Americans Who Tell the Truth
“In a time of universal deceit, telling the truth is a revolutionary act.” — Unknown
Last week, an extraordinary art show opened in Lewiston, Maine. Maine Artist Robert Shetterly’s roughly 260 portraits of Americans Who Tell the Truth are being displayed at Bates Mill until December 15 (35 Canal Street, Lewiston, for those of you who are local). On Saturday, a friend and I went to the exhibit.
I like things of great beauty and also things of deep meaning. Extra points if the great beauty and deep meeting converge in one piece. Even so, I am not usually much of a museum goer. I get filled up with ocular indigestion too fast, my feet start to hurt from standing around, and I get crabby. Usually. But this particular exhibit had a profound effect on me. I lift it up here as One Good Thing. A very good thing indeed.
I first became aware of the Americans Who Tell the Truth project several years ago, when the Rev. Brad Mitchell, Minister Emeritus of the congregation I was serving, gave me a poster of Robert Shetterly’s portrait of (the aptly named!) Sojourner Truth. That’s when I learned that Shetterly had embarked on a project he hopes will help safeguard democracy. By portraying American truth-tellers and including a provocative quotation of theirs on the portrait, he invites the viewer to ponder the thoughts of someone who cares deeply about the world and its inhabitants.
You can view Shetterly’s portraits along with information about his subjects here: Americans Who Tell The Truth
I am not sure exactly how Robert Shetterly picks his subjects. They range from President Dwight Eisenhower to John Lewis to Susan B. Anthony to Rev. William Barber to Pete Seeger to Walt Whitman to Mark Twain to Stacey Abrams to Rachel Carson and onwards, north of 250 more. Obviously Shetterly is a student of both history and current events. His subjects are all people who, in Shetterly’s mind, speak (or spoke) the truth as they see it — and often in a hostile culture and landscape. It seems to me that by portraying those extraordinary people and including a provocative quotation of theirs on the painting, Robert Shetterly is also engaged in his own truth-telling. That’s the thing about truth-telling: We do it in the ways that come most easily and naturally to us, whether it’s writing, creating works of art, composing and playing music, organizing action groups, or joining marches and protests.
Truth is a vanishing value and a rare commodity in today’s world where people with nefarious, selfish goals create disinformation and rely on social media to ably amplify it. I probably don’t need to tell you how I feel about a presidential candidate who, just a couple of weeks ago, won an election because he lied and lied and lied about himself, his opponent, and, most grievously, about members of the American population who are vulnerable: LGBTQ+ people, people of color, immigrants, women. And I probably don’t need to tell you how I feel about the social media and right-wing media that spread his lies with wild abandon or the mainstream media that normalized his actions and words. Against that shameful, deceitful backdrop, the Americans Who Tell the Truth exhibit is a poignant and thought-provoking corrective indeed. There, displayed in portrait after portrait, were people who took real risks to speak what felt right to them in their hearts and souls. How amazing to have their stories and examples lifted up at a time when truth-telling is both increasingly scarce and, consequently, more important than ever.
I can’t say for sure, but my guess is that most of the people whose portraits are on display never started out with the goal of being a truth-teller, of speaking truth to power, of summoning the bravery required to express what was right, even when back-lash might have been guaranteed. Probably circumstances led them to the point where they felt compelled to speak. They witnessed or experienced things they simply could not be silent about. And they spoke.
And, you know, any one of us can be compelled to be a truth-teller in similar fashion. We may witness or experience things that make us unable to stay silent. If and when that happens, we can lean on the example of the bravery of those who have gone before us, those who have used their words and voices to right wrongs, to expose duplicity, to provide necessary course corrections.
What truth will I need to speak in the days ahead? What will be your truth? As you think about that, I encourage you to spend some time looking at the Americans Who Tell the Truth website. (And, if you live near Lewiston, Maine, make a point of visiting the exhibit.) Read about the brave people Shetterly portrays. Study their portraits — especially their eyes, which Shetterly brings to life so stunningly. Ponder what moved them to speak. Draw inspiration from them. Receive the kind of nourishment those who have gone before us can give so meaningfully.
When the time comes, when the situation demands it of us, I hope we can all find our messages and our bravery and speak.
Love,
Sylvia
Meant to share I did go and spend time with all the voices and images in this exhibit.
I loved how these images often leapt off the canvas with such clarity; it felt as if they were right in front of me.
Their words were varied: in topic and tone. Yet there was a theme of persistence, of caring, of humanity.
Thanks for letting us know of this opportunity. I’ll go again, on line. Meanwhile, here are a couple of moments (among many) that inspired me.
Bless your One Good Thing and you, who “am one good gal.”
Thanks to both Maryli and Sylvia for your encouragement. We’ll go!