‘Yet we thrive’: Where once were shackles, a foothold for hope
At a place called ground zero for slavery in North America, our writer found a space for reflection about social progress that’s been haltingly made – and about the hard work still to be done. He spoke about his reporting on our weekly podcast.
Can a historical site of horror become a place of healing?
Writer Ken Makin traveled to the new International African American Museum in Charleston, South Carolina, earlier this summer, and to the “hallowed ground” there at the site of Gadsden’s Wharf.
“In a lot of ways, it’s ground zero for chattel slavery in the country,” Ken says on the Monitor’s “Why We Wrote This” podcast. “Forty to 48% of the enslaved who came into this country came in through Charleston.”
The museum does more than explain that hard history, Ken says. It honors the past, present, and future. Its role: to bring to the fore knowledge that has been tucked away. That isn’t easy.
“At the same time as people can attend this museum, there are also elements and entities and institutions who don’t want what’s in that museum taught in public schools,” Ken says. “And that’s very problematic.”
The museum also marks the cultural richness proudly nurtured in this region. Ken came across a woman who appeared deeply affected as she sat near a display. “And I asked her, you know: ‘Are you OK?’” Ken says. “She started to tear up a little bit. And so I just sat down with her, and we just talked. I’m gonna paraphrase what she said. She said: ‘We’ve been through so much; we’ve experienced so much, yet we thrive.’”
Episode transcript
Clay Collins: From the Cambodian killing fields of Choeung Ek to the museum at Auschwitz-Birkenau, the places where a certain kind of human history has been made are meant for contemplation and to affect visitors deeply. The impact may be amplified around places whose history hasn’t always been allowed to be at the fore.
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Collins: This is “Why We Wrote This.” I’m Clay Collins. Monitor commentator Ken Makin, a native South Carolinian, reported earlier this summer from the new International African American Museum in Charleston. He joins us today to talk about the story he wrote about it – a story of dignity, about a place and space once given over to searing horror, and now one in which to grieve, to reflect and to continue to demand better of humanity. Welcome back to the show, Ken.
Ken Makin: Clay, so glad to be back.
Collins: So set the scene, if you would, down at Gadsden’s Wharf today, and remind us about that place’s history, which this new museum depicts.
Makin: I went down to the museum with my wife and I remember just pulling up to the building. It’s actually 13 feet off of the ground and, you know, it’s on the water. The beauty of it is remarkable. Of course, when you learn the story about what’s inside of the building and what’s around it, then you learn very quickly that this is, as the International African American Museum puts it, this is hallowed ground. In a lot of ways, it’s ground zero for chattel slavery in the country: 40% to 48% of the enslaved who came into this country came in through Charleston. The museum does a very good job of explaining that history, but beyond that history, honoring really the past, the present, and the future.
Just walking into the museum, it’s remarkable. So beautiful just seeing the heroes of South Carolina. You would see like a Mary McLeod Bethune, who’s from Mayesville, South Carolina. You would see a Benjamin Mays. He was a mentor to Dr. King.
Beyond that initial walkthrough, something that really just grabbed my attention was, there’s a timeline. It’s in this U-shape. And it starts from the 1600s, and it goes into just very meticulous detail on all of these different occurrences that happened, whether it was items of cultural ramifications, entertainment, notions of rebellion. So there are elements of pan-Africanism and the Civil Rights Movement, the tug and pull between freedom and oppression and subjugation.
Collins: There is such power in being in a place like that. I think of the National Civil Rights Museum at the Lorraine Motel in Memphis, where as a visitor, you stand right in front of that balcony where Dr. King was shot. So there in Charleston, what were some reactions that you heard other people express? And Ken, what was your own reaction in the context of your own life and your family history?
Makin: A lot of what I got, obviously, was just folks saying: “Wow, this is just visually so impressive,” the history and just the learning of various walks of life, not just American history from the 1600s, but learning about Africa to America, you know, the Gullah Geechee culture, which is so prevalent in Charleston.
There was a woman who was sitting down toward the end of the museum. She was sitting across from President Obama, you know, a likeness of him, and just kind of his backstory. And I walk past her and... It’s hard for me to explain, but sometimes there’s like an aura with people. And I asked her, I said, you know: “Are you OK?” She started to tear up a little bit. And so I just sat down with her and I, you know, we just talked. I’m gonna paraphrase what she said. She said: “We’ve been through so much, we’ve experienced so much, yet we thrive.”
For myself personally, the Hamburg [South Carolina] Massacre hits very close to home. So the Hamburg Massacre, It happened in 1876. It happened July 4th, 1876. So you had this Black militia that was celebrating the 4th of July, the country’s centennial. And there were these gentlemen who, you know, basically walked through their parade in a very disrespectful fashion, and they were simply asked to, “Hey, you know, don’t walk through this parade.” And it created this racial conflict that ultimately ended up in what we know as the Hamburg Massacre. It really just started this reign of white supremacist terror that affected my hometown, what I know as North Augusta. So, attending the museum, looking for pieces of that, and, you know, that being a part of the conversation of reconstruction. And so when we talk about the history of this place, a lot of it is just history that’s hidden in plain sight.
Collins: South Carolina’s history, as you say, is of course so deeply entwined with that of enslaved people who were forced ashore here. And that seems somehow at once very well known and also somewhat obscured in American history. In light of all the work that you do, do you see awareness finally deepening in the right places here?
Makin: I think the awareness is happening. I just think it has to be more profound, just to make sure that this history is not tucked away again, because for so long it was tucked away. Even now in this country, there’s a battle that has endured, in terms of education, in terms of history, in terms of what is taught in public schools. And so at the same time as people can attend this museum, there are also elements and entities and institutions who don’t want what’s in that museum taught in public schools. And that’s very problematic.
Collins: It’s interesting. In your answer, I was hearing shades of what you said when we last spoke about progress in Black Hollywood. And you talked about “peaks and valleys,” and the former being encouraging and the valleys being persistent. I feel you’re saying something similar here.
Makin: Very much so. I’ll just reference very quickly to the Florida curriculum that has garnered controversy, that Ron DeSantis has pushed forth. You know, this idea that slavery was beneficial to Black people. As soon as I heard that, I immediately went back to John C. Calhoun, 1837, and this notion that slavery is a positive good. John C. Calhoun died in 1850, died before the Civil War, and yet his ideologies persist even now. As much as John C. Calhoun and those of his ilk are uncompromising. I think the rebuke of those ideas has to be similarly decisive.
Collins: Right. It’s such a hard history, but it’s not one without light. Just one example: We talked a little bit offline about [this], there’s an original foodways documentary series called “High on the Hog,” in which the host, Black food writer Stephen Satterfield, gets into Carolina’s rice and the Gullah cooking traditions. There’s this real sense of pride and preservation, and that seems important too. Really, that’s, that’s about thriving, isn’t it, in the current time?
Makin: Oh, most certainly. And when you go to the museum, one of the museum guides talked a bunch about Carolina Gold and rice culture, and about Charleston being like a... a “Dubai” is how she put it. Rice was a very lucrative opportunity. And it spoke to just this history beyond slavery. It spoke to a history of... I’m hesitant to say entrepreneurship, because it was about more than commerce. There were cultural ramifications to Carolina Gold. And that’s important when we talk about Black history. A lot of Black history obviously talks about the response to white supremacy, but there are ideas which endure when you look at Black studies, when you look at the spirituality, the sociology of what it means to, I’ll use it in this context, to be African.
Charleston is ground zero obviously for channel slavery, but Charleston is also a bridge port from Africa. Looking back at that history, the culinary culture and, um, the laborious culture – beyond slavery, obviously – there’s just such a relevance and richness there. I keep going back to richness. Richness speaks to not only commerce, but also speaks to just culture. I think that’s the word to describe it.
Collins: It’s a remarkable piece that you’ve written about a really remarkable place. Ken, thank you so much for coming on and chatting about it.
Makin: I appreciate the sentiment, and thank you so much for having me.
Collins: Thanks, Ken.
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Collins: To our listeners, thank you for listening. You can find show notes, with a link to the story we discussed at CSMonitor.com/WhyWeWroteThis. This episode was hosted by me, Clay Collins, and produced by Jingnan Peng. Our sound engineer was Alyssa Britton, with original music by Noel Flatt. Produced by the Christian Science Monitor, copyright 2023.
