The Black slaves of colonial America brought their own culture from Africa to the new land. Despite their persecution, the “slave culture” has contributed greatly to the development of America’s own music, dance, art, and clothing.
It is understandable that when Africans were torn from their homes and families, lashed into submission , and forced into lifelong slave labor, they would be, on the most part, resentful and angry. Various forms of expression, clandestine yet lucent, developed out of these feelings.
One such form was music. Native African music consisted mainly of wind and string melodies punctuated by hand clapping, xylophones, and drum beats. Along those lines, an early type of slave music was the spiritual, which has its roots in Protestant hymns taught to the slaves. Spirituals were “long thought to be the spontaneous creation of African-American slaves and the only original folk music of the U.S.” Spirituals told tales of suffering and struggle, but these true meanings were often hidden. An example is in the song “Gospel Train” with the lyrics, “Get on board, little children/There’s room for many a-more/The gospel train’s a-leavin’…” The “gospel train” of the song likely represented an escape method, such as the Underground Railroad.
Another type of music distinct to African slaves was gospel. These songs originated in plantation fields as work songs, and were later sung in churches of Black congregations. They were intended to enliven a crowd, and employed bright music and joyful lyrics. Gospel music contributed to the development of musical genres historically considered “white”, such as rock’n’roll and country and western.
Before Blacks came to America, they had their own highly developed religious beliefs. Most cultures believed in one almighty God, and the ideas of good and evil. They also practiced “ancestor worship”, believing that dead family members could influence aspects of their lives. A main difference between African and Christian religions, however, is that Africans did not find it necessary to convert all other cultures to their religion. Thus Africans were rather resistant to the preaching of Christian ministers when they came to America. The Christian ideas they did absorb, however, were indoctrinated into their lives with the addition of culture such as gospel music (see Music). Later, a minister of mainly of African-American congregations would use distinctly “Black” preaching methods, as when “he begins to employ numerous stock phrases and ideas,” and, “Midway in the message the preacher begins to chant his words rhythmically.”
17th-century Africans had art forms that would be considered advanced even today. Most of their expression was religious in nature. But when they were brought to the New World, “…[slaves] could not do this because Protestants had always frowned upon religious imagery in the church as being worldly. Thus, there was little opportunity for the slave to express his creativity in graphic and plastic art for the church as he had done in Africa where religion and art were inseparable. Moreover, the slave was afforded few opportunities to carve on his own or his master’s time.”
This repression of the slave’s creativity doubtlessly impeded the development of an African-American art standard. Although slaves could be trained in the practical arts, such as typesetting or furniture making , they could really not fully express themselves until released from the bonds of servitude.
Incidentally, there was an outpouring of African-American art after emancipation. This was a time when former slaves could finally put their creativity to use, and the results were a genre individual in itself, yet complimentary to American art as a whole. Blacks became sculptors, painters, block printers, actors, and architects. But it would be a long time yet before Black art could be fully appreciated, or even accepted as mainstream.
America’s earliest African-American scientists and inventors are largely unknown — their contributions to America buried in anonymity…While historians increasingly recognize that blacks had a significant impact on the design and construction of plantations and public buildings in the South and that rice farming in the Carolinas might not have been possible without Blacks, the individuals who spearheaded these accomplishments remain anonymous.
The previous excerpt from The African-American Almanac describes an all too-common situation in African-American history: the accomplishments of Blacks are claimed as those of whites, or not recognized at all. Some scientific discoveries, however, are duly attributed to famous African-Americans.
One such invention was the grain harvester, historically credited to Cyrus McCormick. Though, as new research tells us, “Jo Anderson, one of McCormick’s slaves, is believed to have played a major role in the creation of the McCormick harvester…” On the other hand, much more credit for invention was given to freed slaves, such as Henry Blair, the patent-holder for a seed planter, and Augustus Jackson, for the invention of ice cream.
The sad truth of the matter is, as with accomplishments in art, early inventions and scientific discoveries by Blacks were simply not heralded with interest. It was not until much later, after the slaves were freed, that Blacks would be respected as scientists. It may be that Africans had scientific methods native to Africa that they brought to the New World, but these were overlooked by supremacist slave-owners and gradually disappeared.
Of course, African slaves had their own language before they came to America. But what happened to this language when they were taken from their homeland and immersed in English-speaking society? As would be expected, they adapted to the English language retaining distinctly African subtleties.
The changes made to English by Black slaves are still seen today in the African-American vernacular. This altered language is sometimes referred to as “Black English,” and is said to be “spoken at times by as many as 80% to 90% of African-Americans.”
“Much in Black English that seems grammatically incorrect actually represents the consistent application of African structural principles.” In other words, phrases such as “ain’t” and “wasn’t” that are wrong in English would have made perfect sense in an African language.
Considering that they had to start as slaves and “work their way up”, the contributions of Black Americans are astounding. Their advancements in music, art, religion, language, and science have helped shape American culture as a whole.
Angel, Stephen W. The African-American Almanac, v.4. Harper Publishing, San Francisco, 1984.
Internet: The Black Experience @gopher://wiretap.spies.com
Microsoft Bookshelf Encyclopedia. Columbia University Press, Chicago, 1995.
Rampling, Anne. Exit To Eden. Dell Publishing, New York, 1989
World Book Encyclopedia. World Book Inc., Chicago, 1992.
Beyond the Written Document: Looking for Africa in African American Culture
Paulla A. Ebron
Associate Professor of Anthropology, Stanford University
National Humanities Center Fellow
©National Humanities Center
“Culture, this acted document. . . .” Clifford Geertz1
Historians have long revered and relied upon written documents to construct a narrative account of an event, a time, a people. They stand as authoritative evidence because they can be consulted, circulated, compared with, and corroborated by other written sources. Through mining textual evidence, historians invoke cultural worlds and open windows onto history. Yet how might one gain access to areas of the past where few documents exist? What if all the documents are written by—and from the perspective of—conquerors rather than by the people whose history you want to tell? Is it possible to use more eclectic forms of evidence? These are questions that historians confront when their use of documents is thwarted by the near absence of appropriate records.
Objects, landscapes, orally transmitted stories and songs can complement written records and bring different voices into historical narratives. A way into the void is to look for history by exploring many diverse kinds of objects and evidential forms, including but not limited to, written records. Things people make, landscapes they live in, stories and songs they pass on orally to later generations, even words they use—all of these can provide evidence of the worlds of the past. Despite the fragmented nature of such evidence and despite the bias of what has survived, we can use such materials along with written records to conjure the past. Culturally expressive forms—both cultural practices and material objects—can complement written records, offering perspectives lost in the records themselves. To use various forms of evidence moves our stories of the past from the words of those with control over the written word to larger spheres in which more kinds of people participated.
Cultural history goes across disciplines and beyond written documents to study objects, language, practices, relationships, etc.We often signal such larger spheres by speaking of culture. Literary scholar Raymond Williams explains, “Culture is ordinary.” Culture, Williams continues, is “a whole way of life.”2 This remarkably simple definition, through its breadth, provides a point of departure in our search for vestiges of the past. “Cultural history” has weaned historians from their dependence on the perspectives of the archive to expand what might count as historical evidence. In the search for cultures of the past, historians gather fragments of evidence—oral narratives, material objects, and traces of embodied practices that involve language, food cultivation, forest use, building, making, sacralizing, and forming relationships of all sorts. These shreds and shards extend what can be told about the past and enlarge the circle of historical subjects who we recognize as integral in making the past. A second step, however, is to work from these eclectic source materials to ask about the forms of coherence that might have tied these shreds and shards together. What social practices, meanings, and values are associated with the fragments we find today? Working across methods from anthropology and history, cultural historians have assembled the shards to explore the “whole way of life” of people in the past. This requires reconstructing the structure of social constraints and opportunities to consider how the “stuff” people left behind—whether documents or otherwise—was actually used.
To understand the lives of Africans brought to the Americas as slaves, we must go beyond written records.The puzzles and challenges of cultural history have been particularly evident to scholars committed to investigate the life worlds and perspectives of the Africans who were brought to the Americas against their will within the institution of slavery. Enslaved Africans had very little ability to keep their own written records. There are documents about them, but they do not reflect the perspectives of the enslaved, and the written documents often obscure and erase the very things that may have been most important in their lives—their relationships, their skills, their forms of knowledge, their hopes and dreams. Under slave society, slaveholders wrote enslaved Africans out of history, inscribing the emerging contributions of varied American regions into the archives as if Africans were virtually absent. The ambition of contemporary cultural historians is to write against this erasure, showing the historical contributions and perspectives of enslaved Africans.
The southeast coast of United States is a particularly exciting place for this task. Enslaved Africans were able to form large communities in the coastal southeast. European American settlers retreated from the malaria that spread from parasites brought from Africa. Although European American slaveholders owned the land and controlled its use, due to the absence of large communities of European Americans, Africans were in more important roles, as farm supervisors, landscape engineers, and community leaders than in other areas of the United States. The cultural worlds of slaves in this area, then, are particularly vivid and impressive. But documents cannot be our only source of evidence for understanding these worlds. We need many sources.
—A Woman Rice Planter (1914)
Elizabeth Waties Allston Pringle
Picture the floor of the First African Baptist Church in Savannah, Georgia. Small holes have been carved in its wide boards; together they form an intricate aesthetic pattern. It turns out that the pattern is a Congolese spiritual design. Contemporary church officials suggest that the floor’s design was created by enslaved parishioners. Perhaps the pattern was both a source of delight and a signal. Furthermore, the holes served more than aesthetic and communicative purposes. Escaped slaves, reportedly, were able to hide under the floor of the church; the holes allowed them air and light.
Similarly, what should we make of the following? At an excavation site in an old plantation house in Houston, Texas, archaeologists found what appeared to be a completely random collection of objects, a “seashell, beads, doll parts, chalk, bird skulls bottles and bird skulls, bottles, and bases of cast iron cooking pots” all found in a corner of a dwelling that once served as the quarters of an enslaved family.3 The archaeologists consulted studies from West Africa that revealed similar collections among ritual specialists of the Yoruba. The array was not random at all, but evidence of an active African ritual life! Such shards of evidence expand the collection of historical materials that contribute to a sense of the past. (For more on interpreting plantation artifacts, see the results of archaeological research at Ashland-Belle Helene Plantation in Louisiana.)
Standing on a marshy bank by the side of a water channel, at first there appears nothing but tall grass of little consequence. The view is picturesque, but is there something of history here? To geographer Judith Carney, experienced from her research among rice cultivators in The Gambia and Senegal, this site itself is a text from which we can see history being made.4 Carney looks out from the bank and sees the same, distinctive forms of rice cultivation and water management in the coastal regions of South Carolina and Georgia as she saw in West Africa. In Georgia and South Carolina, land was worked for over a century by enslaved Africans, who, Carney argues, brought with them their knowledge of rice cultivation. Their British American masters had little knowledge of how to grow rice; they depended on their slaves to transform the landscape to make rice cultivation possible. Africans used the knowledge they brought from Africa to dig irrigation canals, build dykes and water gates, and design drainage and salt-water exclusion. A number of features of the engineering are distinctively West African. The rice crop slaves of the “rice coast” made possible was so successful that South Carolina became, for a period, the most affluent region in the United States. Carney uses multiple forms of evidence to bring this story to life, moving back and forth between the evidence of material forms and the evidence of documents. Most distinctively, she reads the landscape itself to generate a sense of the past.
From A Woman Rice Planter,
Under slavery, social constraints and opportunities determined where African influences were inhibited and where they could flourish.Such differences among African American communities sparked a sharp debate in the twentieth century about the extent to which slaves were able to carry their African heritage to the New World. Some scholars claimed that the experience of slavery wiped out any significant influence of Africa; others argued that African retentions remained key to emerging African American communities. Anthropologists Sidney Mintz and Richard Price helped to resolve this issue by explaining that cultural historians should begin with attention to the social constraints and opportunities of slaves, as these varied in different regions, as a basis to consider just how “African” the cultural forms they adopted might be. Rather than merely collecting bits of African culture in the Americas, or, alternatively, denying that any influence exists, they showed how cultural historians might reconstruct the social worlds of enslaved Africans as a basis for considering their forms of cultural communication and commitment. As in creole languages, enslaved Africans did use their African heritage, but, Mintz and Price showed, they also formed something new, something American, in the process of negotiating their new lives. Elements of African heritage became the basis of emergent new African American cultures.6
As historians learn to use new forms of evidence, we also learn new ways to reconstruct the social and cultural worlds of the past. African Americans of the past speak to our times as we assemble not just the many forms of evidence they have left us but also their creative endeavors to forge new systems of sociality and meaning despite the terrors of slavery.
Guiding Student Activities and Discussion
(1) Reading clues: Students may want to become “detectives” gathering clues about the histories of their ancestors and neighbors.
First, you may want to discuss how historians have used fragmented clues to study the past. Consider the examples above. How did linguist Patricia Jones-Jackson look for clues in language? How did geographer Judith Carney use the landscape itself as a set of clues to understand the past? You might invite your students to interpret the landscape of Green Hill plantation in Virginia through the photos available in the National Humanities Center toolbox The Making of African American Identity, Vol. I: 1500-1865.
Second, you may want to propose student projects to try this themselves. Two models come to mind. You could bring some fragments of a past social world (photos, everyday tools, items of clothing, religious paraphernalia) into class and ask students to imagine what those fragments might mean. Alternatively, you might ask the students to gather some evidence themselves. Students might work in teams, each of which could focus on a particular social and cultural community from a particular period. Some of the students could collect objects that relate to this community. Some might also interview an elderly person from that community. Each student should keep a record of the process of discovery, a “field journal” detailing what clues were discovered, and, in the case of an interview, what the process of selecting the person, getting permission, and talking to the person was like. What issues came up in the process itself? How are they putting clues together? The team could organize a poster presenting the social world of that community, in the period of time they have chosen, and the clues they used to learn about it. Or the team might create a 5-minute i-movie to present the project.
(2) Learning to honor the cultural and regional diversity of the past: Africans were just one group to arrive in the United States without the opportunity to document their own histories. Consider other subaltern groups and what kinds of cultural artifacts might generate a sense of the importance of their cultures. Not all these groups are organized around ethnicity or race; one might consider the histories of children or refugees, for example. How might an historical account generated from non-written sources tell a story?
Students might use the case of African American culture in the southeast coast of the United States to discuss the role of U.S. cultural and regional diversity more generally. What specific conditions allowed the southeast coast to develop such a rich African heritage? How might Africans in other areas have contributed to regional cultures and histories? Students might consider their home area: What kinds of cultural heritage are gathered together there? What specific features of the history of their area shaped the form of the mix?
“The African Antecedents of Uncle Ben in U.S. Rice History” (2003) by Judith Carney will give you the opportunity to hook your students into this topic through the advertising icon “Uncle Ben,” whose smiling face may very well peer at them from their cupboard shelves. Carney’s essay, a distillation of the argument she makes in her book Black Rice, illustrates the significance of rice cultivation as a skill that traveled with enslaved people from Africa. The piece will bring nuance and complexity to what students generally learn about slavery.
The Birth of African American Culture (1992) by Sidney Mintz and Richard Price is a classic work on the topic of cultural retentions and continuity. It integrates the concept of culture into history and demonstrates how it is a dynamic force in the lives of African Americans and not merely something confined to museums.
You can illustrate points made by Mintz and Price by assigning your students essays from Sea Island Roots: African Presence in the Carolinas and Georgia (1991) edited by Mary Arnold Twining and Keith E. Baird. Written in an accessible style, this collection is valuable to general readers as well as scholars. It demonstrates how folkways and various cultural practices reinforce a sense of a group’ collective identity. Many of the essays raise important examples of things that people pull together as evidence of cultural transmission.
1 Clifford Geertz, "Thick Description," in Interpretation of Cultures (New York: Basic Books, 1977), 3-30.
2 Raymond Williams, Keywords, revised edition (New York: Oxford University Press, 1983), 87-93.
3 Patricia Samford, "The Archaeology of African-American Slavery and Material Culture," William and Mary Quarterly, 53.1 (1996): 87-114.
4 Judith A. Carney, Black Rice: The African Origins of Rice Cultivation in the Americas (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2002).
5 Patricia Jones-Jackson, When Roots Die: Endangered Traditions on the Sea Islands Athens (GA: University of Georgia Press, 1987).
6 Sidney W. Mintz and Richard Price, Birth of African American Culture: An Anthropological Perspective (Boston: Beacon Press, 1992 ).
Paulla A. Ebron, a Fellow of the National Humanities Center, is an associate professor of anthropology at Stanford University. Her research explores relationships between African and African American cultures. She is the author of Performing Africa, a work based on her research in The Gambia that traces the significance of West African praise-singers in transnational encounters. She is currently studying tropicality and regionalism as they link West Africa and the U.S. Georgia Sea Islands in a dialogue about landscape, memory, and political uplift.
Address comments or questions to Professor Ebron through TeacherServe “Comments and Questions.”
To cite this essay:
Ebron, Paulla A. “Beyond the Written Document: Looking for Africa in African American Culture.” Freedom’s Story, TeacherServe©. National Humanities Center. DATE YOU ACCESSED ESSAY. <http://nationalhumanitiescenter.org/tserve/freedom/1609-1865/essays/aaculture.htm>