So, in your mind, Robert E. Lee, Jefferson Davis, and Stonewall Jackson were all treasonous?” Chuck was incredulous.
“Absolutely,” Principal Greeney said.
“So, if the definition of committing treason is to attempt to throw off a tyrannical government, wouldn’t you say George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Patrick Henry and all the founding fathers were also traitors?” Chuck continued to press his argument.
“Sir, I’m not going to get into an argument about history. My undergrad degree is in history. This is about district policy.”
“Do you know Congress approved the same burial rights for Confederate veterans? Did you know they passed the same veterans’ benefits for surviving Confederate veterans? Do you think they would do that for any person convicted of treason?” asked Chuck. “Do you know of ANY Confederate officer or enlisted man who was tried and convicted of treason? Did you, in your studies of history to get your undergrad degree, learn what the penalty for treason is?”
“Mr. Dixon, I’m not going to sit here and debate…”
“Mrs. Greeney, you have nothing to debate. Where did you get your undergrad degree in history?”
“Ohio State.”
“Well,” Chuck said a bit sarcastically, “that explains a lot, but it doesn’t explain your ignorance on this issue.”
“Mr. Dixon…” Mrs. Greeney tried again.
Chuck interrupted forcefully. “Mrs. Greeney, let me explain this to you in very clear terms. If you do not allow my son to display this poster, I will first contact the Southern Defense League, which legally pursues attacks on Southern heritage and not only will they sue the school and the district, but I will personally sue both of you for your intolerance and the anguish caused to my son.”
“Mr. Dixon! There is no…”
“Ladies,” Chuck said, standing up. “We are done. I’m sick and tired of people like you re-inventing history. You should be ashamed of yourselves. This is Texas, by God. We will have a temporary restraining order by Monday, and this poster you see right here will be on the school’s front lawn.”
“Mr. Dixon, there is no need to threaten anyone!” The principal was clearly alarmed.
“Mrs. Greeney, these are not idle threats. I promise you that there will be consequences if this school, this district or any of you subscribe to this intolerance of my son’s Southern heritage. I, for one, am sick and tired of what teachers’ unions have done to our educational system. One of the tenets of communism is to destroy national heroes. I bet you also teach these kids that Washington, Jefferson and Sam Houston abused slaves, and that the Civil War was fought over slavery.”
“Mr. Dixon, you are welcome to voice your opinion over lesson plans and curriculum to the district,” Mrs. Greeney said.
Placing his palms on the back of the chair he’d been sitting on, Chuck leaned forward. “Do either of you know who donated the land for this school? Is that history taught to these students?”
Mrs. Greeney and Ms. Graham cast quick, nervous glances at each other. They apparently didn’t have any idea where Chuck was going with this question.
When neither teacher offered an answer, Chuck continued, “Johnny Tennison was the first son of Irish immigrants who settled in Texas. He was a self-made cattle rancher, mercantile shopkeeper, and banker. He was also instrumental in bringing the railroad to this area. Did you know any of this? Is it taught to the students?”
“No, Mr. Dixon, if what you are telling us, in fact, is true, the students should know about the man or family the school was named for,” replied Mrs. Greeney.
Ms. Graham, who had largely been quiet for the last few moments, added, “Mr. Dixon, I’m not sure where you got that history lesson from, but the district has never shared that information.”
“How long have you both taught here?”
After another long glance at each other, Mrs. Greeney replied, “I have been here nine years and I believe Ms. Graham about four?”
Ms. Graham nodded agreement.
“How long would either of you have had to teach here to begin to wonder who Tennison Middle School is named after?” Chuck asked.
“Mr. Dixon, many of the schools in the district are named after educators. That was my assumption. I’ve never heard any different, nor has the district published any information regarding the naming of the school.”
“Well, maybe I should bring Mrs. Nessa Tennison over to meet the teachers and administrators who teach at the schools whose properties were originally donated by her grandfather. She is the granddaughter of Johnny Tennison, and she’s ninety-four.”
Seeing that the tension a few minutes earlier was easing somewhat, Mrs. Greeney responded, “Yes, we would love to know more about the history of the district and the schools.”
“Outstanding! I’m sure Mrs. Tennison would love to share the pictures and mementos she has kept all these years of her Grandpa Johnny’s service as a mounted cavalry soldier in Hill’s Texas Brigade. That brigade was one of the most decorated units in the Confederacy,” Chuck said. “You see, Miz Nessa—as we call her—has been to several of our Sons of Confederate Veterans’ meetings and shared a cool tintype of Johnny Tennison holding a Confederate battle flag.”
The two politically correct educators sat there, dumbfounded.
Chuck looked at his son. “Colton, I bet these ladies change their minds about your poster but, if they don’t, there will be some very nice gentlemen from Mississippi with law degrees coming to visit them in court.”
As Chuck turned to leave the small office, he said, “Ladies, you have just confirmed to me once again why this country is in so much trouble. Have a nice day.”