Diversity, Equity, And Inclusion: Erasing Black History
Mr. Speaker, I am a proud Virginian. Virginia is the birthplace of American democracy. It is also the birthplace of American slavery. From the beginning of this country, we have been on the right side of history and the wrong side of…
Mr. Speaker, I am a proud Virginian.
Virginia is the birthplace of American democracy. It is also the birthplace of American slavery.
From the beginning of this country, we have been on the right side of history and the wrong side of history. I am proud to stand here as a history maker in my own right, elected in 2023 as the first African- American woman to represent the Commonwealth of Virginia.
How did I get here? My interest in government was sparked by a love of history. My love of history was sparked by my parents.
My father, who was born in 1925 in Nashville, Tennessee, spent his summers in Alabama at a school that his grandfather, my great- grandfather, founded because Tennessee did not think Black children were worthy of a high-quality public education.
I am the daughter of Lois McClellan, born in the Gulf Coast of Mississippi in 1932, who had to leave her town to become the first member of her family to go beyond the eighth grade because the State of Mississippi did not deem Black children worthy of a quality public education. The Catholic church did, but only to the eighth grade.
Listening to my parents' stories as a child, they saw the best of government through the New Deal. They saw the worst of government through Jim Crow. Yet, it wasn't just what I learned in a textbook because their stories--my grandparents' stories and my great- grandparents' stories--weren't in the Virginia textbooks. I learned them at my parents' feet. I learned them because my great-grandfather happened to write a book about his experiences.
This history helped me to understand how this country was actually founded. By going to historic sites, the names and dates came alive, but my family's history wasn't told. When I would go to Monticello, I was fascinated by the idea written by Thomas Jefferson that `` . . . all men are created equal and endowed by their creator with certain unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.''
Yet, I learned nothing about the hundreds of Black people, including the mother of his children, who lived at Monticello and served him but weren't free. I didn't learn those stories while visiting Monticello. I learned them later as an adult.
My study of history has shown that, in Virginia, this beautiful idea of a government derived from the people, rather than divine right through kings, was created in Virginia, the first representative democracy in the Western Hemisphere, less than an hour away from where I live, in Jamestown. Yet, those settlers came on a business venture to take land that was already settled by Algonquian-speaking people for over centuries, and that land was exploited to make money for the crown of England.
Yet, they created a government in July 1619. A month later, the first recorded Africans were brought to our shores at Point Comfort, who were stolen from their home in Angola, stolen again from a slave ship by pirates, and traded to those settlers for goods and victuals. Their names weren't even recorded. They were listed as 20-some-odd Africans. That is how this country was founded. It is uncomfortable, but it is true.
I will spare you the full 400-year history, but there is a pattern to it. History may not repeat itself, but it rhymes. The history of our country has been: How do we reconcile the ideal upon which we were founded by the reality upon which we were founded? How do we reconcile that every time we make progress toward that ideal--and we have made progress. I wouldn't be standing here today in a body that was not built for people like me but may have been built by people like me. We have made progress, but every time we make progress, there is a backlash. That backlash has included three things: propaganda, violence, and voter suppression.
My great-grandfather experienced the first backlash. Born on a plantation in Alabama, he got the right to vote after he took a literacy test and after he had to answer two sets of questions because he was on a list of people not to register because he was a teacher teaching other Black people in his community how to get a better life.
He experienced the terror of lynchings, being afraid that if you looked at someone the wrong way, you could be hung. If you disrespected someone, you could be shot by a mob that was never brought to justice. That was the backlash that came in response to Reconstruction, which was never fully taught in my history books. We went from the end of the Civil War to the civil rights movement.
The second wave of progress and in response to that progress was the backlash of our leaders being assassinated. I heard these stories from my parents and my grandparents, but they are not here anymore. My father passed away over a decade ago. My mother passed away last year. As more and more people who lived under the terror of Jim Crow are moving on from this mortal plane, it is important we keep that history alive.
Not all of them shared that history because it was painful and it was uncomfortable. They didn't like talking about it and many of them did, but their stories are fading. That is why our museums and history and books that can continue this legacy on are important because I can't quite explain to my now 10 and 15-year-old children in quite the same eloquence that my parents did. I can't explain what they went through the same way. When they were here for spring break earlier this year, we went to the African American History Museum. Watching that history come alive through my children again, I felt my parents with me. I felt my grandparents with me. I felt my great-grandparents with me.
As I stood in the exhibit on the Middle Passage thinking about what somebody in my family lived through so that I could be here in this moment and fight this latest backlash to erase our history, somebody survived being chained in the bottom of a slave ship with hundreds of other people from Africa to Virginia, but I don't know who they are. I don't know who their children are. I don't know who their grandchildren are. In my father's family, we can only trace back to his grandparents because before that, no one deemed it important to write down the names of the people they enslaved.
That is why not only is this personal for members of the Congressional Black Caucus but is also important to our country to heal because the American people are family and like every family, we have suffered trauma. Like every family, if you ignore the trauma, if you bury the trauma, it doesn't heal. The only way it heals is when you acknowledge what happened and you learn from it. That is why every time there is a backlash and it involves propaganda to erase what happened and the truth, it doesn't erase it, it buries it and the trauma flares up.
Why do you think the Russians in 2016 decided to choose race as the scab to pick at? That is because in this country we have never truly healed. Until we talk about all of our history, we will never heal as a country and we will never live up to the ideals upon which we were founded.
The Congressional Black Caucus will fight every day to make sure that our stories are told, that all American stories are told, whether they are uncomfortable or not. They happened and they made us who we are as a people. It made us who we are as a Nation, and we cannot run from it.