---

“If I do forget, if I do not faithfully remember those bleeding children of sorrow this day, “may my right hand forget her cunning, and may my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth!” To forget them, to pass lightly over their wrongs, and to chime in with the popular theme, would be treason most scandalous and shocking, and would make me a reproach before God and the world. My subject, then fellow-citizens, is AMERICAN SLAVERY.” – Frederick Douglass, 1852

‘Never forget’ is what Americans tell ourselves so that we can remember the worst of history. Any mention of the Jewish Holocaust brings those two words to mind, as does the anniversary of 9-11. It’s part of our collective subconscious. 

Well, except when we talk about American slavery. 

Do a quick web search of “never forget, American slavery” and notice how many markers or memorials featuring ‘never forget’ are in the results. One? None? Why? 

Why have we made that two-word mantra part of our vernacular when it comes to genocide of the Jewish people and a 2001 attack on American soil, but not over 400 years of slavery, death, and racial injustice targeting descendants of Africa?

Racism, or apathy, or a mix of the two is one answer. Another is our fear of admitting to ourselves, as non-Blacks, that we and our ancestors may have benefited from centuries of two Americas – one that created generational wealth for whites, and one that took wealth from Blacks. 

Then there is the problem of misinformation about the Black experience in America, from the colonies to this very moment. That’s a problem that Roots 101 African American Museum is trying to fix. 

‘Welcome To America’

“Welcome to America.” Roots 101 Founder Lamont Collins says those words to me as he picks up a pair of 400-year-old iron shackles and drops them onto my wrists. The chain that connects them weighs down my arms. 

Collins asks me if I felt different, and I say yes. Because I do. But I am also in a museum, able to leave anytime I please through the door behind me. I have money in my pocket, and a car just down the street. I’m free. I cannot ever really know what it felt like to wear those shackles in slavery. 

Slave. That’s the label that people gave to men, women, and children robbed of their freedom by the very government others called democratic. It’s not what those men, women, and children were born to be. Collins explains a multitude of people brought to America in the slave trade were royalty – literally kings and queens and their descendants from Ghana and Nigeria and other mostly West African nations. 

“We are descendants of Kings and Queens who were enslaved in America,” Collins tells those who come through the museum doors. 

Faces, and the Queens

A pair of paintings created by Louisville-based artist Sandra Charles stretch toward the ceiling. Each is at least six feet, top to bottom, filled with a superbly dressed African matriarch. The women hold spears in their left hands to show their strength, but there is also softness. In their faces, and in their eyes. 

Each of the women is an “African Warrior Queen,” a series of paintings created by Charles to tell the story of family history most African Americans may have never heard. 

Looking out into the space below the matriarchs are dozens of masks, each revealing a face representative of the art and culture from the 34 countries from which they came. Togo, Ghana, Benin – the same Benin where highly skilled African sculptors laid bronze over beeswax-sculpted forms to create decorative horses and riders and other artifacts on display. 

Every work of art here, every face, tells a story that most Americans have never heard. They also correct the stories that America has too often gotten wrong. 

Racism In Imagery 

Another type of image fills a back corner of the main floor at Roots 101. There is a bronze statue of a Black child gagged and in chains. Early 20th century video of a middle aged Black man being taunted mercilessly by a White man runs nonstop. 

Sheet music of people in blackface and the character “Topsy.” Salt and pepper shakers and lawn jockeys with jet black faces and hands. A Confederate flag. 

These images are real, but the narrative – that Blacks are less than whites, or even less than human – is wrong. The fact that the narrative has survived in some misguided minds longer than 400 years does not make it true. 

‘Big Momma’s House’

Truth lies in the stories told in trustworthy places like home, characterized by Roots 101 as “Big Momma’s House.” Here, in a large exhibit space, are framed photos of mothers, fathers, lawyers, teachers, soldiers, and other African Americans with their families. 

The queens here are mothers, grandmothers, aunts, scientists, literary giants, teachers, and the many others who are building modern Black culture rather than tear it down. 

“We found a way to tell the excellence of our families in the living room,” Collins tells me. 

Then there are the star players. Special exhibits dedicated to art, music, and sports heroes are on display here for most every fan. A giant portrait of Louisvillian Muhammad Ali and vintage Ali Sports Illustrated covers fill one wall, rivaled only by an homage to Joe Louis. Upstairs, there’s a space dedicated to Black composers, musicians, and singers of every music genre found in America. 

A Catalyst For Change

Building culture – and preserving that culture – has never been easy for Blacks in America, and it is not easy now. No-knock warrants, economic injustice, educational injustice, taxation without representation… all are very real. 

Roots 101 turns injustice into a catalyst for change by changing how Black oppression is depicted. Iconic photos of the late Breonna Taylor and the late George Floyd are recreated here in paint and fiber, making them new all over again. Names of dozens of victims of racial violence are written on the outside of a black “casket”– an open wood box on display fitted with handles used to carry it during a recent downtown Louisville protest.

Inside the box is a full-length mirror that allows everyone, of every race and background, to see themselves as a victim of violence. 

“I just want you to think,” Collins tells me, “not tell you 400 years of racist literature.” 

‘A Healing Space’

The lessons taught at Roots 101 can be hard to contemplate, especially for a White person like me. But Collins wants people who visit the space to see a better future, not just an often unimaginable past. That is what I see as the best takeaway. 

“When you think about when America was at its greatest, it was when we all came together,” Collins tells me, gesturing around the museum space. “This is a healing space.” 

Roots 101 African American Museum is located at 124 N. 1st Street in Louisville. It is open 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Tuesday through Saturday and closed on Sunday. The museum is open on Monday by appointment only. For more information, please call Roots 101 at 502-384-1940 or check out the museum website at www.roots-101.org.