I’m thankful that heritage isn’t the same as destiny. Heritage is getting its moment in the sun now that there’s a lot of attention on Confederate statues and what should be done with them, if anything. Some towns have already removed statues from their places of prominence, and some prefer moving them to a museum instead of outright destruction. Others are protesting their removal, given their association and desire to identify with the historical significance of the statues. There is no unified approach given the political tension of our current times, and even family members of very prominent Confederate heroes believe it’s time to remove them. So there is a wide range of perspectives.

At the crux of the issue, I believe, is the value and importance we place on our heritage and how that aligns with our sense of identity. I’m convinced our approach to the topic of Confederate statues is rooted in how we process our history (whether ancestral or cultural) and what we believe the individuals represented by stone and metal mean to us and the tribe we most connect to. From this angle, I’m convinced that a sense of humility and an honest recognition of where we come from is necessary to navigate the debate.

First, I must remember that I didn’t choose my parents, where I was born, what year I was born, or into what circumstances I was born. I also didn’t choose my ethnicity, my DNA, my siblings, or my personality. So from the beginning, before I even knew I had a beginning, forces that shape my future were aligning to nudge me forward in a trajectory that I did not choose. I’ve sometimes joked with my mom that I just have to trust that she’s my mom since I don’t remember my birth. I’ve never had any reason to doubt her love or best intentions for my life, but this joke helps remind me that the choices I make going forward are more in my control than anything that happened at my birth. Thinking I hit a triple (if I was really born on third base) is a prideful, self-centered, and privileged way of looking at the world.

Second, I choose how much of my current identity is based in and influenced by my heritage. There is an ever-growing awareness of ancestry and there are more tools and information available today to help piece our ancestral history together, if that’s important to you. You could find out you’re a descendant of English nobility, a slave, a slave trader, a Founding Father, a European immigrant, an Asian immigrant, a prisoner of war, or millions of other possibilities. Whatever our story, it is unique and precious to us and we choose how we relate to those facts. I believe I’m a descendant of European immigrants from both my father’s and mother’s side, but I’ve not committed to memory when they arrived in America or under what circumstances. Maybe one of these days I’ll spend some time learning more about my heritage, but the level of pride I associate with my heritage is my choice alone.

Third, I choose what elements about my heritage I select to remember and emphasize. No one is perfect, and each of us is a mix of intentions, misunderstandings, and strength of memory. I may remember more pleasant experiences from my formative years and have a completely different recollection than a sibling who stood next to me and has a much different memory. If either of us chooses to erect a statue of the moment, figuratively speaking, it’s very likely that another person who experienced the same event may be bothered by the emphasis and importance the statue represents. If one sibling remembers their parent as more abusive than loving, I wouldn’t be surprised if they have fewer family pictures on their wall than the sibling who remembers (or chooses to emphasize) the parental love. If I choose to put pictures on my wall, please don’t take it personally if you relate to them differently. The challenge comes when we move from individual homes to public spaces, and the collective meaning in a democratic republic. Personally, I’ve found that processing and making peace with my past is necessary in order to healthfully move forward, and statues tend to burden my present by focusing on my past instead of helping to animate my future.

I’m sure there are more principles we can glean from thinking about heritage, ancestry, and our memories, but this is how I’m currently processing the topic of heritage and Confederate statues. There are plenty of sources that more accurately represent the diversity of explanations why and when the statues were built, giving an important context for how to move forward, so I don’t intend to explore that aspect. At the most basic level, our statues represent us. How we engage with them represents us and what we consider important. I believe that statues can unfortunately be treated like idols, and I’m very cautious about elevating any pile of stone or metal or wood to a level above what I think it deserves. And there is also diversity in where we draw the line between treating something like a statue or an idol.

The Apostle Paul, when he was writing to the church in Corinth about Israel’s history and highlighting certain warnings, wrote that all things are lawful (or permissible) but not everything is profitable (or loving). Not everything in the past deserves to continue to be held in high regard, even if the event had ultimate importance in another time and context. Not everything in the past, even if it was profitable and meaningful then, continues to exemplify love and is profitable today. We do not live in an ‘always and forever’ world, no matter how much we’d like to avoid change. Sometimes something needs to come down so that something more important can be built up.

I’d like to believe that we can focus more on building something profitable than what might be removed. Are we building a nation and community based on love and hopeful common experience, or are we holding onto a past that represents abuse to a growing portion of our nation? Even Robert E Lee believed that erasing visible signs of civil war helped nations recover from conflict quicker. So let’s choose a more loving future instead of keeping division alive. Our destiny is based in the choices we make.