Three Social Studies Lessons Using Baseball as an Introduction to History

How Baseball and Jackie Robinson Shaped New York’s Identity

Jackie Robinson played with the Dodgers’ minor league Montreal team.

Introduction: The Brooklyn Dodgers were not just a baseball team; they were a cultural institution that embodied Brooklyn’s identity from 1883 until their departure in 1957. Prior to 1898, Brooklyn was the fourth largest city in America. After incorporation into the greater city of New York, the Dodgers contributed to Brooklynites maintaining their separate sense of identity. In 1947, Jackie Robinson broke baseball’s color barrier when he joined the Brooklyn Dodgers. This historic moment changed not only baseball but also had profound social implications that shaped Brooklyn’s identity. After decades of falling short, particularly against the Yankees, the Dodgers finally won the World Series in 1955. This victory was a defining moment for Brooklyn’s collective identity. In 1957, Dodgers owner Walter O’Malley moved the team to Los Angeles after failing to secure a deal to build a new stadium in Brooklyn. This departure left a profound impact on Brooklyn’s identity and development. The departure of the Dodgers coincided with other significant changes in Brooklyn and New York City. The borough’s identity had to evolve in the absence of its beloved team.

  1. In your opinion, what does the phrase “Wait ’til next year” reveal about Brooklyn’s character and the relationship between the team and its fans?
  2. Why was defeating the Yankees particularly significant for Brooklynites’ sense of identity?
  3. How did Brooklyn residents react to the Dodgers leaving Brooklyn?
  4. Do professional sports teams have any obligations to their loyal fanbase?
  5. The proposed site for a new Dodgers stadium at Atlantic and Flatbush Avenues eventually became the Barclays Center in 2012. What does the building of this arena reveal about Brooklyn’s evolution in your lifetime?
  • 1865-1877: Reconstruction era provides brief period of expanded rights for Black Americans.  Republican support among Black voters, however, declines when President Hayes withdrew federal troops from the South
  • 1876: National League founded (all-white)
  • 1884: Moses Fleetwood Walker becomes last Black player in major leagues prior to International League institutes unwritten “gentlemen’s agreement” (1887) barring Black players
  • 1920s: Negro National League established as segregated professional baseball thrives
  • 1939: Jackie Robinson enrolls at UCLA, becomes first athlete to letter in four sports
  • 1944: Robinson court-martialed for refusing to move to back of segregated bus while in Army
  • 1945: Branch Rickey signs Robinson to Montreal Royals (Dodgers’ farm team). Robinson agrees to avoid responding to provocations from racist white fans and players
  • 1946: Robinson leads International League with .349 average and 40 stolen bases
  • April 15, 1947: Robinson debuts with Brooklyn Dodgers
  • 1948: President Truman issues Executive Order 9981 desegregating armed forces
  • 1949: Robinson wins NL MVP, batting .342 with 37 stolen bases
  • 1954: Brown v. Board of Education Supreme Court decision outlawed school segregation
  • 1955: Rosa Parks, MLK and the Montgomery Bus Boycott
  • 1955: Robinson helps Dodgers win World Series
  • 1956: Robinson retires from baseball rather than accept trade to Giants
  • 1957: Robinson is hired as VP at Chock Full O’Nuts
  • 1957: Robinson heads NAACP Fund Drive
  • 1957: Little Rock Nine integrate Central High School in Arkansas
  • 1959: Robinson begins writing syndicated newspaper columns
  • 1960: Robinson campaigns for Richard Nixon in presidential election
  • 1963: Robinson participates in March on Washington with MLK
  • 1964: Robinson co-founds Freedom National Bank in Harlem
  • 1964: Civil Rights Act passed
  • 1965: Voting Rights Act passed
  • 1968: Robinson supports Hubert Humphrey after disillusionment with Republican Party
  • 1970: Robinson creates Jackie Robinson Construction Corporation
  • October 15, 1972: Final appearance at World Series, calls for Black MLB managers
  • October 24, 1972: Robinson dies at age 53 from heart attack and diabetes complications
  • 1973: Rachel Robinson establishes Jackie Robinson Foundation
  • 1997: MLB universally retires Robinson’s number 42
  • 2004: MLB establishes Jackie Robinson Day (April 15)
  1. What economic, cultural, or social factors might have made baseball more willing to accept racial integration before other American Institutions?
  2. Why did MLB’s integration have such a profound impact on American society?

On April 15, 1947, Jackie Robinson played first base for the Brooklyn Dodgers at Ebbets Field, becoming the first Black player in Major League Baseball since 1884. The Dodgers defeated the Boston Braves 5-3. This historic moment ended the “gentlemen’s agreement” among team owners that had kept baseball segregated. Robinson’s journey began when Branch Rickey, the Dodgers’ general manager, signed him to the Montreal Royals (the Dodgers’ minor league affiliate) in 1945. Rickey specifically chose Robinson not only for his athletic ability and competitive fire but for his character and temperament, asking him to “turn the other cheek” in the face of racial hostility. After excelling in Montreal during the 1946 season, Robinson joined the Dodgers for the 1947 season. Robinson’s debut received dramatically different coverage in white and Black newspapers. Most mainstream white papers barely mentioned the historic significance, focusing instead on other aspects of the game. In contrast, Black newspapers across the country made Robinson’s debut front-page news, with extensive coverage and photography.

Throughout his first season, Robinson endured racist taunts, pitches thrown at his head, and opponents attempting to spike him on the basepaths. Despite this, he batted .297, led the league in stolen bases, and won the first Rookie of the Year award. His decade-long career included six National League pennants, a World Series championship in 1955, and the National League MVP award in 1949. He was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1962.

Robinson was politically engaged throughout his post-baseball life. He served as chairman of the NAACP Freedom Fund Drive, traveling the country to recruit members and raise funds. From 1959, he wrote syndicated newspaper columns addressing race relations, politics, and other social issues for the New York Post and later the New York Amsterdam News. Robinson developed close relationships with civil rights leaders, including Martin Luther King Jr., whom he accompanied on numerous speaking tours. Robinson supported King’s work and helped raise funds for the Civil Rights Movement. Specifically, he and his wife Rachel hosted jazz concerts at their Connecticut home to raise bail money for protesters arrested during civil rights Robinson’s impact on civil rights was summarized by Martin Luther King Jr., who told Dodgers pitcher Don Newcombe: “You will never know how easy it was for me because of Jackie Robinson.” Robinson’s approach to civil rights combined direct advocacy with practical action. Robinson believed that speaking out against injustice was a responsibility that came with his privileged celebrity position, frequently stating he would not remain silent when witnessing wrongdoing. He challenged professional sports leagues, politicians, and fellow athletes to do better on racial issues throughout his life.

After retiring from baseball in 1956, Robinson became vice president of personnel at Chock Full O’Nuts, becoming the first African American to hold such a position at a major American corporation. He used this platform to advocate for civil rights, writing letters to politicians on company letterhead and challenging discriminatory practices. Robinson believed strongly in economic independence for Black Americans. He co-founded the Freedom National Bank in Harlem in 1964 to provide financial services to the Black community, and in 1970 he created the Jackie Robinson Construction Corporation to build affordable housing. He consistently advocated for Black capitalism and criticized businesses that failed to employ African Americans.

In presidential politics, Robinson initially supported Hubert Humphrey in the 1960 Democratic primaries before backing Republican Richard Nixon in the general election, believing Nixon had a stronger civil rights record than John Kennedy. Later, he campaigned for progressive Republican candidate Nelson Rockefeller and opposed Barry Goldwater’s 1964 Republican nomination, which he felt represented a rightward shift that would attract more white voters by alienating Black voters. By 1968, disillusioned with Nixon, he supported Humphrey again.

At his final public appearance at the 1972 World Series, just nine days before his death, Robinson used the opportunity to call for more Black managers and coaches in baseball. After his death from a heart attack on October 24, 1972, civil rights activist Jesse Jackson delivered his eulogy, calling him “the Black Knight in a chess game… checking the King’s bigotry and the Queen’s indifference.” In 1973, Rachel Robinson established the Jackie Robinson Foundation, which provides scholarships and support services to minority students. By 2021, the foundation had graduated over 1,500 students, maintained a nearly 100% graduation rate, and provided more than $70 million in assistance. The Jackie Robinson Museum in New York City was created to further preserve his legacy. Robinson’s own quote, engraved on his tombstone, captures his philosophy: “A life is not important except in the impact it has on other lives.” Through both his baseball career and his activism, Jackie Robinson’s life embodied this principle, changing American sports and society forever.

As “the Party of Lincoln,” Republicans had delivered emancipation, the Reconstruction Amendments (13th, 14th, and 15th), and various civil rights acts from 1866 to 1875. However, this alignment between Republicans & Black Americans began to fracture after Republican President Rutherford B. Hayes ended Reconstruction by withdrawing federal troops from the South in 1877. In 1932, Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal attracted Black voters to the Democratic Party.

In 1960, Robinson supported Richard Nixon over John Kennedy. This choice reflected Robinson’s approval of the Eisenhower administration’s deployment of federal troops to protect Black students in Little Rock and passage of the 1957 Civil Rights Act. At that time, Nixon’s civil rights record appeared stronger than Kennedy’s or Johnson’s.

As an executive at Chock Full O’Nuts, Robinson championed Black economic self-sufficiency, believing that Black-owned businesses and financial institutions were crucial for community advancement. This economic philosophy aligned with traditional Republican values. Robinson’s party loyalty evolved as the political landscape shifted. He supported Democrat Lyndon Johnson over Republican Barry Goldwater in 1964 after Goldwater opposed that year’s Civil Rights Act. By 1968, Robinson had broken with Nixon and voted for Democrat Hubert Humphrey. By 1972, the year of Robinson’s death, Democrat George McGovern won 87% of the Black vote —a percentage that has remained consistent in subsequent elections, demonstrating the complete reversal of Black voters’ historical party alignment.

In his approach Robinson built on several core beliefs and principles established 60 years earlier by Black economic equality activists such as Booker T. Washington. Both men emphasized the importance of Black economic independence and viewed entrepreneurship as essential for advancement. Both created or supported Black-owned institutions that could serve community needs without relying on white approval or support. Both valued practical education that could translate directly into economic opportunities. Both saw Black-owned businesses as vehicles for community development and racial advancement. Both believed that demonstrating Black capability and success would help undermine racist stereotypes and arguments.

Despite these similarities, there were crucial differences in their approaches. Robinson saw economic initiatives as complementary to—not a replacement for—the fight for immediate civil and political rights. Robinson actively challenged segregation and participated in direct civil rights activism alongside his economic initiatives. Robinson directly challenged racial inequities, even when it alienated white supporters. As Robinson stated, he was “very much concerned over the lack of understanding in White America of the desires and ambitions of most Black Americans.” Robinson pursued integration across both social and economic spheres. As Robinson experienced the limitations of Black political advancement, he intensified his focus on economic institutions. Robinson’s economic vision expanded from individual advancement to community-wide initiatives that could create systemic change.

Robinson’s approach to Black capitalism influenced later civil rights leaders who recognized the importance of economic power alongside political rights. His founding of Freedom National Bank was a pioneering step in the community development banking movement. The bank served as the financial backbone of Harlem into the 1990s. In many of his actions and words, Robinson further developed the idea that economic empowerment without political rights is insufficient, but that political rights without economic power remains incomplete.

  1. How was Major League Baseball’s “Gentlemen’s Agreement” supported by social, legal and economic factors?
  2. Explain how Robinson’s post-baseball activities reflected his commitment to economic justice for Black Americans.
  3. Robinson said, “A life is not important except in the impact it has on other lives.” Identify three specific ways Robinson impacted American society beyond sports.
  4. Compare and contrast Jackie Robinson’s approach, tactics, philosophies, to other prominent civil rights figures (Paul Robeson, Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X, etc.).
  5. What do Robinson’s shifting endorsements of Republican and Democratic candidates reveal about the politics of civil rights?
  6. How have recent events in sports and society continued Robinson’s legacy of athlete activism?
  7. Examine how Robinson’s story has been memorialized, commemorated, and sometimes sanitized with the removal of controversy in American public memory.

As students of history, examining primary sources allows us to understand historical figures in their own context rather than solely through the lens of later interpretations. Robinson’s words reveal the complex interplay between his baseball career, civil rights activism, and political engagement.

Robinson’s Letter to President Eisenhower (May 13, 1958): Robinson wrote this letter on Chock Full O’Nuts letterhead to express his disappointment with President Eisenhower’s advice that Black Americans should be patient in their quest for civil rights. By this time, Robinson had been retired from baseball for two years and was using his position as a corporate executive to advocate for civil rights.

“I was sitting in the audience at the Summit Meeting of Negro Leaders yesterday when you said we must have patience… On behalf of myself, and I know thousands and thousands of my fellow Americans, I respectfully remind you sir that we have been the most patient of all people.”

  1. How does Robinson’s tone and words differ from his public persona during his playing days?
  2. What does Robinson’s use of corporate letterhead suggest about his business position and his activism?
  3. How might Robinson’s letter have influenced Dr. King’s 1963 “Letter from Birmingham Jail.” What risks did Robinson and King face in writing their letters?

“I Never Had It Made” Autobiography (1972): Published in the year of his death, Robinson’s autobiography presented a more critical and candid perspective on American racism than he had publicly expressed during much of his baseball career. This statement reflects his evolving views on patriotism and racial progress.

“I cannot stand and sing the anthem. I cannot salute the flag; I know that I am a Black man in a white world. In 1972, in 1947, at my birth in 1919, I know that I never had it made.”

  1. How does this statement challenge simplified narratives about Robinson as a symbol of American progress? Why might Robinson have felt more comfortable expressing these views in 1972 than earlier in his baseball career?
  2. Compare Robinson’s perspective with athlete activism today. What parallels and differences can you make?

Robinson on Economic Justice (New York Amsterdam News, 1962): Robinson wrote regular columns for the New York Amsterdam News, a prominent Black newspaper. In these columns, he advocated for economic opportunities for Black Americans and challenged discriminatory practices in business and sports.

“It is the duty and responsibility of each and every one of us to refuse to accept the faintest sign or token of prejudice. It does not matter whether it is directed against us or against others. Racial prejudice is not only a vicious disease, it is contagious.”

  1. How did Robinson’s economic perspectives and activities promote civil rights?
  2. How did Robinson’s status as a former athlete and business executive shape his particular form of civil rights activism?

Robinson’s Final Public Statement (October 15, 1972): This statement came nine days before Robinson’s death during a ceremony honoring the 25th anniversary of his breaking baseball’s color barrier. Despite the celebratory occasion, Robinson used the platform to highlight ongoing inequalities in Major League Baseball.

“I’d like to see a Black manager. I’d like to see the day when there’s a Black man coaching at third base.”

  1. What does this statement reveal about Robinson’s assessment of baseball’s progress on racial equality since 1947? Why would Robinson choose this particular moment to highlight the status of Black Athletes? How does it add to the statements historical significance?
  2. How long did it take for Robinson’s wish to be fulfilled? What does this reveal about institutional resistance to social change? What does this reveal about Robinson’s impact on Baseball and American society?
  1. How did the Brooklyn Dodgers both reflect and shape Brooklyn’s identity and how did their departure impact the region? Use specific examples for both.
  2. What lessons can be learned from the Dodgers story about the relationship between sports teams or cultural institutions and a community’s identity? Provide one modern example.
  • The Jackie Robinson Foundation Archives
  • Papers of the NAACP (Library of Congress)
  • Robinson, Jackie. I Never Had It Made (autobiography)*
  • Robinson, Rachel. Jackie Robinson: An Intimate Portrait*
  • Tygiel, Jules. Baseball’s Great Experiment
  • Long, Michael G. First Class Citizenship: The Civil Rights Letters of Jackie Robinson
  • Rampersad, Arnold. Jackie Robinson: A Biography
  • Long, Michael. 42 Today: Jackie Robinson and His Legacy
  • Long, Michael G. First Class Citizenship: The Civil Rights Letters of Jackie Robinson
  • Burns, Ken. Jackie Robinson (documentary)

This worksheet is based on an article originally published by PBS American Experience, written by Eduardo Obregón Pagán.

In the shadows of Los Angeles’ urban development lies the story of Chavez Ravine, a once-thriving Mexican-American community sacrificed for the creation of Dodger’s Stadium. This rural enclave near downtown Los Angeles maintained a tight-knit, self-sufficient character despite lacking basic city services. Residents grew their own food, raised livestock, and fostered strong community bonds through local institutions like their Catholic church, elementary school, and neighborhood businesses.

The community’s fate changed dramatically in the post-World War II era. Initially, Chavez Ravine was designated for a federally-funded public housing development. Residents were forced to sell their homes at below-market prices with promises they would receive priority housing in the new development. Many families complied, believing the government’s promises.

However, the story took a decisive turn when Brooklyn Dodgers owner Walter O’Malley sought a new location for his team. Los Angeles investors, eager to attract a major sports franchise, offered Chavez Ravine as the perfect stadium site. In the politically charged McCarthy era, city leadership abandoned the housing project, labeling it as too “communist,” and voters approved the stadium plan in a referendum.

Community resistance formed as remaining residents organized, created petitions, and testified at city meetings about their rights to their homes and land. Their efforts ultimately failed when, on May 9, 1959 – known as “Black Friday” – sheriff’s deputies forcibly removed the last families from their homes. Bulldozers quickly moved in, destroying all traces of the once-vibrant neighborhoods. The promised replacement housing never materialized for those who had initially complied with orders to sell their properties.

Dodger Stadium rose from these ruins, becoming a celebrated landmark for baseball fans while simultaneously standing as what many consider “a monument to the power of wealth over the impoverished.” The stadium represents the racialized nature of urban renewal policies and the unjust displacement of marginalized communities in favor of commercial interests.

This history demonstrates several significant patterns that continue to resonate in American urban development: racial and economic injustice in planning decisions, broken promises to vulnerable communities, tensions between public housing needs and commercial development, and the erasure of marginalized histories from popular narratives. From a legal perspective, O’Malley & The Dodgers operated within existing law – the land acquisition occurred through government processes, was approved by voters, and evictions were executed by law enforcement. However, ethical questions linger about a process that exploited residents with limited political power and the acceptance of land obtained through broken promises. The story of Chavez Ravine remains relevant today as cities continue to wrestle with questions of development, displacement, gentrification, and whose interests take priority in urban planning decisions.

The story of Chavez Ravine’s transformation from a Mexican-American community to the site of Dodger Stadium represents one of baseball’s most complex historical chapters, yet it remains unfamiliar to many fans and virtually erased from the popular baseball narrative. Baseball’s dominant stories traditionally focus on on-field achievements.. The mythology of Dodger Stadium emphasizes its picturesque setting, perfect sightlines, and the excitement of the Dodgers’ arrival in Los Angeles rather than examining the displacement that preceded it. When the Dodgers moved to Los Angeles in 1958, the media celebrated the economic benefits and civic pride the team would bring rather than investigating the local community costs.

Additionally, baseball’s gatekeepers (team and league officials, journalists, TV & marketing execs, and fans) have traditionally reflected baseball’s power structures. The voices and perspectives of displaced Mexican-American residents had little representation in the game’s official story.

More recently, as sports history has become more inclusive and critical, the Chavez Ravine story has gained increased attention through academic studies, documentaries, and community remembrance projects. However, these efforts remain peripheral to mainstream baseball coverage, which continues to celebrate ballparks without fully acknowledging any complicated origins.

For baseball to fully reckon with this history would require confronting uncomfortable questions about who benefits from and who pays the price for the growth of the sports industry across the world – a conversation that challenges the game’s preferred self-image as an innocent pastime above politics and social conflict.

  1. How has baseball’s storytelling traditions (which emphasizes baseball’s positive impact on communities) contributed to the erasure of the Chavez Ravine displacement story?
  2. How might the Chavez Ravine controversy further complicate Walter O’Malley’s legacy in New York’s baseball history?
  3. What does the Dodgers departure from Brooklyn and their relocation to LA teach us about community dynamics and professional sports teams business decisions?

Underground Railroad Sites in New York’s Southern Tier

Source[1] 

The Underground Railroad was a network of churches, safe houses and community centers that led thousands of people escaping slavery to freedom. Northern states like Pennsylvania played a major role in the progression of freedom, and the trail made several stops in New York, including the Southern Tier counties along the Pennsylvania border. Here are some of the local landmarks near Binghamton that played a role in the success of the Underground Railroad, including private homes and churches across the region.

This Whitney Point home was owned by George Seymore in the late 1850s and was a spot along the Underground Railroad network. During that time most people who lived in the area knew the Seymore home was being used to hide and assist escaped enslaved people. According to former Broome County historian Gerald Smith, the home was later converted into an antique shop called the Underground Antiques and eventually turned into a private residence. 

The Cyrus Gates Farmstead was once used as a sanctuary along the Underground Railroad. On 30 acres in Maine, Cyrus Gates’ home — referred to as “Gates’ white elephant” — was built in the 1850s by a New York City architect. It was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1999. Gates was a cartographer and surveyor, as well as a vocal abolitionist. Up in the attic, the Gates home had an emergency hiding place. Tucked behind a hidden panel in the back of a cupboard, escaped slaves could crawl into a 10-by-20 foot secret room in the house’s south wing attic, crouching so as not to hit the four-foot-tall ceiling, when they needed to hide.

Members of Park Church, originally named the First Independent Congregational Church of Elmira, were active participants in the Underground Railroad. They included John W. Jones, an escaped slave who helped over 800 travel to freedom through Elmira and Jervis Langdon, a local financier who helped Frederick Douglass escape from slavery. The church offered shelter, provided food and finances, and took legal action against slavery. They also prepared a petition to officially record their stance as an anti-slavery church and in 1871, it became Park Church. In 2006, the church was added to the National Park Service’s Network to Freedom program. 

During the mid-19th century, the home of Dr. Stephen D. Hand stood at the site of the current Binghamton City Hall. After moving to Binghamton and starting a successful medical practice, he took an active role in the Underground Railroad. Hand opened his doors to those seeking freedom. His home was near two existing African American churches — the Bethel Church and the First Colored Methodist Episcopal Church — which created a trio of spots in close proximity offering help. The home was demolished in the 1960s and Binghamton City Hall took its place. The building has a plaque to recognize the significant role the Hand home placed in the Underground Railroad. 

The church, founded in 1838, is a stop on the Downtown Binghamton Freedom Trail, recognized for its role in the Underground Railroad. The historic marker at the site shares its history as originally the AME Zion Church, a site that was a place of worship and safe spot to rest and receive help while traveling. Rev. Jermain Loguen, director of the Underground Railroad in Syracuse, was also pastor at the church in the 1860s.


Tulsa Massacre was Erased from History

My partner Felicia Hirata, friends Judy and Ruben Stern, and I were discussing the movie Killers of the Flower Moon and conversation shifted to the 1921 Tulsa Massacre. Felicia, Ruben, and I are all retired New York City high school social studies teachers and we realized we had never taught about the massacre in class, and we were unsure of whether we even knew about it when we were teachers. It had effectively been erased from history.

As a high school teacher, I did introduce my students, almost all African American and Latinx, to post-World War 1 racist attacks on African Americans with the poem “If We Must Die” by Claude McKay that was first published in the July 1919 of The Liberator coupled with photographs and newspaper headlines of the 1919 Chicago race riot showing white mobs and police attacking Blacks in the street. The McKay poem is especially powerful and resonated with students because it is a call for resistance.

https://alansingerphd.medium.com/the-100th-anniversary-of-the-tulsa-race-massacre-5cee3a689f6f[1]

I now teach social studies methods at Hofstra University in suburban Long Island, New York. After our discussion of Killers of the Flower Moon and the Tulsa Massacre, I decided to review how the post-World War 1 race riots and the Tulsa massacre were covered in the textbooks I used as a high school teacher and in more recent editions used by teachers today, books my students will likely use when they become teachers, books that continue to minimize the role that race and racism played in American history.

Ruben and I both taught United States history at Franklin K. Lane High School in the 1980s using Lewis Todd and Merle Curti’s Triumph of the American Nation as our primary textbook. Chapter 27 “New Directions in American Life Changing Ways (1900-1920)” ignores race, in fact the book’s index does not include race or racism as a category (Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1986). After discussing World War 1, the authors skipped directly to the “Golden Twenties” where the post-war race riots were ignored. In a later chapter, “Decades in Contrast Changing ways (1920-1939),” “Black migration to the North,” “Disappointed hopes,” and “The riots of 1919” are briefly mentioned, but not what happened in Tulsa. Students learned from the book that “Frightened whites, convinced that black Americans were trying to threaten them and gain control, responded with more violence. Police forces, ill-equipped to deal with riots, usually sided with whites” (751). Perhaps even more disturbing than the omissions, is this justification offered for the white rioters.

I also used Thomas Bailey and David Kennedy, The American Pageant, 7th Edition (1983, D.C. Heath) with a college-level dual enrollment class. A section in Chapter 39, “The Politics of Boom and Bust, 1920-1932” titled “The Aftermath of War” includes a paragraph explaining that “Vicious race riots also rocked the Republic in years following the Great War . . . [I]n the immediate post-war period, blacks were brutally taught that the North was not a Promised land. A racial reign of terror descended on Chicago in the summer of 1919, leaving twenty-three blacks and fifteen whites dead. Clashes also inflamed Knoxville, Omaha, Washington, and other cities.” There was also no mention of 1921 and Tulsa massacre in this textbook. Unlike Todd and Curti, Bailey and Kennedy didn’t justify the behavior of the white rioters but by suggesting that these were somehow clashes between Blacks and whites, it takes the onus off white mobs killing African Americans and driving them out of housing and jobs.

Even Howard Zinn’s widely used A People’s History of the United States, first published in 1980 by Harper Collins and reissued most recently in 2015 by Harper Perennial, the most progressive history of the United States that I used as a reference, falls short. Zinn included the post-war strike wave but not the race riots in 1919 or the destruction of the Black community of Tulsa in 1921.

I read From Slavery to Freedom, A History of Negro Americans, 3rd edition by John Hope Franklin and Alfred A. Moss, Jr. (1969, Vintage) as an undergraduate at CCNY in a class on American Nego History during the 1968-1969 school year. Unfortunately, it did not have much influence on the American history curriculum.

In the 7th edition (published in 1994 by Knopf), Franklin and Moss have a chapter “Democracy Escapes” about conditions faced by African Americans in the United States in the post-World War 1 era after approximately 380,000 African Americans served in the army and about 200,000 were stationed in the European theater (346-360; Goldenberg, 2022). Despite welcoming parades in major American cities, The Crisis reported “This country of ours, despite all its better souls have done and dreamed, is yet a shameful land. It lynches . . . It disenfranchises its own citizens . . . It encourages ignorance . . .It steals from us . . . It insults us . . . We return. We return from fighting. We return fighting. Make way for Democracy! We saved it in France, and by the Great Jehovah, we will save it in the U.S.A., or know the reason why” (347).

Between June and December 1919, Red Summer, Franklin and Moss estimate there were twenty-five anti-Black race riots in American cities (349). The most serious riot was in Chicago where there were thirty-eight fatalities, over 500 reported injuries, and 1,000 families left homeless (350-351).  The book also briefly describes a “race war” in Tulsa, Oklahoma in June 1921 where nine whites and 21 blacks were killed.

On Long Island, New York, the most widely used United States history textbook is Holt McDougal’s The Americans by Gerald Danzer, Jorge Kor de Alva, Larry Krieger, Louis Wilson, and Nancy Woloch. The 2012 edition has two references to the post-World War I racial climate. A “Historical Spotlight” box in a chapter on “The First World War” explains that “Racial prejudice against African Americans in the North sometimes took violent forms. However, the 1917 East St. Louis riot seems to be excused because “White workers were furious over the hiring of African Americans as strikebreakers at a munitions plant.” The 1919 Chicago riot is also blamed on African Americans who “retaliated” when a Black teenager was stoned to death by “white bathers” after he swam into “water off a ‘white beach’” (600). A later chapter on the Harlem Renaissance mentions that “Northern cities in general had not welcomed the massive influx of African Americans. Tensions had escalated in the years prior to 1920, culminating in the summer of 1919, in approximately 25 urban race riots” (659). This section does not explain who was rioting and who was being attacked.

The 12th edition of The American Pageant (2002), widely used in Advanced Placement classes, added Lisabeth Cohen as a co-author. A section on “Workers in Wartime” included the “sudden appearance” of African Americans in “previously all-white areas sometimes sparked interracial violence,” equally blamed on Blacks and whites (711). A photograph of a victim of the 1919 Chicago race riot lying on the ground face down includes the caption “The policeman arrived too late to spare this victim from being pelted by stones from an angry mob” (711). From the picture, it is difficult to tell that the victim was African American and he is not identified as such in the caption, although the police standing above him are clearly white. Members of the mob and its victims are not identified, and the caption inaccurately suggests that white police were trying to protect the Black community. The 16th edition, published in 2015, notes in Chapter 32 “American Life in the Roaring Twenties, 1919-1929” that a “ new racial pride also blossomed in the northern black communities that burgeoned during and after the war,” but contained no mention of the race riots in 1919 or 1921 (749) and the chapter on “The Politics of Boom and Bust, 1920-1932” dropped the reference to “vicious race riots” in the 1983 edition.

The fourth edition of Making America (Houghton Mifflin, 2006) by Carol Berkin, Christopher Miller, Robert Cherny, and James Gormly references the East St. Louis and Tulsa riots in the index and race riots are paired with lynchings as examples of the conditions faced by returning Black veteran after World War 1. Unlike other texts, this book clearly identifies that “white mobs” were attacking African Americans in East St. Louis, Washington DC, Chicago, Omaha, Tulsa, and Detroit (694, 706, 732). It is also one of the few textbooks to list racism in the index.

America’s History 9th edition for the AP Course by James Henretta, Rebecca Edward, Eric Hunderaker and Robert Self, published by Bedford, Freeman & Worth in 2018, includes Chapter 21, “Unsettled Prosperity: From War to Depression, 1919-1932.” This chapter has a section titled “Racial Backlash.” White attacks on Black workers and communities are presented as a response to the Great Migration during World War I and competition for jobs and housing. The section references 1917 riots in East St. Louis, Illinois where white mobs “burned more than 300 black homes and murdered between 50 and 150 black men, women and children”; the Chicago race riot of 1919; the Rosewood, Florida Massacre; and the “horrific incident” in Tulsa. The Tulsa “incident” did receive significant coverage, about half of a paragraph. “Sensational, false reports of an alleged rape helped incite white mobs who resented growing black prosperity. Anger focused on the 8,000 residents of Tulsa’s prosperous Greenwood district, locally known as ‘the black Wall Street.’ The mobs – helped by National Guardsmen, who arrested African Americans who resisted – burned thirty-five blocks of Greenwood and killed several dozen people. The city’s leading paper acknowledged that ‘semi-organized bands of white men systematically applied the torch, while others shot on site men of color.’ It took a decade for black residents to rebuild Greenwood” (653-654).

The best coverage of the 1917-1921 anti-Black race riots is probably Eric Foner’s AP text Give Me Liberty (6th edition, Norton). Chapter 19 “Safe for Democracy: The United States and World War I,” has a section on “Racial Violence, North and South.” It reports on the East St. Louis and Chicago attacks by white mobs on Black workers and communities, lynchings in the South targeting returning Black war veterans, a bloody attack on striking Black sharecroppers in Arkansas, and Tulsa. Foner describes Tulsa as “The worst race riot in American history . . . when more than 300 blacks were killed and over 10,000 left homeless after a white mob, including police and National Guardsmen, burned an all-black section of the city to the ground. The Tulsa riot erupted after s group of black veterans tried to prevent the lynching of a youth who had accidently tripped and fallen on a white female elevator operator, causing rumors of rape to sweep the city” (766).

Over one hundred years after the Tulsa Massacre, the United States needs to stop pretending that racism ended with the American Civil War and take steps to address the lingering impact of slavery and systemic racism on American society. An important step would be to ensure that high school students learn about events from the past that continue to shape the present.


Tragedy on the Erie Canal: The Harrowing Saga of William and Catherine Harris

https[1] ://www.syracuse.com/living/2025/02/tragedy-on-the-erie-canal-the-harrowing-saga-of-william-and-catherine-harris-and-their-journey-to-freedom.html

Despite widespread and prolonged opposition in many northern cities, President Millard Fillmore affixed his signature to the new Fugitive Slave Act on September 18, 1850. It unleashed a torrent of fear amongst the ever-growing populations of free Blacks and freedom seekers that at any minute slave catchers, who now possessed the ability to forcibly enlist civilians to aid in the recapture of those purported to be enslaved.

In Syracuse, already a hotbed of agitation against the odious legislation for several months, local leaders called for a mass meeting at City Hall on October 4 to further demonstrate their collective resistance. Word of the upcoming gathering reached Rev. Jermain Loguen, who was in Troy on missionary work for the African Methodist Episcopal Church. He decided he must return to the city he called home since 1841 to lend his righteous voice to the proceedings.

Following the speech of his friend, Samuel Ringgold Ward, the Black publisher of The Impartial Citizen, Loguen addressed the massive crowd that spilled out of the hall out onto Montgomery and Market streets with the courage and eloquence that characterized his tireless fight against the inhumane institution he’d escaped almost 15 years prior. He declared that he would not be taken into slavery. “What is my life if I am to be a slave in Tennessee . . . I will not live a slave, and if force is employed to re-enslave me, I shall make preparations to meet the crisis as becomes a man.”

For Loguen, those preparations did not include uprooting his wife Caroline and their children and fleeing to Canada, despite the numerous admonitions of friends to do so. Protected as he was in some regard by geography and a strong network of allies, Loguen could make this bold stand. For many other freedom seekers elsewhere in the Union, particularly those in border states like Pennsylvania, the Fugitive Slave Act left them no choice but to continue running further north.

Less than three weeks after Loguen’s stirring call to action, the city of Syracuse found itself at the center of a human tragedy that illustrated perfectly the fear, anxiety, and cruelty engendered by the new legislation. On October 24, 1850, under the headline “Attempted Suicide of a Fugitive,” the readers of the Syracuse Standard, a paper friendly to the cause of abolition, first learned of the tragic ordeal of the Harris family. In response to the passage of the Fugitive Slave Act, William and Catherine Harris and their 3-year-old daughter had fled Philadelphia days earlier in the hopes of gaining safe transport to Canada via Rochester.

Initial reports stated that Harris escaped his own enslavement in South Carolina years earlier, eventually settling in Philadelphia. According to the testimony that Catherine later gave to Syracuse Police Justice Sylvester House, the two were married in 1843 and lived a quiet and peaceful life, and a few years later the couple welcomed the birth of their daughter. Terrified that he might be captured under the auspices of the new law, William made the fateful decision to uproot his family, and they made their way to New York City. There, they procured tickets to Rochester via the Erie Canal.

The real trouble began once they reached Albany on Thursday, October 17. As Mrs. Harris relayed in her testimony, having purchased their tickets for passage to Rochester they boarded their boat. The problems started almost immediately. Captain Hartwell C. Webster refused to return the Harris’s tickets. They were stuck in the cargo hold with large quantities of clams and oysters, delicacies that had become wildly popular all along the canal route in the 25 years since its completion.

The clams and oysters belonged to a merchant named Silas Cowell, who along with one of the boat hand’s, Jeremiah Cluney, began harassing the Harris family that evening. Somehow, they became aware of William’s status as a fugitive. Compounding their predicament was the fact that Mrs. Harris was of markedly lighter skin tone, being described in the New York Tribune [2] as a “mulatto woman, of interesting appearance.”

 According to Harris’ testimony, Cluney and Cowell continued threatening to handing them over to slave catchers saying, “no n—– could pass this canal without being taken.” Preying on their fear, these men tormented William and Catherine and their three year-old-daughter for the next two days. They even attempted to extort money from William for passage, aware that the Captain had taken their tickets to Rochester. Mrs. Harris stated that Cluney and Cowell made reference to Syracuse as “the place where they said we would be taken.” After days of ceaseless torment, Catherine Harris could not take it anymore. As she stated in her testimony, she “wants to die rather than be taken by the kidnappers.”

Convinced that the slave catchers were waiting on them in Syracuse, she jumped through the moving boat’s window and into the canal with her daughter in her arms somewhere between Frankfort and Utica. Somehow, she was fished out of the nearly eight feet of water. In the commotion, her daughter slipped out of her grasp. The captain refused to stop the boat to look for her body. William went on deck to beg the captain to stop the boat, but to no avail. Cluney threatened to cut his throat if he did not go back below decks. Their daughter was assumed drowned.

Sometime around 10 p.m., on Monday, Catherine and William retreated to the cargo hold, the depths of their misery unimaginable “awaiting their doom.” In her testimony, Mrs. Harris said Cowell confronted them again saying that the crew was going to “take his head off.” William responded that he would rather do it himself. He took his shaving razor and sliced his own throat. For the next five hours, William lay bleeding next to his wife. All the while, Cluney and Cowell sat there playing cards, yelling racist epithets at him and threatening to “knock his brains out” if he so much as moved.

As the morning sun appeared in the skies outside Canastota on Tuesday, October 22, William was able to jump off the boat and began walking on the towpath towards Syracuse. Catherine recounted being able to see him alongside the boat, while Cluney, acting on the orders of the captain, threatened William with violence if he attempted to rejoin his aggrieved wife. As such, he walked wounded and bleeding alongside the boat for over 20 miles until he collapsed by the Lodi locks, near Beech Street. Catherine reported losing sight of him around this time as the boat continued on into Clinton Square. She remained on the boat as it continued west towards Rochester. There were no slave catchers waiting there. It had all been a grotesque and murderous charade.

According to the reports in the Syracuse Journal, William Harris regained consciousness and threw himself into the canal in front of a moving boat just west of the Lodi locks. The boat’s Captain, V.R. Ogden managed to rescue Harris and bring him into Clinton Square, where he was taken and treated by Dr. Hiram Hoyt, a Syracuse physician with abolitionist sympathies. Though Harris was unable to talk due to the wound on his neck, somehow, he communicated his ordeal to Hoyt, who in turn got word to Rev. John Lisle, a Black preacher in the AME Zion Church and pastor of the Second Congregational Church on Fayette and Almond streets. Rev. Lisle offered to head west towards Rochester to find Catherine, which he did at Montezuma. According to Lisle’s testimony, he encountered no resistance from Captain Webster nor the boat’s crew, a far cry from the harrowing experience of the Harrises.

Upon their return to Syracuse, Catherine provided the testimony upon which this essay is based. As a result of her damning testimony, Justice House issued arrest warrants for Webster, Cluney, and Cowell. The three men were detained in Rochester and brought to Syracuse on charges of assault and harassment. Unconvinced by their testimony, which painted William Harris as a disorderly drunk, they were found guilty, fined and jailed.

According to historian Angela Murphy, the Harrises continued their journey to freedom in Canada, though as a family of two instead of three. Their unimaginable suffering found its way into newspapers all over the union from Wisconsin to Maine, Massachusetts and Pennsylvania, Virginia, and even Georgia. It helped galvanize the opposition to the Fugitive Slave Law in a way that rhetoric could not.

Here in Syracuse, the memory of the Harrises persisted, actuating more strident resistance. This resistance would come to a head less than a year later in one of the most profound acts of civil disobedience of the period, when a righteous mob freed Jerry from his jail cell just a few steps from the Clinton Street bridge where Dr. Hoyt found William Harris bleeding from a self-inflicted wound.

“On Tuesday afternoon a colored man named Wm Harris, attempted to commit suicide by cutting his throat with a razor, on the towing path, about two miles east of this city. Harris is from South Carolina, and has been residing in Philadelphia for several years past, but on the passage of the Fugitive Slave Law became alarmed for his safety, and started for Canada, accompanied by his wife and child. In New York he procured a passage ticket for Rochester, but at Albany his ticket was taken from him and destroyed by some persons who threatened to deliver him up unless he paid for his passage again. He succeeded in getting as far as Utica, when his fears were again excited by threats of being taken back to Slavery, and says he was informed by persons belonging to the boat that he would certainly be arrested at Syracuse. He became so much alarmed by these repeated threats, (Whether made in jest or earnest it is now impossible to say) that he determined to commit suicide, and advised his wife to drown herself and their child. Taking his razor he jumped on the towing path and made an attempt to destroy himself by cutting his throat, inflicting a terrible wound, and fainted from loss of blood. His wife, with the child in her arms jumped into the canal about the same time, but was taken out by the hands-on-board the boat. The child was not recovered. The wife was carried west through this city, on the boat, [3] leaving the husband upon the tow path.” Source: Syracuse Standard, October 24, 1850. 

“I was a slave; I knew the dangers I was exposed to. I had made up my mind as to the course I was to take. On that score I needed no counsel, nor did the colored citizens generally. They had taken their stand-they would not be taken back to slavery. If to shoot down their assailants should forfeit their lives, such result was the least of the evil. They will have their liberties or die in their defence. What is life to me if I am to be a slave in Tennessee? My neighbors! I have lived with you many years, and you know me. My home is here, and my children were born here. I am bound to Syracuse by pecuniary interests, and social and family bonds. And do you think I can be taken away from you and from my wife and children, and be a slave in Tennessee? Has the President and his Secretary sent this enactment up here, to you,

Some kind and good friends advise me to quit my country, and stay in Canada, until this tempest is passed. I doubt not the sincerity of such counsellors. But my conviction is strong, that their advice comes from lack of knowledge of themselves and the case in hand. I believe that our own bosoms are charged to the brim with qualities that will smite to the earth the villains who may interfere to enslave any man in Syracuse.

I don’t respect this law- I don’t fear it- I won’t obey it! It outlaws me, and I outlaw it, and the men who attempt to enforce it on me. I place the governmental officials on the ground that they place me. I will not live a slave, and if force is employed to re-enslave me, I shall make preparations to meet the crisis as becomes a man.” Source: The Rev. J.W. Loguen, As A Slave and As a freeman. A Narrative of Real Life (Syracuse, 1859), pp. 391-93; Aptheker 306-308


Governed by Despots: John Swanson Jacobs Chronicles Enslavement and Resistance

(reprinted with permission from New York Almanack (https://www.newyorkalmanack.com/2024/12/john-swanson-jacobs-enslavement/)

The University of Chicago Press recently published a unique account of an escape from enslavement in North Carolina decades before the Civil War. The United States Governed by Six Hundred Thousand Despots (2024) by John Swanson Jacobs tells of his escape from enslavement by North Carolina plantation owner and Congressional Representative Samuel Sawyer in 1838 while he and the slaveholder were in transit through the City of New York. Jacobs eventually made it to Australia where his story was published serially in 1855 by the Sydney Empire. It was later republished in 1861 in London, UK under the title “A True Tale of Slavery” by The Leisure Hour: A Family Journal of Instruction and Recreation. The 1861 version of Jacob’s story is available online at the website Documenting the American South.

John Swanson Jacobs was born in 1815 in Edenton, North Carolina, the younger brother of his better-known sister Harriet Jacobs, author of Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl (1861). Harriet Jacobs originally published her book under the pseudonym Linda Brent, possibly to protect those who remained enslaved at home. In the book she referred to her brother John as “William” and Samuel Sawyer, the white father of her two children who “owned” both them and John, as “Mr. Sands.” John Swanson Jacobs, safely in Australia, published under his own name.

In 1838, Sawyer traveled north because he and his fiancé planned to be married in Chicago, Illinois where she had family. He was able to bring an enslaved John Swanson Jacobs with him to New York State because although slavery had been abolished there in 1828, state law permitted enslavers visiting or residing in New York part-time to maintain slaves within their households for up to nine months. This statute was not repealed until 1841.

The following is an excerpt from chapter 5 of A TRUE TALE OF SLAVERY that was published in The Leisure Hour: A Family Journal of Instruction and Recreation (No. 478–February 21, 1861). In this excerpt, Jahn Swanson Jacobs describes his escape from slavery while in New York City.

“THE latter end of the third year after I was sold, my master was elected Member of Congress. I was ordered to get ready for Washington . . .  After my master had been there a short time, he went to board with Mrs. P—-, who had two young nieces here, to one of whom he was soon engaged to be married. As good luck would have it, this young lady had a sister living in Chicago, and no place would suit her like that to get married in . . . Everything was ready, and the hoped-for time came. He took his intended, and off we started for the West. When we were taking the boat at Baltimore for Philadelphia, he came up to me and said, “Call me Mr. Sawyer; and if anybody asks you who you are, and where you are going, tell them that you are a free man, and hired by me.”

We stopped two or three days at the Niagara Falls; from thence we went to Buffalo, and took the boat for Chicago; Mr. Sawyer had been here but a few days before he was taken sick. In five weeks from the time of his arrival here, he was married and ready to leave for home. On our return, we went into Canada. Here I wanted to leave him, but there was my sister and a friend of mine at home in slavery . . . I tried to get a seaman’s protection from the English Custom-house, but could not without swearing to a lie, which I did not feel disposed to do.

We left here for New York, where we stopped three or four days. I went to see some of my old friends from home, who I knew were living there. I told them that I wanted their advice. They knew me, they knew my master, and they knew my friends also. “Now tell me my duty,” said I. The answer was a very natural one, “Look out for yourself first.” I weighed the matter in my mind, and found the balance in favour of stopping. If I returned along with my master, I could do my sister no good, and could see no further chance of my own escape. I then set myself to work to get my clothes out of the Astor House Hotel, where we were stopping; I brought them out in small parcels, as if to be washed. This job being done, the next thing was to get my trunk to put them in. I went to Mr. Johnson’s shop, which was in sight of the Astor House Hotel, and told him that I wanted to get my trunk repaired.

The next morning I took my trunk in my hand with me: when I went down, whom should I see at the foot of the steps but Mr. Sawyer? I walked up to him, and showed him a rip in the top of the trunk, opening it at the same time that he might see that I was not running off. He told me that I could change it, or get a new one if I liked. I thanked him, and told him we were very near home now, and with a little repair the old one would do. At this we parted. I got a friend to call and get my trunk, and pack up my things for me, that I might be able to get them at any minute. Mr. Sawyer told me to get everything of his in, and be ready to leave for home the next day. I went to all the places where I had carried anything of his, and where they were not done, I got their cards and left word for them to be ready by the next morning. What I had got were packed in his trunk; what I had not been able to get, there were the cards for them in his room.

They dine at the Astor at three o’clock; they leave the room at four o’clock; at half-past four o’clock I was to be on board the boat for Providence. Being unable to write myself at that time, and unwilling to leave him in suspense, I got a friend to write as follows: — “Sir–I have left you, not to return; when I have got settled, I will give you further satisfaction. No longer yours, JOHN S. JACOB.”

This note was to be put into the post-office in time for him to get it the next morning. I waited on him and his wife at dinner. As the town clock struck four, I left the room. I then went through to New Bedford, where I stopped for a few months . . . The lawyer I have quite a friendly feeling for, and would be pleased to meet him as a countryman and a brother, but not as a master.”

Once free, John Swanson Jacobs moved to New England where he became an active abolitionist. His efforts took him to Rochester, New York and vicinity on a number of occasions and to New York City at least three times, in May 1849, October 1850, and July 1862. On May 11, 1849, the New York Herald printed an account of a speech by Jacobs at an American Anti-Slavery Society meeting where he called on attendees to make it “disreputable” for people who claimed to be Christians to hold other people in bondage. According to North Star on October 24, 1850, Jacobs spoke in New York City calling for active resistance to fugitive slave laws following the seizure of James “Hamlet” Hamilton by slavecatchers and on July 28, 1862, New York Independent reported on an interview with Jacobs where he recounted his experience as a cook on a British ship, with the support of British authorities in the Bahamas, that was attempting to enter the port of Charleston, South Carolina in violation of the federal blockade of Southern ports (252-258). Excerpts from these articles follow.

“A slaveholder named Skinner, who was a skinner in every sense of the word, was in the habit of coming every year, to visit his brother, Re. Dr. Skinner, who . . . lived at 160 Green[e] street; and yet the baby-stealing, women-whipping tyrant never received a rebuke from his reverend brother, at whose table he sat . . . If anyone asked him what must be done to abolish slavery, his answer was, that it must cease to be respectable. They must make it disreputable, and then slaveholders would be ashamed of it . . . If they had less of religion, and more of Christianity, it would be all for the better” (252-254).

“My colored brethren, if you have not sword, I say to you, sell your garments and buy one . . . I would, my friends, advise you to show a front to our tyrants, and arm yourselves; aye, I would advise the women to have their knives too . . . I advise you to trample on this bill, and I further advise you to let us go on immediately, and act like men” (256).

“[A] very intelligent colored man, formerly a slave in North Carolina, but recently for several years a resident of England, called at our office the other day, and related facts showing that British vessels are stilled engaged in running our blockade, and that the British officials in the Bahamas are, if possible, more inimical to our Union than are the same class of people at home . . . He shipped as a cook on board the steamship Lloyds, at London . . . ‘for Havana and any of the West Indies Islands’ . . . the captain (Smith) announced to the crew that he designed to run the blockade before Charleston, and offered three months pay extra to such as would remain with the ship . . . Jacobs refused to go to Charleston at any price whatever, and demanded, what was his undoubted right, that he be sent home to London. After various efforts on the part of Capt. Smith to indure (sic) Jacobs to either go to Charleston or to settle and sign a satisfaction, he attempted coercion. He had Jacobs taken before a police magistrate to answer the charge of having deserted the ship . . . The law was all on the side of Jacobs, but the public sentiment of Nassau was so strongly against him, and in favor of the unlawful and contraband trade with the Rebels” (257-258).

The John W. Jones Story

Reprinted with permission from https://www.johnwjonesmuseum.org/the-john-w-jones-story

John W. Jones became an active agent in the Underground Railroad in 1851. In 1854, the Northern Central railroad tracks from Williamsport, Pennsylvania to Elmira, New York were completed. Jones made an arrangement with Northern Central employees and hid the fugitives in the 4 o’clock “Freedom Baggage Car,” directly to Niagara Falls via Watkins Glen and Canandaigua. Most of Jones’s “baggage” eventually landed in St. Catharines, Ontario.

By 1860, Jones aided in the escape of 800 runaway slaves. He usually received the fugitives in parties of six to ten, but there were times he found shelter for up to 30 men, women, and children a night. It is believed Jones sheltered many in his own home behind First Baptist Church. Of those 800, none were captured or returned to the South.

Jones became the sexton for Woodlawn Cemetery in 1859. One of his primary roles was to bury each deceased Confederate soldier from the Elmira Prison Camp. Of the 2,973 prisoners who Jones buried, only seven are listed as unknown. Jones kept such precise records that on December 7, 1877, the federal government declared the burial site a national cemetery.

Historically, the house was the private residence of John W. Jones and his family, changed ownership several times, and was last used as rental property that fell into disrepair. Condemned by the City of Elmira in 1997, Lucy Brown brought it to the public’s attention and with a group of concerned citizens, saved it from demolition. The building currently stands on Jones’ original farm property and the site will continue to be visually interpreted as a farm.

The museum highlights the history of African Americans who settled in New York and the activity of local abolitionists, emphasizing Elmira’s role as the only regular agency and published station on the Underground Railroad between Philadelphia and St. Catharine’s, Canada, and explore Mr. Jones’ community involvement and his relationship with his contemporaries.

John W. Jones was born a slave June 21, 1817, on a plantation south of Leesburg, Virginia. He was owned by the Ellzey family, an influential family who treated their slaves with perhaps more kindness than some plantation owners did. Miss Sarah (Sally) Ellzey was fond of John and was a good friend to him. But she was getting on in years and John was concerned about what would happen to him once she passed away.

On June 3, 1844, at the age of 27, John fled north to the place his mother had told him about “where there is no slavery.” It took one month for John, his two half-brothers, George and Charles, and Jefferson Brown and John Smith from an adjoining estate to walk from Virginia to Elmira, New York, a distance of about 300 miles. The route they followed was part of the Underground Railroad coming up through Pennsylvania and into New York by way of Williamsport, Canton, Alba and South Creek. In South Creek they reached the farm of Dr. Nathaniel Smith, where they crawled into the hay mow of his immense barn and went to sleep, more dead than alive. They remained there over night. Mrs. Smith discovered them and cooked food and took it to them. This is the Mrs. Smith whose grave in Woodlawn Cemetery, just beyond the Langdon plot, always had fresh flowers on it and no one knew where they came from. After John Jones died, there were no more mysterious fresh flowers.

John Jones was an ambitious man and never idle. The first thing he did when he arrived in Elmira was to offer to cut wood in exchange for 50¢ for Mrs. John Culp, Colonel John Hendy’s daughter. Another early job he took was in a tallow and candle store working for Seth Kelly. John wanted to get an education, but was refused at first because he was black. Judge Arial Standish Thurston befriended him, realized his potential and made it possible for him to receive an education – in fact, at the same school where before he had been turned down. As a result, John went to school in the winter and worked as janitor for Miss Clara Thurston’s school for young ladies on Main Street. In October, 1847, he was appointed sexton or caretaker of the first church building of the First Baptist Church that had been constituted in 1829 under the name of the Baptist Church of Southport and Elmira. The first members gathered in homes, but as the membership grew they met in a schoolhouse in Southport. By 1832, the membership had grown to the point where they decided to build their own church building. They were sold the piece of land where the Baptist Church still is today for $1.50 by Jeffrey and Elizabeth Wisner who were in-laws of the first pastor, Rev. Philander Gillett. The first building was a barn-like structure constructed at a cost of $954.

By 1848, 16 years later, the Baptists had outgrown that building and decided to build something larger. The 1863 City Directory says this building was constructed of wood, stucco and cost $8000. Mr. Jones was sexton of this second church building for the 42 years that it was in existence.

In 1854 he bought the “yellow house next to the church” from an Ezra Canfield for $500. Two years later, John Jones married Rachel Swails. Rachel’s brother was Stephen Swails, a Lieutenant in the 54th Massachusetts Regiment. If you have ever seen the movie Glory, you know the story of this famous regiment.

By 1859, Jones was already very active in Underground Railroad work. An article in The Liberator (Boston) signed J.W. Jones, Sec. said: “Resolved, That we, the colored citizens of Elmira, do hereby form ourselves into a society for the purpose of protecting ourselves against those persons, [slave-catchers] prowling through different parts of this and other States since the passing of the diabolical act of Sept. 18th, 1850, which consigns freemen of other States to that awful state of brutality which the fiendish slaveholders of the Southern States think desirable for their colored brethren, but are not willing to try it themselves.”

Arch Merrill said in his book on the UGRR, “Jones quietly took command of the Underground in Elmira, a gateway between the South and the North. It became the principal station on the ‘railroad’ between Philadelphia and the Canadian border. Jones worked closely with William Still, the chief Underground agent in Philadelphia, who forwarded parties of from six to 10 fugitives at a time to Elmira.

“Jones had many allies in Elmira. Mrs. John Culp hid runaways in her home. Other Underground leaders were Jervis Langdon; Simeon Benjamin, the founder of Elmira College; Thomas Stanley Day; S. G. Andrus; John Selover; Riggs Watrous and others. The station master concealed as many as 30 slaves at one time in his home—exactly where, he never told. He carried on his operations so secretly that only the inner circle of abolitionists knew that in a decade he dispatched nearly 800 slaves to Canada. “John Jones demonstrated his winning ways in encouraging the railroad baggage men to stow away the hundreds of men, women, and children who were spirited away to freedom.

“In 1854 the railroad from Williamsport to Elmira was completed and Jones received many more fugitives by train, to ship away in the 4 a.m. ‘Freedom Baggage Car,’ directly to Niagara Falls via Watkins Glen and Canandaigua, where the car was shifted to the New York Central. Most of Jones’s ‘baggage’ eventually landed in St. Catharine’s.”

His house right next to the church was the UGRR station of which Mr. Jones was station master. I often wonder about his wife, Rachel, who never knew how many were coming for dinner. I have also wondered if on those nights when he had 30 or more people to hide, if the church building, which he had access to, gave them shelter. There is no record that tells us this, but still, I wonder.

If you stand at the corner of West Church Street and Railroad Avenue and look north toward the Erie depot, you can envision the journey of the fugitives in the middle of the night as they go from Mr. Jones’s home, where the parking lot of First Baptist is now, up Railroad Avenue to the depot.


Wm. Still’s book about the UGRR is full of stories by the actual people involved in the work. In October, 1855, a lady wrote to Still asking, “Please give me again the direction of Hiram Wilson and the friend in Elmira, Mr. Jones, I think.” [Still, page 40]

Here is a letter written by John W. Jones to William Still:
Elmira, June 6, 1860.
Friend Wm Still:


Challenges of Teaching African American History in Secondary Schools

Imani Hinson, Romelo Green, Nefe Abamwa, and Adam Stevens presented on a panel at the 2025 conference of the American Historical Association. Hinson is a social studies teacher in the Howard County Maryland School District who formerly taught in Brooklyn and an item writer for the College Board AP African American Studies program. Green and Abamwa teach at Bellport High School in Suffolk County, New York and Stevens teaches at Brooklyn Technical High School. The session was chaired by April Francis-Taylor of Hofstra University and also included papers by Alan Singer of Hofstra University and Justin Williams of Uniondale High School.

By Imani Hinson

Each year I start my students off with a week of lessons to understand why we study history in the first place and to get students specifically to understand why varied viewpoints are so important. This year I had my students reflect on a quote from Maya Angelou and asked them why they thought some political leaders across the United States did not think African American history was important and why they thought this history was considered controversial.

My students responded with the understanding that by learning history we can hope to not repeat it but also that learning this history does not aim to make individuals feel bad for the deeds done but rather understand the historical situations in which our country was founded and the continued history that is shaping the way our country is moving forward today. Despite the pain and suffering lived by many in this country, especially African Americans, it is important to uncover truths about our shared history. The APâ African American Studies curriculum provides students with a chance to do just that; tackle tough questions, tough realities, glean an understanding of the world that they live in today, and it gives them a chance to acknowledge a history that many of them have not learned before.

The APâ curriculum has a fantastic starting place with the African Kingdoms of Mali, Songhai, the Hausa States, and more. Students are able to do a deep dive into the history of Africa that many of them had never been taught about before. A question I get often from my students is “Ms. Hinson why are we not taught this in World History or any other history class?” The truth is that a lot of this history was unknown or kept secret for many years. In my classroom, we delve into the nuances of this history so that students understand how it differs from the traditional documents and writings they usually learn about in Eurocentric history classes. I introduce them to griots and students learn that different cultures pass down history in different ways. Much of the early history we know from African civilizations was passed down orally making it much harder for historians to uncover truths about these societies.  My students learned that Christianity was in Africa before European arrival when they study about places such as Lalibela. They learn about trade starting in the 8th century along the East Coast of Africa that connect places with the Mediterranean region and Central and East Asia. Students uncover truths about the Great Zimbabwe and amazing structures, built not by Greeks or aliens, but by the local Zimbabwean people who garnered their wealth from the Indian Ocean trade routes. Timbuktu is not a fictional place, but a nation where trade, advanced institutions of knowledge, and wealth resided.

Before being exposed to this curriculum, my students were taught that Africa was backward, a continent ripe for exploitation. They saw Africa, not as the birthplace of humanity with rich cultures, but rather a place that Europeans conquered and a continent that continues to have issues to this day.

Challenging misleading notions continues as students learn about the African diaspora. Before being exposed to this curriculum, they believed African Americans had no culture and were only brought to the Americas for harsh work and enslavement because of the color of their skin. I overheard an exchange in my classroom in which one student of color was poking fun at another. A West African student asked another Black student, “Hey, where are you from?” The student responded, “Oh well, I am just Black.” The West African student laughed and said “Oh, I’m so sorry y’all don’t have any culture.” That was an eye-opening exchange. I joined the conversation and asked, “What do you mean by that?” The student explained that they never heard of any African American culture and that Black people did not know where they came from. The conversation continued:

The sad reality is that so many of our students think this way. They believe that Black people are a people without history and this misleading notion really stems from the fact that we have not done a good job as a society to unpack these misconceptions. In some states they still teach that slavery was a benevolent work system where the enslaved learned important skills, sugarcoating the reality of what enslavement was. Why don’t students learn that there was slavery in New York and in other northern localities? Why don’t students learn that Free Blacks and people who escaped from slavery played a crucial role in the abolitionist movement and that African Americans have fought in every war in the United States even before its inception, that 200,000 Black soldiers and sailors fought in the Civil War to end slavery and the right to be full citizens of the nation of their birth?

The hardest part about teaching APâ African American studies course is getting students to relearn the history that was taught to them over and over again since they entered school. Black people were slaves, the Civil War happened, Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation, Reconstruction took place, African Americans got some rights, then skip to the Civil Rights Movement, and that’s Black history. But there is so much more to African American history. Students truly do not understand that African Americans as a people continuously strove to be accepted as valuable contributors to this great nation. Even when they were told to “go back to Africa,” they stayed and fought for equality. It is hard to teach history in a society that try to erase the African American past by making it seem Un-American to shed light on the contributions of Black people to this county.

As a society we have prevented students of color from learning the truth about their heritage and culture and permitted all students to believe in a factionalized past. As a corrective, APâ African American studies is not just a class for students of color. Ideally, African and African American history should be interwoven into World History and United States history classes, not just relegated to an elective.  Black history truly is both World and U.S. history.

It is challenging for many young people to see the correlation between history and the world that we live in today. I started a lesson on sugar being the driver for enslavement in the Americas showing students newspaper headlines discussing chocolate companies using child slave labor and asked students would they still eat chocolate knowing where it came from. Many of the students had to think long and hard about it, but eventually most of them confessed that “yes, they would still eat it.” After a gallery walk showing various documents about the correlation between sugar and enslavement and economics, we came back together to have a discussion. I asked my students how the legacies of sugar plantations and slavery continue to impact economic disparities and race relations today? A student raised her hand and said, “what we see is that enslaved people were working for free and that their enslavers were making loads of money because of their hard work.” I asked, “What does that mean for the Black community today?” Another student responded, “Well this means that many Black communities don’t have the same amount of money as white people because they got rich while we didn’t get anything.”

Another student added, “Well that is the reason why so many Black people have struggled to make generational wealth. It is almost as if we started at a different place” and then another explained “they basically had a 300-year start.” This is the reality that people who criticize the APâ African American studies curriculum are afraid of students uncovering; uncovering how this history continues to play out in America today.

Some people fear the acquisition of knowledge because they know that with knowledge can come change. The APâ African American studies course should not be labeled controversial or Un-American; in fact, it is the exact opposite. African Americans fought to be a part of this country and continue to fight for the country to stand true to its democratic values of all people having the right to life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness. The course does not blame students for the past but rather brings them into the conversation about how we can continue to hold America to its promise by including the history of all of the people who helped to build this great nation. Thank you.

My name is Romelo Green. I am a social studies teacher in the South Country Central School District located on Long Island, Bellport, New York. I teach 11th-grade U.S. History & Government and 12th-grade AP U.S. Government & Politics. In both courses, African American history is a component of the course framework. Being a social studies teacher in the contemporary societal and political landscape presents various challenges. As historians and educators, we are entrusted with the responsibility of addressing topics that can often be sensitive and complex. It is imperative that we present these subjects in a balanced manner, offering to our students various perspectives. Many of these topics are deeply rooted in political discourse, requiring us to navigate these discussions with care.  Moreover, we face the ongoing challenge of countering the misinformation that our students see daily through various social media platforms. We also must remain informed about rapidly evolving current events. We must be equipped to respond to our students’ questions with a neutral stance. Additionally, it is essential for us to remain compliant with state standards, ensuring that we cover all mandated material effectively, and thereby preparing our students for state assessments.

As an African American growing up, I did not hear many lessons pertaining to the deep roots of my own culture. This would include my high school and college experience. Many of the more nuanced topics in (African) American history were only brought to the surface for me once I became a teacher and began to conduct my own research, or through collegiate circles within my own department. This would include the Tulsa Race Massacre, the Haitian Revolution, the true history of policing in America, and the fact that Africans sold other Africans into slavery. I almost never heard of the achievements of African Americans except for the popular few who are always brought to light at certain points in American History (MLK, W.E.B Dubois, Malcolm X, etc…) The drastic omission from our curriculum and our textbooks leaves us with a very limited view of the African American experience.

When we learn about our culture in a public setting, it is usually generalized and only discusses the traumatic experience of African Americans rather than highlighting the achievements of individuals representing our culture. In my school some of the teachers (who are here with us in the audience today) conducted a study using focus groups to try and create a more culturally responsive classroom. Through their research they found that students representing various cultural groups have high interest in learning more about their own culture, however, the students stated that when it is taught in the classroom it is either generalized or just taught wrong. In other words, they know more about their own culture than their teachers.

What I see is that we have two factors at play.

  • Our students hunger for cultural knowledge.
  • Many teachers are unable to conduct such discourse freely and/or accurately.

For example, the legacy of slavery, reconstruction, Jim Crow laws, and the Civil Rights Movement are pivotal components that require a sensitive and comprehensive examination. Inaccurate or incomplete teachings risk perpetuating misunderstandings and stereotypes. What we then need to do is find a balance where teachers are enabled to speak freely in the classroom providing students with facts and hard truths about historical cultural experiences. The students need to be inspired to think critically and be leaders of inquiry-based research. As such, the role of the teacher extends beyond mere instruction to include being a facilitator of dialogue, ensuring a supportive educational environment that encourages critical thinking and open discussion, while carefully steering conversations to be constructive rather than polarizing.

A teacher’s freedom of speech in the classroom is one that is of great complexity, although we all have freedom of speech under the first amendment, our right to freedom of speech in educational settings is not absolute. The question then becomes what must we do as educators? With greater political pressure from the media, parents and the community, how do we still educate and fulfill the students’ drive for knowledge, while maintaining accordance with school or state policy? I think this is where we lean on our students and allow them to be leaders in the classroom. Allow our students to ask the questions and conduct the research, allow them to present information to each other and to hear the perspectives of their peers. As I mentioned our job is now to facilitate and ensure dialogue proceeds in a constructive manner. In order to do this successfully, our students need lessons on misinformation, fact-based research, and evaluating reliable sources. All of which is in alignment with NYS standards. Our teacher preparation programs also need modules on culturally responsive teaching, equipping our prospective teachers with the tools needed to navigate sensitive material respectfully and effectively.

Lastly, professional development for educators is also essential. Teachers need training and resources to confidently navigate the difficult and often sensitive topics inherent in African American history. By investing in their development, schools can create more informed educators who are better equipped to address the diverse needs of their students.

Good morning, my name is Nefe Abamwa. I teach 9th and 10th grade Global History, as well as Pre-AP World at Bellport High School on Long Island. Today’s panel is geared towards the challenges of teaching African American history and how to make the content more relevant. However, I believe it is also a part of a larger conversation on how to make the classroom culturally relevant as well.

As a first-generation Nigerian-American, my culture has greatly shaped me. My parents immigrated from Nigeria to America in the 80’s and early 90’s for better employment opportunities. My father became an accountant for the NYC Comptroller’s Office, while my mother became an RN, ultimately practicing at Pilgrim State Psych Ward. They’ve always emphasized and instilled the value of education in my siblings and I. We were raised to view education as an essential tool for success and advancement. Nigerians often tend to joke that we have three options for careers; to either become a lawyer, doctor, or engineer. In our culture, an advancement in education and an outstanding career is nothing short of an expectation. Growing up in a household and with family where these values were the norm, you could understand the confusion I faced when I began to attend Amityville Public Schools. A district notoriously known for violence, poor academics and administration, and its low-income community.

Throughout my educational career in Amityville, there were many issues I observed that made an impact on me, in regard to the staff and students. I noticed a cultural disconnect between teachers, who were predominantly white, and students, who were predominately black. I noticed that many of my peers did not value school and did not seem to understand, or care, that it could lead to endless opportunity and an escape from their environment. Lastly, the most impactful observation I noticed was that many students and staff were very ignorant and uneducated about African culture. Unfortunately, many of these observations continued to trend throughout my college, postgraduate, professional, and personal life overall. From interactions with colleagues, college professors, church members, peers, and most recently a NYSUT a union member; African culture and history tends to be stigmatized, stereotyped, and homogenized. As I faced these experiences, I would often have conversations with my parents unpacking these interactions and how disappointing it was to have these encounters so often. During these discussions, my parents would share their own experiences in America, where they too have faced racism and ignorance from people of all races, backgrounds, and levels of education.

My cultural values and upbringing, compared to my educational experiences, inspired me at a very young age to go into education. I felt there was a strong need and lack of support for students in low-income communities that may not have proper guidance otherwise; I wanted to show students of color that there are opportunities beyond their environment; and I wanted to make the classroom experience more culturally relevant. I began to instill these changes during my student teaching assignment in a 6th grade classroom at Washington Middle School in Meriden, Connecticut. The demographics there were very similar to Amityville Public Schools, as were the observations I made initially throughout my primary and secondary educational experience. In my class, I began a daily segment at the beginning of the period called “Figure of the Day”. “Figure of the Day” started off as a daily 5-minute black history lesson, during Black History Month, after learning that students knew very little about any historical black figures. These 5-minute sessions would often unintentionally run over time due to the conversations and engagement it brought out of students. Soon enough, students were so intrigued, they would request people they wanted to learn more about. Eventually, that grew into wanting to conduct their own research and present their own projects. And it ended with us expanding “Figure of Day” to cover other races and cultures, well after Black History Month had ended. With each lesson presented, whether it was from me or their peers, I could tell each student found a connection, was inspired, and genuinely excited by what they were being taught because not only was it interesting, but very relatable. Many would go home and discuss what they learned with their parents and share more with their peers the following day.

During my first year at Bellport High School in 2020, I taught my very first Global 10 class. To describe that experience as challenging would be an understatement. 10th graders and 6th graders are quite different, as you can imagine. And this was during covid. Half of my students were in person, half of them online and I’ve never met, and engagement was at an all-time low. That year I decided to conduct a project to reflect on revolutions, a prominent topic in Global 10. Throughout the year, students learn about many revolutions including the French, Haitian, and Latin American revolutions, as well as unifications such as the German and Italian. All of these movements highlight the effects of nationalism, or pride in one’s country or culture. I wanted to show that many of the issues that lead to revolutions still endure today. At the time, the #EndSARS movement was occurring in Nigeria. This was a campaign to stop police brutality led by the Nigerian youth and made international news. I felt learning about this movement was a great way to connect students to issues outside of America as well as bring awareness to some African culture and societies. Students watched a cover of Childish Gambino’s “This is America” called “This is Nigeria”, which highlights political, economic, and social issues Nigerians face. Then, my students produced questions to ask one of my cousins in Nigeria about his experience there. He was able to respond to the questions with a series of videos. Through this and document analysis, students realized many of their own experiences and issues were similar. Many were also surprised to learn that my cousin had an iPhone and could make videos. For these students, this project helped humanize a continent that is often seen as lesser than and irrelevant.

Lastly, during the Imperialism unit, for Global 10, I emphasize the long-lasting effects of White Man’s Burden and eurocentrism, as many students are unaware of how these concepts influence many aspects of our lives. I include how these concepts have impacted the world’s view of anyone that is not a WASP. This is done through document analysis, where students study different events, letters, and political cartoons. I teach them to focus on tone, POV, and how images are portrayed. When conducting these lessons, it’s easier to find the British view of imperialism versus Africans. For African perspectives I use sources such as Jomo Kenyatta’s “Gentleman of the Jungle”, documentaries, primary documents, and my own parents and grandparents’ experiences of living in Nigeria and having government positions while under British occupation. We discussed how Europeans had many negative impacts, disregard and ignorance towards natives because they had different lifestyles and only cared for profit. We also study how ignorance and stereotypes play out in modern society, pop culture, and their own personal lives today. These activities often lead to discussions about common stereotypes and misconceptions about different races, cultures, and religions. When beginning these activities, students are often embarrassed and resistant to participate at first; but it opens up important dialogue about why it is dangerous to think that way. I find that not only are most students genuinely intrigued by history behind many of these misconceptions and stereotypes, but they often notice that these lasting impacts have affected them as well. What is most rewarding is when they are able to identify and call out these issues in their own lives and well after the lesson has been taught.

As a social studies teacher that emphasizes cultural relevancy and providing different cultural perspectives, I fear retaliation, being silenced, or accused of pushing certain agendas. I believe teachers must maintain a certain level of academic freedom and it is an absolute necessity for students to learn how to have hard and constructive conversations without having to agree with one another, especially in today’s climate. Unfortunately, I never experienced a teacher that brought these things to my attention but, I was fortunate enough to have a support system and grow up in an environment where I had exposure, which then fostered my own curiosity. I would like to pay that forward and not only be a support and role model for students, but to help them make the connections and realize the importance of education.

“Is Black resistance the highest form of Black excellence?” During Black history month the past few years this has been the focusing question in the Black history class I teach at Brooklyn Technical High School. By February we have been together since September, and the range of opinion on this question is wide. The room crackles with intellectual energy.  Scholarship and emotion combine to produce forceful arguments. Radical and conservative traditions contend. Outside the classroom we are saturated by a media environment where images of Black wealth are iconic, think Beyonce and Jay-Z. From time to time these Black images compete for our attention with images flowing out of what I’ll call a Black radical or activist tradition – think ‘End Racism’ appearing in NFL end zones or black screens on social media in the wake of the killing of George Floyd.

Inside our K-12 school buildings Black achievement is generally embodied in homage to great Black individuals, our unspoken mission is to lift our students out of the working class into the middle class or to keep them firmly planted in the American middle class. We may even provide a platform for a handful to become truly rich, to achieve ‘generational wealth.’. This unspoken mission is shared by parents, and if we are being honest, we hold it as a mission for our own children as well.

Our schooling involves an implicit renunciation of working-class life; under capitalism, workers are not winners. Yet workers are what most of our students will be. Black history in the United States is, by and large, the history of a working people. I have my students read passages from Barbara Fields’s seminal essay “Race, Slavery and Ideology in the United States.” Fields is careful to remind us that plantations in the American South existed to produce cotton first, not white supremacy. In small groups my students are taken aback by a passage that describes the numerous recollections of planters, overseers and enslaved persons of circumstances where the ‘smooth running’ of the plantation required the planter taking the word of the enslaved over that of the overseer, or of overseers being dismissed because of their management practices.

The power of economic development and class goals continued after the end of slavery. During a century of Jim Crow, a Black middle class and Black elite clawed their way up out of economic precarity, even as state-sponsored and vigilante racist terror haunted them. In the post-Civil Rights Movement era, a Black middle class was consolidated.  In April of 1968 elite institutions threw open their doors to the Black in a cynical but consistent response to the mass uprisings after the shooting of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. in April of 1968.

Should curriculum focus on the history of a Black elite? The tenets of ‘social history’ seek to ground historical investigation in the lived reality of the masses of the people, to get us away from understanding history as the work of ‘great men.’ When the masses are white, the rules of American racism have meant that we are studying a group that, over time, has experienced great chances for uplift, for rising in social status. Social history of the white working-class rests on a certain implicit substrate of hope. The problem in Black history is that for the whole era of slavery and much of the period after that ‘hopeful narrative’ is by definition closed.

This continent would not house a world power if it were not for the stolen  labor and amassed capital of the slavery era. Silence on slavery and its afterlife suits a ruling class that would have us forget this one fact. This is why the hysteria over Critical Race Theory. Forget slavery. Forget Jim Crow. Forget George Floyd. The U.S. ruling class knows what they did to get where they are, what they do to stay there, and they don’t want the next generation being reminded of it.

In the face of these stark facts of history and given the political headwinds, teaching of Jim Crow by retreating into the salve of figures of Black Excellence such as Madam CJ Walker feels safer not just in the face of conservative school boards, but as a way to boost the morale of a room where the course material can otherwise feel like a catalogue of Black suffering. Of course, by neglecting struggle, we don’t know what to do with Nat Turner, let alone John Brown, or Paul Robeson, or Claudia Jones, or W.E.B. DuBois.

That’s why historians and teachers matter so much. We need historians and teachers who can foreground the majesty of the Black struggle for liberation, for justice. We need historians and teachers who invite us to have pride in the broad masses of our ancestors, not just the elites. We grasp intuitively, perhaps, that it was the action of these broad masses that formed the motive force behind every great liberation movement of our history.  Black history as hero worship of great leaders disempowers every student who can’t see themselves becoming the next Martin Luther King. This problem is one that King grappled with himself on the day he died, there in Memphis, binding himself more closely to the cause of the sanitation workers of that city. He was building a Poor People’s Movement with a strong anti-imperialist element. The images of those Black workers with signs reading “I Am a Man” are iconic but they are iconic as protesters, not just as workers.

Eugene Genovese (Roll, Jordan Roll, Book Three, Part Two) helps my students understand slavery as a world where far more choice was exercised by the enslaved than we are given to imagine. I teach the returning veterans from World War I and World War II whose refusal to accept the business as usual of Jim Crow. Their energy gave birth to a Harlem Renaissance and a Civil Rights Movement. To see Black workers gathered in their masses, politicized, in motion against racism as the most powerful force in history, to see honor and glory in joining such a movement, this is an alternative view of Black Excellence and approach to curriculum. Teaching the struggles of ordinary Black people for dignity and equality is the curriculum focus we need to empower our students to survive and defeat the growing threats of fascism and war and to avert climate disaster. 


 

 

The Exploitation of Enslaved Women During The 18th Century Colonial America

Logan Stovall

Logan Stovall is an eighth grade student at Montclair Kimberley Academy in Montclair, NJ

The 18th century represents a dark period in American history when the institution of slavery thrived, and the exploitation of enslaved Black women flourished. The cruel realities endured by Black women during this time were not only a consequence of their enslavement but were magnified by both their race and gender, perpetuating a cycle of inequality and suffering. Beyond the physical captivity, these women endured a complex oppression that not only involved grueling labor but also made them victims of sexual violence. The harsh reality of this oppression becomes evident when one reflects on how the clothing worn by enslaved Black women served as a physical manifestation of their fragile existence. The clothes they wore were not just rags or pieces of fabric used to cover their bodies; they represented a system that dehumanized and abused them.  During the 18th century, an enslaved Black woman’s gender and race primarily affected the way she lived and thrived in an illiberal society. Understanding the exploitation of enslaved Black women during the American colonial era requires a closer look into the sweat of their daily labor, the sexual abuse they endured, and the clothing they wore that bound them to such a harsh life.

However, before any analysis regarding the exploitation of enslaved Black women is made, one must first consider that the racial stereotypes and discriminatory practices against enslaved Black women during the colonial era were the underlying causes of their mistreatment. The widely accepted racist ideas of Antebellum white slaveholders led them to think of their enslaved people as both biologically and culturally inferior. Due to their understanding of the social hierarchy at this time, slaveholders often whipped and physically mistreated enslaved women under their supervision.[i] In addition to the racist beliefs they held, slaveholders also created various stereotypes about enslaved Black women. One such popular stereotype was the “Mammy” caricature. The “mammy caricature” depicted enslaved Black women as enjoying their servitude, being physically unattractive, and only fit to be domestic workers.[ii]

In contrast to the “mammy caricature”, slave owners also created a more promiscuous stereotype of enslaved Black women: the “Jezebel” figure. The Jezebel caricature was used during slavery to justify a slaveholder’s objectification and sexual exploitation of enslaved Black women.[iii] The Mammy and Jezebel caricatures, along with various other derogatory stereotypes that plagued enslaved Black women, heavily influenced how the rest of the White population during the Antebellum period perceived and treated Black women. Sadly, these caricatures endured for decades even after colonial times.

With racial stereotyping forming the underlying cause of discrimination against Black women, a significant amount of White slave masters often subjected Black women to harsh labor conditions. Enslaved women were often forced to work in the fields from sunrise to sunset where they endured physical and emotional abuse. On larger farms and plantations, for example, women were forced to perform tasks like hoeing and ditching entire fields. These were the most exhausting and uninteresting forms of fieldwork.[iv] Slaveholders also held enslaved women accountable for cleaning and tidying communal areas like stables and expected them to spread manure as a fertilizer.[v] Moreover, slave owners frequently questioned how much time off enslaved women needed to adequately take care of their families and children. When not offered any downtime by their slaveholders, enslaved women had to bring their children with them to the fields and strap them to their backs as they worked tirelessly. [vi]

Black women’s exploitation extended beyond the fields. In many instances, the labor performed by enslaved women was prolonged and complicated. For example, many enslaved women began to work for slaveholders at a very young age. There was little free time for enslaved women to rest, given that most women worked for their master five to six days a week. This included keeping the owner’s homes clean, cooking food, and washing their clothes.[vii] In short, enslaved women were expected to work tirelessly, both in the fields and in the house. The slave masters did not care about  the well-being of their enslaved women and exploited them for their free labor.  For Black women, slavery in the southern colonies meant long days performing menial, exhausting tasks, sometimes in the hot, baking sun.  After working prolonged, hard days for the slaveholders, these women had to care for their own families, which was often a physical and mental challenge due to the absence of time to rest. When enslaved women did not meet the expectations for their work by their enslaver, they would oftentimes be taken advantage of sexually or physically assaulted as a form of punishment. Unfortunately, this possibility became a reality for many enslaved Black women.

Indeed, as the slave population in America grew larger through the importation of slaves, enslaved Black women primarily as reproducers of a valuable labor force rather than merely a part of the labor force.  The sexual exploitation of Black women extended from sexual gratification of their White slaveholders to include reproducing offspring that would expand their workforce. Though slave owners valued enslaved women as laborers, they were also well aware that female slaves could be used to successfully reproduce new labor (more children who would grow up to be slaves) by continuing their role as full-time mothers.[viii] This presented slaveholders with a dilemma because West African women usually had some prior agricultural experience (like growing tobacco and rice) which could be used to the slaveholders’ benefit.[ix]

In 1756, Reverend Peter Fontaine of Charles City County, Virginia, stated that Black females were “far more prolific than…white women.” This form of racial stereotyping made enslaved women extremely vulnerable to physical assault.[x] Many white enslavers raped Black women for sexual pleasure, as well as for their ability to produce children who would become slaves and ultimately increase their wealth. Instead of perpetuating the stereotype that all enslaved Black women were unattractive and were only fit to be domestic workers, they now were feeding into the stereotype that Black women were promiscuous and desired for the reproduction of enslaved children who could be used or sold. This form of physical exploitation was pervasive throughout the Antebellum South.

In addition to labor and sexual exploitation, clothing was another form of exploitation that enslaved Black women were forced to endure. While these women often knitted or otherwise made beautiful garments for White women and their children, the fabrics that enslaved Black women wore themselves offered minimal protection from the weather and had to be inexpensive and easy to make.[xi] Their clothing was so cheap in quality that it often disassembled or tore within weeks. As a result, enslaved women often borrowed clothing from one another or even stole clothing from the slave master’s house. They did this to give themselves or their families warm, sustainable garments, and sometimes, to blend into the free population. Oppressors often made enslaved women wear poor, rugged clothing to symbolize a Black woman’s low status and to cultivate racial stereotypes depicting Black women as inferior. Indeed, one reason why enslaved women wanted to steal White people’s clothes was because they wanted to appear as free Black people with increased status.[xii]

Despite being subjected to clothing exploitation, many enslaved women nevertheless tried to continue to be connected to their former culture by wearing West African garments. Enslaved women working in slaveholders’ homes were expected to cover their heads with lightweight white caps, which other members of the household also wore. However, to continue the West African tradition, many enslaved women also chose to wear brightly colored head wraps that surrounded their heads and were secured with knots and tucking’s.[xiii] They also sometimes wore cowrie shells in their hair; which were very expensive and far more valuable than money. These cowrie shells also appeared in spirit bundles as parts of clothing and jewelry, implying their use as amulets.

Black women not only wore these West African garments to remain connected with their former cultures, but they also wore the garments as a form of resistance against enslavement.[xiv] Enslaved Black women despised their status as slaves but were able to feel proud about and connect to their former West African heritage when they wore their cultural headdresses. The significance of these garments likely gave Black women a feeling of strength and empowerment as they were emotionally frightened by the abuse they faced from their enslavers.

During the 18th century, the exploitation of enslaved Black women through their gender and race greatly influenced the way they survived and flourished in a prejudicial society. Enslaved women were exploited in numerous ways and were expected to address the needs of others to the detriment of caring for themselves and their families. They worked extremely hard, both in the house and in the field, and did whatever they were commanded to do withstanding both physical and emotional abuse. They were often raped through their shabby clothing and physically assaulted by their master’s for punishment, as a means to increase their profit in human labor. But still, an enslaved Black woman was able to overcome these acts of exploitation non-violently and create her own peace by wearing and displaying garments that were distinct to her West African culture. Given all that these enslaved women endured, we should respect and admire their ability to overcome such incredible hardships.

Smithsonian, and National Museum of African American History and Culture. “Cowrie Shells and Trade Power.” National Museum of African American History and Culture. Accessed November 15, 2023. https://nmaahc.si.edu/cowrie-shells-and-trade-power#:~:text=Europeans%20in%20the%2016th%20century,at%20their%20use%20as%20amulets .


[i] LDHI, “Hidden Voices: Enslaved Women in the Lowcountry and U.S. South,” LDHI, accessed November 27, 2023, https://ldhi.library.cofc.edu/exhibits/show/hidden-voices/enslaved-womens-work.

[ii] LDHI, “Hidden Voices,” LDHI.

[iii] LDHI, “Hidden Voices,” LDHI.

[iv] Jennifer Hallam, “The Slave Experience: Men, Women & Gender,” Slavery and the Making of America, accessed November 27, 2023, https://www.thirteen.org/wnet/slavery/experience/gender/history.html.

[v] Emily West, Enslaved Women in America: From Colonial Times to Emancipation (Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 2017), 29

[vi] West, Enslaved Women, 28.

[vii] LDHI, “Hidden Voices,” LDHI.

[viii] West, Enslaved Women, 28.

[ix] West, Enslaved Women, 29

[x] West, Enslaved Women, 31.

[xi] Daina Ramey Berry and Deleso A. Alford, eds., Enslaved Women in America: An Encyclopedia enhanced credo edition ed. (Santa Barbara, CA: Greenwood, 2012), 34 and 35.

[xii] Katherine Gruber, ed., “Clothing and Adornment of Enslaved People in Virginia,” Encyclopedia Virginia, last modified December 7, 2020, accessed November 5, 2023, https://encyclopediavirginia.org/entries/slave-clothing-and-adornment-in-virginia/.

[xiii] Gruber, “Clothing and Adornment,” Encyclopedia Virginia.

[xiv] Smithsonian and National Museum of African American History and Culture, “Cowrie Shells and Trade Power,” National Museum of African American History and Culture, accessed November 15, 2023, https://nmaahc.si.edu/cowrie-shells-and-trade-power#:~:text=Europeans%20in%20the%2016th%20century,at%20their%20use%20as%20amulets.


Berry, Daina Ramey, and Deleso A. Alford, eds. Enslaved Women in America: An Encyclopedia. Enhanced Credo edition ed. Santa Barbara, CA: Greenwood, 2012.

Gruber , Katherine, ed. “Clothing and Adornment of Enslaved People in Virginia.” Encyclopedia Virginia. Last modified December 7, 2020. Accessed November 5, 2023. https://encyclopediavirginia.org/entries/slave-clothing-and-adornment-in-virginia/.

Hallam, Jennifer. “The Slave Experience: Men, Women & Gender.” Slavery and the Making of America. Accessed November 27, 2023. https://www.thirteen.org/wnet/slavery/experience/gender/history.html.

LDHI. “Hidden Voices: Enslaved Women in the Lowcountry and U.S. South.” LDHI. Accessed November 27, 2023. https://ldhi.library.cofc.edu/exhibits/show/hidden-voices/enslaved-womens-work.

West, Emily. Enslaved Women in America: From Colonial Times to Emancipation. Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 2017.

Sally Hemings’ Legacy of Freedom and Motherhood

Ms. Aquino is an eighth grade student at Montclair Kimberley Academy in Montclair, NJ

Sally Hemings led an extraordinarily complex life, yet her story inspires thousands of women, myself included. Despite the intricacies, she fought against the notion of becoming just another enslaved individual in her family’s generational cycle. Sally sought to change the trajectory of her children’s lives, offering them opportunities beyond enslavement. Instead of securing her own freedom, she made a selfless choice to promise freedom to her future children—a decision that stands out as a remarkable act of heroism. Sally Hemings’s life, sacrifices, and ability to persuade Thomas Jefferson into making her a  promise was an act of heroism towards her children. Her story is a testament to the profound strength of a mother’s love and the power of quiet rebellion against an oppressive system.

Born into slavery, Sally began her journey as one of Polly’s , Thomas Jefferson’s daughter, maid, and caretaker. Over time, she developed a close relationship with Polly, potentially even her aunt as well.[1] During their time in Paris, where Sally accompanied Polly in her studies, Thomas Jefferson expressed reservations about Sally’s  ability to care for his daughter because she was so young, fourteen at the time. However, although she was well-trained in caring for people, Thomas Jefferson expressed that she was “wholly incapable of looking after” his daughter and could not do it “without some superior to direct her.”[2]  Despite Jefferson’s doubts about her abilities, Sally gracefully navigated the unfamiliar Parisian landscape and spent twenty-six months in Paris, also reuniting with her brother James. She contracted smallpox but received proper care and was compensated for her work. Sally also learned French during her stay, though her literacy in both languages remains uncertain.[3]

In Paris, at the age of fourteen, Sally’s  involvement in a sexual relationship with Thomas Jefferson, whose wife died in 1782, resulted in her pregnancy, which shifted her trajectory dramatically. While accompanying Thomas Jefferson’s daughter, Polly, to Paris, Hemings was caught in a complex web of power dynamics and his unspoken desires. Yet, a fateful encounter with Jefferson forever altered her life. Madison Hemings, Sally Hemings’s son, stated that his mother became Mr. Jefferson’s concubine in France. Though in France, slavery was not legal, so Sally was considered a free person. Torn between the possibility of freedom in Paris and the promise of a better future for her children, Sally made a heart-wrenching choice. She negotiated an extraordinary deal: freedom for her future children at 21, sacrificing her own chance at escape. In the face of unimaginable hardship, this selflessness began her quiet rebellion. She did not try to negotiate for freedom for herself.[4] Additionally, Thomas Jefferson wrote about Sally as they continued their “relationship” after returning to Monticello. He wrote, “It is well known that the man whom it delighted the people to honor, keeps, and for many years past has kept, as his concubine, her name is Sally.”[5] Jefferson clearly stated that Sally was his concubine, his mistress. In his eyes, Sally was just another woman.

After returning to Monticello with Jefferson and his daughters in 1789, she became a household servant and lady’s maid.[6] In addition, Madison Hemings stated, “It was her duty, all her life which I can remember, up to the time of father’s death, to take care of his chamber and wardrobe, look after us children and do such light work as sewing.” As well as being a maid, Sally’s job was cleaning Jefferson’s closet and sewing. Also, upon returning to Monticello, Sally’s relationship with Jefferson, though shrouded in secrecy, was an undeniable reality. Sally Hemings’s relationship with Thomas Jefferson was well-known throughout Monticello. Some of Jefferson’s friends and even political colleagues knew about them. However, this new sexual relationship did not come as a surprise to people. It was, unfortunately, widespread for white men to have sexual activity with enslaved women, let alone enslavers with enslaved women. However, society could ignore Thomas Jefferson and Sally Hemings if he kept them discreet, so he never acknowledged the rumors, and they continued their “relationship.”[7] Their relationship lasted until Jefferson died on July 4, 1826.

She  bore him six children, each carrying the weight of their father’s legacy and the burden of slavery. Although, only four survived to adulthood, Harried, Beverly, Madison and Eston. Despite her duties as a servant and Jefferson’s “concubine,” Sally nurtured her children with unwavering love and a fierce determination to see them free. Madison Hemings said, “She gave birth to four others, and Jefferson was the father of all. They were Beverly, Harriet, Madison (myself), and Eston – three sons and one daughter.”[8] The oldest, Beverly Hemings, worked as a carpenter for the duration of his enslaving. He was also into music, more specifically, the violin.[9] Harriet Hemings was born a few years after Beverly in 1801. She grew up enslaved, spinning wood. After Harriet, Madison is the child that had the most to say about his mother’s life and what he thinks about their relationship. Lastly, there is Eston Hemings, the youngest son out of them all. He obtained knowledge in woodworking and was granted freedom in 1829. After Jefferson’s death, Martha, his daughter, allowed Sally to leave the plantation to live with her younger sons, Madison and Eston, in Charlottesville, Virginia. Madison and Eston gladly took their mother in with open arms and loving hearts. They initially passed as white for the U.S. Census, but later Sally identified as “free mulatto.” Sally lived freely with her sons until she died in 1835.[10] 

             Throughout her life, Sally Hemings made decisions that transformed her children’s lives and impacted women at large. Her selfless act in Paris, negotiating freedom for her unborn children, inspires women and their own children. In the course of her life, just like many other enslaved women, Sally Hemings’s children were fathered by her owner. In  the context of the era where enslaved women lacked legal rights,[11] Sally’s story reflects the harsh reality of exploitation. The dynamic between her and Jefferson can vary, though, taking into consideration age and consent. Sally was fourteen, and  Jefferson was about forty years old.[12] Additionally, enslaved women often were raped and sexually harassed without being able to speak up or say no. Despite  these challenges, she rose above and stands as a stark motivation for women across the globe.  

            Sally Hemings’s story is a personal triumph and a beacon of hope for all who fight against injustice. Pulitzer Prize-winning historian Annette Gordon-Reed also said, “Though enslaved, Sally Hemings helped shape her life and the lives of her children, who got an almost 50-year head start on emancipation, escaping the system that had engulfed their ancestors and millions of others. Whatever we may feel about it today, this was important to her.” The measures Sally took to ensure emancipation for her children were significant and display the unconditional love she had for them. For a mother to surrender her own freedom, her only chance to escape, for her children was selfless. Her quiet defiance, her unwavering love for her children, and her ability to negotiate freedom within the confines of slavery inspire generations of women and mothers. Her life, sacrifices, and ability to persuade Thomas Jefferson into making her a promise was an act of heroism towards her kids. While inspiring many women worldwide, the most significant impact was on her children. Ones who exclaimed the great things she did for them. On the other hand, her children were not the only ones who spoke highly of her.  Her story carries a historical significance and profound lessons about the human spirit’s capacity for resilience and love. A woman who defied the odds and shaped the destiny of her children, leaving behind a legacy that continues to resonate  with many women and children today.

Hemings, Madison. “Sally Hemings” [Sally Hemings]. https://monticello.org. Accessed November 9, 2023. https://www.monticello.org/sallyhemings/.

“The Memoirs of Madison Hemings” [The Memoirs of Madison Hemings]. https://www.pbs.org. Accessed December 17, 2023. https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/shows/jefferson/cron/1873march.html.

Adams, William Howard. The Paris Years of Thomas Jefferson.

Gordon-Reed, Annette. The Hemingses of Monticello.

“Life Story: Sally Hemings” [Life Story: Sally Hemings]. https://nyhistory.org. Accessed December 14, 2023. https://wams.nyhistory.org/building-a-new-nation/american-woman/sally-hemings/#:~:text=Sally%20lived%20in%20Paris%20long,together%20when%20they%20reached%20adulthood .

Thorson, David. “Beverly Hemings” [Beverly Hemings]. https://www.monticello.org/. Accessed December 17, 2023. https://www.monticello.org/research-education/thomas-jefferson-encyclopedia/beverly-hemings-2/.

The University of Virginia. “The Hemings Family” [The Hemings Family]. https://monticello.org. Accessed November 6, 2023. https://www.monticello.org/slavery/paradox-of-liberty/enslaved-families-of-monticello/the-hemings-family/ .


[1] William Howard Adams, The Paris Years of Thomas Jefferson, Page 220

[2] William Howard Adams, The Paris Years of Thomas Jefferson, Page 220

[3] Madison Hemings, “Sally Hemings” [Sally Hemings], Monticello.org, accessed November 9, 2023, https://www.monticello.org/sallyhemings/.

[4] Hemings, “Sally Hemings,” Monticello.org.

[5] Hemings, “Sally Hemings,” Monticello.org.

[6] Hemings, “Sally Hemings,” Monticello.org.

[7] “Life Story: Sally Hemings” [Life Story: Sally Hemings], nyhistory.org, accessed December 14, 2023, https://wams.nyhistory.org/building-a-new-nation/american-woman/sally-hemings/#:~:text=Sally%20lived%20in%20Paris%20long,together%20when%20they%20reached%20adulthood.

[8] Hemings, “Sally Hemings,” https://monticello.org.

[9] David Thorson, “Beverly Hemings” [Beverly Hemings], https://www.monticello.org/, accessed December 17, 2023, https://www.monticello.org/research-education/thomas-jefferson-encyclopedia/beverly-hemings-2/.

[10] Life Story,” https://nyhistory.org

[11] Hemings, “Sally Hemings,” https://monticello.org.

[12] Hemings, “Sally Hemings,” https://monticello.org.


The Eight: The Lemmon Slave Case and the Fight for Freedom

The Eight tells the story of Lemmon v. New York—or, as it’s more popularly known, the Lemmon Slave Case. All but forgotten today, it was one of the most momentous civil rights cases in American history. There had been cases in which the enslaved had won their freedom after having resided in free states, but the Lemmon case was unique, posing the question of whether an enslaved person can win freedom by merely setting foot on New York soil—when brought there in the keep of an “owner.” The case concerned the fates of eight enslaved people from Virginia, brought through New York in 1852 by their owners, Juliet and Jonathan Lemmon. The Eight were in court seeking, legally, to become people—to change their status under law from objects into human beings. The Eight encountered Louis Napoleon, the son of a slave, an abolitionist activist, and a “conductor” of the Underground Railroad, who took enormous risks to help others. He was part of an anti-slavery movement in which African Americans played an integral role in the fight for freedom. The case was part of the broader judicial landscape at the time: If a law was morally repugnant but enshrined in the Constitution, what was the duty of the judge? Should there be, as some people advocated, a “higher law” that transcends the written law? These questions were at the heart of the Lemmon case. They were difficult and important ones in the 1850s—and, more than a century and a half later, we must still grapple with them today.