What’s in it for me? Learn about the untold history of America, and why it matters.
A British pirate ship, the White Lion, docked in Jamestown, Virginia.
Twenty to thirty enslaved Africans were shackled on board – survivors of an ordeal that eclipses our worst imaginings, bonded in pain, uncertainty, and their profound significance in the creation of the United States.
They’d been captured from a Portuguese slave ship, which had sailed from what is now known as Angola.
Here, at this grim end to all that they’d endured so far, they were sold to the English colonists living there, in exchange for goods and replenishments.
The year was 1619, and this was the incident that marked the start of the trade in enslaved people, which would see millions of women, men and children kidnapped and sold to work in perpetuity, in American forced labor camps.
The wealth and attendant social and political power that proliferated from the institution of slavery alone, make it one of the most influential elements in the birth of the country.
The year 1619 therefore marks a very different origin story for the founding of the nation – one that diverges from the story you’re probably used to.
And yet most people aren’t even aware of the significance of that date.
In fact, only 8 percent of US high school seniors are familiar with the history of slavery.
And only half of US adults realize that enslaved people were imprisoned in all 13 colonies.
This ignorance isn’t accidental.
It’s convenient to erase the history of slavery from the public record – to focus on the “plucky pilgrims who fought for freedom” rather than confront the violence and human rights abuses perpetrated by the Founding Fathers.
But without coming to grips with the past we can’t understand the challenges we face in the present.
Because the legacy of 1619 is alive and well today.
It’s baked into our institutions, our social systems, and our laws.
The 1619 Project aims to fill the gaps in our historical record, and reveal the true history of slavery and how it’s shaped the United States as we know it.
But it doesn’t stop there.
It offers a way forward, and provides concrete solutions for how to start to repair the harm caused by the slave trade, which has sustained over 400 years of discriminatory, racist legislation and violence.
In this Blink, you will learn how enslaved people created the foundation of American prosperity; why the Declaration of Independence was based on a lie; and how reparations for the descendants of enslaved people are essential for American democracy.
A history of silences, and flying the flag of a country that abandoned you.
Let’s begin with two powerful moments in Nikole Hannah-Jones’s life.
The first takes place in the author’s childhood home.
One of the things Hannah-Jones remembers most clearly from her childhood is the American flag that fluttered on the front lawn of their family home.
It was her father’s pride and joy, and he went to great lengths to make sure it was always immaculate.
The house might fall into disrepair, but the flag was replaced as soon as it became a little bit frayed.
Hannah-Jones didn’t understand her father’s patriotism at all.
This was a man born in Mississippi, one of the most violently racist states in the country – someone whose mother hadn’t been allowed to vote or use the library.
A descendent of enslaved people who’d been forced to toil in inhumane conditions, this was a man who’d experienced discrimination in every aspect of his life.
It impacted where he was allowed to live, what kind of education he had access to, and what kind of jobs he could get.
He’d joined the military, believing it would give him access to the privileges afforded white US citizens, only to be overlooked when it came to promotions, and eventually discharged.
This was a fiercely intelligent man who spent his life working in service jobs that barely allowed him to get by.
So, when the country he’d grown up in had let him down so much, how could he be so patriotic?
Why did he insist on flying that red, white, and blue flag?
Like many teenagers, Hannah-Jones was mortified by her father’s insistence on flying the flag.
Added to that, she thought his patriotism was misguided, that he’d been lulled into participating in his own degradation.
The second moment takes place in her classroom, at school.
Her social-studies teacher has given all the students an assignment: Draw the national flag of the country where your ancestors came from.
Hannah-Jones locks eyes with the only other Black child in the class.
Like many descendants of enslaved people, they don’t know exactly where their ancestors came from, just that it’s somewhere in Africa.
The moment is uncomfortable; it’s awkward; it’s subtle in its cruelty.
They’re denied the glee their white classmates experience in tracing their heritage back to Scotland, or Italy.
Hannah-Jones goes to the globe and picks a random African country, and draws that flag.
She doesn’t even consider drawing the flag of the country where she was actually born, a place where her ancestors had lived for hundreds of years.
As a child, Nikole Hannah-Jones had absorbed the message that as a Black person she didn’t really belong in the United States.
She wasn’t a “real” American.
And she’d absorbed the message that Black people hadn’t contributed much to the country, except “perhaps” their physical labor.
After all, there were no Black people among the Founding Fathers, no Black men with their faces carved into Mount Rushmore, no Black politicians staring back at her from the pages of the history books she’d read in school.
In short, if the history books were to be believed, Black people featured very minimally in the story of the United States.
They popped up in the section about enslaved people, as a victimized population who were held in subjugation until they were “freed” by Abraham Lincoln.
Then Black people disappeared from the history books until suddenly someone called Martin Luther King Jr.
gave a speech about “having a dream.
” So who could’ve blamed Hannah-Jones for believing that Black people didn’t really have much to do with the forming of the United States, nevermind anything to be proud of?
She’d later learn that, like many Americans, she’d bought into the biggest lie of all – a lie her father disavowed every time he flew that flag in their garden.
She’d realize that her father’s reasons for flying the flag were more complex than she could’ve imagined; he knew something she didn’t about the country she’d grown up in.
She’d realize that her school education was missing vital parts of the history of herself, her father, and other Black Americans.
You see, what you think you know about the founding of America has been warped and distorted.
From the date the first ship arrived, to the reason the pilgrims decided to declare independence, to the role Black people have played in forming the country.
Even though it happened hundreds of years ago, these stories matter.
And they matter more than you know.
They matter to girls like Hannah-Jones, staring at a globe and trying to figure out where they come from.
And they matter to every person who wants to understand the tendrils of white supremacy that still choke them, no matter how much they try to escape it.
They matter to politicians and teachers and historians, and anyone with an interest in systemic poverty, and racism, and why it is that Black people, today, in the United States, are murdered for going to the shops or jogging around their neighbourhoods, or even lying asleep in their beds.
So, let’s talk about why the date 1619 is so important.
Let’s talk about how its legacy has shaped America.
In the usual telling, America is born with the Declaration of Independence, where all men are declared equal – a full 157 years after that fateful August in 1619, in Jamestown, Virginia.
Origin stories
But that’s where the real story begins.
You see, the arrival of the pirate ship – the White Lion – marked the start of the trade in enslaved people.
Over the course of hundreds of years, 12.
5 million people were kidnapped and made to endure the perilous trip across the Atlantic – the Middle Passage – and sold into the cruel and inhumane business of slavery.
Over two million people would die on that journey, before reaching their destination.
And if it weren’t for slavery, it’s very probable that indpendence would’ve been sought at a different moment for very different reasons, if at all.
Let’s go into this last statement a bit more.
There would be no America as we know it today without this evil and lucrative trade.
Enslaved people cleared the land for crops and taught colonists how to grow rice and survive plagues, like smallpox.
They did the back-breaking work of planting and harvesting cotton – the country’s most successful export, which would impact national economies the world over.
And they laid the railways that made the Industrial Revolution possible.
Enslaved people made the country extraordinarily wealthy.
So, understandably, slave owners were very wary of abolition.
So wary, in fact, that they decided to declare independence from Britain in order to keep on participating in the trade.
How did this play out?
To answer that, let’s visit a different moment in history.
A moment that is taught in the school history books.
The year is 1776, and Thomas Jefferson is sitting at his desk, penning the Declaration of Independence – the declaration that is still quoted today.
It states: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their creator with certain unalienable rights.
” This revolutionary statement was also an exercise in hypocrisy.
If all men were created equal, why did Jefferson have an enslaved person – by the name of Robert Hemings – waiting on him hand and foot, at the very moment he was penning this document?
Jefferson also held 130 enslaved people captive at his forced labor camp, Monticello.
In fact, his status as an enslaver was the source of his wealth.
Jefferson, of course, was not alone in trading in enslaved people.
One fifth of all the people living in the colonies at that time were enslaved, and you don’t get to those numbers without a thriving network of active participants.
So, how did the Founding Fathers justify this brutality that went against their own declaration?
By arguing that enslaved people weren’t really human – that, rather, they were property.
Slave codes were introduced across the colonies to enact this into law.
Enslaved people weren’t allowed to marry, or learn to read.
They had no rights to their children, who were often separated from them and sold on, and they had no legal recourse in the courts.
Enslavers could rape and murder enslaved people with no consequence.
And, of course, the enslaved were denied their freedom.
So, even as Jefferson was declaring that “all men were equal,” the Founding Fathers benefited from the forced labor of Black people who they’d contrived to pretend were not in fact equal.
But slavery wasn’t only an unfortunate contradiction to the Declaration of Independence.
It was a large part of the reason that America became independent in the first place.
In other words, there might well be no America if it weren’t for slavery.
In the story we know so well, colonists fight a noble battle for freedom against the British, taking up arms to declare independence against the Crown.
But the more uncomfortable truth is that colonists declared independence because they wanted to prevent enslaved people from becoming free.
You see, up until 1776, the 13 colonies were under British rule.
However, there were signs that the British were making moves to abolish the slave trade.
In 1772, an enslaved man by the name of James Somerset successfully won his freedom when the British courts ruled it unconstitutional to hold people as slaves on British soil.
Then, in 1775, the enslaver James Madison got wind of a rumor that the British Parliament was in the process of introducing legislation that would free enslaved people in all the colonies.
The last straw came in 1775, when the Earl of Dunmore, John Murrray, threatened Virginia colonists with freeing all the enslaved people in their forced labor camps if they took up arms.
The message was clear.
If the colonies stayed under British rule, their rights to keeping enslaved people would come under threat.
Instead of risking that, all 13 colonies banded together in a rare show of unity to declare independence from the Crown, and protect the vast wealth generated by the forced labor of the hundreds of thousands of enslaved people in the country.
The Declaration of Independence was created in the service of a perverse freedom: the freedom to keep other human beings captive.
But there’s another, even greater paradox here: while white colonists might not have truly believed in the Declaration of Independence, Black people did.
Even as they experienced first-hand how it was to be treated as less-than, as property, they fought fiercely for the ideals enshrined by that declaration.
And they’ve never stopped fighting.
Black Americans have fought tirelessly for democracy.
Black Americans have not only contributed to this country through their enormous, back-breaking labors.
They’ve also contributed by fighting for democracy.
Real democracy.
By trying to hold the country to the lofty promises Thomas Jefferson made when he penned that declaration in 1776.
He may not have truly believed in it, but Black people certainly did.
Think of the many struggles for equality that play out in American courts today.
Like the fight for the legalization of same sex marriage.
Or for disabled people to have equal opportunities to find employment.
Or for the evangelical churchgoer fighting discrimination from an employer.
These rights are protected by the Fourteenth Amendment, a clause in the constitution that enshrines equality in the eyes of the law.
And that amendment would never have been added had it not been for the work of Black activists, fighting for equality against terrible odds.
When enslaved people were finally freed, they didn’t turn against their captors, as had been feared.
Instead, they worked to try and make America more equitable and prosperous.
In a period after the Civil War, called the Reconstruction, Black activists and, later, politicians, were responsible for ushering in some of the most progressive legislation America has known.
Like the Civil Rights Act of 1868, which to this day guarantees citizenship to anyone born in the United States.
And the Fifteenth Amendment, which ensured that all men could vote, regardless of color.
In a brief window, from 1865 to 1877, Black and white politicians worked together to rebuild the country with a vision of a truly equal society, passing legislation against housing discrimination, and creating the first universal public school system in America.
In 1873, the University of South Carolina became the first fully integrated university.
But, sadly, these gains wouldn’t last.
A supreme court ruled that racial segregation was legal in 1896, despite the Fourteenth Amendment.
Southern states devised laws and codes to once again disenfranchise Black voters.
And Black people were prohibited from doing jury service, or living near white people, or attending mixed schools.
The opportunity to rebuild an egalitarian society was lost.
It’s telling that the gains made during Reconstruction now sound radical, over 150 years later.
But Black Americans haven’t given up on democracy.
For example, in the 2020 elections, Black activists campaigned tirelessly against voter suppression.
Black voters are most likely to support universal health care and a higher minimum wage, and in spite of being twice as likely to be unemployed, Black folks are also much more willing to give shelter to refugees.
Black activists have largely fought alone – the majority of white Americans don’t support their struggle.
And these aren’t fights for the interests of Black communities only – the activism and struggle have paved the way for all marginalized people to be treated equally.
It’s not a zero-sum equation.
Hannah-Jones now sees her father’s decision to proudly fly the flag in their garden very differently.
It’s not a sign of subjugation to the colonial powers.
In fact, it’s a sign of proud defiance.
Her father was asserting that America belonged to him, too.
Because his people had helped build the land, and shape it into the democracy it is.
However, this contribution has never been acknowledged.
Not in the history books and not by the American government.
That has to change.
Racial justice is economic justice.
Take a moment to travel to the mid-1940s, to a small town in Alabama, where a Black entrepreneur, Elmore Bolling, ran a successful business.
Bolling owned a gas station, general store, and delivery service.
He leased a large tract of land, where he built a large house, and grew cotton, corn and sugarcane.
He and his wife expanded their operations to include a restaurant doing Friday-night fish fries and selling ice cream – a rare delicacy at the time.
Bolling’s business provided a safe place for Black people to get gas and hang out with friends and family.
It also provided employment to more than 40 people from the area.
That ended one day in 1947, when two white men stopped Bolling’s truck as he was making deliveries, and shot him six times.
He was, as one person put it, a “marked man” because he’d become too successful.
The white men were enraged by his prosperity, and they killed him for it.
The effect on Bolling’s family was devastating.
They quickly lost everything that he’d built.
The family fled the state, and scraped by doing menial labor.
Bolling had dreamed of all his children getting a good education, but ultimately only one got a college degree.
Imagine how things could have turned out if the Bollings had been left to continue their successful business.
Imagine what kinds of lives their children and grandchildren would be living now.
Imagine how many Black-owned businesses would have blossomed up around it, bringing economic prosperity to Black communities in Alabama.
The story of what happened to Elmore Bolling has been repeated time and again in American history.
Whether through discriminatory legaslation or blatant violence, Black people have been denied any form of economic stability or prosperity.
When enslaved people were finally freed, they immediately asked for some form of compensation for what they’d endured, some form of reparations for the enormous sacrifices they’d made to ensure America became the prosperous country it is today.
Over and over, those requests were denied.
Enslaved people were free by law, but in real, economic terms they were still held captive, often forced to work as impoverished sharecroppers on the same labor camps where they’d been enslaved on to avoid going hungry.
Consequently, there is nothing to pass down to other generations, no opportunity to enjoy the intergenerational wealth that white Americans have profited from.
It’s important to remember that racism has always been about money.
Slavery was justified by bogus argumentation that centered on the dehumanization of Black people – rationale that allowed white enslavers to become obscenely wealthy through their constant and violent exploitation.
When explicitly racist policies have been overturned, lawmakers have been quick to replace them with so-called “race neutral” ones that achieved the same results through economic policies.
For example, after the Fifteenth Amendment was introduced in the late 1800s to allow Black men to vote, white politicians introduced poll taxes.
They knew that Black people – who had been systematically impoverished – wouldn’t be able to pay.
And when segregation was overturned in the courts, white politicians found other ways to enact discriminatory policies: Black people were denied the mortgages that would have allowed them to buy homes in so-called “white” areas, and were excluded from the unions that were a pathway to the middle-class jobs held by white people.
While white people were allowed to accumulate intergenerational wealth through generous government policies, Black people have systematically been kept poor.
In spite of all the enormous gains by the Civil Rights Movement, income disparity between Black and white households is the same today as it was in the 1950s.
So, when you talk about racial justice, it’s not enough to just talk about changing laws.
A new law won’t bring back the lost value of a house affected by redlining.
It won’t bridge the gulf created by decades of inferior education and lost opportunities.
It does nothing to actually level the playing field.
Racial justice is economic justice.
The United States government allocates five million dollars every year to support Holocaust survivors.
Japanese Americans who were imprisoned in internment camps have also received reparations in recognition for what they endured.
But, for three decades, congress has refused to even consider the question of reparations for the descendants of enslaved people.
White Americans like to believe that the struggle for racial justice has already been won.
After centuries of discrimination, what is needed are reparations.
They point to milestones in civil-rights legislation, or the election of President Barack Obama, to make the point.
Implicit is the idea that we should just “move on,” that Black people could lift themselves up if they just tried hard enough.
But the American government has systematically impoverished Black people over four centuries, through enslavement, and then Jim Crow, and now economic segregation.
Black poverty is not individual, or accidental.
It’s the outcome of carefully designed policies.
So achieving equality also needs to happen by careful design, on a federal level.
And reparations aren’t a zero-sum game.
They aren’t a punishment, and they don’t need to come out of white Americans’ pockets.
They need to come from the federal government.
What’s good for Black Americans is good for all Americans.
After all, the hard-fought gains of civil-rights activists benefit us all.
The year 1619 marks a painful date in the history of America.
We could try and forget that date, as we have for so long.
Or we could use it to inspire us.
To remind us of the centuries of Black activists who’ve been working to create a democracy worthy of the Declaration of Independence.
We can use it as a reminder of what’s possible when we’re willing to tell stories about what really happened, instead of ignoring inconvenient truths.
The story of America isn’t over yet.
By acknowledging the legacy of slavery, we finally have the potential to build a country that doesn’t live in its shadow.
A country where civil rights aren’t just talked about.
A country that uplifts the most vulnerable of its inhabitants, and affirms their humanity before the law.
In accounting for the past, there’s an opportunity to shape a different kind of future.
A future that really does live up to those words that Jefferson wrote in 1776.
To recap, that August day in 1619, when the White Lion docked in Virginia, set into motion the creation of America – an America built on enslaved labor.
Final summary
An America whose colonists’ freedom from the British Empire came at the price of human captivity and exploitation.
The origin story of America starts with that date.
But it’s not only a story of enslavement.
It’s also a story about the incredible contribution of Black Americans, who have fought tirelessly to help America become the country it promised to be in the Declaration of Independence.