John B.
Yelp
The museum complex combines a Mississippi history section and the more specialized civil rights museum under one roof. Let's be honest: if you ask someone who's not from here to make a list of their top 45 or so U.S. states, Mississippi is probably not on it. But the museum creates a compelling picture of the surrounding countryside, while adroitly navigating difficult history and showcasing exceptional modern methods of exhibition.
The two floors of state history start with a video narrated by Morgan Freeman and take us through the Native Americans of the region all the way up to the second world war. Several more video narrations dot the two floors, with countdowns making you feel like there's always something happening. The section concludes with an opportunity for the guest to record a video message, and some of them are selected to be on playback, giving a charmingly genuine picture of how people from the state reacted to seeing this depiction of their heritage.
The civil rights museum is something else. It is a multimedia experience where motion sensors detect you coming by and play the sound of a (genuinely startling) whip cracking to unsettle the visitor. Various signs caution the viewer of the graphic nature of the racial history of Mississippi, but they aren't "trigger warnings" per se and visitors will find pictures of lynchings and uncensored n-words; half the exhibit would probably be banned on an elite American college campus, which is a discredit to college but a credit to the museum.
The museum largely succeeds in navigating the difficult history of the state. The term white supremacy is not a hollow epithet in the surrounding region, but the exhibitions resist simple narratives. The story of Mississippians heading off to join the Civil War becomes poignant when the fact that many of them never returned home is narrated with empathy by a person those very soldiers wouldn't have allowed to learn to read. A story of white civil rights activists coming down from the north and getting murdered with help from the local police is punctuated by the search for their bodies yielding the bodies of several unrelated local murder victims; men who no one was even looking for. A picture of black Mississippians serving at Iwo Jima is not the Iwo Jima picture we usually see, but nonetheless represents a powerful image given what they returned to as veterans at home. And there's nothing like having a security guard who probably was old enough to have lived through some of these events point the visitor's eyes upwards to a series of overtly racist Jim Crow-era cartoons of people like him. The perils of political correctness are largely evaded by a series of nuanced exhibitions which provoke both thoughts and emotions.
I do note that while the museum complex has a free parking garage and spiffy wi-fi, there is a significant admission charge (although Sundays are free), and they do make you go through security. While these constraints aren't ideal, I think both are understandable, as there are genuine security concerns, and given the surrounding city's appalling roads and dubious water supply, I wouldn't ask their government to put any more money into making its tourist attractions free. There are a lot of museums out there on the racial history of America and I've been to many of the best ones, and this was definitely a top-tier experience thanks to both the specificity of its primary sourced stories and the ingenuity of their presentation. And while it's tough material, the civil rights museum is built around a central hub where visitors can rest and relax, and the uplifting call of negro spirituals rings through the halls. Both the knowledgeable and friendly people working there and the messaging of the museum itself will leave the visitor with an optimistic vision of Mississippi, and hope for the future of the human race.