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Keisha N. Blain, ed., Ibram X. Kendi, ed.A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
In 1859, Douglass moved to Britain in part because of his association with John Brown. Brown’s attack on Harper’s Ferry threatened anyone close to him with guilt by association. Douglass had not been a fugitive since 1838, when he escaped to the North in pursuit of freedom. He eventually returned.
In the years before the Civil War, Douglass “became a prophet of a United States who embodied the courage of its convictions, a country that, as Douglass put it, ‘shall not brand the Declaration of Independence as a lie’” (226). He knew that the South would completely change after emancipation, but Douglass knew the North would have to change as well.
Abraham Lincoln approved the recruitment of Black soldiers, leading to the “abolition war” (227) Douglass had hoped for. Two of his sons enlisted. The Black regiments were seen as inferior and treated in ways that foreshadowed the postwar Jim Crow era. Douglass saw that the challenges during Reconstruction would be difficult to overcome, and the nation he envisioned could not exist until African Americans were accepted and treated equally.
Bouie writes that by 1864 “nearly 400,000 enslaved people had escaped to Union lines. They had won themselves freedom in the process” (230). Many of them would number among the 180,000 African Americans who would fight in the Civil War.
Lincoln originally pushed back against arming former slaves, but he realized that they would help win the war. By fighting, African Americans also helped shape the aftermath. They realized they were soldiers and political actors who would deserve a place in the Reconstruction discussions. Frederick Douglass said, “Once let the Black man get upon his person his brass letters, U.S.; let him get an eagle on his button, and a musket on his shoulder and bullets in his pocket, and there is no power on earth which can deny that he has earned the right to citizenship” (231).
After the war, Black veterans helped establish the Union Leagues, groups that worked to empower African Americans, build schools, and resist white politicians opposed to their cause.
Harriot describes the creation of the Jim Crow era as analogous to the origin story of a supervillain, and “[t]he hero of this drama is Black people” (234).
The Fifteenth Amendment passed on February 26, 1869, granting African American men the right to vote. Terror groups like the Ku Klux Klan sprang up immediately, starting a new war. In North Carolina, the KKK actually overthrew the government, removing Governor Holden for his perceived harsh treatment of Klan violence.
Harriot describes several horrific killings and massacres carried out by members of the KKK who were never punished. He returns to the idea of Black people as the hero of the story, writing, “The most marvelous, unbelievable thing about Black people in America is that they exist. Every imaginable monstrosity that evil can conjure has been inflicted on this population, yet they have not been extinguished. The hero remains” (238).
Journalist Ernest Ingersoll went to Atlanta in 1879 while researching an article for Harper’s Magazine. The dilapidated housing in the Black neighborhoods comprising Shermantown disturbed him. Housing recovery in Atlanta was slow and many had to make do with what they could piece together.
Despite these challenges, Hunter writes that Shermantown was a “vibrant settlement” and “a haven for newly freed people in search of life in the city that would enhance their autonomy and allow them to escape the strictures of bondage” (241).
The numbers of Black washerwomen impressed Ingersoll. Most of them took in washing work because it was a domestic task that didn’t require them to serve in someone else’s home. They could maintain their own labor schedule. In 1879, the washerwomen organized to standardize their pay.
Today, “African Americans are disproportionately confined to inferior, overpriced housing, live near hazardous waste sites, and even lack clean drinking water in places like Flint, Michigan, Ingersoll’s home state” (243). These challenges have not stopped them from pursuing their dreams and enriching their lives.
Darity gives the history of John Wayne Niles, the son of a white man and a Black woman. He was a swindler and entrepreneur who “proposed a territorial reparations program under the aegis of his all-Black indemnity Party” (244). He wanted 6,000 square miles of land for a Black settlement. He petitioned for the land in 1883 but disappeared in 1884. Darity details several of Niles’s schemes, from selling liquor without a license to financial fraud in corn futures. There are no records of the time or manner of his death.
Niles was persuasive and charismatic. Darity writes, “Niles’s personal history had given his opponents plenty of ammunition, but implementation of his core idea—provision of land grants for the formerly enslaved—would have forever altered the trajectory of America’s racial and economic history” (247).
Christopher J. Perry was the founder of the Philadelphia Tribune. On its launch day, November 28, 1884, “he had no way of knowing that it would become the longest-running independent Black newspaper in the nation” (249). It had Black authors and a Black audience.
Between 1870 and 1890, Philadelphia’s Black population doubled. Police began profiling Black people, certain that the increasing numbers would lead to greater crime. Coercion was common in this surveillance state, and beatings accompanied most arrests.
In 1885, Annie Cutler shot and killed William Knight, a man who had broken up with her. She shot him after they passed on the street and he ignored her. A jury found her guilty, and the judge sentenced her to hang. Gross writes that a white woman would have received a lighter sentence. After a public outcry and diligent work from her attorney, her sentence was commuted to eight years. The Tribune followed the process in great detail, meticulously documenting the nuances of the case and the implications of the verdict for Black readers.
Kelley visits Keith Plessy, a descendent of Homer Plessy, the plaintiff who challenged Louisiana’s racial segregation laws in the landmark supreme court case Plessy v. Ferguson. That ruling enshrined the doctrine known as “separate but equal,” which was used as a legal justification for segregation under Jim Crow.
Keith tells Kelley that a Google search for Homer Plessy does not return a real picture of him. He believes that most Americans don’t have the proper understanding of his ancestor’s case: “The U.S. Supreme Court case Plessy v. Ferguson served as the legal foundation for de jure racial segregation” (258). The doctrine of separate but equal would last for more than 50 years.
Kelley doubts the existence of a picture of Homer Plessy. In the 1890s, having a picture taken was an extravagant expense. It’s unlikely that the working-class Homer—he was a shoemaker—would have sat for a portrait.
Keith is a New Orleans activist who runs the Plessy and Ferguson Foundation, whose mission is to “increase public understanding of this historic case” (259). Homer Plessy deserves to have his story chronicled correctly so that people can draw the correct lessons from it.
Browne writes, “Black people will always find each other in the passage between death and America” (262). He uses the poem to describe the hardships America creates for its Black citizens and calls it a “country designed in an image of rot” (262).
After the Civil War ended slavery, many hoped that Black Americans would be positioned as citizens of greater influence in the aftermath. Frederick Douglass believed temporarily that fighting in the war would give African Americans a seat at the table. He thought: “Once let the Black man get upon his person his brass letters, U.S.; let him get an eagle on his button [...] and there is no power on earth which can deny that he has earned the right to citizenship” (231). Anything less would “brand the Declaration of Independence as a lie’” (226).
This is not what happened. Reconstruction led to the Jim Crow era. Black Americans were now free, but they were not welcome in much of their own country. Feimster’s essay on lynching presents a grim portrait of life for postwar African Americans.
The Jim Crow era and the consequence-free rampages of groups like the Ku Klux Klan are offered as support for the argument that the Declaration of Independence is a lie, just as Douglass had feared. White southerners could no longer enslave Black people, but they could paint them as savage animals in the hopes that Americans would come to believe that emancipation was a mistake. The specter of the uncontrollable Black rapist was one of their primary weapons and one of their most frequent justifications for lynching. The dehumanization of Black Americans continued, even though they were no longer treated as pure commodities.
The poetic image of the “country designed in a image of rot” (262) is a vivid analogy for the Jim Crow era. It proceeded logically out of a system built upon moral decay, as far as its treatment of African Americans.
Keith Plessy’s work to preserve the historical accuracy of Homer Plessy’s case is a reminder of the fallibility of memory and a callback to Lowery’s earlier remark that “banishment digests easier than recollection” (113). If history is written by the winners, accurately preserving Black history is necessary. Otherwise, the temptation for historians to treat slavery as the regrettable—but unavoidable—requirement for America’s construction grows too great.
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