Birthdays are special. Having just hit the dubious milestone
of 50 last month, the feeling is fresh for me. But on July 31, Franklin turned 47 years old and it’s cause
not only to celebrate, but to recall how he came to be in the first place.
Franklin is the African-American boy that Charles M. Schulz
introduced to his famous Peanuts comic strip in 1968. It’s fair to say Franklin
has aged well. Or, well, not at all.
But the story of how young Franklin came to be in Schulz’s
world famous comic strip alongside the likes of Charlie Brown, Linus, Snoopy
and Lucy is not one I knew before reading an article in the Washington Post
last week. The author, Post
columnist and cartoonist Michael Cavna, did a spectacular job.
“I Needed to Do
Something”
In the article, Cavna tells the story of how Franklin was
born from the political upheaval and strained race relations of the 1960s. He
was the idea of a retired teacher living in Los Angeles named Harriet Glickman.
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| Courtesy Peanuts Worldwide |
Glickman, who is alive and well at 88-years-old today, knew
kids. In addition to teaching, she had three children of her own. She knew the
power of comics to kids. She also knew that black and white kids didn’t
necessarily visualize themselves as being in the same classroom.
In the article, she explained that after the April 4, 1968
assassination of Martin Luther King she felt shaken and overwhelmed. She felt
like she had to do something.
She did.
On April 15, Glickman wrote to Charles Schulz and asked him
to consider using the wide reach of his popular comic strip to introduce a
black child and show to the world that we can all actually get along. She began
her heartfelt, poignant letter as follows:
“Since the death of Martin Luther King, I’ve been asking
myself what I can do to help change those conditions in our society which led
to the assassination and which contribute to the vast sea of misunderstanding,
fear, hate and violence.”
Her letter was kind, direct and respectful. She knew Schulz
had no obligation to do anything, but she clearly hoped he would like the idea.
And, in fact, he did.
On April 26 Schulz wrote Glickman back thanking her. He said
it was a good idea, but he could not do it. He explained that he and other
cartoonists would like to include a black character (“Negro” as he stated in
his letter), but he feared that it would come across as patronizing to blacks. (To view images of the original letters between Glickman and Schulz, see the Washington Post story.)
He concluded his letter to Glickman writing, “I don’t know
what the solution is.”
Fortunately, Glickman did. She wrote Schulz back telling him
she planned to pass along his letter to African American friends of hers. She
told her friends to write Schulz and share their views. They did. They urged
Schulz to integrate Peanuts.
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| Peanuts Worldwide/UFS & Universal UClick |
The letters persuaded Schulz. He got to work on Franklin and
revealed his plans to United Features Syndicate, the company that distributed
Peanuts to publications worldwide, reaching tens of millions of people. The
company questioned Schulz’s decision, but according to Glickman, Schulz told
them, “Either you run it the way I drew it or I quit.”
Franklin was born July 31, 1968, appearing on a summer beach
with Charlie Brown. Glickman’s idea came to life. Her persistence paid off.
What’s in a Picture?
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| Peanuts Worldwide |
Now, one might wonder, “How much progress in race relations
in America can be attributed to including Franklin in Peanuts” True, it’s
impossible to tell.
I will say this. It provided a generation of children –
specifically my generation – a visual of how we can all get along. When I was a
child, for example, I did not know any black children. My neighborhood north of
Chicago was all white. My schools were all white. I do remember seeing Franklin in the comic section. I noticed
him. I am sure others did as well.
Detractors might suggest this was just window dressing. The
visual presence of a black face amidst an otherwise white comic strip does
nothing, they might say. I would
challenge this by suggesting that what we see around us does matter. Visuals do
have an impact. They do mean something. They help us see differently, think
differently and, perhaps, act differently.
As evidence I would reference another situation involving
something visual – a flag. I see
the recent removal of the Confederate flag from flying atop the South Carolina
Capitol buildings and also from the capitol grounds in Alabama as people acknowledging
that visuals matter.
In this case, removing the Confederate from view
acknowledges that we need to distance ourselves from our past of racial
prejudice in this country.
The sad commonality between removing the confederate flag
from our view in 2015 and Glickman’s letter to Charles Schulz in 1968 is that
they both arose from tragedy. King’s death in Memphis, Tennessee spurred many
changes, including Glickman's letter and the birth of Franklin. The racially-charged killing of 9
blacks in a South Carolina church led to lowering the Confederate flag and
likely more changes.
Part of the legacy of those 9 people killed on June 17 at
the Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in downtown Charleston, South
Carolina will forever be positive change. Some will say it’s what’s in people’s
hearts that truly matters. That’s true. However, what people see matters too.
For blacks everywhere, to see that Confederate flag all these years atop
government buildings is an insult and a reminder of a violent, unjust and divided past.
I would argue that similar to how the arrival of Franklin has
helped some people see a more integrated future, the absence of the visual
image of a Confederate flag over the next 47 years will help more people
visualize a better future – a future that people like Martin Luther King,
Harriett Glickman and Rev. Clementa Pinckney were already able to see quite clearly.
(My thanks to Michael Cavna @comicriffs)
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