On the 30th of March, at approximately 11:45 AM, our small group consisting of Mark Rayev, Mitch Vutrapongvatana, Sandy Mui, and myself found ourselves at the doors of the African Burial Ground Memorial Museum. The weather was surprisingly pleasant: temperatures fluctuated between 50 and 56 degrees, wind chill was little more than a gentle breeze, clouds were almost nonexistent, and rain did not fall. Situated between the streets Duane and Elk, the African Burial Ground is surrounded by architecture typical to that of Lower Manhattan. The environment is incredibly urban: skyscrapers line every inch of an individual’s periphery. To the right of the memorial ground, approximately 3-4 four blocks in distance from the ground, stood the New York State Supreme Court. The immediate area surrounding the memorial was initially free of walking traffic, but this changed during the latter portion of our field survey. The food carts surrounding the area dually served the senses of taste and smell. The differing smells of nut trucks, halal food carts, and hot dog stands associated, mitigating all other smells within both the area surrounding the African American Burial Ground National Monument and monument itself. These smells evoked a sense of hunger within me. Unfortunately, this hunger was already semi-satiated at the Burger King near Flatbush Avenue. The museum in and of itself was absent of smell. We come to the entrance of the museum and are informed that we about to enter a federal building. Our state IDs are checked and we undergo a brief security exam. Belts, shoes, and items held within our pockets are taken off and placed in a plastic bin. We go through a metal detector. The metal detector does not go off and we are allowed to put on and away everything that was taken off and taken away. A minor inconvenience but a necessary inconvenience.
The monument and the museum directly adjacent to it contained artifacts that proved to be treasure troves to the sense of sight. The museum itself is small, but the objects and ideals carried within said objects successfully illustrate the once forgotten histories of colonial African Americans to its patrons; despite the memorial’s success, these histories carry such emotional breadth that the allocation of these histories within one location may seem to be an unattainable feat to an individual who did not visit this memorial. I carried the latter sentiment prior to our trip.
The museum was unoccupied when we entered. When entering the main museum, my eyes fixed on a quote displayed above the middle area of the museum. The quote read, “Some of these bones are my mother’s bones. Come together to rise and shine…”. I found it difficult to make sense of this quote at first, but after a few moments of thinking I came to an interpretation. Prior to the discovery of this burial ground, the remains of these many individuals were unknown and seemingly lost in time. Following the discovery in May of 1991, these remains were brought to public light. With the unearthing of these physical remains came the unearthing of a forgotten heritage. Unnamed these bones are representative of the collective African New Yorker, not of the individual but of the group. Directly underneath this quote stood a wax set piece consisting of five individuals standing around a wooden coffin. This set piece was incredibly photorealistic; from a distance, I believed that these wax statues were real individuals, but after a minute or so of no movement I came to the realization that I was wrong. I believe that this piece was structured in such a way to evoke a sense of empathy within the viewer. The piece seems closer to reality with its intricate facial composition and human-like pose. I found the the lighting was done in a way to place emphasis on the individual faces of the figures. The event transcends time and allows the viewer to play a role in the “probable” funeral service. The set piece felt cold to the touch.
A few meters to the left of the entrance is a collage of bones, identified only by relative age and prospective gender. These individuals were buried in such a manner that future identification on a name basis was made impossible. Taking this and the fact that the African Burial ground was one of the first pieces of land that African American held land ownership of in New York, I find that the importance of the collective African New Yorker during the mid-1600s was held in higher regard than that of the individual African New Yorker. My gaze wanders to the opposite wall. Rows upon columns of colored index cards line a bulletin board on this wall. Countless index cards have quotes that claim that these African American colonists have not been forgotten. These index cards are more indicative of the mindsets of current New York residents than those of the 1600s. I come to the conclusion that praise and recognition are more readily given to colonial African Americans by current citizens of New York than by those in the 1600s due to our knowledge of higher degrees of unbiasedness and our amassed knowledge of the building processes of early New York: correspondingly, colonial African American’s laid both the physical and metaphorical groundwork necessary for the architectural evolution of New York from unkempt land to its current state.
Sound is almost nonexistent within the museum. Silence is blissful in that it initiates viewers, such as ourselves, to appreciate the exhibition in its entirety by allocating all attention to the senses of sight and touch. The most minutiae of noise were found in the static of certain displays throughout the museum: most notably the lightened photos of burial sites. We finish our visit to the museum portion of the African Burial Ground by exiting through the entrance.
Our group walks to the immediate right before making a right. We walk forward about 300 feet before coming before the physical burial ground of the African Burial ground. My gaze becomes transfixed on a large obelisk like structure with an engraved heart and the following quote;
“For all those who were lost
For all those who were stolen
For all who were left behind
For all those who were forgotten”
This quote showcases the need for the African Burial Ground within Manhattan. This site serves as a means of calling upon memories of those who were forgotten despite them not deserving to be forgotten in such a manner. By enacting this site, the forgotten is recalled. Like the material used to produce this obelisk, the contributions of colonial African Americans are made to stand permanently within the public mind. The glossy granite-like stone used to enact this obelisk is able to harsh even the toughest of degrading pressures. This quote and the symbol standing directly adjacent to it is engraved in such a way that its contents can weather time. The engraving is carved incredibly deep. By choosing to do this, these words will last longer than the stone itself. The carving is textured in a very uniform matter. I feel that the white carving forms small mountains underneath my fingers. I move my hand to the glossy granite. Once again, the texture is uniform but uniform in smoothness. I stroll along the spherical decline of the memorial and come to a black and grey map of the world. I wonder why this design choice may have been made. Perhaps this represents the wide geographical influence African Americans have had on the world and how these influences are a means of forming a collective history amongst peoples of different geographic makeup. I ascend the spiral staircase and look to the green surrounding the grey.
Field keepers tend to the lawn by meticulously placing large pond like rocks on the outside the perimeter of the monument. I believe that the ground undergoes constant maintenance in order to ensure that those buried are able to sleep soundly. Those buried had helped build New York; correspondingly, we offer them the courtesy of proper reverence by providing them with a site that reflects upon their contributions to us. The museum and the burial ground located directly adjacent to one another were beautiful honorariums to colonial African Americans and their histories. By visiting this site, I learned of histories that are seldom discussed despite their being of vast importance to the physical and ideological makeup of New York City.
