David Eltis, Robert W. Woodruff Professor of History at Emory University, on the making of the Transatlantic Slave Trade database, a landmark collaborative digital project he has co-edited for two decades. Eltis discusses the research process, online dissemination, and new directions for the initiative. This is the second part of a two-part series recorded at the Atlantic Slave Biographies Database Conference at Michigan State University in November 2013.
Paul Lovejoy, Canada Research Chair in African Diaspora History at York University, discusses building an international database of biographical information on all enslaved Africans. He outlines this digital history project’s contribution to the study of slavery, race, and broader themes in global history. This is the first part of a two-part series recorded at the Atlantic Slave Biographies Database Conference at Michigan State University in November 2013. (Click here for Jessica Johnson’s Twitter timeline of the conference.)
Summer of 2013, in the wake of three kidnappings, each involving young women of color, Brenda Stevenson offered these comments on ways histories of Atlantic slavery continue to reverberate in violence against women today:
The brutal physical, psychological and sexual abuse that Ariel Castro inflicted on Michelle Knight, Amanda Berry, and Georgina DeJesus was typical of what black enslaved women endured over the generations. Michelle Knight’s description of her life of horrors and how she was able to survive it — through bonding with another slave woman — suggests the strength and importance of communal bonds as survival and resistance strategies of slaves in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Likewise, these women’s belief that they would not remain in slavery, as well as the Kenyan maid’s mad dash for freedom on an Orange County bus, suitcase in tow, underscore the resilience and resistance of past bondsmen and women. They are our contemporary Frederick Douglass, Harriet Jacobs and Lavinia Bell. Amanda Berry’s determination to shield her daughter from the violence and shame of her conception, and the brutal deaths of her siblings and stepsiblings at the hands of her “father/master,” speaks to the code of silence that many women, and men, evoked in order to shield the devastating experiences of their lives from public view and to protect their children. The “impact statements” that the families of Knight, Berry and DeJesus voiced, echo the sense of loss and devastation that colonial and antebellum slave families experienced when subject to separation and sale; as well as the immense joy they felt when they received word of their kin’s survival or actual return.
Modern-day slaveholders also offer insight that tugs at debates regarding the past institution. Ariel Castro’s courtroom lament that he was not a “monster,” but rather a “good worker” and “father” who took his daughter to church on Sundays, sheds a harsh light on lingering myths of Southern patriarchy and paternalism. His justification of his abuse — that he was only physically violent when provoked and that his sexual acts with his captives were consensual, even requested — echoes apologists theories that the antebellum institution was a “positive good” and that concubinage implied “loving” relationships. The notion that the Kenyan and Filipina workers of Aayban flew first class and attended spas as an example of how well they were treated is reminiscent of the tauted material condition of some past slaves who paid dearly as a result — the domestics, for example, who had better clothing and food than average field slaves, but who spent much of their lives separated from their kin and friends and were much more likely to be physically brutalized by mistresses with whom they worked or sexually assaulted by masters who had close physical proximity.
Brenda E. Stevenson, professor of history at UCLA, is the author of Life in Black and White: Family and Community in the Slave South (Oxford University Press, 1996). The full essay was published at the History News Network on August 19, 2013.
The acts in these registers were recorded in Spanish. The Spanish phonetic spelling of a surname often varied significantly from the French spelling. In addition, first names were Hispanicized: Etienne became Estevan; Jacques became Santiago; Elizabeth became Isabella, and Hélène became Elena. Surname spelling variations multiply under the Spanish as well. Undoubtedly, some of these similar names refer to the same family. In many entries, priests, witnesses and sponsors wrote in a hand that formed different letters in exactly the same way. U/N, U/V, C/B, S/Z, A/O, and E/C are the most common instances where the letters are simply indistinguishable. This uncertainty must be kept in mind, particularly in regard to unfamiliar surnames. The Spanish priests also introduced several new variations that were not evident during the French period. “B” and “V” as well as “S” and “C” are often used interchangeably. “H” appears and disappears before such vowels as “A” and “E” while “X”, “G”, and “J” are all pronounced “H” and thus are sometimes used interchangeably in entries. “I” is often replaced by “Y” in Spanish entries. The number next to the name in the index does not refer to the page number but to the entry number….
Reblogged from Diaspora Hypertext, the Blog.