A Letter Regarding Changing the Name of REL High (From June 2018)

Dear Ladies and Gentlemen of the Tyler ISD Board: My name is David Dickerson; I am a life-long resident of Tyler, a parent of students here, and the product of a TISD education, myself. Like just about everyone else in our city, I have an opinion regarding the potential renaming of Robert E. Lee High School. Let me begin by disclosing that I am a white male, and a graduate of Lee from 1990. Demographically, that puts me in the company of many influential Tylerites who are no doubt filling your email inboxes with messages urging you to “protect our history,” etc. For some reason, many of my colleagues—especially those who share my culture and tint of skin—are vehement that we continue to honor General Lee with the name of one of our large schools. I note that very few of my vocal classmates from the 1990s were the least bit interested in history when it was being taught AT Lee high, nor are they particular students of that field, now, aside from being in their mid 40s, and picking up a bit of history from being alive. It does not bother them in the slightest that the Lee name was historically chosen as a thumb-in-the-eye to the Black community in East Texas, and to the Federal Government, both of whom were forcing changes to how we set about educating young people in the South back when the school was named. Of course, nothing about the Lee name is alarming to them—nor was it to me when I attended the school. I never gave a second of critical thought as to why we went to a school named after a Confederate General who had no ties to our community. Lee was Lee to me—the Confederate flag was a symbol of rebellious fun for me and my white classmates, and we knew little-to-nothing about the war between the states. We also never asked a single black person what any of that might have meant to them. What can I say? We were oblivious to that chapter of our collective past, as well as to the benefits we all enjoyed because of that past. We were not educated, nor informed, and certainly not wise or loving. I thank God that we are not frozen at age 18 in our knowledge, understanding, our wisdom, or our love. Thankfully, we can grow and become better versions of ourselves. I say all of that because, in the 28 years I have lived since leaving REL, I have learned about our history, and I have become more wise, and loving, towards my fellow men and women. I have learned the benefits that come with asking critical questions instead of merely accepting things as they are, and asking how my preferences might be understood by people who do not share my culture and perspectives, nor the benefits I enjoy because of those birthrights. Now, it falls to each of you to ask critical questions, and to make a hard stand to do what is best for all of the students you are charged with caring for. I firmly believe that, were we naming our high school today rather than during the tumultuous times when the Lee name was first chosen, we would certainly not consider honoring a Confederate General with no ties to our community. There is simply no justifiable reason to honor him. Doing so is divisive in this community made up of so many families with such a variety of cultures and experiences. And now is the time to change the name—the new building will have new signs, anyway, and putting off making the change will be nothing but a waste of money. You, ladies and gentlemen of the board, are more knowledgeable than our grandfathers were about the role race and culture play in individual experiences of our community. You are more understanding than they were about your role as stewards of the educational experience of our children. You have the chance to show that you (we) are more wise and—most importantly—more loving than our grandfathers in our care for the experiences of the myriad of students who will walk the halls of the new high school, even those long after we are but faint memories to those students (as the board members who first named the school are to us, today). By the way, the name of the school is not a matter of majority rules—all the white-skinned people I know can have no problem with the Lee name, and can want to protect their personal history (“I went to Lee, and that is good enough for my kids!”), but those attitudes completely ignore the complex cultural environment we share with our fellow citizens, and ignored this moment of history that we occupy, today. Fortunately, I believe that you all enjoy a higher perspective than many of my former classmates on the whole issue. I am thankful to each of you for your service to our community, and for you taking the time to read this lengthy email. Know that there are many of us in this community who understand the difficult position you are in, and who will stand up and defend you once the name is changed. Sincerely yours, David Dickerson