While Walter Johnson’s Soul by Soul, Stephanie Camp’s The Pleasure of Resistance article, and the selected readings from Peter Kolchin’s American Slavery, vary in vantage point, they all lend themselves to a discussion surrounding slavery and the overarching theme of identity. Through a close examination of the sources, readers can see that the institution was more than a means of labor, it was a source of identity for slaves and whites alike.
From the moment a man, woman, or child fell victim to the slave trade, their identity was decided less by their personal experience and more by their slave experience. The Chattel Principle, explained in Chapter One of Soul by Soul, holds that “any slave’s identity might be disrupted as easily as a price could be set and a piece of paper passed from one hand to another.”[1] The principle argues that a slave’s personal identity could immediately change as their master negotiated for their sale or signed them away to another owner. Under this principle, the slaves lacked any sense of static identity, and were easily reduced to items. This process of commodification was key in the southern slave market, where even children were trained to see themselves as property rather than people.[2] Johnson writes that “the entire economy of the antebellum South was constructed upon the idea that the bodies of enslaved people had measurable monetary value.”[3] With this, Johnson suggests that a slave’s identity was determined by their price, not by their culture, language, or personality. In an attempt to maintain their humanity, slaves in the pens would often share their stories and words of advice.[4] Through conversation, the slaves made acquaintances and eventually built lasting social bonds.[5] With these relationships, came a sense of community that “could sustain the slaves emotionally and help them to circulate important knowledge about the trade.”[6] Johnson implies that these connections were a way for the slaves to establish an identity outside of slavery.
It is in The Pleasure of Resistance source that one can see a unique slave identity, detached from the institution itself, come to life. When slaves formed relationships with one another and banded together in small communities, they opened the door to a new side of the slave experience. In the antebellum South, groups of connected slaves “took flight to nearby woods and swamps for the secret parties they occasionally held at night for themselves.”[7] Within the context of these parties, the slaves were able to take control of their own bodies.[8] They often did so via various modes of self-expression, including praying, dancing, and singing. Camp writes that the gatherings allowed the slaves to forget their hardships and to “give themselves up to the intoxication of pleasurable amusement.”[9] The article explains that the meetings were especially important to the women. In the night, the slave women could embrace their femininity by exchanging their worm down field dresses for outfits made of fine fabrics.[10] Through Camp’s article, one can see that while the fancy clothes and the parties were temporary, they gave the slaves the opportunity to identify with something other than their bondage.
Recent class material revealed that slavery not only shaped black identity, but white identity as well. By the mid-1800s, owning a slave had become less about acquiring labor and more about making a statement. Only if a white man owned a slave, could he claim his place among the respected master class. In Chapter Three of Soul by Soul, Johnson explains that for non-slaveholding white men, “buying a slave was a way of coming into their own in a society in which they were otherwise excluded from full participation.”[11] With this, a slave became the most coveted investment for reasons that “went well beyond the economic.”[12] For a white man in the Deep South, purchasing a slave meant movement from the lowly middle class to the sophisticated, business-minded, master class. From Kolchin, readers learn that owning a slave not only affected a man’s social standing, but it fostered a sense of slave-owner paternalism that contributed to the identity of slaveholding white men.[13] In southern society, the state of a man’s slaves were a direct reflection of his own existence. By taking on a paternal role, the masters could look down on their slaves as they did their own children, and thus, inject themselves into every aspect of their slaves’ lives.[14] In doing this, the slaveholding white males embraced a persona rooted in slavery. Kolchin goes on to explain that those who could not afford to buy a slave were commonly referred to as “‘poor whites,’ ‘hillbillies,’ ‘crackers,’ and ‘rednecks’.”[15] Together, these sources prove that whether a man owned a slave or not, the institution was tied into his identity.
While the men were the ones making the transactions, and publicly declaring ownership over their newfound property, the women were not excluded from the effects of buying a slave. Like their husbands, southern women were “made out of slaves.”[16] Johnson tells the story of a woman named Lucy Stewart, who yearned for a young female slave to take over her duties as woman of the house. Lucy thought that if a slave could “tend to gardening, drawing water, and chopping wood,” she “might be able to transform herself into a proper white lady.”[17] With this, came the rise of the idealistic, gentile southern woman. While the slaves cleaned the house, prepared the meals, and took care of the children, the woman “could skate lightly across the surface of daily exigency, her own composure unscathed by the messy process required to produce the pleasing tableau of her own life.”[18] In other words, if the men could purchase slaves to relieve their wives, the women could dedicate their time to becoming poised “ladies of distinction.”[19] With this, it is evident that slavery influenced the identity of white men as well as women.
It is in The Pleasure of Resistance source that one can see a unique slave identity, detached from the institution itself, come to life. When slaves formed relationships with one another and banded together in small communities, they opened the door to a new side of the slave experience. In the antebellum South, groups of connected slaves “took flight to nearby woods and swamps for the secret parties they occasionally held at night for themselves.”[7] Within the context of these parties, the slaves were able to take control of their own bodies.[8] They often did so via various modes of self-expression, including praying, dancing, and singing. Camp writes that the gatherings allowed the slaves to forget their hardships and to “give themselves up to the intoxication of pleasurable amusement.”[9] The article explains that the meetings were especially important to the women. In the night, the slave women could embrace their femininity by exchanging their worm down field dresses for outfits made of fine fabrics.[10] Through Camp’s article, one can see that while the fancy clothes and the parties were temporary, they gave the slaves the opportunity to identify with something other than their bondage.
Recent class material revealed that slavery not only shaped black identity, but white identity as well. By the mid-1800s, owning a slave had become less about acquiring labor and more about making a statement. Only if a white man owned a slave, could he claim his place among the respected master class. In Chapter Three of Soul by Soul, Johnson explains that for non-slaveholding white men, “buying a slave was a way of coming into their own in a society in which they were otherwise excluded from full participation.”[11] With this, a slave became the most coveted investment for reasons that “went well beyond the economic.”[12] For a white man in the Deep South, purchasing a slave meant movement from the lowly middle class to the sophisticated, business-minded, master class. From Kolchin, readers learn that owning a slave not only affected a man’s social standing, but it fostered a sense of slave-owner paternalism that contributed to the identity of slaveholding white men.[13] In southern society, the state of a man’s slaves were a direct reflection of his own existence. By taking on a paternal role, the masters could look down on their slaves as they did their own children, and thus, inject themselves into every aspect of their slaves’ lives.[14] In doing this, the slaveholding white males embraced a persona rooted in slavery. Kolchin goes on to explain that those who could not afford to buy a slave were commonly referred to as “‘poor whites,’ ‘hillbillies,’ ‘crackers,’ and ‘rednecks’.”[15] Together, these sources prove that whether a man owned a slave or not, the institution was tied into his identity.
While the men were the ones making the transactions, and publicly declaring ownership over their newfound property, the women were not excluded from the effects of buying a slave. Like their husbands, southern women were “made out of slaves.”[16] Johnson tells the story of a woman named Lucy Stewart, who yearned for a young female slave to take over her duties as woman of the house. Lucy thought that if a slave could “tend to gardening, drawing water, and chopping wood,” she “might be able to transform herself into a proper white lady.”[17] With this, came the rise of the idealistic, gentile southern woman. While the slaves cleaned the house, prepared the meals, and took care of the children, the woman “could skate lightly across the surface of daily exigency, her own composure unscathed by the messy process required to produce the pleasing tableau of her own life.”[18] In other words, if the men could purchase slaves to relieve their wives, the women could dedicate their time to becoming poised “ladies of distinction.”[19] With this, it is evident that slavery influenced the identity of white men as well as women.
Contrary to popular belief, those
forced into labor were not the only ones personally affected by slavery, rather,
the implications were far-reaching. The identities of slaves, as well as whites,
slaveholding and non-slaveholding, were shaped by slavery. By considering
excerpts from Soul by Soul, The Pleasure
of Resistance, and American Slavery
audiences can gain a better understanding of the ways slavery informed the
identities of not only slaves, but of all those who came in contact with the
institution.
No comments:
Post a Comment