I've walked down a ramp leading to the turquoise water of the ocean in Mozambique. Enslaved people descended the steep path in chains to board ships, taking them away from all they loved. The ramp is far larger than you may picture; the slave trade was a high-volume business.
The vastness and international nature of the trade are barriers to understanding it on a human level, to finding connection and healing.
I've better understood slavery's link to my life by following the story of one slave ship, a journey that recently came full circle for me.
From this ramp, 512 enslaved people were forced onto a Portuguese slaver, the São José Paquete D’Africa, destined to be sold in Brazil. In December 1794, storms destroyed the ship off the Cape of Good Hope. Many perished. Survivors were sold in Cape Town.
Their story is not forgotten.
I met a young woman of the Makhuwa people. One of her ancestors was taken on the São José. I began to cry when she explained that those in her community think of him daily and that he is a permanent presence in her life.
In 2015, work, including that of the @NMAAHC-hosted Slave Wrecks Project network, confirmed the São José had been found. The Project uses maritime archaeology and research to help us better understand the transatlantic slave trade, which continues to shape our world today.
Locating the wreck opened the door to research, reckoning, and reflection. A tribal elder of the Makhuwa gave me this basket filled with soil. He sought my help to sprinkle it over the São José so that his "people can sleep in their homeland for the first time since 1794."
Three divers braved tumultuous weather to reach the site with the soil. As the soil entered the sea, sunshine broke through. This is no exaggeration. It was as if the ancestors smiled and the weather was dramatically altered. Never mess with the ancestors, I thought to myself.
My journey with the São José continued last month when I had the opportunity to join fellow museum professionals and historians in Lisbon. We discussed how Portugal's history, like that of America's, was shaped by slavery—and yet this history is unacknowledged in most spaces.
While there, I visited the former estate of the São José's owner, Joao Antonio Pereira. The ship would have been docked not far from his palatial home. His warehouses, which once housed goods he traded in such as salt and tobacco, remain. Passages overhead link them together.
Though no signage connects the landmark to the history of slavery, exploring the site made visible to me the business of slavery, the social standing of this well-networked businessman, and the ways in which slavery's marks are still felt on our landscape today.
Many in Portugal are working to better acknowledge the country's connections to slavery at museums, memorials, and other sites. To bolster those efforts and share lessons from our work at the Smithsonian in the spirit of partnership was a great step forward.
I admire so much the work of the Slave Wrecks Project. This short video from @NatGeo follows their quest to identify and research the submerged history of slavery in the spirit of remembrance, preservation, and education.
Convened by the United Nations in 1975, a time of great division and global conflict, the World Conference on Women gathered in Mexico City for the first time. This poster for the groundbreaking conference is from our @amhistorymuseum. #IWD
Helvi Sipilä, a Finnish leader and organizer of the conference, said governments had ignored the issues the conference would tackle because, as she told the New York Times, "they thought they were women's problems, which women themselves have to solve." #IWD
"They have not recognized the connection between women's problems and such things as food production, population and the environment," Sipilä said. The conference was part of the International Women's Year, which was celebrated on this 1975 stamp from our @PostalMuseum. #IWD2022
We cannot know American history without knowing Black history. That is the message of @ASALH, a community that welcomed me before anyone knew my name. Founded in 1915 by the father of Black History Month, Dr. Carter Woodson, ASALH's 2022 #BHM focus is Black Health and Wellness.
Black Health and Wellness are timely topics that are also close to my heart. One of my daughters works in emergency medicine and often encourages people of color to consider medical professions. She sees how important it is to have role models who look like you.
The entire trajectory of our family was transformed because my grandfather, a sharecropper, was able to attend a historically Black college in 1910. Thanks to doors this opened, he became a dentist. Education is key to improving diversity in any field, especially in medicine.
I was weeping in the research room of the National Archives. I'd taken a pause from exhibition research to see if I could learn more about the earliest of my Bunch ancestors whose name I know: Candis Bunch.
Candis was an enslaved woman whose name I'd previously discovered attached to the marriage license for her son, my great grandfather Oscar Bunch. In a breakthrough at the Archives, I found mention of her death in 1870 as a 40-year-old freed woman in Wake County, North Carolina.
After that discovery, I nearly gave up. In the records of the Freedmen's Bureau, I unearthed a labor contract between her and a landowner. She'd received $11 for 44 days of farm work in 1867 and purchased items such as starch and seed cotton from the landowner.
It's not often that you leave a museum exhibition with a dramatically new way of looking at the world. This #NativeAmericanHeritageMonth, I challenge you to explore @SmithsonianNMAI's digital exhibition "Americans" and see what it reveals to you.
The first thing that struck me was how inundated we are with American Indian imagery, names, and stories in America. Jeep Cherokee, Tomahawk missile, street names, mascots. The exhibit asks: How is it that Indians can be so present and so absent in American life? #NDNsEverywhere
One of the most eye-opening sections takes a close look at one of our strangest yet most beloved holidays: Thanksgiving. How did a brunch in the forest get Indians in our heads?
Congressman John Lewis was the conscience of a nation. He challenged the country to live up to its ideals and to extend the blessings of liberty to all. We at the Smithsonian send our heartfelt thoughts and condolences to his family. s.si.edu/2CJ9Svh
His is an essential American story of strength, dignity, and courage. I am grateful to have known him and will continue to draw inspiration from his life and legacy. I'd like to share some of his story through @Smithsonian collections.
As the country's eyes turn to the memorial service for George Floyd today, my heart is heavy. I grieve for and extend my sympathies to George Floyd's family and community—and the far too many whose needless deaths were brought about by unjustified violence.
I am reminded of the day I spent with Mrs. Mamie Till Mobley, mother of Emmett Till, a child who was brutally murdered in 1955 for allegedly teasing a white clerk.
Mrs. Till Mobley decided to allow her son's casket to remain open during his funeral so that "the world could see what they did to my son." The images of Emmett Till published in the press galvanized the Civil Rights movement.