How the Word Is Passed: A Reckoning with the History of Slavery Across America

Smith visits the National Museum of African American History and Culture (NMAAHC) with his mother’s father and father’s mother. Smith notes that the NMAAHC “capture[s] so much of Black America’s complex relationship with this country” (271) and “recognizes that Blackness […] is the foundation upon which the country was built” (272). Having walked past a statue of Thomas Jefferson bearing the names of those he enslaved, a display of a KKK robe, and a picture of a lynching, Smith and his grandparents arrive at the room dedicated to Emmett Till. As they look at the casket, Smith’s grandfather tells him that Till used to live a few miles away from him. This prompts Smith to think about his grandparents’ experiences of the country. 

Before conversing with his grandfather in the living room in New Orleans, he includes an excerpt providing historical context for the year of his grandfather’s birth—slavery had only ended 60 years prior, and the Great Depression and Great Migration were at their height. Smith describes his grandfather, born in Monticello, Mississippi, as professorial and distinguished in his demeanor. Smith’s grandfather talks about his experience of school, noting that education for Black children was sparse. His ability to immerse himself in books and continue his education depended on the benevolence of white women, his middle school principal, and his older sister. He shares stories of indignities and intimidation he faced growing up, moving “from one anecdote to the next, processing memories out loud as he unearthed them from places he had not visited for many years” (276). Smith is surprised by but understanding of his grandfather’s assertion that Black people could protect themselves from white harm by having white people who would vouch for them, as long as Black people deferred to their authority.

Before conversing with his grandmother, Smith includes an excerpt contextualizing her year of birth—white terror, policies to legalize the terror, and the emerging world war. Smith describes his grandmother, born in Quincy, Florida, as kind, tender, and unassuming, “but she is not silent” (279). After recounting the death of her father and mother and how she came to live with her grandfather, who was a sharecropper, Smith’s grandmother expresses the things she’d want to know about her grandfather’s life but never asked. The questions include those about his living conditions, segregation, education, and parents. She recounts an experience she had with him on a segregated bus ride where her grandfather was made to stand for eight hours. She also discusses the verbal and physical harassment she experienced from white drivers and schoolchildren on roads in the rural South. 

As their conversation continues, Smith’s grandmother shares a story she heard from her grandfather about a lynch mob and a Black man who survived. Smith doesn’t know whether the story is true or not, but he accepts it for the purpose it serves—to “engender a sense of caution to keep them safe” (285). Smith’s grandmother also reveals that she found the trip to NMAAHC depressing, emphasizing that she lived it. This prompts Smith to reflect on how the museum exhibits are not abstractions for his grandparents, but rather mirrors that affirm both their experience and their survival. 

As Smith concludes the chapter, he thinks about how his “grandparents’ voices are a museum [he is] still learning how to visit” (288). Although he admits that he forgets that they embody the impact of slavery and racial violence, he acknowledges how they illuminate that slavery was not so long ago. Because slavery is central to the founding of the US, it must be in people’s memories. Furthermore, the effort to confront the history of slavery and its contemporary impact must be a collective endeavor. There are plenty of opportunities to learn about the history of slavery from scholars, public historians, museums, educators, and elders. The matter of reckoning with slavery, then, is not a question of ability, but rather a question of willingness.