Confederate statues obscured Lexington’s Black history. Now we can celebrate it.

I never intended to elevate myself to even the most meager levels of notoriety when this movement began. The fact that I am writing this reflection, five years later, is proof that I failed in that regard. My initial hesitation to step into the moment should not be construed as virtuous though. The reluctant hero motif is a misnomer. Anyone that makes the decision to fight for justice must do so enthusiastically. You can be reluctant to begin but to truly do something special you have to sell out completely for your cause.

When DeBraun Thomas first came to me wanting to highlight Cheapside, I was pleasantly surprised. Very few really cared to discuss this large piece of history smack dab in the middle of the city. The statues, the slave auction block, it was all taboo. Even though folks didn’t speak about it, the atrocities committed in that space and by the men honored with those monuments lingered in the air. Time had literally cemented these figures into our lives, the Confederate soldiers’ aims obscured just enough to render prominence in our public square and public discourse. For a long time we were among a small few that thought these behemoths could be supplanted, having their history properly contextualized without uplifting it. Many more question whether or not that the pursuit was even necessary.

Our goal was daunting but we were executing a well laid plan. It was looking like I could achieve my goal of a successful campaign and relative anonymity until August 2017. When Aug. 12, 2017 started I had no idea that I would be sucked into history’s gravitational pull. All of a sudden there were interviews, live press conferences and high profile coverage. I had to adjust.

The period of time between that day and Oct. 17, 2017, when the statues came down, flows like one single day for me. Before that time frame our movement, while extremely effective, had operated under the radar of even many in our city. We were on the precipice of our first victory but there was only a small number of us and we still had some much work to do. We had done our work until then consistently, quietly and thanklessly. The Unite the Right rally was a pivot point not only for the nation but for our movement, on a very intimate level.

Some of our best friends and prominent folks in our movement went to Charlottesville to support. A couple of them witnessed the heinous act perpetrated against Heather Heyer. That same afternoon our then Mayor announced that Lexington would be taking steps to move its monuments from our downtown square pending a city council vote. The unfortunate consequence of that action was putting our movement in the crosshairs of a burgeoning Neo-Nazi movement. The United the Right white supremacists, high on their perceived victory in Charlottesville, headed to Lexington. They intended to facilitate the suspension of the decision made by the Mayor through chaos, force and fear.

By the following Monday they had infiltrated the city and were staking out activist hang-outs. Many of the most infamous figures from iconic Charlottesville photographs were now stalking the streets of my city, looking for my co-laborers, looking for DeBraun, and looking for me. They eventually found my home. Many community members stepped in to provide protection and support. I am forever indebted to them. The supremacists recoiled. There would be no victory in Lexington.

The day the statues came down was so beautiful. I will never forget the feeling of elation watching these mammoths be removed from their pedestal. Removing their literal physical weight and the weight they hold over our healing has already paid dividends. It is not lost on me that the square is now named after Henry A. Tandy, a renowned builder and bricklayer. The process of making that space anew will far outpace our movement but it has begun already.

Five years is an interesting measure of time. It is simultaneously a snap of a finger and an elongated exile of reflection. My sensibilities have evolved. In many ways the smashing of the veneer of white supremacy leaves us to deal with the mundane machinations that keep it afloat. One thing remains true though, Take Back Cheapside was a historic movement that can be learned from and built upon in Lexington and beyond.

Our moment is different now. The stakes have never been higher. While we honor this special anniversary we can’t forget that the work must continue.

Russell Allen is an organizer and artist based in Lexington, and a co-founder of the Take Back Cheapside movement.