246 years. Nearly two and a half centuries. That is how long slavery lasted in what is now the United States of America. This is the day that we commemorate the moment that the last enslaved Americans were finally freed in the slavery stronghold of Texas on June 19, 1865. They had toiled for two and a half years after the Emancipation Proclamation and months after the end of the Civil War. These are the people, the enslaved ancestors, whose courage and fortitude we honor today. They are the reason we celebrate. This is a time to remember that slavery was not merely a sad, dark chapter in our country’s history, but the foundation of the country’s social, political and economic order, and that it lasted for nearly a quarter of a millennium. Slavery lasted so long that no adult alive today will be alive at the point when African-Americans will have been free for as long as African-Americans were enslaved. That will not happen until the year 2111. It was a privilege to speak about the significance of this day and of the central role of slavery in the history of this country with @nprmichel on @NPR’s Morning Edition today: “The building of the country cannot be extricated from slavery: Enslaved people cleared the land and built the early infrastructure that would become the United States. They built the wall in lower Manhattan from which Wall Street takes its name. They built the Capitol Building and the White House….. “This is a day to recognize and extend gratitude to twelve generations of people who gave so much to this country and received so little for their hard labors.” Here in this iconic photo, survivors of slavery steadfastly observe Juneteenth in their hats, canes and bonnets in Austin, TX, 1900. In the early years, the newly freed people and their descendants took pains to dress up for Juneteenth, as laws had forbidden enslaved people from dressing “above their station,” above their caste. In honor of the last African-Americans to finally be set free from chattel slavery…. #juneteenth #freedomday
246 years. Nearly two and a half centuries. That is how long slavery lasted in what is now the United States of America. This is the day that we commemorate the moment that the last enslaved Americans were finally freed in the slavery stronghold of Texas on June 19, 1865. They had toiled for two and a half years after the Emancipation Proclamation and months after the end of the Civil War. These are the people, the enslaved ancestors, whose courage and fortitude we honor today. They are the reason we celebrate. This is a time to remember that slavery was not merely a sad, dark chapter in our country’s history, but the foundation of the country’s social, political and economic order, and that it lasted for nearly a quarter of a millennium. Slavery lasted so long that no adult alive today will be alive at the point when African-Americans will have been free for as long as African-Americans were enslaved. That will not happen until the year 2111. It was a privilege to speak about the significance of this day and of the central role of slavery in the history of this country with @nprmichel on @NPR’s Morning Edition today: “The building of the country cannot be extricated from slavery: Enslaved people cleared the land and built the early infrastructure that would become the United States. They built the wall in lower Manhattan from which Wall Street takes its name. They built the Capitol Building and the White House….. “This is a day to recognize and extend gratitude to twelve generations of people who gave so much to this country and received so little for their hard labors.” Here in this iconic photo, survivors of slavery steadfastly observe Juneteenth in their hats, canes and bonnets in Austin, TX, 1900. In the early years, the newly freed people and their descendants took pains to dress up for Juneteenth, as laws had forbidden enslaved people from dressing “above their station,” above their caste. In honor of the last African-Americans to finally be set free from chattel slavery…. #juneteenth #freedomday
Here I am onstage at Wellesley College, feeling inspired and summoning calm, minutes before the first of three commencement addresses I was to deliver during the recently concluded commencement season. What do you say to graduates who entered college in the throes of a pandemic and are now about to enter the storms of this era? What do you say to the families and faculty and loved ones gathered to cheer them on while managing their own uncertainties? I chose to turn to humanity’s instruction manual — history — and to humanity’s teachers — the ancestors — for guidance and solace. At one point, I said: “Every single one of us in this gathering, every single one of us on this planet, is here because the ancestors of all of us found a way to somehow survive war, famine, drought, floods, depression, plagues and pestilence, upheavals of every kind imaginable. “Not one of us would be here if they had not found a way to survive. Every single one of us is a product of every single decision that every single ancestor throughout our lineage ever made. “We each have been given a code of instructions for survival deep in our marrow. How can we harness the wisdom of the ancients to survive and to transcend humanity’s current upheavals?” The answers reside deep within the hearts of every one of us. With gratitude to Wellesley College, Grinnell College and Carleton College for the honor of delivering their commencement addresses, and with heartfelt blessings to the Class of 2025 as these newly minted graduates take on the world. 💫 ——- Slides 1, 2, 3: Wellesley College Slides 4, 5 and 7: Grinnell College (forced inside due to rain) Slide 6: Carleton College
Here I am onstage at Wellesley College, feeling inspired and summoning calm, minutes before the first of three commencement addresses I was to deliver during the recently concluded commencement season. What do you say to graduates who entered college in the throes of a pandemic and are now about to enter the storms of this era? What do you say to the families and faculty and loved ones gathered to cheer them on while managing their own uncertainties? I chose to turn to humanity’s instruction manual — history — and to humanity’s teachers — the ancestors — for guidance and solace. At one point, I said: “Every single one of us in this gathering, every single one of us on this planet, is here because the ancestors of all of us found a way to somehow survive war, famine, drought, floods, depression, plagues and pestilence, upheavals of every kind imaginable. “Not one of us would be here if they had not found a way to survive. Every single one of us is a product of every single decision that every single ancestor throughout our lineage ever made. “We each have been given a code of instructions for survival deep in our marrow. How can we harness the wisdom of the ancients to survive and to transcend humanity’s current upheavals?” The answers reside deep within the hearts of every one of us. With gratitude to Wellesley College, Grinnell College and Carleton College for the honor of delivering their commencement addresses, and with heartfelt blessings to the Class of 2025 as these newly minted graduates take on the world. 💫 ——- Slides 1, 2, 3: Wellesley College Slides 4, 5 and 7: Grinnell College (forced inside due to rain) Slide 6: Carleton College
Here I am onstage at Wellesley College, feeling inspired and summoning calm, minutes before the first of three commencement addresses I was to deliver during the recently concluded commencement season. What do you say to graduates who entered college in the throes of a pandemic and are now about to enter the storms of this era? What do you say to the families and faculty and loved ones gathered to cheer them on while managing their own uncertainties? I chose to turn to humanity’s instruction manual — history — and to humanity’s teachers — the ancestors — for guidance and solace. At one point, I said: “Every single one of us in this gathering, every single one of us on this planet, is here because the ancestors of all of us found a way to somehow survive war, famine, drought, floods, depression, plagues and pestilence, upheavals of every kind imaginable. “Not one of us would be here if they had not found a way to survive. Every single one of us is a product of every single decision that every single ancestor throughout our lineage ever made. “We each have been given a code of instructions for survival deep in our marrow. How can we harness the wisdom of the ancients to survive and to transcend humanity’s current upheavals?” The answers reside deep within the hearts of every one of us. With gratitude to Wellesley College, Grinnell College and Carleton College for the honor of delivering their commencement addresses, and with heartfelt blessings to the Class of 2025 as these newly minted graduates take on the world. 💫 ——- Slides 1, 2, 3: Wellesley College Slides 4, 5 and 7: Grinnell College (forced inside due to rain) Slide 6: Carleton College
Here I am onstage at Wellesley College, feeling inspired and summoning calm, minutes before the first of three commencement addresses I was to deliver during the recently concluded commencement season. What do you say to graduates who entered college in the throes of a pandemic and are now about to enter the storms of this era? What do you say to the families and faculty and loved ones gathered to cheer them on while managing their own uncertainties? I chose to turn to humanity’s instruction manual — history — and to humanity’s teachers — the ancestors — for guidance and solace. At one point, I said: “Every single one of us in this gathering, every single one of us on this planet, is here because the ancestors of all of us found a way to somehow survive war, famine, drought, floods, depression, plagues and pestilence, upheavals of every kind imaginable. “Not one of us would be here if they had not found a way to survive. Every single one of us is a product of every single decision that every single ancestor throughout our lineage ever made. “We each have been given a code of instructions for survival deep in our marrow. How can we harness the wisdom of the ancients to survive and to transcend humanity’s current upheavals?” The answers reside deep within the hearts of every one of us. With gratitude to Wellesley College, Grinnell College and Carleton College for the honor of delivering their commencement addresses, and with heartfelt blessings to the Class of 2025 as these newly minted graduates take on the world. 💫 ——- Slides 1, 2, 3: Wellesley College Slides 4, 5 and 7: Grinnell College (forced inside due to rain) Slide 6: Carleton College
Here I am onstage at Wellesley College, feeling inspired and summoning calm, minutes before the first of three commencement addresses I was to deliver during the recently concluded commencement season. What do you say to graduates who entered college in the throes of a pandemic and are now about to enter the storms of this era? What do you say to the families and faculty and loved ones gathered to cheer them on while managing their own uncertainties? I chose to turn to humanity’s instruction manual — history — and to humanity’s teachers — the ancestors — for guidance and solace. At one point, I said: “Every single one of us in this gathering, every single one of us on this planet, is here because the ancestors of all of us found a way to somehow survive war, famine, drought, floods, depression, plagues and pestilence, upheavals of every kind imaginable. “Not one of us would be here if they had not found a way to survive. Every single one of us is a product of every single decision that every single ancestor throughout our lineage ever made. “We each have been given a code of instructions for survival deep in our marrow. How can we harness the wisdom of the ancients to survive and to transcend humanity’s current upheavals?” The answers reside deep within the hearts of every one of us. With gratitude to Wellesley College, Grinnell College and Carleton College for the honor of delivering their commencement addresses, and with heartfelt blessings to the Class of 2025 as these newly minted graduates take on the world. 💫 ——- Slides 1, 2, 3: Wellesley College Slides 4, 5 and 7: Grinnell College (forced inside due to rain) Slide 6: Carleton College
Here I am onstage at Wellesley College, feeling inspired and summoning calm, minutes before the first of three commencement addresses I was to deliver during the recently concluded commencement season. What do you say to graduates who entered college in the throes of a pandemic and are now about to enter the storms of this era? What do you say to the families and faculty and loved ones gathered to cheer them on while managing their own uncertainties? I chose to turn to humanity’s instruction manual — history — and to humanity’s teachers — the ancestors — for guidance and solace. At one point, I said: “Every single one of us in this gathering, every single one of us on this planet, is here because the ancestors of all of us found a way to somehow survive war, famine, drought, floods, depression, plagues and pestilence, upheavals of every kind imaginable. “Not one of us would be here if they had not found a way to survive. Every single one of us is a product of every single decision that every single ancestor throughout our lineage ever made. “We each have been given a code of instructions for survival deep in our marrow. How can we harness the wisdom of the ancients to survive and to transcend humanity’s current upheavals?” The answers reside deep within the hearts of every one of us. With gratitude to Wellesley College, Grinnell College and Carleton College for the honor of delivering their commencement addresses, and with heartfelt blessings to the Class of 2025 as these newly minted graduates take on the world. 💫 ——- Slides 1, 2, 3: Wellesley College Slides 4, 5 and 7: Grinnell College (forced inside due to rain) Slide 6: Carleton College
Here I am onstage at Wellesley College, feeling inspired and summoning calm, minutes before the first of three commencement addresses I was to deliver during the recently concluded commencement season. What do you say to graduates who entered college in the throes of a pandemic and are now about to enter the storms of this era? What do you say to the families and faculty and loved ones gathered to cheer them on while managing their own uncertainties? I chose to turn to humanity’s instruction manual — history — and to humanity’s teachers — the ancestors — for guidance and solace. At one point, I said: “Every single one of us in this gathering, every single one of us on this planet, is here because the ancestors of all of us found a way to somehow survive war, famine, drought, floods, depression, plagues and pestilence, upheavals of every kind imaginable. “Not one of us would be here if they had not found a way to survive. Every single one of us is a product of every single decision that every single ancestor throughout our lineage ever made. “We each have been given a code of instructions for survival deep in our marrow. How can we harness the wisdom of the ancients to survive and to transcend humanity’s current upheavals?” The answers reside deep within the hearts of every one of us. With gratitude to Wellesley College, Grinnell College and Carleton College for the honor of delivering their commencement addresses, and with heartfelt blessings to the Class of 2025 as these newly minted graduates take on the world. 💫 ——- Slides 1, 2, 3: Wellesley College Slides 4, 5 and 7: Grinnell College (forced inside due to rain) Slide 6: Carleton College
Few symbols of America are as iconic and instantly recognizable as the Statue of Liberty, and yet many Americans may not know of its origins and connection — like so much of American history — to slavery and the Civil War. The statue was conceived by a French abolitionist who had been watching from across the Atlantic as the Union fought the Confederacy in the costliest war on American soil. After the Union won and ended slavery in 1865, the president of the French Anti-Slavery Society, Edouard Laboulaye, proposed a colossal monument as a gift to the United States from the people of France to celebrate the U.S. centennial and the triumph of freedom that the Union victory represented. The abolitionist enlisted sculptor Frederic-Auguste Bartholdi to design it. The sculptor, in turn, enlisted engineer Gustav Eiffel, years before he built the Eiffel Tower, to devise a framework that could withstand the winds of New York Harbor. What is less known is that early models of the statue gave greater prominence to what the abolitionists intended the statue to represent. Renderings from the 1870s show that Bartholdi envisioned the statue holding broken chains in her left hand. The Frenchmen used those images to seek U.S support for the pedestal the statue needed— just as the country was moving away from the lessons of the Civil War and headed toward Jim Crow. By the time the statue was dedicated in 1886, the broken chains and shackle that the sculptor originally intended had been replaced with a tablet inscribed “July IV MDCCLXXVI” (July 4, 1776), the date we commemorate today. Bartholdi managed to keep this original element in a less visible location: He placed a shackle and two broken chains at the Statue of Liberty’s feet. Thus the statue, humbling and magnificent, is a study in contradictions — a woman of classical European form conceived in the aftermath of the American Civil War, erected on a pedestal on the eve of Jim Crow, when women and Black citizens had few rights and with the very spark that led to her creation — the end of slavery — virtually hidden in the chains beneath the robes at her feet. How interwoven we are as a nation.
Few symbols of America are as iconic and instantly recognizable as the Statue of Liberty, and yet many Americans may not know of its origins and connection — like so much of American history — to slavery and the Civil War. The statue was conceived by a French abolitionist who had been watching from across the Atlantic as the Union fought the Confederacy in the costliest war on American soil. After the Union won and ended slavery in 1865, the president of the French Anti-Slavery Society, Edouard Laboulaye, proposed a colossal monument as a gift to the United States from the people of France to celebrate the U.S. centennial and the triumph of freedom that the Union victory represented. The abolitionist enlisted sculptor Frederic-Auguste Bartholdi to design it. The sculptor, in turn, enlisted engineer Gustav Eiffel, years before he built the Eiffel Tower, to devise a framework that could withstand the winds of New York Harbor. What is less known is that early models of the statue gave greater prominence to what the abolitionists intended the statue to represent. Renderings from the 1870s show that Bartholdi envisioned the statue holding broken chains in her left hand. The Frenchmen used those images to seek U.S support for the pedestal the statue needed— just as the country was moving away from the lessons of the Civil War and headed toward Jim Crow. By the time the statue was dedicated in 1886, the broken chains and shackle that the sculptor originally intended had been replaced with a tablet inscribed “July IV MDCCLXXVI” (July 4, 1776), the date we commemorate today. Bartholdi managed to keep this original element in a less visible location: He placed a shackle and two broken chains at the Statue of Liberty’s feet. Thus the statue, humbling and magnificent, is a study in contradictions — a woman of classical European form conceived in the aftermath of the American Civil War, erected on a pedestal on the eve of Jim Crow, when women and Black citizens had few rights and with the very spark that led to her creation — the end of slavery — virtually hidden in the chains beneath the robes at her feet. How interwoven we are as a nation.
Few symbols of America are as iconic and instantly recognizable as the Statue of Liberty, and yet many Americans may not know of its origins and connection — like so much of American history — to slavery and the Civil War. The statue was conceived by a French abolitionist who had been watching from across the Atlantic as the Union fought the Confederacy in the costliest war on American soil. After the Union won and ended slavery in 1865, the president of the French Anti-Slavery Society, Edouard Laboulaye, proposed a colossal monument as a gift to the United States from the people of France to celebrate the U.S. centennial and the triumph of freedom that the Union victory represented. The abolitionist enlisted sculptor Frederic-Auguste Bartholdi to design it. The sculptor, in turn, enlisted engineer Gustav Eiffel, years before he built the Eiffel Tower, to devise a framework that could withstand the winds of New York Harbor. What is less known is that early models of the statue gave greater prominence to what the abolitionists intended the statue to represent. Renderings from the 1870s show that Bartholdi envisioned the statue holding broken chains in her left hand. The Frenchmen used those images to seek U.S support for the pedestal the statue needed— just as the country was moving away from the lessons of the Civil War and headed toward Jim Crow. By the time the statue was dedicated in 1886, the broken chains and shackle that the sculptor originally intended had been replaced with a tablet inscribed “July IV MDCCLXXVI” (July 4, 1776), the date we commemorate today. Bartholdi managed to keep this original element in a less visible location: He placed a shackle and two broken chains at the Statue of Liberty’s feet. Thus the statue, humbling and magnificent, is a study in contradictions — a woman of classical European form conceived in the aftermath of the American Civil War, erected on a pedestal on the eve of Jim Crow, when women and Black citizens had few rights and with the very spark that led to her creation — the end of slavery — virtually hidden in the chains beneath the robes at her feet. How interwoven we are as a nation.
Few symbols of America are as iconic and instantly recognizable as the Statue of Liberty, and yet many Americans may not know of its origins and connection — like so much of American history — to slavery and the Civil War. The statue was conceived by a French abolitionist who had been watching from across the Atlantic as the Union fought the Confederacy in the costliest war on American soil. After the Union won and ended slavery in 1865, the president of the French Anti-Slavery Society, Edouard Laboulaye, proposed a colossal monument as a gift to the United States from the people of France to celebrate the U.S. centennial and the triumph of freedom that the Union victory represented. The abolitionist enlisted sculptor Frederic-Auguste Bartholdi to design it. The sculptor, in turn, enlisted engineer Gustav Eiffel, years before he built the Eiffel Tower, to devise a framework that could withstand the winds of New York Harbor. What is less known is that early models of the statue gave greater prominence to what the abolitionists intended the statue to represent. Renderings from the 1870s show that Bartholdi envisioned the statue holding broken chains in her left hand. The Frenchmen used those images to seek U.S support for the pedestal the statue needed— just as the country was moving away from the lessons of the Civil War and headed toward Jim Crow. By the time the statue was dedicated in 1886, the broken chains and shackle that the sculptor originally intended had been replaced with a tablet inscribed “July IV MDCCLXXVI” (July 4, 1776), the date we commemorate today. Bartholdi managed to keep this original element in a less visible location: He placed a shackle and two broken chains at the Statue of Liberty’s feet. Thus the statue, humbling and magnificent, is a study in contradictions — a woman of classical European form conceived in the aftermath of the American Civil War, erected on a pedestal on the eve of Jim Crow, when women and Black citizens had few rights and with the very spark that led to her creation — the end of slavery — virtually hidden in the chains beneath the robes at her feet. How interwoven we are as a nation.
Few symbols of America are as iconic and instantly recognizable as the Statue of Liberty, and yet many Americans may not know of its origins and connection — like so much of American history — to slavery and the Civil War. The statue was conceived by a French abolitionist who had been watching from across the Atlantic as the Union fought the Confederacy in the costliest war on American soil. After the Union won and ended slavery in 1865, the president of the French Anti-Slavery Society, Edouard Laboulaye, proposed a colossal monument as a gift to the United States from the people of France to celebrate the U.S. centennial and the triumph of freedom that the Union victory represented. The abolitionist enlisted sculptor Frederic-Auguste Bartholdi to design it. The sculptor, in turn, enlisted engineer Gustav Eiffel, years before he built the Eiffel Tower, to devise a framework that could withstand the winds of New York Harbor. What is less known is that early models of the statue gave greater prominence to what the abolitionists intended the statue to represent. Renderings from the 1870s show that Bartholdi envisioned the statue holding broken chains in her left hand. The Frenchmen used those images to seek U.S support for the pedestal the statue needed— just as the country was moving away from the lessons of the Civil War and headed toward Jim Crow. By the time the statue was dedicated in 1886, the broken chains and shackle that the sculptor originally intended had been replaced with a tablet inscribed “July IV MDCCLXXVI” (July 4, 1776), the date we commemorate today. Bartholdi managed to keep this original element in a less visible location: He placed a shackle and two broken chains at the Statue of Liberty’s feet. Thus the statue, humbling and magnificent, is a study in contradictions — a woman of classical European form conceived in the aftermath of the American Civil War, erected on a pedestal on the eve of Jim Crow, when women and Black citizens had few rights and with the very spark that led to her creation — the end of slavery — virtually hidden in the chains beneath the robes at her feet. How interwoven we are as a nation.
Few symbols of America are as iconic and instantly recognizable as the Statue of Liberty, and yet many Americans may not know of its origins and connection — like so much of American history — to slavery and the Civil War. The statue was conceived by a French abolitionist who had been watching from across the Atlantic as the Union fought the Confederacy in the costliest war on American soil. After the Union won and ended slavery in 1865, the president of the French Anti-Slavery Society, Edouard Laboulaye, proposed a colossal monument as a gift to the United States from the people of France to celebrate the U.S. centennial and the triumph of freedom that the Union victory represented. The abolitionist enlisted sculptor Frederic-Auguste Bartholdi to design it. The sculptor, in turn, enlisted engineer Gustav Eiffel, years before he built the Eiffel Tower, to devise a framework that could withstand the winds of New York Harbor. What is less known is that early models of the statue gave greater prominence to what the abolitionists intended the statue to represent. Renderings from the 1870s show that Bartholdi envisioned the statue holding broken chains in her left hand. The Frenchmen used those images to seek U.S support for the pedestal the statue needed— just as the country was moving away from the lessons of the Civil War and headed toward Jim Crow. By the time the statue was dedicated in 1886, the broken chains and shackle that the sculptor originally intended had been replaced with a tablet inscribed “July IV MDCCLXXVI” (July 4, 1776), the date we commemorate today. Bartholdi managed to keep this original element in a less visible location: He placed a shackle and two broken chains at the Statue of Liberty’s feet. Thus the statue, humbling and magnificent, is a study in contradictions — a woman of classical European form conceived in the aftermath of the American Civil War, erected on a pedestal on the eve of Jim Crow, when women and Black citizens had few rights and with the very spark that led to her creation — the end of slavery — virtually hidden in the chains beneath the robes at her feet. How interwoven we are as a nation.
Few symbols of America are as iconic and instantly recognizable as the Statue of Liberty, and yet many Americans may not know of its origins and connection — like so much of American history — to slavery and the Civil War. The statue was conceived by a French abolitionist who had been watching from across the Atlantic as the Union fought the Confederacy in the costliest war on American soil. After the Union won and ended slavery in 1865, the president of the French Anti-Slavery Society, Edouard Laboulaye, proposed a colossal monument as a gift to the United States from the people of France to celebrate the U.S. centennial and the triumph of freedom that the Union victory represented. The abolitionist enlisted sculptor Frederic-Auguste Bartholdi to design it. The sculptor, in turn, enlisted engineer Gustav Eiffel, years before he built the Eiffel Tower, to devise a framework that could withstand the winds of New York Harbor. What is less known is that early models of the statue gave greater prominence to what the abolitionists intended the statue to represent. Renderings from the 1870s show that Bartholdi envisioned the statue holding broken chains in her left hand. The Frenchmen used those images to seek U.S support for the pedestal the statue needed— just as the country was moving away from the lessons of the Civil War and headed toward Jim Crow. By the time the statue was dedicated in 1886, the broken chains and shackle that the sculptor originally intended had been replaced with a tablet inscribed “July IV MDCCLXXVI” (July 4, 1776), the date we commemorate today. Bartholdi managed to keep this original element in a less visible location: He placed a shackle and two broken chains at the Statue of Liberty’s feet. Thus the statue, humbling and magnificent, is a study in contradictions — a woman of classical European form conceived in the aftermath of the American Civil War, erected on a pedestal on the eve of Jim Crow, when women and Black citizens had few rights and with the very spark that led to her creation — the end of slavery — virtually hidden in the chains beneath the robes at her feet. How interwoven we are as a nation.
Few symbols of America are as iconic and instantly recognizable as the Statue of Liberty, and yet many Americans may not know of its origins and connection — like so much of American history — to slavery and the Civil War. The statue was conceived by a French abolitionist who had been watching from across the Atlantic as the Union fought the Confederacy in the costliest war on American soil. After the Union won and ended slavery in 1865, the president of the French Anti-Slavery Society, Edouard Laboulaye, proposed a colossal monument as a gift to the United States from the people of France to celebrate the U.S. centennial and the triumph of freedom that the Union victory represented. The abolitionist enlisted sculptor Frederic-Auguste Bartholdi to design it. The sculptor, in turn, enlisted engineer Gustav Eiffel, years before he built the Eiffel Tower, to devise a framework that could withstand the winds of New York Harbor. What is less known is that early models of the statue gave greater prominence to what the abolitionists intended the statue to represent. Renderings from the 1870s show that Bartholdi envisioned the statue holding broken chains in her left hand. The Frenchmen used those images to seek U.S support for the pedestal the statue needed— just as the country was moving away from the lessons of the Civil War and headed toward Jim Crow. By the time the statue was dedicated in 1886, the broken chains and shackle that the sculptor originally intended had been replaced with a tablet inscribed “July IV MDCCLXXVI” (July 4, 1776), the date we commemorate today. Bartholdi managed to keep this original element in a less visible location: He placed a shackle and two broken chains at the Statue of Liberty’s feet. Thus the statue, humbling and magnificent, is a study in contradictions — a woman of classical European form conceived in the aftermath of the American Civil War, erected on a pedestal on the eve of Jim Crow, when women and Black citizens had few rights and with the very spark that led to her creation — the end of slavery — virtually hidden in the chains beneath the robes at her feet. How interwoven we are as a nation.
Ecstatic at the news that the Los Angeles Times has named The Warmth of Other Suns to its list of the 30 Best Nonfiction Books of the Last 30 Years, ranking it No. 1. Honored to be in the company of so many authors whose work I have admired — from Joan Didion and Ta-Nehisi Coates, to Erik Larson and Michelle Alexander, to Jesmyn Ward and Stephen King. More than anything, I am thrilled that this further trains a light on the Great Migration, on the courage of the six million souls who acted upon their dreams and on the indelible mark this leaderless movement left on this country and the world. Here are but a few of the children of the Great Migration who reshaped an entire sphere of our society — the music we listen to. Jazz, Motown, R&B, Hip-Hop and the Blues (which inspired rock ‘n’ roll) are quintessentially American creations that grew out of the transfer of black culture from the South to the North during the Great Migration. Many household names — like Diana Ross (AL to Detroit) and Prince (LA to Minneapolis) — might not have existed had their parents not fled Jim Crow and married people they would otherwise not have met. Some artists, like Muddy Waters (MS to Chicago), left the South themselves. Others went north with their parents — like Ella Fitzgerald (VA to Yonkers, NY), Thelonious Monk (NC to NYC), Aretha Franklin (TN to Detroit), and Martha Reeves and the Vandellas (AL to Detroit), whose 1964 song “Dancing in the Street” became an anthem of the Great Migration. It infectiously celebrates the receiving stations of the Migration: “Philadelphia, P-A….Baltimore and D-C now…. Can’t forget the Motor City….” It is hard, and it is humbling, to even try to imagine a world without their having graced this planet. Grateful to the Los Angeles Times for including the book on this list and to every single reader of The Warmth of Other Suns.
Ecstatic at the news that the Los Angeles Times has named The Warmth of Other Suns to its list of the 30 Best Nonfiction Books of the Last 30 Years, ranking it No. 1. Honored to be in the company of so many authors whose work I have admired — from Joan Didion and Ta-Nehisi Coates, to Erik Larson and Michelle Alexander, to Jesmyn Ward and Stephen King. More than anything, I am thrilled that this further trains a light on the Great Migration, on the courage of the six million souls who acted upon their dreams and on the indelible mark this leaderless movement left on this country and the world. Here are but a few of the children of the Great Migration who reshaped an entire sphere of our society — the music we listen to. Jazz, Motown, R&B, Hip-Hop and the Blues (which inspired rock ‘n’ roll) are quintessentially American creations that grew out of the transfer of black culture from the South to the North during the Great Migration. Many household names — like Diana Ross (AL to Detroit) and Prince (LA to Minneapolis) — might not have existed had their parents not fled Jim Crow and married people they would otherwise not have met. Some artists, like Muddy Waters (MS to Chicago), left the South themselves. Others went north with their parents — like Ella Fitzgerald (VA to Yonkers, NY), Thelonious Monk (NC to NYC), Aretha Franklin (TN to Detroit), and Martha Reeves and the Vandellas (AL to Detroit), whose 1964 song “Dancing in the Street” became an anthem of the Great Migration. It infectiously celebrates the receiving stations of the Migration: “Philadelphia, P-A….Baltimore and D-C now…. Can’t forget the Motor City….” It is hard, and it is humbling, to even try to imagine a world without their having graced this planet. Grateful to the Los Angeles Times for including the book on this list and to every single reader of The Warmth of Other Suns.
Ecstatic at the news that the Los Angeles Times has named The Warmth of Other Suns to its list of the 30 Best Nonfiction Books of the Last 30 Years, ranking it No. 1. Honored to be in the company of so many authors whose work I have admired — from Joan Didion and Ta-Nehisi Coates, to Erik Larson and Michelle Alexander, to Jesmyn Ward and Stephen King. More than anything, I am thrilled that this further trains a light on the Great Migration, on the courage of the six million souls who acted upon their dreams and on the indelible mark this leaderless movement left on this country and the world. Here are but a few of the children of the Great Migration who reshaped an entire sphere of our society — the music we listen to. Jazz, Motown, R&B, Hip-Hop and the Blues (which inspired rock ‘n’ roll) are quintessentially American creations that grew out of the transfer of black culture from the South to the North during the Great Migration. Many household names — like Diana Ross (AL to Detroit) and Prince (LA to Minneapolis) — might not have existed had their parents not fled Jim Crow and married people they would otherwise not have met. Some artists, like Muddy Waters (MS to Chicago), left the South themselves. Others went north with their parents — like Ella Fitzgerald (VA to Yonkers, NY), Thelonious Monk (NC to NYC), Aretha Franklin (TN to Detroit), and Martha Reeves and the Vandellas (AL to Detroit), whose 1964 song “Dancing in the Street” became an anthem of the Great Migration. It infectiously celebrates the receiving stations of the Migration: “Philadelphia, P-A….Baltimore and D-C now…. Can’t forget the Motor City….” It is hard, and it is humbling, to even try to imagine a world without their having graced this planet. Grateful to the Los Angeles Times for including the book on this list and to every single reader of The Warmth of Other Suns.
Ecstatic at the news that the Los Angeles Times has named The Warmth of Other Suns to its list of the 30 Best Nonfiction Books of the Last 30 Years, ranking it No. 1. Honored to be in the company of so many authors whose work I have admired — from Joan Didion and Ta-Nehisi Coates, to Erik Larson and Michelle Alexander, to Jesmyn Ward and Stephen King. More than anything, I am thrilled that this further trains a light on the Great Migration, on the courage of the six million souls who acted upon their dreams and on the indelible mark this leaderless movement left on this country and the world. Here are but a few of the children of the Great Migration who reshaped an entire sphere of our society — the music we listen to. Jazz, Motown, R&B, Hip-Hop and the Blues (which inspired rock ‘n’ roll) are quintessentially American creations that grew out of the transfer of black culture from the South to the North during the Great Migration. Many household names — like Diana Ross (AL to Detroit) and Prince (LA to Minneapolis) — might not have existed had their parents not fled Jim Crow and married people they would otherwise not have met. Some artists, like Muddy Waters (MS to Chicago), left the South themselves. Others went north with their parents — like Ella Fitzgerald (VA to Yonkers, NY), Thelonious Monk (NC to NYC), Aretha Franklin (TN to Detroit), and Martha Reeves and the Vandellas (AL to Detroit), whose 1964 song “Dancing in the Street” became an anthem of the Great Migration. It infectiously celebrates the receiving stations of the Migration: “Philadelphia, P-A….Baltimore and D-C now…. Can’t forget the Motor City….” It is hard, and it is humbling, to even try to imagine a world without their having graced this planet. Grateful to the Los Angeles Times for including the book on this list and to every single reader of The Warmth of Other Suns.
Ecstatic at the news that the Los Angeles Times has named The Warmth of Other Suns to its list of the 30 Best Nonfiction Books of the Last 30 Years, ranking it No. 1. Honored to be in the company of so many authors whose work I have admired — from Joan Didion and Ta-Nehisi Coates, to Erik Larson and Michelle Alexander, to Jesmyn Ward and Stephen King. More than anything, I am thrilled that this further trains a light on the Great Migration, on the courage of the six million souls who acted upon their dreams and on the indelible mark this leaderless movement left on this country and the world. Here are but a few of the children of the Great Migration who reshaped an entire sphere of our society — the music we listen to. Jazz, Motown, R&B, Hip-Hop and the Blues (which inspired rock ‘n’ roll) are quintessentially American creations that grew out of the transfer of black culture from the South to the North during the Great Migration. Many household names — like Diana Ross (AL to Detroit) and Prince (LA to Minneapolis) — might not have existed had their parents not fled Jim Crow and married people they would otherwise not have met. Some artists, like Muddy Waters (MS to Chicago), left the South themselves. Others went north with their parents — like Ella Fitzgerald (VA to Yonkers, NY), Thelonious Monk (NC to NYC), Aretha Franklin (TN to Detroit), and Martha Reeves and the Vandellas (AL to Detroit), whose 1964 song “Dancing in the Street” became an anthem of the Great Migration. It infectiously celebrates the receiving stations of the Migration: “Philadelphia, P-A….Baltimore and D-C now…. Can’t forget the Motor City….” It is hard, and it is humbling, to even try to imagine a world without their having graced this planet. Grateful to the Los Angeles Times for including the book on this list and to every single reader of The Warmth of Other Suns.
Ecstatic at the news that the Los Angeles Times has named The Warmth of Other Suns to its list of the 30 Best Nonfiction Books of the Last 30 Years, ranking it No. 1. Honored to be in the company of so many authors whose work I have admired — from Joan Didion and Ta-Nehisi Coates, to Erik Larson and Michelle Alexander, to Jesmyn Ward and Stephen King. More than anything, I am thrilled that this further trains a light on the Great Migration, on the courage of the six million souls who acted upon their dreams and on the indelible mark this leaderless movement left on this country and the world. Here are but a few of the children of the Great Migration who reshaped an entire sphere of our society — the music we listen to. Jazz, Motown, R&B, Hip-Hop and the Blues (which inspired rock ‘n’ roll) are quintessentially American creations that grew out of the transfer of black culture from the South to the North during the Great Migration. Many household names — like Diana Ross (AL to Detroit) and Prince (LA to Minneapolis) — might not have existed had their parents not fled Jim Crow and married people they would otherwise not have met. Some artists, like Muddy Waters (MS to Chicago), left the South themselves. Others went north with their parents — like Ella Fitzgerald (VA to Yonkers, NY), Thelonious Monk (NC to NYC), Aretha Franklin (TN to Detroit), and Martha Reeves and the Vandellas (AL to Detroit), whose 1964 song “Dancing in the Street” became an anthem of the Great Migration. It infectiously celebrates the receiving stations of the Migration: “Philadelphia, P-A….Baltimore and D-C now…. Can’t forget the Motor City….” It is hard, and it is humbling, to even try to imagine a world without their having graced this planet. Grateful to the Los Angeles Times for including the book on this list and to every single reader of The Warmth of Other Suns.
Ecstatic at the news that the Los Angeles Times has named The Warmth of Other Suns to its list of the 30 Best Nonfiction Books of the Last 30 Years, ranking it No. 1. Honored to be in the company of so many authors whose work I have admired — from Joan Didion and Ta-Nehisi Coates, to Erik Larson and Michelle Alexander, to Jesmyn Ward and Stephen King. More than anything, I am thrilled that this further trains a light on the Great Migration, on the courage of the six million souls who acted upon their dreams and on the indelible mark this leaderless movement left on this country and the world. Here are but a few of the children of the Great Migration who reshaped an entire sphere of our society — the music we listen to. Jazz, Motown, R&B, Hip-Hop and the Blues (which inspired rock ‘n’ roll) are quintessentially American creations that grew out of the transfer of black culture from the South to the North during the Great Migration. Many household names — like Diana Ross (AL to Detroit) and Prince (LA to Minneapolis) — might not have existed had their parents not fled Jim Crow and married people they would otherwise not have met. Some artists, like Muddy Waters (MS to Chicago), left the South themselves. Others went north with their parents — like Ella Fitzgerald (VA to Yonkers, NY), Thelonious Monk (NC to NYC), Aretha Franklin (TN to Detroit), and Martha Reeves and the Vandellas (AL to Detroit), whose 1964 song “Dancing in the Street” became an anthem of the Great Migration. It infectiously celebrates the receiving stations of the Migration: “Philadelphia, P-A….Baltimore and D-C now…. Can’t forget the Motor City….” It is hard, and it is humbling, to even try to imagine a world without their having graced this planet. Grateful to the Los Angeles Times for including the book on this list and to every single reader of The Warmth of Other Suns.
