On Wednesday, Mark, Mitch, Robin, and I went to the African Burial Ground, separately from the rest of the class because of our biology lecture exam at 3:40. We left right after our English class and arrived at the burial ground a bit before noon.
My first impressions of the burial ground and the museum were not that great. We decided to check out the museum first, and we all quickly got confused about where the entrance was. We started at the burial ground, but had to ask for help to find the entrance. Even after asking presumably a security guard, we still struggled to find the entrance, walking around the entire block before realizing the entrance was right on the other side of the block of the burial ground.
The bad first impressions only continued. Once we found the entrance, security guards asked for our IDs and said something super official like, “you are now entering a federal building.” This was how I knew this museum was unlike other ones I’ve been to. I thought that would be the end of the security protocol, but once we got inside the building, there was even more to be checked: the typical bag check, but we also had to take our shoes off. I didn’t know just finding and entering a building could take so long. Also, it only took Mark ten million years to put his shoes back on.
Finally, once we actually got past security, the first thing I saw was the wax figures underneath the quote “Some of those bones are my mother’s bones. Come to rise and shine…” The quote was pretty fitting for the display. The wax figures looked pretty real, and in my picture below, you might even mistake the person taking a picture on the left as a figure.
The next thing I went to look at was all the images of the bones. I found this display in the museum the creepiest and most chilling, since it does represent the deaths of all the African descendants after all. Human remains are not the prettiest things to look at. However, I still appreciate the message that the pictures were trying to convey.
I spent most of my time looking at the wax figures and the bones, but two other things I noticed were the wall of notes and the paintings/murals to the right of them. I like that the notes were there as a sort of interactive thing the museum was trying to do with the guests, but I didn’t know what to write, so I didn’t leave a note. The paintings/murals were the last thing I looked at in the museum, and I thought they were cute, but I didn’t really get a close look at them because we wanted to see the rest of the memorial.
I was extremely drawn to the heart-shaped West African Sankofa symbol that was on many of the structures in the museum and gift shop. It reminded me of the shape of a window frame back home. After reading the pamphlet from the memorial, I learned that it translates to “learn from the past to prepare for the future.” This is pretty fitting for the memorial because of all the African descendants buried there. I was disappointed that they didn’t have a Sankofa symbol key chain in the gift shop.
Overall, I found the whole museum pretty creepy, but with a lot of meaning. It was really quiet, not many people were in there, and the only sound I could really hear was the static from the electricity. It’s not really what I expected for a museum, especially because of such few people, but of course the security plays a part too. There were more people after we left, though – a whole line of people waiting to get in.
After leaving the museum, we made our way back to the burial ground. The burial ground was my favorite part of the memorial. I especially liked the map of the Atlantic that was on the ground and the symbols on the surrounding walls. I thought it was interesting that the symbols were carved into the wall rather than printed. This gave it a cooler feel because you can touch the inner parts of the symbol and trace your fingers along the sandy surface. Also, the Sankofa symbol made new appearances!
The last place we stopped at in the burial ground was the “tunnel.” It’s actually called the Ancestral Libation Center, as I learned from the pamphlet. This “tunnel” and the overall structure of the burial ground with the down-sloping path and surrounding walls reminded me of the Irish Hunger Memorial, which I visited last semester for seminar. The “tunnel” at the African Burial Ground was a lot smaller, but it still had the same echoing effects. Additionally, there were no symbols printed on the walls at the Irish Hunger Memorial, the walls there were much higher, and the walls were stone, not granite. I preferred the walls at the African Burial Ground because they appeared to have a deeper meaning with the symbols.
