Reconnecting With Slavery
Yesterday I took my sons to Chicago's Field Museum. They loved every moment of the experience, from the mummies to the meteorites. Or rather, they loved almost every moment. They totally freaked out over the simulated slave ship in the Africa exhibit.Actually, I should also include myself in the freak out. I just wasn't mentally or emotionally prepared to go into a simulated slave ship hold and neither were they.
There we were, innocently walking through the exhibit, checking out various cultural artifacts from lots of different countries: drums, spears, knives, walking sticks, hairpins and religious iconography -- and then all of the sudden there on one of the walls was this paragraph detailing how slavery stole away so much from the civilizations that had created such beauty. Then, before I knew it, we were at the entrance to what looked like a dark tunnel. Except, it wasn't a tunnel. It was the entrance to the hold of the simulated slave ship.
My four year-old began crying and screaming in terror. My seven year-old clutched my hand and said, "I don't think we should go in there. It looks evil in there."
I tried to take a step forward but neither one would budge. More tears and them crying, "No, no! Don't make us go in there, mommy!"
The fear in their voices made me think about the fear that millions of African children must have experienced as they were forced onto slave ships. I couldn't ask my sons, "What are you afraid of?" because how could they not be afraid? They have not hardened their hearts to the complete blood-soaked and immoral horror that lays claim to our past. In their minds is neither the blase intellectualization of slavery nor an attitude that it all happened years ago so there's no reason to still talk about it.
As I listened to my sons beg me not to take them onto the slave ship, their comments and questions made me realize they'd forgotten that we were merely in a museum. They were really worried that they were really about to be sold into slavery and if they got onto the "ship" they'd never see our families again.
I reassured them that this was not the case and after a few minutes, we proceeded to step through the "hold" of the ship. We moved quickly through. Even though it was simulated it did make me feel like some sort of door was going to clang shut. This photo is my eldest after going through the ship. He'd been crying:
I asked him what he was thinking about and he said, "I don't wanna be a slave. Ever." I think he sees himself in those pictures, sees his ancestor's faces reflected back to him.I am glad he wasn't born 150 years ago. I'm glad we can walk through a simulated slave ship and come out the other side, not as property to be sold, but as ourselves.
Comments
As always I will be looking to you when time comes to broach this subject with my own son.
This also makes me think about a concept I haven't considered for a while. Genetic memory. The memories of ancestors passed through genetics.
Your sons' reactions sounded so consistent with that.
Sharifa makes a very good point, too. It's still happening.
When human beings can be exploited by other human beings, it doesn't leave me with much faith in humanity.
It really does put it all into perspective because we were trippin' and there weren't even any people beating us with whips and putting us in chains. How terrifying the whole experience must have been, worse than we can even imagine. -- And that boy definitely has the best eyelashes. I'm jealous.
Sharifa,
Yes, sadly, forms of slavery do still exist, but thank goodness not on the scale it used to. Eradicating it from existence can't happen till people truly believe that everyoen else is their equal, all part of one human family. Sigh.
Chani,
The idea of genetic memory is a fascinating one. I often think about that when I'm nervous or afraid in certain situations and I don't quite know why. I do believe humanity can get it right if we want to and if we put our collective futures/fortunes ahead of the individual ones. Hopefully in our lifetimes, right?
Jameil,
Yeah, the whole agricultural industry in California is pretty much run like a plantation and the folks picking our strawberries and lettuce -- they aren't getting whipped by an overseer, but it's pretty bad. And yeah, I am definitely doing a whole lot of thinking here. It's generating a lot of "stuff".
I am really thankful for your gift in relating things to us, I always feel our ancestors reach out to us but you really validated that.
And you are right...it's wasn't that long ago that legal slavery ended in this country. We're talking 2 generations.
Sharifa's point is well taken, too, and so is yours, along with NYC's.
Slavery and genocide are the two greatest human horrors IMHO.
I was in Charleston, SC once, and stood outside a building on the shore where slave ships once docked. The auction block was still in front of it, and I could actually feel the pain and fear and horror of the people who passed through there. I was unable to go inside.
I have always been an empath, but that experience stands out as the most intense I have ever had. All these years later, the air was still thick with the tears of those miserable people who were living through the kind of horror no soul should ever know. Such evil is absolutely tangible and remains in the air forever, perhaps as a reminder that we must never again allow human beings to be enslaved.
Definitely go if you get the chance. I wish I'd been able to catch the Amistad but we weren't in town ever when it was there. The memories are like a blister... and I'm reading The Known World right now. It all has this on the forefront of my mind.
Pisceshanna,
I'd love to see that museum one day. The whole witchcraft accusation thing just makes my skin crawl. I definitely think I'd be among those getting burned at the stake if I'd been alive back then. We can't live it down but we can make it right in the future.
NYC/CR,
I know, only two generations is nothing in the grand scheme of time. It's like a blip, a nanosecond.
Jen,
Truly such great horrors. We have to make it right for the future so the same things are not just repeated over and over.
They are definitely sensible kids most of the time! Me on the other hand... ;)
Steve,
That's really something that you have access to so many of the old plantations and museums. No way to completely ignore the presence and history of slavery then, is there? Up north we just don't have that sort of physical evidence, the tangible daily reminders. And very cool that you all jumped the broom, too. I'm always fascinated by how two seemingly different cultures can share a commonality like broom jumping. BTW, I'm still dying laughing over your BONG email about Amy Lee from Evanescence. That was so darn funny!
I didn't too many photos in that part of the exhibit, but his anguish just really struck me. He was leaned back against that wall, just completely floored by what he'd just experienced. I don't think I've ever seen him like that.
Heart,
Going to this exhibit made me realize that even though my boys knew about slavery before, they only knew in an academic, clinical sense. I don't think it was completely real for them. Now it's real. I don't know if I could experience the "real" sites of slavery-related atrocities. The "fake" version was so emotional for me (and my boys). I totally think what happened leaves an energy in places. But I suppose feeling that pain and energy is what is due to those that suffered.
Your son is such a cutie!
That's heavy. Maybe I'll bring a couple of my Republican "house negro" friends to that ship. Hopefully, they'll get from it what your oldest did.
That must have been so so intense!
Something all of you will never forget. And it was so cute, such a tear jerker that they cried out like that. Almost as if their lips were mouthing the unended /unavenged cries of those who were taken. With the same fear invoked, the same words said (just different language).
Too deep.
A powerful blog, Liz.
I want to take MY kids to that museum. And they are 27, 25 and 22! EVERY person of African descent should visit a slave museum. We need to remember from whence we came, and take pride in how they managed to survive. It's horrible to face but so necessary for our emotional, mental and spiritual healing. In fact, I'm working on an idea that came to me concerning healing of that type.
Your son's expression really says it all.
And before I forget, Chani brought up genetic memory of our ancestors. I'd like to look into that more. When my children were very young, I took them to a concert that featured a lot of popular singers and musicians from different countries in Africa. the finale featured all of the performers dancing in their native dress to a gigantic "talking" drum. The beat that drum made was thunderous! I felt it in my heart, and I started crying uncontrollably. My kids all jumped up out of their seats and started dancing. When the concert was over, my oldest daughter said to me, "Mommy, I felt like that drum was talking to me!"
None of my kids remember attending this concert. But all three of them LOVE African music. Genetic memory is amazing.
They will fight for freedom in their lives - theirs and others. That's the most honorable way to live.
I remember being given details about the Holocaust when I was about 9 or 10 and not sleeping for weeks. I lived in terror, I'm still keenly aware that the world hates Jews.
ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh, this made me cry!
(here via ARP)