It’s not until you quiet yourself down enough to let the trees speak, it’s not until your hands dig deep into the soil and clay, that you come to understand just how futile it is to try to erase history completely. That thought rested at the back of my mind after spending two days outside of Richmond, Virginia at the estate of a former president. 

 

I came to James Madison’s Montpelier expecting to be immersed in history through a two-day archaelogical and oral history expedition. What I got was an affirmation of just how rich my blood is, and continues to be in juxtaposition to American history. Despite the efforts of those who want to hide it away or destroy it completely, from the highest seats of government to the trolls in gaming chairs on their computers in their basements.

 

I arrived in Richmond Wednesday evening, settling into my hotel with dinner from Waffle House. The next morning I linked up with the fam from my research circle, Pulp Culture Inc who had been part of the full week’s program. After a 45 minute drive, we got to the grounds and after settling in, immediately joined a tour of the Gilmore family cabin. The cabin, rustic and quietly beautiful, anchored a pastoral scene just off of the main road. Our guide, Wendy, explained the history of the cabin and the family’s struggles to keep it in the early 1900s as the wealthy DuPont family had purchased land from other freedmen’s families all around them. I immediately saw the similarities to what’s going on today with private equity firms seizing and snatching homes. That thought was underscored once we walked a trail into the woods, and visited the family burial ground. Seeing the parents’ headstones marked with pieces of their iron bedframe, as the sun rose further between the trees, moved me almost to tears.

 

It wouldn’t be the last time that happened.

 

During those days, I got to work with members of The Montpelier Foundation’s archaelogy staff on their mission of discovering, preserving, and restoring artifacts and structures on Madison’s former plantation estate in Orange, Virginia. It was a surreal experience at times, walking the grounds. The current land of the estate is 2765 acres. ACRES. Walking past the cabins of those enslaved, I thought a lot about Paul Jennings, Madison’s”body servant” who would go on to write the first White House memoir, A Colored Man's Reminiscences of James Madison. He’d gain his own freedom, not by Madison - but through Senator Daniel Webster who would purchase him from an insurance agent in Washington D.C. who Madison’s widow, Dolley Madison, sold him to in order to lessen debts of the family. Webster would free him in the agreement.

 

History like that stood out as we got to tour the Montpelier train depot and post office. Seeing the white and “colored” entrances was startling enough, but standing and feeling how small the colored section was physically (1/3rd the size of the white section) had me steaming. That got exacerbated seeing the advertisements that would’ve been on the wall in the white section when it was in operation - a poster for D.W. Griffith’s “Birth of a Nation” and an ad for cigarettes featuring the “Sambo” character used to denigrate Black people.

 

Those moments were buttressed by the wonder of digging in the field near the Madison’s Temple monument. Finding a piece of ceramic that could be 18th century with my team was a highlight, tempered by the fact that what they were doing was saving history. Talking with each member of the staff was a thorough learning experience of its own, and I came away appreciating the work that they do but primarily their intent and sincerity. They prided themselves on being able to help show the FULL history of Montpelier. Not just the whimsical parts. Listening to the director, Dr. Matthew Reeves and Montpelier Descendents Committee Director Henry Anglin talk about the history of the enslaved burial ground, and the work done to preserve it and build a future memorial site there…even now, as I write about it, I feel the chills I had that Friday morning.

 

The biggest highlight to me, was spending time listening to and learning from the members of the Montpelier Descendants Committee. The group, comprised of those who were descended from those enslaved at Montpelier and the surrounding plantations, was created in 2019. The MDC is a co-steward of the Montpelier site, having achieved structural partity with The Montpelier Foundation in 2021. Hearing from Henry and his sister, Madolynn, and from Dr. Iris Ford, made me truly feel that kinship with those folks and inspired by their mission. As they express on their website, “Our goal is to promote a better understanding of their lives based on an inclusive history of American slavery—and a better understanding of how their lives informed ideals of universal liberty enshrined in the Constitution, yet denied to them.”

 

That last part hits home more now, as I’m writing this on the day after the largest remaining antebellum mansion in the South has burned to the ground. The Nottoway Plantation in Louisiana, which recently rebranded as The Nottoway Resort, was once the home of 155 enslaved people according to records. The 64-room house is completely gone after a 40-hour fire, and I saw the reactions of many Black people online mainly rejoicing in its demise, even taking selfies as it burned. This was in contrast to all of those who were white who mourned Nottoway’s demise as “heartbreaking”.  I'm not gonna lie, I'm not overly sad Nottoway burned to the ground. It might've happened as a sign of the times.

 

Plantations still standing in the United States have been marketed to a public as “grand remnants of the old South”, neglectful of the millions of lives lost and buried to build and cultivate those estates. People held weddings there, knowing it was land caked with the tears and blood of Black people enslaved. Nottoway burning is the ancestors pointing a mighty finger at this American society saying, “You WILL remember your misdeeds.” If we're disrespecting those enslaved like that, you can't expect some of their descendants to rejoice in a symbol of that misery burning to smithereens.

 

There are those who are working to ensure that all of those Black people enslaved and those who freed themselves have their stories told, from professors to guides to fellows to archaelogists. The Whitney Plantation, also in Louisiana, is a great example of how it should be done - history told with respect to those who were enslaved, a full accounting of those times without sugarcoating anything, done by professionals with respect for their work. And I feel that the programs at The Montpelier Foundation is another fine example, especially for those of African descent.

 

I left Montpelier that Friday evening full. Renewed. Reaffirmed. Forever grateful to the fam from Pulp Culture who I got to experience this with (side note: Waffle House at 6:30 A.M. will forever BE THE BOMB), everyone at The Montpelier Foundation and The Montpelier Descendants Committeee. Receiving my certificate of participation in the expedition made me swell a little with pride. I thought about my late parents, who instilled in me a thirst to learn everything I can about my history on a diasporic level and to revel in being Black even in those bittersweet moments when confronted with how this nation has treated us. I felt like I found another piece of myself in that Piedmont clay, in the periwinkle that ringed the land where those who were enslaved were laid to rest and the ginger planted so long ago which still grows there. It’s an experience I am so very grateful to have undertaken. It reaffirmed how much we are living history, and how much our ancestors still speak through us. 

 

If you can, check out the sites for The Montpelier Foundation and The Montpelier Descendants Committee for more information and ways on how you can aid their mission.