Drafts of the Week: Taylor Swift, Barbie and the History of Slavery
The pendulum is swinging heavy y'all
What I’m listening to: Taylor Swift. All Taylor Swift. She’s in the Bay Area this weekend and we just secured tickets through *~sources~* and now I’m cramming. Sparks fly, baby.
What I’m watching: Nothing. I don’t have time to watch anything because I’m studying Taylor Swift.
What I’m reading: OK, vibe shift. I’m reading a book called Dark Work: The Business of Slavery in Rhode Island. As you can imagine, it’s equally illuminating and grim. When I was recently in Rhode Island (where I grew up), I was saying to Brad how I know slavery was part of the history but I knew nothing about it. We certainly weren’t taught it in school and it wasn’t discussed at home – because my family didn’t know anything about it either.
I read this article in the Atlantic about how Germany does all these acts and public tributes to the Holocaust to ensure it’s not forgotten, and the journalist explored ways in which Americans are trying to publicly come to terms with the evil of slavery. One of these is putting up tribute stones in places where enslaved people lived to make it personal, tangible, searing. I dug deeper and one of the stones was unveiled in my hometown last month, pressed into the dirt in front of a church less than a mile from the house I grew up in. I passed it every day growing up; our family dog, when she ran away, was found sitting in front on the lawn. When I drove by it in June, they were waving a Pride flag.
I was floored (by the Pride flag, yes, but more by this discovery of the history tangled with slavery.) I had no idea. I took it as a sign to learn more. The author of the book, Christy Clark-Pujara, spoke at and event honoring the unveiling of this stone so I looked up her book and got it from the library (support your local library!). It’s rich with information and fascinating to unpack. I mean Jesus Christ, how do I sum this up? Even when slavery was illegal in Rhode Island, multiple families were involved in supporting the structure whether through direct slave-trading, or, for much of the 19th century, running textile mills that providing clothing, shoes, and more to plantations in the South. Each page has a name I’m familiar with, whether because it’s on a statue or street, or on the class roster from my school days.
What I’m most fascinated by is that we often think (or, at least we do in the North) that slavery was a problem in the South – sitting on our Yankee pedestal like it’s not our problem. And yet.
There’s an entire history we’re not talking about. (There’s also the slaughter and enslavement of native peoples on Rhode Island land – which the book discusses and again, we glossed over entirely in class.) I can’t get over the feeling that I’m now on the other side of the Confederate monument headlines where I’m recognizing and looking at names I know and shifting my idea of what they mean in history.
After I lived in the South, I would have this feeling coming back home any time anyone mentioned racism or ask about segregation, and be like – OK, but, look around. It’s no different here? I didn’t really understand that until I lived in the South itself and saw the hypocrisy from above the Mason-Dixon. It’s rewarding to be reading a book that explains why. And despite the pain and having to put it down from time-to-time for a breather, it’s worth it.
What I’m eating: Omg please, I’m just drinking coffee right now. That whole piece above was heavy I’m not going to sit here and talk about croissants, or whatever.
What I can’t stop thinking about: See above. (Not the croissants, the book.)
Also Barbie. I think I’ll go again?