It’s #BlackHistoryMonth and I’ve been slacking on content. But today I want to share something special!
My family recently made a discovery: my mom’s mother, Mabel Ruth Collick, descends from one of the “20-odd Negroes” brought to Jamestown in #1619 the first Africans in America.
I’ve tweeted a lot about the Dungee/Dungeys, my mom’s paternal side which is the Pamunkey/Mattaponi line that I’ve grown up knowing. But unfortunately, African American family history is notorious difficult to research. I’ve been working on mine for many years.
Most of my Black lineage was FPOC which helps cause there are records. Abt a year ago, I was contacted thru #ancestry by a DNA cousin. She enlisted the help of a certified genealogist. Here’s what we found.
My 9th great grandmother’s name was Margaret Cornish.
She was born in Angola abt 1607 and arrived in Jamestown on the White Lion in 1619. They were captured earlier that year when an army of Portuguese and African allies seeking control of the silver mines, invaded the kingdom of Ndongo on the Kwanza River, now Angola.
Ndongo was a cosmopolitan Kingdom of the sophisticated Iron Age — made up of farmers, artisans, miners, silver and goldsmiths, blacksmiths, and cattle-herders.
You may wonder about the name Margaret Cornish, cause I def did. For one, neither her owner, nor her male partners had the name Cornish. So that remains a mystery for now. As for Margaret, I believe it was her birth name (or one of them), but the Portuguese version - Margarida.
Many don’t realize that by and large, the Angolans had embraced Catholicism generations before the transatlantic slave trade began in earnest. Several of their Kingdoms had a thriving trade relationship with Portugal since the late 1400s (silver, gold, iron, cloth, etc).
So my Margaret was probably Catholic, she most likely spoke Portuguese, Kimbundu, and any/all of 5 other Bantu languages in her region as well as some Dutch and eventually English. I bet she was in Jamestown like “these people are ignorant af”.
The first Africans in Jamestown were not held in life-long enslavement, but were apparently under a similar situation to the white indentured servants. Except for the *very important* fact that they were stolen and forced to be there.
Margaret’s enslavement (indenture?) was to Lt. Robert Sheppard who owned the Chippoke Plantation. Margaret married one of the other 20-and odd from her ship, John Graweere (Gowen), and they had a son named Michael.
Then there was a huge scandal…
*cue the dramatic music*
In 1638, an English indentured servant named Robert Sweet came to work for Lt. Shepherd. He and Margaret had an affair resulting in a baby named Jane. This baby came out…very white, which was very suspicious.
Margaret was convicted of adultery. She was publicly whipped.
Robert was also convicted of fornication. His punishment? He had to wear a white tunic to church and be shamed in front of the whole congregation. Must be nice. 🙄
Now I should mention that her husband John was owned by someone else and lived elsewhere.
All the while this was happening, John had attained his freedom and was trying to make enough money to purchase Margaret and his son. But after all that drama, he was like “Nah, man.”
John had the money to purchase his son, but it was unclear who owned him. He filed a lawsuit and took his case to court March 31, 1641. At court, he said wanted to raise his child to be a good Christian and he wanted him to be educated. (And get him out that v unChristian drama)
And then, get this, Lt Sheppard - Margaret’s owner - stood with her ex John Gowen in court and said that he, as the child’s godfather (which he apparently was???) would be guardian along with John.
John won his case and their boy Michael was never a servant or a slave.
Sweet Baby Jane (no pun intended), being born in sin and whatnot, was not so lucky. Records show that she was adopted by Manuel Driggers (Emmanual Rodriguez, another of the 20-and odd) who was free by this time. He paid for her indenture to be handed over to another household.
For a long time I thought Manuel Driggers was my ancestor bc her name in records was Jane Driggers. Until we found the note abt the adoption. I’ve thought a lot abt this and I believe he was saving the child from being taken by the church (as they did to bastards) and sold away.
Margaret and Robert Sweet went on to be married and have more children. She was freed and had her own farm in Hog Island, Surry County, Virginia. She died at around 70 years old.
Her daughter Jane, after her own scandals (contraception was not a thing back then guys), went on to marry William Harmon, an African who had been trafficked to Virginia sometime before 1648. William and Jane are my 8x great grandparents.
They moved to Maryland where Harmons married Collicks many times over. The Collicks were FPOC in MD, descended from Sam Collick, a Native man allotted land in Askibinakansen Indian Town when the reservation was disbanded. The area became a FPOC settlement. hdl.handle.net/11603/11895
Most of the Harmons left MD with the Nanticoke Tribe and migrated to Delaware in mid-1800s. My Collicks/Harmons stayed in MD and fought for the Union in the Civil War.
(You’ll notice under “complexion” it says Griffe which meant Black/Native, as in griffin half eagle/lion 🙄)
It is incredible to me that my grandparents found each other. Him from the Indigenous people of Virginia, the Powhatan Confederacy, and her a descendent of the first Black and white people to be there. 400 years ago, they were all sorting through the mess that would be America.
Damn. I really am America.
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In a small, touristy town in NW Australia, white taxi driver takes moment to explain to me their “Indigenous problem” which I will spare you, but was basically “they are drunks”. I say nothing.
Him: “So have you had any run-ins with Indigenous people?”
😂 Sir! I am the run-in.
Seriously it’s exhausting. I just want to get to my AirBnB without racism, please.
I just don’t understand how you see me and then see them and then talk to me like that. I walk down the street and everyone is shouting “Hey sista!” at me. At the end of the day I know if shit goes down for them my Black ass is going down too. Get a grip.
Just overheard a 9 yro boy talking to his 4/5 yro brother. The little one says pink is a girl color.
Big bro: Pink isn’t a girl color. Colors are colors. I like pink highlighters, that doesn’t make me a girl. And I know a boy named Lucas who likes purple. Colors aren’t a gender
The little brother listened intently and then said: Well I like green because it’s the color of leaves.
Big bro: ok but that doesn’t mean green is a boy color just because you like it.
Little bro: *continues talking about leaves*
😂 I mean I hope he got the lesson.
To people saying it didn’t happen, I don’t know what to say to you. It sounded to me like a lesson he had from an adult and he was giving it to his brother with the addition of personal points abt himself and his friend Lucas. It was not at all complex for a kid that age.
Y’all don’t realize we literally stopped everything to help them because we were concerned.
This meme is from indigenousshitposting on IG and you really should be following them.
Also, please remember I had a job for almost two years where I dressed in period clothing and interpreted the life of an enslaved woman at George Washington’s house museum. After being submersed in the intricacies of that history, this man’s face is pretty damn horrifying.
Sometimes I think abt my white friends whose parents helped them w their rent/to buy their first apartment/house. Some even gave them money for stocks as teens. And this was middle class.
Meanwhile EVERY Black/Indigenous young adult I know is helped their siblings/parents.
And I come from a family where my grandparents went to college and were professionals. But still, every personal setback, or economic recession hits us harder. And we don’t make money for ourselves, we use it communally. So the bootstrap thing ain’t gonna work.
I also think abt how I had to watch that all around me and just accept it. While I was struggling so horribly. And so many times I thought about asking for help, but just didn’t.
Meanwhile now that I have a modicum of stability and if anyone even seems like they need it I give.
I took a class on tarot once out of curiosity, taught by a little old white lady in Brooklyn. She had a few basic rules - one was absolutely NEVER use a deck that only has white people illustrated bc 1. that’s not reality and 2. no spiritual good comes from white supremacy.
I went to an interfaith event on race reparations and reconciliation at an Episcopal church. It had been a historically Caribbean church in Bk, now majority white. I got to the mic and said “Look around you. Every panel of stained glass depicts Biblical scenes with white people.”
It’s incredible to me how white supremacy informs all spiritual life in this country. From a Christian church to the New Age movement that positions itself in opposition to it. Crystals mined by exploited non-white labor, stolen sage, misused yoga, white tarot decks.
It’s time we realized that people who believe that over 70% of human beings will be sent to hell to be tortured for all eternity by their loving Creator, may not be capable of making decisions for the public good.
They fundamentally believe that anyone who isn’t like them is trash, redeemable trash sure, but only if they become like them. Not just in religious belief (many evangelicals think most Christians aren’t “actual Christians”) but in way of life: cis, white, straight, patriarchal.
You can’t appeal to them on any level other than that. And they don’t accept the authority, knowledge, or insight of any person who is outside of their heaven-bound club. Why would they? God is not in them, so how could anything that comes from them be worth anything?