Museum's visitors can soon spend a day as a slave
30.01.2010, 21:17
The Museum of Slavery and Civil Rights here plans to offer a new frontier in "experiential tourism" this spring: a day as a slave.
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"In order to heal, we must embrace the history of slavery here in America," said Afriye We-kandodis, the museum's director.
Not everyone is so excited. Selma booster George Swift steers visitors to the National Voting Rights Museum, but he's not as enthusiastic about its sister attraction.
"Some things are better left in the past," he said.
We-kandodis has designed a tour of the Museum of Slavery and Civil Rights that takes visitors from Africa, through the Middle Passage, into slavery and finally to freedom.
There's an aura of kindness around We-kandodis, with her angelically sweet, singing voice. But those attributes totally disappear when she sends visitors through a simulated Middle Passage.
Then, guests are forced to crawl through darkened passages and mount an auction block, with We-kandodis barking commands and harassment, liberally using the N-word. She divides groups against one another and separates families.
Some participants are nonchalant at first. We-kandodis recalls a young Japanese tourist who broke into a mocking hip-hop imitation before the tour began. By the end of the tour, he was apologetic and in tears.
The "slavery" is planned to begin in April. Participants will be given shabby clothes and will endure a day of hard labor, starting at 6 a.m. The work will not involve picking cotton, but repairing homes for the elderly or other community-service projects.
Joann Bland, executive director of the National Voting Rights Museum, is well aware that some in Selma would rather the slavery museum go away.
But Bland said the exhibits are important because many antebellum attractions never mention slavery. Bland recounts a tour of Selma's antebellum jewel, Sturdivant Hall. The architect was mentioned, as were the Italian craftsmen who crafted some of the fine details. But the tour guide didn't mention the slaves who built it.
"She never mentioned who carved those columns. It's as if we were not even there," Bland said. "There has to be a way to be inclusive."
Sturdivant director Carol Henry does refer to the laborers who built Sturdivant Hall as slaves when she gives tours, though others might use the term servants. She admires the craftsmanship of the builders and would elaborate, she said, but they don't have records of the individuals who built the house.
The mansion gets a modest flow of tourists, but it stays afloat and remarkably well-cared-for with revenue from its use for parties and wedding receptions. And in a sign of changing times, Henry noted, a black family recently rented the house for a wedding reception.
As confrontational and blunt as Bland can be, she has what is perhaps the Black Belt's chief attraction: a deep love affair with the place. It's a quality that cuts across racial lines and is deeply rooted in Black Belt soil.
"I plug Sturdivant Hall all the time," Bland said. "I love Selma. Selma is home. Selma has good bones."