NY State Network to Freedom: Harriet Tubman in St. Catharines, Ontario

Click on the image below to activate the slide show.

After leaving Schenectady, I traveled to Kingston, Ontario, for the weekend. On Sunday, I drove around Lake Ontario to St. Catharines. From 1851 to 1858, Harriet Tubman lived in St. Catharines and attended the Salem Chapel, British Methodist Episcopal Church (founded in 1855). The Salem Chapel was the first all-black church in the town. The City of St. Catharines now has two monuments to Tubman: one in the garden of the Salem Chapel; the other in the courtyard of the Harriet Tubman Public School. Canadian artist Frank Rekrut created both monuments: the portrait bust for Salem Chapel in 2010, the figure of a seated Tubman for the school in 2016.


Rekrut sourced his depiction from nineteenth-century photographs of Tubman. For the portrait bust, he turned to a well-known image of Tubman at mid-age by H. Seymour Squyer (National Portrait Gallery). Photographed against a light wall with pattern, Tubman looks directly into the camera. Her gaze is direct and strong. Wearing a checkered head wrap, a black dress, and black woven shawl, Tubman stands with her hands resting on her stomach. Squyer portrays a woman of strength and character.


Set in a meditation garden with white hydrangeas, the portrait bust at Salem Chapel sits atop a black granite plinth. Rekrut captures the same seriousness that we see in Squyer’s carte-de-visite. Etched in the granite are the following words: “Harriet Tubman. After the passing of the USA 1850 Fugitive Slave Law, she said ‘I wouldn’t trust Uncle Sam with my people no longer. I brought them all clear off to Canada.’” I appreciated the location of the memorial. A contemplative space with benches, visitors are encouraged to pause, to sit down, to view the memorial and garden, and to think about Tubman’s legacy. Despite the church’s location on a busy street, the garden was a quiet space for reflection.


For the statue at Harriet Tubman Public School, Rekrut favored an image of Tubman by W. H. Ernsberger from around 1900 (Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture.) Aged 78 in the photo, Tubman is shown in three-quarters, turned at a slight angle to the picture plan. Staring directly at the camera, she sits in a wood armchair with her elbows resting on the arms and her hands crossed in her lap. Tubman wears a head wrap tucked behind her ears, a white linen scarf tied at the neck, a woven shawl, and a long, dark skirt.


Rekrut modeled a close likeness to Ernsberger’s photograph in a black bronze. Despite her own illiteracy, Tubman holds a book in both hands, a reminder to teachers and children of the importance of reading and learning. The sculpture is placed on a six-pointed star, and gold and silver stars with donor names decorate the string course that surrounds the statue.

Click on the image below to activate the slide show.

Watch the video below to learn about Frank Rekrut’s working method and a description of the casting process.

NY State Network to Freedom: William Seward and Harriet Tubman Statue, Schenectady

On Friday morning, September 27, I continued my trip from Albany to Troy and Schenectady. I was particularly interested in seeing the recently installed William Seward and Harriet Tubman Statue, Historic Vale Cemetery, and the African-African Ancestral Burial Ground within the cemetery. Later in the afternoon, I headed to Kingston, Ontario. From Kingston, I drove the perimeter of Lake Ontario on the Canada side, arriving in St. Catharines on Sunday late afternoon (Toronto, you hands down win the award for the worst traffic. Wow. You make Interstate 10/405 in Los Angeles look like baby’s play!)


City officials dedicated the William Seward and Harriet Tubman Statue on May 17, 2019, at the corner of Clinton and Liberty Streets in downtown Schenectady. Frank Wicks, an emeritus mechanical engineering professor at Union College, initiated the fundraising efforts to create the monument. Local artist, Dexter Benedict, was commissioned to create the life-size figures in bronze standing on Mohawk Valley dolostone surrounded by native plants.


The monument honors the friendship between the two. Seward (1801-1872) was a New York State Senator, Governor of New York, a United States Senator, and served as Secretary of State under both the Abraham Lincoln and Andrew Johnson administrations. He is credited with spearheading the purchase of the Alaskan Territory from Russia in 1867. Tubman (1822-1913) is best known for her role as a conductor on the Underground Railroad; she made thirteen trips to the Eastern Shore of Maryland and brought approximately seventy people (family and friends) to freedom in St. Catharines, Canada West (Ontario). During the American Civil War, Tubman served as a Union spy, scout, and nurse. After the war, she played an important role fighting for black equality and women’s suffrage.


Both Tubman and Seward had ties to Schenectady. Tubman is known to have come through Schenectady after the famed Charles Nalle Rescue in Troy. Seward attended Union College and graduated from the school in 1820. Besides this connection to Schenectady, Tubman and the Sewards had a relationship based in their mutual fight against slavery. During the 1850s, Seward’s home in Auburn, NY, served as an important stop on the Underground Railroad with Seward’s wife, Frances (1839-1865), actively engaged in the abolitionist network and hiding freedom seekers in her basement. In 1859, Tubman purchased a seven acre farmstead in Auburn from the Sewards, where she was based until her death in 1913. The relationship between them lasted until Frances’s and then William’s death. During the Civil War, Frances provided shelter to Tubman’s niece (perhaps daughter), Margaret Stewart. Immediately after the war, William advocated that Tubman should receive a government pension for her service as a scout and nurse in the U.S. Army.


Placed in front of the Schenectady County Public Library, the statue shows Seward and Tubman striding forward with Seward holding a cane and Tubman carrying a long walking stick. Both are dressed in nineteenth-century clothing, with their faces and poses based on historic photographs. Perhaps the oddest element of the statue is the embrace. Seward reaches his left arm around Tubman’s bronze back but does not touch her. Depicted with her right hand gesticulating upward, Tubman appears to be striding away from Seward. Although not intended by the artist nor those who commissioned the statue, I can’t help but read the gesture as one of paternalism: the white male savior guiding the black woman along the correct path. I’ll have to think about this more deeply but for now I see an incongruity between the statesman and the diminutive freedom fighter.


While I was standing in front of the monument, an African American couple in their early twenties came by to take photos. The young man pointed out the revolver to me and delivered an accurate history of Tubman’s work on the Underground Railroad. I say accurate because I often meet people at monuments who tell me fantastical things about them. The young man told me her gun made her “radical.” Indeed, it did. For visitors to the statue, it is a reminder that Tubman was tough. Its presence reminds us that she carried a fire arm to protect those she led to freedom and in her role as a scout during the Civil War.


For a discussion about the William Seward and Harriet Tubman Statue and the dedication ceremony, select the video below: “Wade in the Water: Unveiling of the Harriet Tubman - William Seward Statue.”

NY State Network to Freedom: Stephen and Harriet Myers Residence, Albany

So my plans to write weekly have gone a bit awry in September with a home remodeling project that expanded. I’m back and now on the road for a week in upstate New York, following parts of the New York State Network to Freedom—Underground Railroad. This trip was precipitated by a visit to see my good friend, Jennifer Strychasz, in Kingston, Ontario, and an invitation to speak at Colgate University in Hamilton, New York, on October 2. I continue to obsess over Harriet Tubman and her remarkable efforts to lead family and friends from the Eastern Shore of Maryland to upstate New York then onto St. Catharines, Ontario. I am amazed that she traveled nearly 800 miles by foot, boat, wagon, and train. A truly astonishing feat! I truly can’t complain from the confines of my air-conditioned car.


On Thursday evening, September 26, I arrived in Albany and had the opportunity for a tour of the Stephen and Harriet Myers Residence. The co-founders, Paul and Mary Liz Stewart, have done a remarkable job of spearheading the effort to restore the house and have run public programs from the house for twenty years including teen summer art programs. For me, their efforts exemplify community and civic engagement at its best. They are dedicated to making history meaningful in the present, and bringing it forward for school-aged youth. The Stewarts also manage the Underground Railroad History Project, another means by which they bring the history the Underground Railroad in upstate New York to the public.

Stephen and Harriet Meyers were prominent leaders of the Underground Railroad in Albany during the 1850s. Harriet Tubman came through their home on her travels through the state, and received invaluable assistance from them. Through the interior of the house, the Stewarts promote not only the telling of the life histories of the Meyers but the walls are lined with murals created by local teenagers that connect the past to the present. On two lots adjacent to the property, students created two gardens in honor of members of the community: Stephen Nelson Foster and Dr. Thomas Elkins.. After my visit, I am reminded that it is often dedicated individuals in local communities who insist that difficult histories should not be forgotten and should be included in the larger narrative of state and national histories.

Stay tuned as I blog about monuments and sites in Schenectady, Lewiston, Rochester, and Auburn as well as St. Catharines, Ontario.

Slavery and Montpelier: Part II

We have seen the Mere Distinction of Colour made in the most enlightened period of time, a ground of the most oppressive dominion ever exercised by man over man.”

James Madison wrote these words in 1787, acknowledging that phenotype had allowed men of European descent to enslave Africans in an economic regime of subjugation and terror. This quotation is the fulcrum of the interactive exhibition “The Mere Distinction of Colour.”

Brick mosaic of young enslaved boy constructed out of brick pieces excavated from the South Yard. Some of the shards contained fingerprints of the brick makers. Created by Proun Design, The Montpelier Foundation. Photo by Renée Ater, August 2019.

Archaeology is an important tool for retrieving “the hidden lives” of those enslaved at Montpelier, according to Kat Imhoff, President and CEO of the Montpelier Foundation. Montpelier received a four-year grant (2010-2014) from the National Endowment of the Humanities to excavate, analyze, and interpret slave housing at Montpelier. Much of the interpretation in this exhibition is tied to this archaeological work.

Select the video below to watch the story of the excavations of the slave quarters at Montpelier.

Archaeology and Slavery: Slave Quarters Excavation at James Madison’s Montpelier. NEHgov, published October 21, 2013.

The interactive exhibition is located in the South Yard (see blog post: Slavery and Montpelier, Part I) and the South and North Cellars of James and Dolly Madison’s home. The cellars were used for storage and acted as an important social space called a “servants hall.” Emotionally powerful, the exhibition traces two narrative arcs in the cellars: “The Montpelier Story of Slavery as Told by Living Descendants” and “The National Story of Slavery & the Economic Impact of the Institution.” We entered through the South Cellar, and encountered whitewashed walls with the names of slaves stenciled on the wall at chest level. This unsettling site of the names running around the course of the room—particularly the stenciled “Name Unknown”—provoked me to think of the countless times these men and women entered these spaces to serve the Madisons, yet they were not acknowledged or recorded as existing in any significant way.

Names listed on wall in South Cellar, Montpelier. Photo by Renée Ater, August 2019.

The South Cellar focuses intently on the lives of the slaves at Montpelier. With clear and thoughtful language, all of the exhibition texts reminds visitors of the humanity of individuals. Yet, much of this content is not cogently translated into the house, where there is a mention of Paul Jennings, but no indication that slave labor constructed the house and that such labor was necessary for the day-to-day functioning of the house. Nothing functioned at Montpelier without slave labor. In fact, some visitors could avoid the issue of slavery at Montpelier completely by solely attending the “Signature Tour” or the “Madison and the Constitution Tour.” In the South Cellar, I observed one older white couple read the introductory label then exit quickly. I was reminded of the July Twitter storm and subsequent press coverage about a white woman who conveyed her extreme disappointment that the tour of a Louisiana plantation included a discussion of slavery. Some want narratives that avoid the harsh realities of chattel slavery, and stories that ignore slavery’s intertwined role in the founding of the nation. Montpelier would like visitors to wrestle with this legacy in real ways.

Click on the image below to activate the slide show.

The declarative sentences on large hanging text panels assert the subjective life of enslaved persons. A particularly moving example framed the experience of a female slave:

I was a wife

I was separated

I was raped

I was afraid

I was hopeful

I was a survivor

I was property.

Although I came away with the notion of Madison as a “benevolent” slave owner after the house tour, these simple declarative sentences reminded me that there is zero benevolence in chattel slavery. These statements are part of a narrative in the South Cellar that points to the ugliness of slavery and the beauty of human resistance.

“Person or Property,” from The Mere Distinction of Colour exhibition, Montpelier. Photo by Renée Ater, August 2019.

In the final section of the South Cellar, visitors encounter a evocative video installation, “Fate in the Balance,” projected on the blank white washed walls of the cellar. Northern Light Productions, the makers of the film, used charcoal illustrated animation to tell the story of Ellen Stewart, who was born into slavery at Montpelier, and witnessed the separation of her family. It is a powerful tale of the destructive nature of slavery. As I watched the film, I found myself experiencing a range of emotions from sadness to horror to anger. The evocative use of charcoal haunts the South Cellar wall, the ghosts of the past ever present, their stories waiting to be told and retold.

Select the video below to watch a short segment of “Fate in the Balance.”

The North Cellar contains the story of slavery writ large, “The National Story of Slavery & the Economic Impact of the Institution.” This story is told through the idea of “America’s contradiction,” rather than moral or ethical hypocrisy. With detailed interactive panels, we learn of the economics of slavery, slavery and the American presidency, Madison’s opinions about and actions in regard to slavery, and slavery in the Constitution. I was impressed with the comprehensive yet straightforward texts panels. One of the most striking videos in the North Cellar exhibit uses an interactive map to show the growth of the domestic slave trade from the three top slave-selling states: Virginia, South Carolina, and Maryland. After the United States officially abolished the transatlantic slave trade in 1807, plantation owners sought new ways to sell and make profit off human beings. In measurable form, the interactive map details the movement of slaves to the Deep South; between 1824-1834, slave owners had sold nearly 300,000 slaves in the domestic slave trade, 25% of them children. This simple map with each dot representing a 1,000 people is a stunning visualization of the growth slavery in the United States.

Select the link to the interactive map or go directly to Proun Design for access to video.

“Slavery in the Constitution,” from The Mere Distinction of Colour exhibition, Montpelier. Photo by Renée Ater, August 2019.

The North Cellar exhibition ends on a powerful note with Northern Lights Production’s five-screen video, “Legacies of Slavery.” The film follows the impact of slavery on American society, tracing an arc from convict leasing to the Civil Rights Movement to contemporary police brutality and the rise the Black Lives Matter movement. At the beginning of the film, I was struck by one commentator’s remarks about our resistance to the messiness of history: “What we love is nostalgia. We love to remember things exactly the way they didn’t happen. And history itself is often an indictment.”

Select the video above to watch Chris Denemayer of Proun Design discuss his exhibition design “The Mere Distinction of Colour.”

Slavery and Montpelier: Part I

Recently, I had a discussion with a colleague about the problem of interpreting slavery at historic plantations in Virginia. We spoke specifically about Mount Vernon (George Washington), Gunston Hall (George Mason), Montpelier (James Madison), and Monticello (Thomas Jefferson). I was fascinated with her take that the curators and historians at these historic plantations still needed to expand and integrate slavery into the historic house tours. In her eyes, these institutions still had not done enough to interpret slavery as present in every aspect of daily life on the plantation, including the interior spaces of the main house.

Curious about Montpelier and its story of the enslaved community, I decided a visit was in order. I turned to Montpelier’s website to get a sense of its mission. The website states explicitly that the house museum is

A memorial to James Madison and the Enslaved Community, a museum of American history, and a center for constitutional education that engages the public with the enduring legacy of Madison's most powerful idea: government by the people.”

This language surprised me and made me wonder what visitors thought about this declaration, and what they expected on the tours.

Montpelier, Montpelier Station, Virginia. Photo by Renée Ater, August 2019.

With my friend Yui Suzuki accompanying me, we arrived on site at 10:30 am. Since we had an hour to explore before the tour, we decided to begin with a walk to the slave cemetery. Located some distance from the main house, the slave cemetery is a field of periwinkle, grasses, and trees with no boundary walls or headstones. Although not visible under the greenery, forty depressions indicate former graves of the enslaved. According to the tour guide, archaeologists note that the depressions are a result of sinking coffins and soil settling; the historic cemetery has not been restored. Montpelier has conducted archaeological work with remote sensing and cadaver dogs to determine that bodies are indeed buried at the location, and are in discussions about next steps. I must admit that I was disappointed at the lack of extensive archaeological work at the site as such excavations are happening elsewhere at Montpelier. I imagine the Montpelier Foundation must have well-considered plans for future excavation at the Slave Cemetery similar to the archaeology programs at the Alexandria’s Contraband and Freedmen Cemetery Memorial and the Slave Cemetery at Mount Vernon.

Click on the image below to activate the slide show.

Due to our arrival time, we decided to take the hour-long “Montpelier Enslaved Community” walking tour first, which is offered only two times a day at 11:30 am and 3:00 pm. The walking tour began with an overview of the history and then wound its way through the South Yard, adjacent to the house. After the walking tour, we participated in the the traditional hour-long “Signature Tour,” which is offered on the hour and is a room-by-room biographical tale of James and Dolly Madison. Finally we explored “The Mere Distinction of Colour” exhibition in the cellars of the Madison home. By taking the enslaved community tour first, my understanding of the house significantly changed. The guide focused specifically on the role of slavery in all aspects of the plantation during the 17th and 18th centuries. In addition, she narrated the lives of several enslaved persons laboring at Montpelier. Where as the “Montpelier Enslaved Community” guide was direct in discussing the role of slavery at Montpelier and the fundamental contradictions of James Madison as a founding father and slave owner, the “Signature Tour” guide focused mostly on the biographies of the Madisons with a mention of their manservant, Paul Jennings..

South Yard, Montpelier. Photo by Renée Ater, August 2019.

The reconstructed, pristine white South Yard is where the enslaved at Montpelier lived and worked. The South Yard includes two double homes, a kitchen, and a smokehouse. The buildings have been rebuilt based on archaeology and insurance maps from the time. The interpretation of the South Yard—the slave quarters and work buildings—is excellent and offers the unique perspective of the descendants of the enslaved at Montpelier. Objects, photographs, and audio all give visitors a sustained sense of individuals who labored, loved, bore children, worshiped, engaged each other as community, and resisted in small and big ways the horrific system of chattel slavery. The exhibition designers included objects on wooden tables in each slave quarter, encouraging visitors to pick them up and handle.

Click on the image below to activate the slide show.

Interview with Leontyne Peck, member of the Montpelier Descendants Community. PBS NewsHour, August 9, 2017.

Each building includes a window with the glass etched with the ghost-like forms of laboring black women. In rethinking the interpretation of slavery at the site, Montpelier staff decided to include the voices of the descendants with audio recordings in each slave quarter.

Etched Window in Slave Quarter, South Yard, Montpelier. Created by Proun Design, The Montpelier Foundation. Photo by Renée Ater, August 2019.

Photo Montage of portraits by Eduardo Montes-Bradley produced for The Mere Distinction of Colour, an exhibit at James Madison's Montpelier. Orange, Virginia. See https://vimeo.com/233047674.

The incorporation of the enslaved descendant voices is deeply affective. James Madison enslaved Rebecca Gilmore Coleman’s great-grandfather at Montpelier, and his descendants still live in the surrounding area. Listening to descendant voices such as Coleman’s, I came away with a sense of the pride that they felt about their ancestry, the deep commitment to their family histories, and the active role they play as stakeholders in the historical storytelling at the site.

“The Taylors,” Slave Quarter, South Yard, Montpelier. Created by Proun Design, The Montpelier Foundation. Photo by Renée Ater, August 2019.

Overall, the story of slavery at Montpelier is a powerful one and fully integrated throughout the site. My criticism lays with the consistent use of “contradiction” versus “hypocrisy” in describing James Madison’s attitudes towards democracy and slavery. Our tour guide told us not to judge Madison by the standards of our time because he was a “man of his time.” I disagree. Madison seemed fully aware that he held irreconcilable beliefs on freedom and slavery. He and the other founders created a republican form of government intertwined with the subjugation and enslavement of Africans. Even as we recognize their intellectual contributions to the nation, we cannot ignore their profound moral and ethical hypocrisy in maintaining chattel slavery for economic benefit.

Thirteen of the first eighteen presidents were slave holders. The backlit portraits indicate slave owning presidents. This graphic is from “The Mere Distinction of Colour” exhibition in the cellar of the Montpelier. Created by Proun Design, The Montpelier Foundation. Photo by Renée Ater, August 2019.

StoryMapJS: Regional Monuments to Slavery

I created this StoryMapJS for a lecture for the Smithsonian Associates in February 2019. The story map traces monuments in Maryland, District of Columbia, and Virginia. To take the tour: use the arrow on the story map, or click the arrow next to the blog title to go directly to a full screen version of the story map.

Created using the open source tool StoryMapJS, Knight Lab, Northwestern University, https://storymap.knightlab.com/.

StoryMapJS of Harriet Tubman Monuments

In honor of the 106th anniversary of Harriet Tubman’s death on March 10, 1913, I created this story map of monuments dedicated to Harriet Tubman. To take the tour: use the red “take the tour” button, navigate using the arrow on the story map, or click the arrow next to the blog title to go directly to a full screen version of the story map.

Created using the open source tool StoryMapJS, Knight Lab, Northwestern University, https://storymap.knightlab.com/.

TimelineJS of Harriet Tubman Monuments

It's International Women's Day (March 8, 2019). Check out my timeline of Harriet Tubman monuments in the United States. To navigate use the arrow on the timeline, or click the arrow next to the blog title to go directly to a full screen version of the timeline.

Created using the open source tool TimelineJS, Knight Lab, Northwestern University, https://timeline.knightlab.com/.

The Power of Remembrance: EJI National Memorial for Peace and Justice

Under the rain soaked skies, I visited EJI National Memorial for Peace and Justice in Montgomery, Alabama.


As I walked up the gently sloped landscape, I found myself in a somber, funeral place of difficult history, of mourning and grief, and of powerful remembrance and reflection.


I am surprised at the strength of my emotion when I enter the memorial space. I cannot stop the tears from flowing and my heart aching. I am overwhelmed. The hanging rusted steel steles are a gut-wrenching reminder of black bodies hanging from trees. On each stele, I see the names of individuals and the dates of their murders. They represent the 4,000+ real human beings lynched systematically and with impunity by white citizens of the United States. I reach out to touch a name, tracing the laser-cut forms of the letters in an attempt to make tangible their presence. I lean into one of the stele seeking bodily connection. And I feel a sadness and anguish so powerful that it lashes deep into my psyche. Intellectually, I am surprised at my response. Yet, the emotional upheaval I feel is real and powerful: I am witness to what had been an unspoken and hidden holocaust of black men and women in the United States, and is now made visible


On this morning, it is hushed inside, voices muted and rain flowing like small streams off the roof. Around me, people search for the names of family members and distant relatives on the hanging tombstones, talking quietly to each other about their own personal histories of racial terror and violence.

I, too, search for a name: Mary Turner, Brooks County, Georgia, May 19, 1918.

While writing my dissertation on the sculpture of Meta Warrick Fuller in the late 1990s, I researched Mary Turner's lynching because Fuller created a small painted plaster to honor her memory. It is an ugly story, reported by the fearless and indomitable Walter F. White (then Assistant Secretary of the NAACP) in the pages of The Crisis magazine on September 18, 1918:

"At the time she was lynched, Mary Turner was in her eighth month of pregnancy. The delicate state of her health, one month or less previous to delivery, may be imagined, but this fact had no effect on the tender feelings of the mob. Her ankles were tied together and she was hung to the tree, head downward. Gasoline and oil from the automobiles were thrown on her clothing and while she writhed in agony and the mob howled in glee, a match was applied and her clothes burned from her person. When this had been done and while she was yet alive, a knife, evidently one such as is used in splitting hogs, was taken and the woman's abdomen was cut open, the unborn babe falling from her womb to the ground. The infant, prematurely born, gave two feeble cries and then its head was crushed by a member of the mob with his heel. Hundreds of bullets were then fired into the body of the woman, now mercifully dead, and the work was over."

How could white Americans participate in such heinous acts, bringing children and picnics as if attending sporting events? How is that we have allowed ourselves as a nation to deny this horrible legacy of white supremacy?

Meta Warrick Fuller,  Mary Turner: A Silent Protest Against Mob Violence,  1919, painted plaster. Museum of African American History, Boston, Massachusetts.

Meta Warrick Fuller, Mary Turner: A Silent Protest Against Mob Violence, 1919, painted plaster. Museum of African American History, Boston, Massachusetts.

As I exit the memorial, I come upon poet Elizabeth Alexander's Invocation and I am reminded that this history of terror will no longer be forgotten. It is anchored now in steel and concrete, water and earth, trees and sky.