upworthy

american history

History (Education)

The Statue of Liberty is a symbol of welcoming immigrants. That wasn't what she was made for.

Dr. Joy DeGruy explains how Lady Liberty's oft-ignored shackles symbolize her near-forgotten origins.

Photo credit: Canva (left), Atsme (right)

Many people are not aware of the chains at the Statue of Liberty's feet, much less why they are there.

With her flowing robes, flaming torch held high, and crown radiating out to the world like a beacon of hope, the Statue of Liberty has stood as an American emblem off the coast of New York for over two centuries.

If you were to ask the average American what they think of when they think of the Statue of Liberty, many would say she's a symbol of the liberty sought by people around the world who have come to our shores to find it. As the first American sight countless immigrants saw when they arrived at Ellis Island, with her pedestal bearing the words, "Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free…" Lady Liberty has long been synonymous with the American tradition of welcoming immigrants.

But that's not actually what she was made for.

statue of liberty, liberty island, ellis island, immigration, slaveryLady Liberty welcomes people to New York.Photo credit: Canva

French politician Édouard de Laboulaye conceived of the idea for the Statue of Liberty to be built as a gift from France to the United States in 1865, the year the U.S. Civil War ended. That timing wasn't a coincidence. Laboulaye was a staunch abolitionist and president of the French Anti-Slavery Society, and his views were central to his commissioning of the statue. The statue was to be a gift celebrating the end of slavery in the U.S., as well as the centennial of the nation's founding and a symbol of good relations between France and America. Its ties to immigration wouldn't come until decades later.

Dr. Joy Degruy, sociologist, educator, and author of "Post-Traumatic Slave Syndrome: America's Legacy of Enduring Injury and Healing,"" shares a story about visiting the Statue of Liberty in her book and talks. She recounted the story to Brandi Harvey on the Vault Empowers podcast, informing people—many for the first time—that the Statue of Liberty's origin story began with anti-slavery activism, not immigration.

Watch:

As Dr. DeGruy explains, the original design had Lady Liberty holding broken chains in her left hand, not the tablet we see today. Sometime between the original drawings and the final design, those chains were moved to her feet—where they aren't visible unless you are flying through the air over them—and the tablet bearing the date July 4, 1776 in Roman numerals took their place.

Exactly how and why that change was made is not entirely clear in the historical record. But the fact that it even happened has not been widely shared, even by the people giving tours of the statue and sharing her history. DeGruy asked the tour guide about the chains on a visit and went on a hunt for the historical document showing the original design.

"So we go into the basement of the Statue of Liberty," she said. "We're in the basement of the Statue of Liberty. We find the document—encased in glass, behind figurines, facing a wall in a hallway. So here we have the truth, hidden in plain sight."

In a deep dive of the written historical records we have, researcher Rebecca M. Joseph, PhD. fact-checked various myths about the statue and her findings verified her anti-slavery origins as one of two parts of Laboulaye's vision of celebrating American liberty:

"The Statue of Liberty would never have been conceived or built if its principal French and American advocates had not been active abolitionists who understood slavery as the cause of the Civil War and its end as the realization of the promise of liberty for all as codified in the Declaration of Independence. But the Statue of Liberty was not intended entirely as a monument to the end of slavery. The statue’s form after June 1871 clearly embodies Laboulaye’s views on the two-part realization, in 1776 and 1864, of his ideal of liberty. The centennial of the American Revolution was significant to the French sponsors because the Civil War ended slavery and preserved the Union at a time when the France’s future was still uncertain. For the American republicans, it was a timely opportunity to erect a monument to their efforts and worldview. Laboulaye and his French colleagues also wished to send a political message back to France. Bartholdi cast the project in the broadest terms, hoping to encourage additional commissions."

\u00c9douard Ren\u00e9 de Laboulaye, statue of liberty, anti-slaveryFrench abolitionist Édouard René de Laboulaye, who commissioned the Statue of Liberty.upload.wikimedia.org

So how did we come to associate the Statue of Liberty with immigration? That's another interesting story, as Joseph explains:

"The conventional interpretation of the statue as a monument to American immigrants is a twentieth-century phenomenon. In its early years (1871-1886), that view was only rarely and vaguely expressed, while references to the Civil War and abolition of slavery occur repeatedly from its first introduction to the United States in 1871 up to and including the dedication celebrations in 1886. Immigrants did not actually see the Statue of Liberty in large numbers until after its unveiling. In the early twentieth century, the statue became a popular symbol for nativists and white supremacists. Official use of the statue's image to appeal to immigrants only began in earnest with public efforts to Americanize immigrant children and the government’s advertising campaign for World War I bonds. The 'immigrant' interpretation gained momentum in the 1930s as Americans prepared for war with Hitler and by the 1950s, it had become the predominant understanding of the statue's original purpose and meaning."

Since DeGruy raised the issue of the exclusion of the statue's anti-slavery origins, the Statue of Liberty national monument and museum has updated its educational program to include them. For some, it might seem like a mere factual correction, but for Black Americans who visit the Statue of Liberty, De Gruy says, it could potentially change their whole relationship to her symbolism.

"When Black people walk through, you hear white people say, 'Oh well, you know, my great great, and my great great…' but Black men, women, and children feel no connection to Lady Liberty. But how much prouder would they be if they knew that their ancestors that didn't come through Ellis Island, that came chained together in the belly of ships, that she was standing on those shackles? How much prouder would those young people be?"

Dr. DeGruy shared more about how Black Americans can find healing through hidden history. You can watch the full Vault Empowers interview with her here:

- YouTubewww.youtube.com

From Your Site Articles
history
Race & Ethnicity

Elizabeth Eckford made history at age 15. Here's the full story behind the iconic photo.

She faced the angry white mob—and the Arkansas National Guard—alone on her first day of high school in 1957. But that was only the beginning.

@ayealiah/Twitter

15-year-old Elizabeth Eckford was one of the Little Rock Nine who attended the first integrated high school in Arkansas.

On September 4, 1957, nine students arrived at Central High School in Little Rock, Arkansas for their first day of school. They were bright students, chosen for their academic excellence to attend the most prestigious school in the state. They were there to learn—and to make history as the first Black students to attend the previously all-white school.

They wouldn't enter the school that day, nor for weeks after. Their entrance was barred not only by an angry white mob but by the Arkansas National Guard who were called in by the governor to prevent the students from integrating the school.

Eight of the nine arrived together that first day in a carpool arranged by the local NAACP chapter. One student, 15-year-old Elizabeth Eckford, didn't have a telephone at home and was unable to be reached to learn about the carpool plan. She took the city bus, which dropped her off within two blocks of the school. As she approached, she faced the racist crowd alone.

One photo encapsulated much—but not all—of the moment. We see Eckford being followed by a group of angry white segregationists, but we can't see that they were yelling, "Lynch her! Lynch her!" We can see the Arkansas National Guard, but we can't see that President Eisenhower would have to call in federal troops weeks later to finally get the students into the building. We see Elizabeth Eckford walking with her head high, but we can't see the courage and resolve it took her not to walk through a crowd of people threatening to kill her just for wanting to go to school.

We see a snapshot of a horrific moment in American history, but we can't see what happened after.

After being barred entrance to the school, Eckford tried to return home, but she was unable to go back to the bus stop where she'd been dropped off due to the 250 or so angry white people behind her. She decided to try to get to the next bus stop a block ahead of her.

Buddy Lonesome of the St. Louis Argus described what he had witnessed at the scene: "The mob of twisted whites, galvanized into vengeful action by the inaction of the heroic state militia, was not willing that the young school girl should get off so easily. Elizabeth Eckford had walked into the wolf's lair, and now that they felt she was fair game, the drooling wolves took off after their prey. The hate mongers, who look exactly like other, normal white men and women, took off down the street after the girl."

She would get home eventually. At first, she sat on the edge of the bus stop bench as someone yelled "Drag her over to this tree!" A small group of journalists formed a makeshift barrier between her and the crowd. New York Times reporter Benjamin Fine sat down next to her, put his arm around her and said, "Don't let them see you cry." Later, after being asked if he'd overstepped his professional bounds, Fine replied, "A reporter has to be a human being."

A white woman, Grace Lorch, escorted Eckford onto the bus, but not before she told the crowd that they'd all be ashamed of themselves someday. Eckford was relieved when Lorch got off the bus; her help, though undoubtedly well-intentioned, had only inflamed the hatred of the crowd. (Lorch and her husband would eventually move their family to Canada after facing harassment, job losses, and accusations of being communists for their civil rights activism.)

After exiting the bus, Eckford immediately went to find her mother. She fell into her arms and the two cried together, neither saying a word.

What about the student yelling at Eckford in the photo? Her name was Hazel Bryan—later becoming Hazel Massery. She was the daughter of parents who were unabashed about their racism.

Massery would have a change of heart in the years that followed. She became a follower of the civil rights movement and began to understand how wrong she had been. In 1962 or 1963, she called Eckford to apologize. But she didn't stop there. She left her intolerant church, volunteered with projects to serve underprivileged Black students and single Black mothers, read the works of Cornel West and Shelby Steele and argued about racial issues with her mother.

Eventually, Massery and Eckford realized they had a lot in common as individuals and became friends. They even appeared together on The Oprah Winfrey Show and talked about reconciliation. But the friendship did not last. The rest of the Little Rock Nine had never been fans of the friendship, nor of Massery's appearance at public events about their history. Massery seems to have felt frustrated that Eckford wouldn't absolve her completely of her past racist behavior, and she ultimately cut off ties with her.

Ten years ago, David Margolick, who had interviewed both women multiple times over the years, asked Eckford and Massery to pose together for one last photo. Eckford agreed, but Massery refused.

Both Eckford and Massery are still alive. Eckford celebrated her 80th birthday in October with a small celebration in front of Central High School, with student members of the Civil Rights Memory Project and faculty there to honor her. This is not history from some far distant era. People are alive who saw it happen with their own eyes.

And this isn't even the full scope of the story. The Little Rock Nine spent the school year being brutally harassed even after they were finally allowed into the building. And both Eckford and Massery's stories include many more details, which David Margolick has covered in Vanity Fair and Slate. His storytelling illustrates how the story behind the iconic photo is worse (at the time) and more complex (in the long run) than the simplistic narratives we often hear about the civil rights era and are definitely worth a read.

How does Eckford feel about the photo? She told the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette that she sometimes feels nothing when she sees it and sometimes it bowls her over. But she's never felt good about the photo, nor does she see herself in it the way others do.

"They talk about it as strength," she said, "But I've never considered myself a strong person."

Fair enough. No one should ever have to be strong like that in the first place, especially at 15. May we all remember and learn from this history, and keep working toward a future where racism is truly and fully overcome.


This article originally appeared on 2.5.22

From Your Site Articles
history
Education

The enslaved man who stole a Confederate ship, sailed to freedom and became a U.S. Congressman

In a unanimous bipartisan move, South Carolina will honor Robert Smalls with the state's first statue of a Black American.

Library of Congress (Public Domain)

Robert Smalls led an extraordinary life.

South Carolina's statehouse boasts some two dozen statues honoring individuals from statesmen to "heroes" of the Confederacy, but there's a glaring omission from the lineup. Up until now, the former Confederate state—where the Civil War began at Fort Sumter and where approximately 1 in 4 residents is Black—has never erected an individual monument of a Black American.

In a unanimous bipartisan decision led by Republican Rep. Brandon Cox, Robert Smalls will become the first to be honored in this way, and his heroic life certainly earned him the accolade. As Cox told the Associated Press, "We’ve got a lot of history, good and bad. This is our good history."

Smalls was born into slavery in Beaufort, South Carolina, in 1839. He and his mother lived together in a small cabin behind their enslaver's mansion until Smalls was sent to Charleston at age 12 to be hired out. When the Civil War broke out in 1861, he was in his early 20s and soon found himself an enslaved crewmember of a ship that was contracted out to the Confederate Army. There he was, an enslaved man sailing a steamboat for an army that was fighting to keep him enslaved.


Robert Smalls dressed in a suitRobert Smalls, S.C. M.C. Born in Beaufort, SC, April 1839Library of Congress

Late one night, when the white crewmembers had all gone ashore, Smalls and the other enslaved crewmembers stole the ship with Smalls as pilot. They sailed to a wharf where they picked up their family members, then they made their way north. The sixteen enslaved people aboard managed to sail right on past Fort Sumter and Fort Moultrie, where Confederate forces were stationed, thanks to Smalls donning a captain's hat and knowing the proper signals to give as they passed. He steered the ship to the naval blockade and turned the ship over to the U.S. Navy.

The enslaved crew and their families were now free Americans.

But Smalls didn't stop there. He provided valuable intelligence to the Union since he knew the Confederate waters well and served for the remainder of the war. He became the first Black person to serve as a pilot for the U.S. Navy and fought 17 Civil War battles as the captain of the very ship he has stolen.

His status as war hero was solidified. But he didn't stop there, either.

large white plantation homeRobert Smalls' house in Beaufort, South CarolinaPublic Domain

He returned to Beaufort in 1864 and used the reward money he's received from turning over the Confederate ship to buy the home of his former enslaver at a tax auction. In just three years, Smalls had gone from enslaved man to war hero and owner of his former owner's property.

And he became well known for it. He started his own business and advocated for public education. The people of Beaufort saw him as a leader and he began to rise politically. He served as a delegate to the State Constitutional Convention in 1868, then as a state representative, then state senator, then as a delegate to the Republican National Convention, and finally as a representative in the U.S. Congress.

He ended up serving five terms in the House of Representatives during the Reconstruction Era, when Black Americans voted in large numbers for the first time and were elected to government positions. According to the National Parks Service, Beaufort was viewed as a symbol of successful Reconstruction policies, with formerly enslaved people engaging in education, politics, and land ownership in the former Confederate county.

- YouTubeyoutu.be

However, the glory of that era didn't last as white Southerners regained political power. By the time Smalls died in 1915, segregation laws were widespread and the freedom that had been so hard won for Black Americans in the South had been curtailed. Even Smalls' incredible life story was largely forgotten by the "Lost Cause" rewriting of Civil War history.

However, the 21st century has seen historians setting the record straight and uplifting heroes like Robert Smalls who have not gotten the national recognition they deserve. After years of lobbying by the community of Beaufort to have Smalls and the reality of the Reconstruction Era recognized, January 2017, President Barack Obama issued an executive order establishing Reconstruction Era National Monument (now known as Reconstruction Era National Historical Park) in Beaufort County in January 2017.

And now South Carolina will erect a statue in Smalls' honor on the grounds of the statehouse. It's worth noting that the idea has been floated for years with bipartisan and biracial support, but had always faced some quiet opposition. Now it looks like everyone's on board, so it's just a matter of working out the exact design and location for the statue.

It's been a long time coming, but South Carolina is finally highlighting history we can all be proud of—a historic step in the right direction.

From Your Site Articles
history
Democracy

This 7-minute cartoon from the 70's about greed and racism in America still resonates today

"Freedom River" features the incredible voice of Orson Welles.

via Cartoon Crazys/YouTube

"Freedom River" a 1971 cartoon parable.

An interesting historical document from 1971 has resurfaced online because people believe it is as relevant today as it was 53 years ago. “Freedom River,” a 7-minute cartoon parable, shows that no matter how much time passes, Americans continue to contend with the same destructive forces.

“Freedom River” was directed by Sam Weiss for Bosustow Productions. The cartoon features narration by the great actor-writer-director Orson Welles. Welles directed what many call the greatest film of all time, “Citizen Kane,” as well as other classics such as “A Touch of Evil” and “The Magnificent Ambersons.”

The story of “Freedom River” mirrors that of America’s founding. Settlers from foreign lands find a river that promises liberty and abundance. The settlers fall in love with their new home and a world where they are finally free to pursue their own happiness.

However, the settlers began to take paradise for granted. They exploit the river they love while forgetting what drove them to discover it in the first place.

- YouTubewww.youtube.com

“And so it happened that because they so coveted the river, they barred from it people who looked unfamiliar or talked differently in the false belief that strangers were not deserving – little remembering that not long ago they too were strangers,” Welles’ Narrator says. “And when some among them arose and selfishly took more than their share, the people did not stop them but instead resolved to do the same, instead of helping those that were ill and weak. They despised them and chastised them for their idleness. And even as the river grew weak and muddy, glib leaders said it was strong and clear. The people became confused. They did not know what to do.”

Fifty-three years after “Freedom River” was released, it still resonates with many because America still grapples with destructive greed. The country also has to contend with waves of xenophobia that crop up every time a new group of people attempts to establish themselves in the Land of the Free.

The film also addresses the perils of environmental destruction, a problem that first entered the public consciousness in the late ‘60s and is now one of the most critical issues we face as a species.



Many may feel defeated that America hasn’t overcome the problems of greed and xenophobia over the past 5 decades. However, the parable comes with a powerful solution: these problems can be overcome if we work together.

Ultimately, the Freedom River settlers have a decision to make. They can cower to authority, abandon the river and their freedoms, or clean up their mess, mend their ways, and start again.

“Let us work to make the waters of freedom flow fresh and strong again where it has been fouled by our foolishness,” the cartoon concludes. “It can be made clear by our wisdom where it has grown stagnant from our neglect. It can be kept fresh by our vigilance. And the people listening said, ‘The life or death of the river of freedom is in our hands.’”

From Your Site Articles
cartoons
Trending Stories