Article courtesy of The L.A. Wave Newspaper.
For more stories, visit The L.A. Wave Newspaper online.
By Leiloni De Gruy, Staff Writer --
Walking through the “America I Am: The African-American Imprint” exhibit at the California Science Center can be a mentally and physically exhausting experience.
Taking into account how slaves were captured, tortured and overworked — then later freed, only to be segregated, discriminated against, ridiculed and lynched — can do a number on the psyche. However, toward its end, the exhibit inspires feelings of hope in the telling of stories about civil rights leaders and others who helped guide the African-American experience into a new era.
Asking them to share reactions to some of the more haunting displays, The Wave recently arranged to accompany two groups of guests — first a group of schoolchildren, then three adults — on their journey through the winding path of the exhibit, as they took in more than 200 artifacts and visuals on display. All told, they cover 400 years of African and Black American history in politics, religion, economics, sports, academia and entertainment.
Of all displays on the approximately 90-minute tour, none seemed to have a bigger impact on visitors than a set of authentic Cape Coast doors — also referred to as “the doors of no return.” It is said that once slaves passed through them, all hope of ever returning home was lost. Also featured in this section of the exhibit: a re-created slave ship, coffle chains and shackles, bills of sale for a woman and child, a cotton gin, branding irons used to track slaves, a replica whip and plantation horn, and an authentic Ku Klux Klan robe and hood.
“These images right here are how they would steal the African people from Africa, make them walk for miles and miles to the coast with chains linking them from neck to neck and ankle to ankle,” said Tamika Lamison, a program manager with the California African American Museum. “Then they would put them on a boat and take them on a journey called the Middle Passage, where they would sell them into slavery.”
She was speaking to third-graders on the tour, who had a difficult time wrapping their minds around these tragic events of history. Asked by a child how generic items like cowry shells could be traded for people, as hard as it was to answer, Lamison replied: “They didn’t look at Africans like people — they looked at them like property.”
Approaching the Cape Coast doors, visitors were asked to imagine the trials endured by Africans who awaited the arrival of slave ships. “Imagine that when you pass over this silver line, you have to leave your home forever,” said Kapri, a docent who did not wish to disclose her last name. “This is what happened in history.
When we pass over this line we are going to go through the doors. When the doors open all you see is water and a boat waiting for you. Then you are put in chains that link you and other slaves neck to neck and ankle to ankle.”
It was an opening for what everyone would see next. The hallway containing the doors is dark, but straight ahead, a glimmer of light shines on the rusted shackles and chains used to imprison untold generations of Black people. “Can you imagine being held in a dark, dirty room made of stone? Imagine if you couldn’t get out, you couldn’t go to a bathroom,” added Kapri. “If you went to the bathroom, it was just there. If someone had to throw up, it was just there. If someone got sick, it didn’t matter.”
For visitor Deborah Edwards. the idea alone was enough. “I can’t even imagine,” she said. “Just the thought of what they went through I feel …” Her thoughts trailed off.
Another section of the exhibit covers the history of disrespectful, stereotypical images of Black people — which were used to both dehumanize Blacks and sell products to Whites. “Stereotypes were used to sell merchandise,” said docent Ciara Seaman, pointing to an ashtray molded in the form a Black baby sitting on a toilet with its mouth open. “They would always portray us as dark with big, red lips, bulging eyes, big butts. They would make us look awful. … If you see here — above — it says ‘Colored Women,’ ‘White Ladies.’ Any time they could make a disrespectful subtlety, they would.”
Added: docent T. Bankole: “They made them appear to be less than human by creating characters. Any time you are trying to destroy a race, first thing you do is destroy their history, then you destroy their culture. Especially if you’re trying to keep someone in bondage because its all about power and identity. They created literature and propaganda that reinforced their logic that we were not human beings.”
Gladys Clark, who grew up in Oklahoma during the 1950s, looked at this — and other so-called “coon” images — with a vacant stare. She then turned to a reporter and reflected on her own struggles with racism. “When I look at a lot of this stuff I know a lot about it because they taught a lot of culture at my school and I saw a lot of these things,” she said. “It leaves me with a lot of mixed feelings. It’s overwhelming to a certain extent to know what our people went through and how we’ve come so far. Some of the racist things I see here, I was actually exposed to it.”
Coming up during segregation, Clark said she saw firsthand how Blacks were painted in a negative light in advertisements. She even witnessed her own mother going through the back door of markets to pick up groceries, as Whites breezed through the front.
“I used to look at my brown skin and say, ‘I don’t want to be this color. Why was I born this color?’” she said. “That’s the way they made you feel. We were suppressed by racism.”
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