Joel Chandler Harris defies racial tensions in Jim Crow south

ATHENS, Ga. -- Brer Rabbit plots his revenge on Brer Bear and the other forest creatures, changes racial relations in the south, and puts a cap on stereotypes all before bedtime.
Assistant English professor Amanda Gailey’s speech “Race and Gender in Children’s Literature of the Gilded Age (1865-1909)” Friday afternoon compared the works of Mark Twain and Joel Chandler Harris, exploring the racial and gender-bent implications of both authors’ works and their relationships with their illustrators. While Harris has all but disappeared from the literature studied in schools across America, his bravery in resisting the mob-terrorism implemented by whites across the country shortly after the Civil War exhibits his open-mindedness and respect for those of all colors and creeds, even in a Jim Crow middle Georgia.
“We are not proud of this legacy, but, arguably, that’s why we need to study it,” the Oklahoma native said while sipping her hot coffee.
Joel Chandler Harris was deemed a racist by his critics, while Mark Twain was given the benefit of the doubt, with scholars deeming his works as “sophisticated critique of racism.” Twain’s tales of young white boys going out on endless adventures, escaping the domesticity and femininity of home do not serve as brave an attack on racism as Harris, according to Gailey. In fact, Harris’ embrace of the home-life lifestyle and his humanization of black characters in his stories offered him the chance to develop a platform of tolerance and respect between the races.
Gailey cites Harris’ magazine Uncle Remus Home Magazine as another source for Harris’ heroic efforts to curb racism in the Jim Crow south. Using A.B. Frost as his illustrator over renowned E.W. Kemble, illustrator of Twain’s novel The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Harris was able to soften racial stereotypes of African Americans. While Kemble’s illustrations were those of opossum hunts and blacks with enlarged lips and eyes, Frost used a more dignified approach to his illustrations, giving African Americans subtle features and making them seem more realistic than Kemble. Kemble’s blatant racism is prevalent in his illustrations, and Harris’ choice of Frost gave African Americans a distinguished picture in society, which Harris hoped would improve race relations within his reader base.
Harris’ feministic and domestic approach to his stories, magazine, and illustrations are, according to Gailey, why so few Americans recognize this author’s contribution to society. His welcoming and nurturing style attempts to limit the loss of “social alternatives to etiquette” that happened to children as they grew up in this period. The love for an African American caregiver quickly faded in the forthcoming years as children began to be taught by their parents who to respect, and who not to respect.
“Man has no business to outlive his youth,” Gailey explains. “The retention of youth is key for possibility.”
So maybe next time you curl up to read your children their bedtime stories, you can let imaginations run in Technicolor, instead of black and white.