A day of contrasts

It’s the last day of Black History Month. And it was a day when we were immersed in Black history in very emotional ways. And just a note – end of Black History Month does not mean it’s time to stop talking about or studying Black history.

First stop – the new Freedom Monument Sculpture Park. You can see the Alabama River down the hill, you can see the trees starting to flower, you can hear the cardinals singing. It is a sharp contrast of what we see in the park.

This is designed to honor the lives of the 10 million people who were enslaved in this country. There are some 50 sculptures that take visitors from the presence of the indigenous tribes in the Montgomery and the richness of their culture through the inspiring stories of the people of Africa before the slave trade began, then through the life of the enslaved people in this county. That is not a pretty story. There is a solemnity as people walk through the park. More on all of this below.

Then we went to the National Memorial for Peace and Justice that makes vivid the lynchings that occurred between 1877 and 1950. Somber, for sure. But also, as we arrived, we could see the building housing the hanging concrete slabs through blossoming dogwood trees and then we turned to see statues of terrified enslaved people. More contrasts.

Strength and determination. Oppression and subjugation. A wall celebrating the names of the many enslaved people who lived in obscurity. An area set aside to honor Ida B. Wells who reported on the many lynchings of the time she lived. And a wall of gently falling water soothing the shattered spirits.

The Sculpture park is built along the river where enslaved people were brought to Montgomery for sale and on the other side is one of the railroad lines build by enslaved people in the 1800s so day by day, slaves could be packed into box cars and brought to Montgomery. 

In a reversal of the story, it was the “Underground Railroad” that helped enslaved people escape to freedom. That is represented by a stunning statue of Harriet Tubman outside the visitor center.

There are so many beautiful sculptures and distressing stories here. One that touched me deeply was a young girl clinging to her mother as they awaited the potential celebration that came with the slave auctions. 

And then there were the stories of resistance. There were many forms of resistance, but the words that caught my attention have relevance to our time as well: “The most radical form of resistance was survival and refusing to give away the capacity to love.”

At the end, we came to the National Monument to Freedom – the names of so many formerly enslaved people now celebrate on a huge wall with pillars that say “Perseverance. Hope, Strength and Faith” in front of the wall and a family looking at the wall. Visitors are invited to put carnations in the water at the base of the ball. 

This did not wash away all the pain we had witnessed as we walked through the garden. But it did offer a balm and became an act of honor and hope.

At the National Memorial, we walked below the more than 800 corten steel slabs hanging from the ceiling, one for each county where Black people were lynched – some 4,400 that have been documented so far. The closest ones to Madison were in Duluth, Minnesota in 1920. But many of them were from the states of the Confederacy that tried to re-establish white supremacy after the emancipation of the slaves.

As we drove toward Atlanta for the last two days on this trip, our group from Christ Presbyterian Church reflected on the images and the feelings of this day. And I held tight to the words on that National Monument to Freedom:

Kidnapped, Traffic, Enslaved, and Abused

Enduring the horrors and pain of slavery,
You still found the capacity to love,
to dream, to nurture new life, and to triumph.

We honor your strength.
We honor your perseverance in the midst of sorrow.
We honor your struggle for freedom.

Your children love you.
The country you build must honor you.
We acknowledge the tragedy of your enslavement.
We commit to advancing freedom in your name.