Where the Air Grows Thin: A Shared Passion for History

Simone Jacobs, LCSW-C

“We are here today to say - we were here.” Rev. Dr. Caesor Johnson, Spring Hill Baptist Church

This weekend as part of the Slavery Inventory Database, Maddy and I attended “Precious Memories: How they Linger,” an event to re-dedicate the burial grounds of those enslaved by Patrick Henry at his Red Hill Estate in Brookneal, VA. For those of you who don’t know, Patirck Henry was the founding father best known for his declaration, “Give me Liberty or Give me Death.” I’m not the first person to point out the irony of a man who ignited the fires of national independence while at the same time enslaving people. When Patrick Henry gave his speech, those enslaved to him worked his land and cared for his family but did not get to hope or share the very freedoms he was pursuing for himself, his family, and his country. 

But I’m going to save a discussion of that particular type of hypocrisy for another day. Partly because these kinds of experiences of hypocrisy at the various sites we visit, often leave me depleted. Sometimes when we go on our #fieldtripfridays, I get angry, despairing, and frustrated at the past, present, and future. I often leave these kinds of events feeling disappointed, sad, and afraid. This may seem strange--why would I continue to participate in activities that leave me feeling so overwhelmed and exhausted by the emotional intensity? 

I’ll tell you why I do this--it’s because there is something in these historical excursions that is more powerful than the negative psychic overload. In these historic places, in these moments shared with others who choose to engage, I feel something. It’s almost as if the air grows thin, as the lines between past and present blur, I hear more clearly the whispers of the past, of those who have gone before, and I am, we are, at once nothing - small specks of dust in midst of a brief moment in the vast universe - and yet not. I become part of something bigger, not just a witness to a past long gone, but an active participant in the long and ongoing narrative of the human race. Because in these moments, in these forgotten stories, or well known stories, in the revelations of history that are both good and bad, glorious and horrific, profound and mundane, there are moments of wonder, connection, and peace. 

Those who were enslaved did not get to sit on top of the hill and survey their territory with a sense of ownership as they played the fiddle surrounded by their grandchildren. They did not get to feast in delight at what they had produced. They worked hard, they were abused, tortured and killed in service to a master who cared little for their worth as members of the same human race. And yet they survived. They persevered. They lived lives that were worthy, honorable, and dignified, even when they weren’t treated that way. And that’s why I go. I go to honor those who came before, so that I can stand here today. I go to pay my respects to those who chose to keep on living in spite of the horror, in spite of the sorrow, in spite of the fears, shame, and humiliation. They lived, and so I  write about them, know them, honor them, and say thank you. 

But what difference does my experience make to them? I don’t know, but it makes a difference to me. These events change  the way I view the world, in the past, present, and future. Bringing to light this history, standing with those who share the same past or interests, connects us, so we can share our grief, burdens, and joys, we are no longer alone. In the present it affects how I interact with those who struggle, with those who suffer, and with those who lift themselves up on the backs of others all the while claiming they stand on their own. My participation also makes a difference in the future. It matters when we choose to uncover a headstone, trace a forgotten family tree, attend an event, and connect with others who share this same passion. Because sometime in the future, someone will discover something in the history we have preserved, that helps them reconnect with themselves, their story, and perhaps find the courage to face adversity, rediscover their dignity, or reclaim the honor and respect for something that was once deemed shameful. I believe that all these experiences - the stories told, the events attended, the cemeteries recovered, the work of finding history - make a difference. I believe that now and sometime in the future, the disconnected name in an accounting ledger will mean something. The enslaved did not live meaningless lives that nobody will remember. I remember, we remember, and hopefully so will you. 

“Their story has not died. It just hasn’t been told.” 
Rev. Dr. Ceasor Johnson, Spring Hill Baptist Church, Brookneal, VA

Lock 29, C & O Canal, Lander, MD

We Remember Joseph McCoy

We Remember Joseph McCoy. A Black teenager murdered by a white terror mob in Alexandria, Virginia on April 23, 1897. Over a century later, still no accountability and no justice. 

Pope Leighey House

East End Cemetery, Richmond, Virginia

East End Cemetery, founded in the 1890s, is an historic Black cemetery in Richmond, Virginia... The site was seemingly forgotten by the 1980s and the woods and weeds reclaimed it.

We would like to acknowledge the immense work that @friendsofeastend have done at the #eastendcemetery over the years. They have reclaimed the land, they have rediscovered the history, they have made progress toward returning ancestors to their descendants.

We would like to acknowledge what is happening there right now with the @enrichmondfoundation at thehelm. What appears to be animosity towards prospective partners, previous stewards of the space, and an overall lack of transparency leave us feeling very concerned for East End and the descendants of the interred.

Ownership of the land  AND the stewardship of an historic Black cemetery is about trust, love and respect. It is not about profit. It is not about tourism. It is not about gentrification of sacred spaces.

The Importance of Remembering: The Historic African American Sugarland Community

 

Simone Jacobs, LCSW-C

Maddy McCoy

Ly Vick Johnson, MSW

 

This blog post is part of an ongoing conversation about the connection between history and mental health. The enslavement of millions of Black men, women, and children was a traumatic experience and its effects are still being felt today. The work of the Slavery Inventory Database is about documenting these stories, many of which contain material that can activate a post traumatic response in the present. We believe it is just as important to tell these stories, as it is to recognize how and why the trauma of American Slavery remains relevant. Please note that nothing contained in these reflections is mental health advice, and you should seek the help of a trained counselor if you find yourself having an unwanted or difficult reaction. Conversations about trauma are hard and extremely complex, in writing short blog posts we cannot talk about every aspect of the trauma response. Instead we choose to highlight one or two themes and hope that over time the complex layers of the interconnectedness of past trauma and current mental health will reveal themselves. 

“History…is not merely something to be read. And it does not refer merely to the past. On the contrary, the great force of history comes from the fact that we carry it within us.” 

James Baldwin (1924-1987)

Last week on our monthly #fieldtripfriday, the Slavery Inventory Database (SID) team met with some amazing historians connected to the Sugarland Ethnohistory Project in Poolesville, Maryland. It was truly a privilege to listen to Gwendora Hebron Reece and Suzanne R. Johnson as they shared about their herculean efforts to collect and document information about their community that has roots dating back to the civil war. (You can read about what this group has done here and here). 

Ms. Reece and Ms. Johnson shared with us their projects to find unmarked grave sites, coordinate the family reunions, and the efforts to maintain and preserve much that could be lost or forgotten. There was much of interest related to mental health in their project, but the focus of this blog are two particular snippets:

• The first has to do with wanting to share the strengths of the community and the lessons that we can learn from the past. Ms. Reece said that older family members in this community never talked about slavery. Experiences of enslavement were not discussed. They just got on with surviving. Many passed down the skills they had learned whilst enslaved to survive as well as to enrich their lives, the lives of their families, and their community. But they did not talk about that experience. Like many other Black communities around the country, they were interdependent communities, taking care of each other and their neighbors.

• The second was in reference to one of the historic homes we visited, you can see some photos here. This historic home still had a decent amount of their historic landscape intact, including a number of contributing historic outbuildings, one or two of which had been built as slave dwellings. This part of Maryland has few remaining or documented dwellings for enslaved peoples. The house that we visited had recently been on the market and the real estate marketing terminology described these historic outbuildings as “guest houses.” Someone wondered aloud why the real use of the properties is so rarely accurately listed. My immediate response was to point out that this is what happens with trauma, there is a need to wipe out the abuses, to sanitize them, to forget them, this way they cannot be held accountable for their actions. 

When healing from trauma, remembering the past is an important part of the process on both sides of the traumatic experience. 

For the wounded, remembering is important because that trauma - whether it is spoken about or not - gets passed down from one generation to the next. It is passed down in our bodies, it is in our very genetic makeup, it is passed down in our relationships, it is passed down in the ways in which we cope, it is passed down in the way we shape and make meaning of our lives.

If we don’t know our history, we are often perplexed by things we don’t understand. We are doomed to repeat behavioral patterns that were meant only to help us survive the unsurvivable. When we don’t know our past we cannot draw on the strength, perseverance, and creative ingenuity of those who survived before us. 

Remembering the past helps us to make sense of our lives in the context of our lived experience. This gives us the freedom to change our automatic responses, allowing us to draw from other available resources. Having a choice about how we respond allows us to connect to the past as well as the present in healthy ways, freeing us from the burdens of the dominant white cultural narratives that  suppress and subvert the past. Remembering the past allows us to begin telling our own stories in ways that nourish and uplift us. 

For the perpetrators of past and current abuses, there is often a malignant investment in denial. Denying the violence, means never being held accountable for their crimes. Denying the atrocities of enslaving men, women, and children means a continuation of white supremacy and the privileges of power and financial wealth that come with that. Denying the past means denying the humanity of those they hurt and there are serious consequences to that. When people deny the humanity in the other, they deny their own humanity, and erode their capacity for connection, empathy, and love. And while power and privilege are useful distractors they become empty vessels for true fulfillment.

“I say, no man of conscious can take a lash to another human day in and day out without shredding at his own self. Takes him to a place where he either makes excuses within his mind to be unaffected or he finds some way to trample his guilty sensations.” -Armsby, (12 Years a Slave)

Accountability is necessary so that true healing can take place for all involved in the historical trauma of slavery. Two of the questions that SID is asking is who to hold accountable and how. We are involved with reparations projects with various institutions and communities that actively seek to take this responsibility.

We are also giving recognition to the importance of addressing and bringing to light how history affects our collective and individual mental health today.

But mostly we are uncovering forgotten stories. So that those stories no longer lie in the shadows and margins of our history, languishing in shame, and fear. So that we can begin to change the white supremist narratives that have marginalized and dismissed all others, and lay claim to the freedom that comes from creating and shaping our own narrative.

Breaking Down the Wall of Slavery at Carlyle House.

Breaking Down the Wall of Slavery at Carlyle House. Join Maddy McCoy of the Slavery Inventory Database for a zoom discussion on how the enslaved individuals and families at Carlyle House were identified... and the importance of telling a historic site’s full story. February 25, 2021 at 7pm. $5.

Eventbrite Sign Up Here

Virginia Theological Seminary Reparations Project

Slavery Inventory Database (SID) is conducting the antebellum research for the groundbreaking Virginia Theological Seminary Reparations Project. Today we walked the campus ground where the enslaved quarters may have been located with Virginia Theological Seminary project staff and archivists and Alexandria Archaeology. We are so proud of this project and very humbled to be a part of it. Bonus: seeing some of our favorite people in person and not on a zoom screen.

Historic Outbuildings of Interest

Archaeologist Brian Crane joined the group for our next stop on #fieldtripfriday... an amazing 18th century farm in the ag reserve with the most incredible HISTORIC OUTBUILDINGS! Seneca sandstone outbuildings that were truly a treat to see. These outbuildings were beautifully crafted... expertly built. Their placement on the landscape next to the main house was really interesting to observe. We will need to revisit the site to get a better understanding of what each building was actually used for... We may be talking about an overseers domicile as well as enslaved quarters. Thank you to Allison who was so gracious letting our group descend upon her property.

Sugarland Ethnohistory Project

Team Slavery Inventory Database (SID) went on a fabulous #fieldtripfriday! We are so grateful to Kenny Sholes of the Montgomery County, Maryland Historic Ag Reserve for being our guide and leading us to some fantastic places. First stop was the historic Black community of Sugarland where we met descendants Gwendora Hebron Reece & Suzanne R. Johnson. We were also joined by Jeff Sypeck and Glenn Wallace Weitz. All four are members  of the Sugarland EthnoHistory Project and authors of ‘I Have Started for Canaan: The Story of the African American Town of Sugarland’. It was really exciting to see a group of descendants and community members come together to tell the story of this small yet hugely important community. And I say hugely important because all of these small, dwindling, historic Black communities were our backbones. They were here, on the land, long before any 20th century development and in some cases already established prior to the Civil War. We were so happy to have spent some time with these folks. 

Historic Warren Cemetery

Our final stop on #fieldtripfriday was to the historic African American Warren Cemetery. This cemetery is a perfect example of Black history hidden in the margins. Spaces, often sacred spaces are carved out in the margins of our landscapes. They are hard to find, hard to see, yet, they are everywhere. 

We are so glad to have made new friends today and learned about all sorts of projects that people are doing. This is what #fieldtripfriday is all about: meeting new friends, seeing new sites, learning new things and making connections that enable all of us to better advocate for those who no longer can. -Maddy, Simone & Chris