[April 16th
marks the 150th anniversary of aviation pioneer Wilbur Wright’s birth. So this
week I’ll AmericanStudy a handful of key moments and figures in aviation
history, leading up to a weekend post on the Wright Brothers themselves!]
Why we
need to continue working to remember a particularly impressive group of
American aviators.
I don’t
see many movies in theaters these days (something about the two blockbuster
action films of mine that take up most of my free time, and with whom I do tend
to see any theatrical releases I get to), and so I’m not usually very invested
in which ones do well and which don’t. Moreover, my general fan boy frustration
with George Lucas over his increasingly mercenary endeavors with the Star
Wars franchise, one of this AmericanStudier’s
foundational childhood texts, during the final years of his ownership of
that film property before the sale to Disney made me even less likely to root very
hard for a Lucas film to succeed. Yet despite those factors, I’ll freely admit
that I was hoping for much bigger box office performance and buzz for Lucas’s
most recent movie, 2012’s Red Tails, a
historical action film based on the lives and World War II experiences of the Tuskegee Airmen.
It’s
important to note, as that hyperlinked Tuskegee Airmen website does in its
opening description, that African American soldiers have been a part of every
U.S. military effort; since Harry Truman
desegregated the army after World War II, in 1948, it’s
fair to say that the Tuskegee Airmen were thus in one sense not pioneering but
rather culminating, the final impressive African American service in the face
of a segregated and circumscribed military role. But in other important ways
the Airmen did represent a significant step forward: created as
a result of extended pressure and work by African American civil rights and
media organizations and allies, the squadron performed prominently and
heroically, contributing directly to the changed climate that made Truman’s
actions possible at all. In many crucial senses, then, the Airmen’s legacy is overt
and indisputable, whether our national narratives or histories do full justice
to their efforts and impacts or not.
Yet as
anyone who has read this blog for more than a couple minutes knows, I think
more full and accurate national narratives and histories are pretty important
too. Partly that’s just because the Airmen deserve to be better remembered, to
have their contributions recognized for the amazingly meaningful American
histories and stories they were and are. Partly it’s because our national
narratives about African Americans still
tend to break down into either victims (of slavery, of Jim Crow, of racism in
general, and so on) or threats (too many contemporary narratives to cite, but
here’s one good
example), and the Airmen provide a welcome alternative to either role. And
partly it’s because they offer all of us a rare and crucial combination: the
opportunity to remember with more accuracy and complexity some of our more
painful American histories, and at the same time to be inspired by the best of
what America has been and can be. Lucas may
have stated that second point most clearly when he said that young black kids
“have a right to have their history … made corny and wonderful just like
anybody else does.” Word, George.
Unfortunately
Red Tails didn’t do as well as it
should have (yet—it can and hopefully will have an extended post-theatrical
afterlife), so that important American work continues. Next aviation
history tomorrow,
Ben
PS. What do you
think? Other aviation histories you’d highlight?
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