The cancellation of a planned exhibit of protest art from last year’s demonstrations against the ending of collective bargaining by public workers made news last week. It was interesting news to come home to, as I had just spent the week in Birmingham, Alabama for a WPT client project. While there, with just an hour to kill before my flight out, I went on the city’s Civil Rights Heritage Walking Tour. It gave me some time to think about how communities present their stories of challenging times.
Few would disagree that the legislation and the protests it inspired in Wisconsin were historic. But that’s truly more of a prediction than a judgment. The journalistic cliche that “only time will tell” applies to what story ultimately is told about that tumultuous time at the state Capitol.
The timing of the exhibit was challenging, and critics argued that in the midst of a recall election, it wasn’t appropriate for a state-funded organization to be sponsoring an exhibit of political messages. That argument won the day.
Objectivity, of course, is not the goal of art, and the exhibit was intended as an art show. History is another matter. While historians’ objectivity can be disputed, their claims at least must be rooted in evidence, and stand up to peer review and scholarly scrutiny.
In Birmingham, they are telling the difficult history of racial injustice through a walking narrative that follows the path of protest. Starting at the 16th Street Baptist Church, site of a racially-motivated bombing that took the lives of four young African American girls, information kiosks spread over a six block route recounting the struggles and strategies of Birmingham’s defiant Black population.
It’s interesting to note that even in my lifetime public consensus would not be universal over the justice of this cause. But today, it is an accepted narrative that has no qualms about identifying villains. “The Bad Guy” reads a placard devoted to Bull Conner, the aggressive police commissioner who ordered the use of water cannon on protestors, even children.
Doubtless, Conner was a hero to some in his day. And I wondered if the fixation on Conner might let those silent supporters off the hook. But I left Birmingham very impressed. I knew little of the city, except those black and white images of protesters being fire-hosed or attacked by police dogs. The city has owned up, and taken ownership of that dark history that it takes rightful pride in overcoming.
What will the narrative be around the 2011 Wisconsin protests? Give it another forty years to tell.

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