The Presence of my ancestors: Walking the trail they once experienced
Africans World Wide have been stereotyped all though-out history. From not being considered human, to not being educated, to even being closer kin to apes, we have faced and overcame more than many people believe. In present day some of those stereotypes still apply, as we are labeled trifling and my personal favorite—ignorant. One thing people forget is that we are strong, and in history we overcame these stereotypes by being so. With strength, hope, and pride our ancestors paved the way to the life we have now. And although many complain that we are still not equal, we damn sure came a long way, and with strength, hope, and pride we can go a lot further. Slavery imbedded these traits into us. It runs in our blood and in our veins. Our ancestors did so much for us to be here today. Many may not recognize it nor appreciate it, but experiences such as walking the Richmond Slave Trail makes us relive it. I had mixed emotions about the experience. At one point I felt saddened but the sadness soon turned into anger. A long time ago, I came to peace with myself when I decided not to blame White people for the misfortunes of African Americans. I learned to be optimistic about the event by thinking about how we (Africans) sold ourselves (other Africans) to the Whites and that we played an equal role in the situation. I learned to not forget, but to forgive the past and let the future speak for us. Walking the Slave Trail bought back all those emotions I learned to obstruct. I said to myself, “This is a nice contribute to blacks.” Once the trail came to a halt, my reaction changed, “That’s all?” It was a very short experience. I was honestly expecting to see more, and it disappointed me that one sign was literally in the middle of an old parking lot. On the contrary, what I did see was enough to paint a story. I saw the heavy chains, I saw the hunger, and I saw the pain in the African eyes as they walked to where they would be stationed at until sold. I couldn’t imagine being in that situation as I would feel sick mentally and physically. My will to live would have decreased and hope would have soon died along with my starving, abused body. The Canal Walk was so nicely exhibited.
As I walked, I wondered where the Slave Trail would start. I found a sign at the end of the Canal Walk that said the Slave Trail was across the street. Thinking to see similar monuments and pathways, I saw rocks and little old rusted signs. I shook my head and continued walking. The first thing I came across was the story about a slave escape. This story was interesting as Henry Brown hid inside of a tiny box (2 ft by 3 ft) in a successful attempt to freedom. In a sadder story, an enslaved blacksmith, Gabriel, called for hundreds and thousands of slaves to attack on Mayo’s Bridge. He was soon caught, arrested, and hung. He was influenced by powerful quotes said by Patrick Henry and the American Revolution. Continuing down 15th Street I stumble across the rocky parking lot, with the sign “Slave Auction Site.” Although the sign and location wasn’t very appealing, I discovered how they had a fancy hotel for slave buyers right across from the muddy infested dumps they held the Africans in. I would have never imagined they were right across the street. I was standing where my people were essentially sold for way less than they were worth. My heart sunk in as I thought about how that must have felt—standing there, half naked, with white people yelling foreign words and looking at you intensely. Most of them probably didn’t even grasp what was going on. The Auction Site led into the Reconciliation Triangle. This was the nicest contribute on the trail, and my personal favorite. It was a sculpture of two people embracing each other which to me could represent many things. At this site was a brief description of the Triangle Trade which consisted of Virginia, England, and West Africa. The most popular being the Transatlantic Slave trade, was between The Americas, England, and Western Africa. Cash Crops would be shipped to England in exchange for their manufactured goods. Then the goods from England would be sent to Western regions in Africa in exchange for slaves. Slaves would then be on the Middle Passage which is the long journey slaves had to endow to get to the Americas. This depressing trip led them to the docks of Virginia in which they were “housed” and sold at auction sites. Later up the road, I come to a sign saying “Lumpkin’s Slave Jail.” This jail was for the slaves who misbehaved or tried to run free. I had come across the sign before and thought “Why do they still have this up?” I didn’t know it was part of the tribute. Also known as the “Devil’s Half Acre” The owner, Mr. Lumpkin died soon after the Civil War, and his African-American widow and his former slave, Mary Lumpkin received his estate and turned it into a school for African Americans. The name was soon changed into “God’s Half Acre.” Now, in the same spot is the Richmond Train Station. To the left of the sign was the Slave Burial Site. This whole experience was an eye opener for me. Where I live holds so much history on my ancestors. Seeing all of this does not make me sad, but brings faith in me. As I know we came up from nowhere, we have an opportunity to a good life now. Our ancestors set the stone for us and it’s up to us to use it. This was not only educational to me but these people were my family, and my backbone. They made me who I am today, and I am thankful for the sacrifices they made. As most of them do not know the good they have accomplished, I know that their work paid off for their future generations. The trail may not have looked the best, but it made me realize we as blacks have a lot more to accomplish in life. It appealed greatly to my emotions as I felt as if I was a slave actually walking on the trail hoping for better days.
