The African Burial Grounds

"You may bury me in the bottom of Manhattan, I will rise.

My people will get me. 

I will rise out of the huts of history's shame." 

- Maya Angelou

       I am writing this one directly from memory, because I took so long to write up about this trip. It was a mix of procrastination and the excitement from homecoming that I believe delayed this entry.

       I remember being extremely tired, in a rush and in a daze preparing to get on a bus to New York. I remember stepping outside of my dorm and turning right back inside to get another sweater. I thought to myself, "If it's that cold here in DC, it will be that much colder in New York." It wasn't my first time traveling to New York. I consider New York to be my home away from home- I have many friends who reside in the Bronx as well as Brooklyn and Manhattan. It wasn't too long of a ride, mostly because everyone slept through it. I remember waking up once and looking around: the whole bus was silent and sleeping. It was a precious sight, really it was. 

      When we arived at the site, it was as cold as I expected it to be. Dr. Carr began our adventure with a prayer and the removal of his sweater. He said that if we only knew how important this site was, we would not be cold. While some tried to understand, other's whispered if they could have his sweater. It was explained to us that in he process of building new buildings, construction workers came across bones, lots of bones. They discovered that this place, this part of New York was the burial grounds for African slaves only so long ago. 

"For all those who were lost

For all those who were stolen

For all those who were left behind

For all those who were not forgotten"

    When we were directed inside of the museum we learned that the slaves took burrying they're dead very seriously. We also learned many other customs that they'd shared.

    And then they let us free into Harlem where everyone shopped and ate. 

    Manhattan won't ever be the same for me. I've been to New York so many times, and it's a shame I'd never known that that was there. I wonder if my parents even know it's there. I wonder if my friends from New York even know it's there. I feel it's my unspoken duty to inform everyone I know, simply because I'm so frustrated with the fact I didn't know. Everyone should know: our ancestors died so that we could see a better day. They deserve more than many thanks. And they at least deserve the acknowledgement of where their bodies were laid to rest.

-Nicole McKinney