Reinterpreting America's History

By Kendra Hamilton
Once the home to founding father Thomas Jefferson, today Monticello is one of the nation's most prized historical sites. It also is among the most popular of Virginia's tourist attractions, drawing upwards of 500,000 visitors a year.
But, for many African Americans, the word Monticello is a raft of unpleasant associations.
Slaves? Humph, bet the docents call them "servants." FFVs — those Old South-worshipping "first families of Virginia." Bet the place is crawling with them.
And what about those "gentleman" historians? Folks like Dr. Merrill D. Peterson, an endowed chair at the University of Virginia who, in 1960, called the enduring story of Jefferson's slave mistress Sally Hemings a fantasy — "the Negroes' pathetic wish for a little pride, and their subtle ways of confounding the White folks."
Gee, what an interesting place. I think I'll call my travel agent and book a trip right now...
Fortunately, a new breeze is blowing over this Charlottesville, Va., mountaintop.
Last year's news of DNA evidence purportedly proving that Hemings and Jefferson had at least one son hit the "old guard" at the third president's shrine with the impact of a category five hurricane. Ironically, the headlines may have overshadowed far more fundamental changes at Monticello. The biggest story that was missed amid the media storm, was that of a quiet, diminutive, almost grandmotherly figure at Monticello — a woman who could always be depended on for a drama-deflating smile or a few words startling for their unflappable common sense.
Her name is Dianne Swann-Wright. She is the first African American hired to a senior staff position at the Thomas Jefferson Memorial Foundation, which owns and operates Monticello. And though her title — director of special programming — is dauntingly vague, Wright is nobody's "house Negro." She is the real thing: a potent symbol of change both to an old guard jealous of its inherited privileges and to a yet untapped, and none-too-willing, stream of potential African American visitors.
And Monticello is not the only place experiencing this refreshing breeze.
Earlier this year, Virginia's Colonial Williamsburg historical site began its "Enslaving Virginia" program, which offers a prickly new spin on Colonial life. The program is a part of a new "inclusiveness" strategy at Colonial Williamsburg, according to Harvey Bakari, manager of African American program development. The historic park has undergone two reorganizations in as many years, both with a view toward "integrating" African American content into all of its programs. The result has been a new visibility for African American interpreters and a headline-grabbing series of programs.
These have drawn a strong response from both visitors and front-line interpreters — especially "The Sword Is Drawn," which dramatizes the British government's offer of freedom to slaves who joined the "redcoats" during the American Revolution.
"You'd be surprised at how traumatic this is for some of our White interpretive staff," Bakari says. And an upcoming program —"Broken Spirit," a frank depiction of a slave whipping and its aftermath — will likely draw more fire.
But Williamsburg remains committed to the new direction, especially since the controversy hasn't put a dent in visitorship. About 1.4 million visitors per year buy tickets to the park's attractions. About 4 percent — or 56,000 — of them are African American. And though that number sounds small, it's actually a significant improvement.
"How many Black visitors did we have before [Dr.] Rex Ellis started the [Smithsonian Institution's] African American Interpretation Program in the 1970s?" Bakari pauses a moment to ponder that one: "About zero."
Zero was most certainly the number of Black visitors drawn to Somerset Place Historic Site in rural Crenshaw, N.C. "And here is the irony about places like Somerset Place," says Dorothy Spruill Redford, a descendant of Somerset Place slaves and, since 1990, its site manager. "When originally established [as a historic site] by the state, it was designated ‘for Whites only.' There was a dance hall here and a hunting lodge — for Whites. But just think! This was a plantation with any number of descendants of the people who had built it living [in homes] bordering the site, and they were not allowed on the grounds."
Those days are long gone at Somerset Place. Redford's years of independent research —  which culminated in a 1986 family reunion of slave descendants and a book treatment in 1988 — have transformed the historic site almost beyond recognition.
The Somerset board now includes descendants of both slave owners and slaves. And even better, "What we're seeing at Somerset [Place] is Black families, Black church groups, Black summer day schools,  camp groups," Redford says.
They're drawn by a program that, as at Williamsburg, stresses inclusiveness. Visitors to Somerset Place receive a site orientation and then tour the work areas and slave quarters before ever setting foot in the owner's house.
The site's overall visitorship is a fraction of Williamsburg's — just 25,000. But Redford estimates that 25 percent of the visitors are African American. And now that the "dependencies" — the slave quarters and work areas — are being reconstructed, the numbers may even increase.