Post 2--The Bellevue-Oxford Ferry: The Stories We Choose to Preserve

   By: Brianna Baker

        On the morning of July 5^th, the first day of the field school, I tiptoed past my roommates and out of the house to take a brisk walk to the Bellevue-Oxford Ferry. I thought I would do so every morning, but alas, the rigors of the field school prevented me from enjoying the early morning atmosphere of Bellevue. I walked up Bellevue Road, with its imposing and well-kept oaks lining either side of the street and was reminded of my readings of plantation layouts: how they were built along the waters so that the human and agricultural cargo could be shipped and sold conveniently, and how the long, tree-lined plantation entryways were designed to strike a foreboding fear and intimidation in the hearts of all who approached.  I felt the same emotions when I visited several plantations with the field school. Of course, these antebellum driveways served practical purposes for privacy and security, but the psycho-social message they sent cannot be ignored.

        This passageway transitioned the free to a turf where the authority of the family, but particularly, the man up ahead must be heeded and respected. It also reminded the enslaved that everything they beheld did not belong to them. It didn’t matter if they manicured the trees, toiled over the crops, cooked every meal, nursed the master’s children, and built every home on the plantation. What mattered is that every aspect of their lives, even the architecture of the plantation, reinforced the inferiority and enslavement of the black and upheld the authority and superiority of the white. I learned that enslaved men were forced to build elaborate mansions and furniture for the people who owned him, for the children who would one day own his own. Yet, these same men were forced to build their own homes with ceilings too low for him to hold his head high, so small that children slept in the attic, and a home that offered no protection for women and girls against the advances of their enslaver. Plantations were designed to remind the enslaved that they were property, and that the land they tended would never belong to them. I can confirm that they still do not belong to the descendants of the enslaved. Pumping my arms and pacing towards the ferry, I wondered of the history this landscape could tell. 

        Lastly, I walked along a paved area that ran adjacent to the Bellevue-Oxford ferry and thought of a story I heard the day before at the Water’s Edge Museum 4^th of July celebration. A slave ship approached the ferry centuries ago with its human cargo—stolen from Africa. As they herded the survivors onto the dock, one woman, strong enough to survive the journey on behalf of herself and her unborn child, gave birth right there on the dock. The two themes that continue to define African American history are persecution and survival. Both are evident in every historical site of black history, but the sites that perpetuated black persecution generally receive more funding and protection compared to those that perpetuated black survival. These politics of historic preservation are erasing the history of African American success and freedom. It is well-established that Bellevue is a sight of black excellence and independence, but few know of the latest danger threatening the very existence of Bellevue. Read my last blog post to find out what is happening and how you can help.

To learn more and support the people of Bellevue and their partners, please visit the following:

Bellevue Passage Museum: https://bellevuepassagemuseum.org/

Water's Edge Museum: https://www.watersedgemuseum.org/

"Black Life in Bellevue" Field School: https://www.washcoll.edu/learn-by-doing/ces/black-life-bellevue.php