Last week, the Metro Council passed a bill honoring civil rights hero Diane Nash by naming the courthouse plaza after her — the plaza where she famously confronted Mayor Ben West and got him to admit that segregation is wrong.
This is such good news that I almost don’t know what more to say. We need to honor Nashvillians who improved the city. It’s lovely if we can find ways to do that while they are alive, and it is important that Nashville makes clear that these are our heroes — the people working for a more just and fair and loving society.
But I’ve also noticed a narrative coalescing around Nash and the Rev. James Lawson, who recently had a new high school named for him, framing them as a sort of Mother and Father of the Nashville Civil Rights Movement. I’m not about to downplay their importance, but there always has been a tension between this “history is made through the leadership of visionary individuals” perspective and the “history is made by regular people deciding on a course of action” perspective.
Both perspectives have their merits, but when you rely too much on the first perspective, you might believe that all Black people in Nashville were just quietly enduring injustice until the heroes arrived to save the day. In reality, desegregation efforts were already underway here. Activists had started the process of school desegregation (hence the 1957 Hattie Cotton Elementary bombing). Religious and community groups that were discussing ways to pressure Nashville to desegregate were already meeting (one of the factors in the 1958 Jewish Community Center bombing). In the decade before the 1960 bombing of Councilmember Z. Alexander Looby’s house — the impetus for the silent march that brought Nash face to face with West for that confrontation — newspapers reported more than 50 cross burnings in Davidson County. Things were already happening.
And yet, it is also true that Rev. Lawson’s arrival here and the workshops he held were an important catalyst for the civil rights movement. It’s also true that Diane Nash’s quick thinking and force of will changed the city and the country multiple times. She confronted the mayor. She refused to let the Freedom Rides end. She helped organize the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee. And even since leaving Nashville, she has continued to work for the cause.
We need to always keep both perspectives in view.
We need to keep these names — Diane Nash, James Lawson — and more in the forefront of the city’s conscience. Not because they were extraordinary in ways we could never hope to be, but because they believe that they are not unique. The work they do is doable by crowds of ordinary Nashvillians. That is, in fact, who has been doing it all along.
