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Category: Lemon Project Team

The Lemon Project’s Summer 2024 Impact

By Jajuan S. Johnson, Ph.D.

The Lemon Project team and their community of supporters in Williamsburg and beyond hosted two dynamic summer programs—the Summer Sankofa Genealogy Workshop Series and the Lemon’s Learners Black History Matters Summer Camp. Jajuan Johnson, the Lemon Project Mellon Foundation Postdoctoral Fellow, and Highland’s fellow, Mariaelena DiBenigno, also concluded their appointments with the exhibition “Sharing Authority 2020-2024.” The exhibit showcases their practice with William & Mary students, faculty, staff, and descendant communities and offers a model of doing public history with multiple collaborators. These projects build on the Lemon Project’s mission to “build bridges between William & Mary and African American communities through research, programming, and supporting students, faculty, and staff.”

Lemon’s Learners Black History Matters Camp

Nearly twenty middle school students participated in the 2024 Lemon’s Learners Black History Matters Summer Camp. The team collaborated with the Robert Frederick Smith Explore Your Family History Center at the National Museum of African American History & Culture (NMAAHC). Ori Yarborough and Sterling Warren, Applied Public History Fellows at the NMAAHC, guided students in learning oral history best practices.

In addition to an immersion in local Black history at the W&M Libraries Special Collections Research Center, the learners conducted video interviews with Williamsburg community members Mary Lassiter, Colette Roots, and Johnette Gordon Weaver about their experiences of growing up in Williamsburg. The camp concluded at Hearth: Memorial to the Enslaved with a celebration amongst family and friends for their two-day accomplishments. Jody Allen and Jajuan Johnson donned the program graduates with Kente stoles and commissioned them to seek historical facts on Black history and to share the knowledge.

Summer Sankofa Genealogy Workshop Series

The fourth Summer Sankofa Genealogy Workshop Series drew family historians from across the United States for the virtual meetings. Internationally recognized genealogist Nicka Sewell Smith kicked off the series with the presentation, “We Weren’t Taught How to Smile,” a story of a Black family from the Mississippi Delta who emerged from enslavement by the family of President Andrew Jackson and moved to the front lines of the civil rights movement of the 1960s.       

Tasked with finding descendants of sixteen enslaved persons sold by the Trustees of Wake Forest Institute (now University), genealogist Renate Yarborough Sanders presented updates and breakthroughs on genealogical research tied to Wake Forest University’s Slavery, Race, and Memory Project. In “Finding Joseph’s Family: A Model Case of Using Reverse Genealogy to Piece Together a Family Puzzle,” Renate shared the steps that she took and the resources that she used to uncover the afterlife of one family line, bringing its legacy forward from slavery into the mid-twentieth century, one record at a time.

Transforming Oral History into Documentation: The Early County Massacre,” with genealogist Orice Jenkins, is about history, memory, racial violence, and the process of finding the facts about a 1915 mass lynching in Early County, Georgia. Jenkins presented compelling research and guided attendees on the often tedious process of corroborating oral histories and interrogating historical documents, such as newspapers, court documents, and census reports.

The series was successful because participants were dedicated to honing family history research skills. You can view past genealogical workshops on the Lemon Project YouTube channel.

Sharing Authority at 5 Years: 2019-2024 Exhibition at the Sadler Center  

As the Mellon Foundation-funded Sharing Authority to Remember and Re-Interpret the Past ended in July, postdoctoral fellows Mariaelena DiBenigno and Jajuan Johnson shared the grant’s ongoing work with the W&M community. Using the topics of teaching, scholarship, and community engagement, they designed and installed a temporary panel exhibit for the central part of the campus. In February 2024, the six-panel exhibit “Sharing Authority at 5 Years: 2019-2024” opened in W&M’s Sadler Center. It included community and university voices and took a future-forward approach. Though the grant cycle came to a close, the university and its partners continue to address the “legacies of slavery at research universities and historic sites.” As one of the partners, the Lemon Project appreciates the support of on- and off-campus supporters who ensured the success of the Mellon-funded initiative.

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A New Perspective: Researching Twentieth-Century Documents

By Sierra Manja, research intern to Dr. Jajuan Johnson, Lemon Project Mellon Foundation Postdoctoral Research Associate

What do you do when your archival research reaches a supposed dead end? This is a natural occurrence in the search for eighteenth-century names, families, neighborhoods, and homes of the enslaved. Getting burnt out doesn’t always require a complete break from your work. Instead, I believe, a redirection. A redirection calls for broadening the historical context towards a respective area of study. As a second-year student assistant at William & Mary Swem Libraries Special Collections Research Center, I have learned about the diversity within historic collections. With this, I have gained an appreciation for more diverse collections, such as the Bursar Records’ comprehensive chronology and oral histories, for their distinct subjectivity.

This semester, my research on early twentieth-century Bursar Records and oral histories has furthered our narratives of eighteenth-century individuals. Through Bursar Records, Dr. Johnson and I sought to construct a narrative of African Americans’ involvement on the William & Mary campus following Emancipation. In investigating the Office of the Bursar Records from the University Archives, I was to consider various factors highlighting the individuals involved in the given transaction. My attention narrowed to the ninth box of the collection, and my present findings are attributed to the twentieth folder. I first noted the payee; I considered their role within the university administration. Payment recipient(s) as individuals require the consideration of their name within African American tradition and our pre-existing narrative. Yet, most payments within individual folders were made to companies related to the University. I did not discard this and considered the possibility of the company’s history with African American employment or a strict lack thereof.

In our second week of research, I addressed a folder from 1903 [1]. I shifted through endless payments from the school to companies such as Standard Oil Company, C.W Antrim & Sons, J.B.C Spencer & Brothers, R.T Casey & Sons, and L.W Lane & Sons. R.L. Spencer signed these checks as the steward, and the president’s signature remained absent. Only one check included the president’s signature. This caught my attention as it appeared to indicate a change in transaction relations.

On March 6th, 1903, a check signed by the University president, Lyon G. Tyler, was addressed to the “washerwomen of College Hotel” [1]. The College Hotel was used as a dorm in 1860 and was renamed Ewell Hall in 1894 [2]. Ten women were listed, as well as their corresponding work and payment. Payments ranged from $3.75 for five bags and $8.25 for eleven bags. In total, the check amounted to $51.75. With the first and last names of the ten “washerwomen,” I began researching their lineage with Ancestry. My goal was to find associated names and place the “washerwomen” within the Williamsburg context. I looked for children, spouses, and neighbors. I sought out parents’ names, searching for any indication of transgenerational labor at the University.  The possibility of this is demonstrated in Lucy Cheesmen, the fifth name listed on the Bursar check. Lucy Cheesmen washed eight badges and received $15 for her work. Lucy Cheesmen was born Lucy Burrell. The Burrell family is noted in the 1870 census as having the occupations of “farm laborer” and “keeping house” [3]. Lucy continued to maintain the university following emancipation at a low salary and with comparable tasks.

Moving chronologically in my research, I entered the latter half of the twentieth century with the James City County Oral History Collection [4]. The collection was highly organized, with indices listing the oral history participants and reported subjects, including “black/white relations,” “civil war,” and “Ewell.” The transcripts of the oral interviews began by listing the individual’s familial and professional history. This allowed one to note a family history of employment with the University. The interviews demonstrated the effects of a persistent racial divide in the Historic Triangle. When asked what the community’s most significant change has been since being there, Alleyne Blayton elaborated on the presence of black families on Duke of Gloucester. Blayton states that race has not changed, as “Williamsburg still has a long way to go in supplying equal opportunities for minority people.”

The twentieth-century material within early Bursar records and the late oral histories demonstrates how the African American community continued to contribute to the local makeup in the post-Emancipation period. The new perspective of twentieth-century documents allows the modern audience to better conceptualize the relative recentness of institutional oppression in Williamsburg. I felt more connected to the historical process of researching the twentieth century. I gained an increased sense of empathy in seeing the continued historical effects of enslavement at William & Mary.

[1] Office of the Bursar Records, Special Collections Research Center, Earl Gregg Swem Library, College of William and Mary.

[2] “Ewell Hall Dormitory.” n.d. Special Collections Knowledgebase. https://scrc-kb.libraries.wm.edu/ewell-hall-dormitory.

[3] 1870 United States Federal Census. Census Place: Bruton, York, Virginia; Roll: M593_1682; Page: 537B. https://www.ancestry.com/stories/public/connections?gender=female&firstname=Lucy&lastname=Cheesmen&birthlocation=Williamsburg,%20Virginia,%20USA&birthlocationid=24297&campaign=8b78cd49-faa2-40fe-8603-ce282d3013e1&matchfirstname=Lucille&matchlastname=Cheesman&matchdates=1906-1920&storyid=059366bf-8957-4358-85e5-c5d898db20b8

[4] James City County Oral History Collection, Special Collections Research Center, Swem Library, College of William and Mary.

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Virginia’s Racial Integrity Act of 1924

By Monet Watson, Anthropology Graduate Assistant, 2023-2024

In the early twentieth century, Virginia was a hotbed of racial tension, and the state’s legislature enacted the Racial Integrity Act of 1924, a piece of legislation that left a profound and enduring impact on the racial landscape of Virginia. This blog post will delve into the history, intent, and consequences of the Racial Integrity Act, shedding light on a dark chapter in Virginia’s history. While introducing a particulate interesting segment of history that continues to muddle the understanding of race, even today. Rewriting racial categories makes it challenging to pinpoint individuals who are of interest to the Lemon Project or simply lived in an undefined category that was flattened and homogenized under sweeping rulings, such as the Racial Integrity Act of 1924.

The early twentieth century was marked by racial prejudice and discrimination in the United States. Virginia, like many other states, had a long history of racial inequality, dating back to the days of slavery and Jim Crow laws. The racial landscape of the state was further complicated by the so-called “one-drop rule,” which considered anyone with even a single drop of African ancestry to be a Black person. Virginia, however, was interested in preserving what it deemed to be “racial purity.”

The Racial Integrity Act of 1924

The Racial Integrity Act, passed by the Virginia General Assembly in 1924, sought to codify the state’s vision of racial purity and prevent interracial marriage. It had two primary components:

  • Racial Classification: The act classified Virginians into two categories – “White” and “Colored.” Individuals were required to identify themselves as one or the other, and any person with any trace of African or “colored” ancestry was to be classified as “Colored.”
  • Prohibition of Interracial Marriage: The act made it illegal for individuals to marry someone of a different race. Any interracial marriage that occurred outside of Virginia was also declared void within the state.

Impact and Consequences

The Racial Integrity Act had significant and long-lasting effects:

  • Perpetuating Racial Discrimination: By rigidly defining race and codifying racial segregation, the law reinforced the racial divisions and discrimination already present in Virginia.
  • Forced Racial Identification: The act placed the burden on individuals to classify themselves based on the state’s narrow definitions of race, often leading to complex and painful personal decisions.
  • Family Disruption: Families with diverse racial backgrounds were torn apart as they were forced to conform to the state’s definitions of race, causing heartache and separation.
  • Challenges to Personal Freedom: The act violated individual rights and autonomy by interfering in personal choices, including whom to marry.

Legacy and Repeal

The Racial Integrity Act of 1924 remained in place for nearly 50 years. In 1967, the U.S. Supreme Court case of Loving v. Virginia declared that all laws prohibiting interracial marriage were unconstitutional. This landmark decision effectively invalidated the Racial Integrity Act and marked a significant step forward in the fight against racial discrimination.

Virginia’s Racial Integrity Act of 1924 is a stark reminder of the commonwealth’s historical struggles with racial inequality and discrimination. The act’s impact on individuals, families, and communities was profound, and its legacy continues to be felt today. Understanding the history of such laws is essential in the ongoing pursuit of racial justice and equality, as we work to ensure that every individual is treated with respect and dignity, regardless of their racial background.

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Virginia’s History and Race-Based Slavery

By Monet Watson, Anthropology Graduate Assistant 2023-2024

The history of Virginia in the 1700s to 1900s is deeply intertwined with the complex concept of race. The state, one of the original thirteen American colonies, played a significant role in shaping the United States and its evolution in race relations is a microcosm of the broader national struggle. The concept of race, as we understand it today, did not exist in the same form during the early colonial period. Virginia’s first African enslaved people were brought to Jamestown in 1619. Slavery and the notion of racial difference became increasingly intertwined as the economic system of the colonies grew. The 1700s marked the codification of slavery as a racially based institution, and a system of race-based discrimination began to take root.

Virginia’s economy heavily relied on agriculture, with tobacco as the dominant cash crop. The cultivation of tobacco was labor-intensive, leading to a high demand for enslaved labor. As a result, the institution of slavery in Virginia became firmly entrenched. The enslaved population, primarily of African descent, was subjected to grueling conditions and systemic oppression, which further emphasized racial divisions. This is the context in which William & Mary purchased a farm and grow tobacco in 1718, along with 17 people to work on the plantation. The institutionalized efforts to reinforce and legitimized slavery continued as time progressed.

Legislation and Legalization of Racism

Virginia’s lawmakers passed a series of laws in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries that perpetuated racial divisions and solidified the status of African Americans as slaves. The infamous Virginia Slave Codes of 1705 reinforced the idea that being of African descent automatically meant one was enslaved for life. These laws also imposed harsh penalties for interracial relationships, marriages, and gatherings, further segregating the population along racial lines.

American Revolution and the Paradox of Liberty

The American Revolution introduced the idea of freedom and equality, but the reality for African Americans in Virginia was far from these ideals. Some enslaved individuals found hope in the revolutionary rhetoric, and some even fought in the war, but the post-Revolution period did not bring the desired liberation. Instead, the early nineteenth century saw stricter slave laws and regulations in Virginia, further deepening the racial divide.

Antebellum Period and the Growth of Racial Hierarchies

As the nineteenth century progressed, Virginia’s economy diversified, with more focus on industry and agriculture. The institution of slavery continued to thrive, and racial hierarchies became even more pronounced. Slaveholders and white elites held immense power, while African Americans faced oppression and limited rights.

Civil War and Emancipation

The American Civil War (1861-1865) had a profound impact on race relations in Virginia. While the Confederacy defended slavery as a fundamental institution, the Union Army’s presence and the Emancipation Proclamation (1863) marked significant steps towards the abolition of slavery. After the war, the 13th Amendment (1865) formally ended slavery in the United States, leading to the Emancipation of enslaved African Americans in Virginia and across the nation.

Reconstruction and Jim Crow Era

The period following the Civil War, known as Reconstruction, briefly offered African Americans greater political and civil rights. However, these gains were short-lived, as the rise of the Jim Crow era saw the reinstatement of racial segregation, discrimination, and violence. Virginia, like many other Southern states, implemented policies that disenfranchised African Americans and reinforced racial divisions.

The concept of race in Virginia during the 1700s to 1900s is a complicated, painful, and evolving story. It is a narrative of oppression, resistance, and transformation. While the historical struggles and injustices faced by African Americans in Virginia are undeniable, their resilience and determination have played a pivotal role in shaping the state’s present and future. The Lemon Project works towards reconciliation and to make public the history of African Americans at William & Mary. The legacy of this complicated history continues to influence discussions about race, equality, and justice in Virginia and the United States today. Understanding this history is essential in moving towards a more equitable and inclusive future.

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Celebrating Black History Month in the Archives

Dr. Jajuan Johnson and Sierra Manga, the Lemon Project intern for Spring 2024, are starting Black History Month at William & Mary Libraries’ Special Collections Research Center. They are making major findings on African Americans who worked at William & Mary in the early twentieth century.

For example, Dr. Johnson and Ms. Manga found an invoice to the college from Samuel Harris’s Dry Goods’ Store. Harris was a wealthy African American businessman who lived in Williamsburg in the late 1800s. His store remained open after the 1902 Virginia Constitutional Convention, which disenfranchised African Americans in the commonwealth. Harris died in 1904 and is buried at Cedar Grove Cemetery. We look forward to sharing more findings at the Lemon Project Genealogy Research Roundtable on February 15th at 6 pm.

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My Semester with Dr. Allen: The Intrinsic Benefits of In-Depth Historical Research

by Nicholas Prather, Lemon Project Spring 2023 intern

Booker T. Washington. Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division Washington, D.C. 20540 USA https://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/2016857180/
Front Page Clipping of The Flat Hat, November 17, 1914 (Vol. IV, No. 7)

Over this past semester, I spent two to three hours each week working as a research intern with Lemon Project Director Dr. Jody Allen. During my experience, I learned about the inevitable bumps in the road that come with careful historical research. However, over the four months we spent together, I feel I also came to appreciate those roadblocks and understand their purpose when it comes to discovering something meaningful ̶ something that can change the scope of what we know. When we started working together in the first few weeks of the semester, we initially focused our research on the exploits of nineteenth-century Wiliam & Mary Chemistry Professor Dr. John Millington, specifically his alleged experimentation on Black children in the Williamsburg area through some sort of shock therapy. But, as we sifted through dozens of pages of old correspondence in the Special Collections Reading Room, not to mention pages of nearly incomprehensible cursive that needed deciphering, we learned that it may not be as feasible as we thought to come to any conclusions about Millington, given how much careful close reading it would require. But failure to get immediate results in research, albeit a regularity, is never really a failure – it’s an inherent and important part of the process. After spending a few non-fruitful weeks on Millington, we decided to start looking at the history of illustrious Black educator and speaker Booker T. Washington’s history and relationship with William & Mary. Using Special Collections’ digital archives, I uncovered two separate Flat Hat articles (it’s amazing when your school newspaper is so historic to where it can be a reliable primary source!) that described two separate visits Washington made to the College in 1913 and 1914, just before his death in 1915. Under the presidency of Lyon Gardiner Tyler, both students and faculty were let off from classes to witness Washington’s awesome speeches in the Williamsburg Chapel and Courthouse. After weeks spent devoid of results, it was quite fulfilling to learn that a figure so pivotal to race relations in Gilded Age America had a relationship with the William & Mary administration.

In the end, even though there is still far more that can be wrung out of the research into both Millington and Washington, my semester with Dr. Allen was still a uniquely enriching experience. The growth mindset necessary for productive research can be stunted when we expect to see immediate results. Careful and critical historical research requires patience, precision, and pathos, none of which can be expected mere days or weeks into the process. And when we start thinking of research as steps in an inherently beneficial process that tempers our character and critical thinking alike, regardless of “success” or “failure” (whatever that means), that is when we truly start to see the fruits of our labor manifest themselves in personal and intellectual growth.

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Sharpe Community Scholar’s Reflections on Working with the Lemon Project

By Alexis Beck, William & Mary Sharpe Scholar, with Caroline Watson, Lemon Project Graduate Assistant

Reflecting on my time at The Lemon Project, I can’t help but be amazed at how fun and interesting it has been. The project itself is dedicated to uncovering and preserving lesser-known pieces of history, particularly those concerning the African American communities at William & Mary and in Williamsburg broadly. However, a singular photo captivated my attention and enhanced my experience as a first-year Sharpe Scholar.

During my involvement with The Lemon Project, I worked with Ph.D. student Caroline Watson to learn more about William & Mary’s archaeology documentary archive. During this work, Caroline found an intriguing photo in the Anthropology attic archive. When she had the time, she eagerly showed me this photo, which in physical form lacked proper documentation. There was no description or timestamp. It appeared to be from the early 1930s, possibly even the 1940s, based on the material context clues, like the style of archeology, the tools, the wooden shed, and the Oldsmobile-style car in the background. This photo became a captivating mystery project that Caroline and I embarked on. With further research, we eventually unraveled the mystery behind the photo. We learned that the photo was already well-documented by Colonial Williamsburg. It turned out to be a snapshot of the Governor’s Palace from 1930, featuring a group of unknown Black archaeologists who had worked on the earlier restoration of Colonial Williamsburg. Colonial Williamsburg’s Meredith Poole provides context on the photo here.

This photo piqued my interest because it demonstrated the major contributions made by Black archaeologists at a period when their presence in the field was frequently overlooked, marginalized, or outright erased. Indeed, this snapshot expands on our understanding of the physical and social aspects of archaeological operations in early 20th-century Williamsburg. Yet, some questions haunted us during this process of learning more about the photo. Questions like, “Who are the black men archaeologists depicted here?” and “Was their labor properly compensated and documented?” Moreover, we were left questioning how the context in which we encountered this photo—a standalone image with no description nor label—reproduces silences over these Black laborers, their identities, and their contributions to Williamsburg’s history. Given the blog post referenced above, Colonial Williamsburg has already been asking these questions. Perhaps The Lemon Project can help here, too.

Initially, when I signed up for the internship opportunity provided by Sharpe Scholars, I had anticipated mostly engaging in busy work. However, to my pleasant surprise, my time working alongside Caroline turned out to be thoroughly insightful and an exciting introduction to the roller-coaster that archival work often is. Little did I envision that we would embark on a short but thrilling adventure regarding the mystery photo.

Ultimately, my time at The Lemon Project has been immensely enriching. The identification of the photograph of Black archaeologists at the Governor’s Palace cellar excavation reignited my interest in history and reinforced my willingness to get further involved with the project. I’m delighted to go on new adventures during my next 3 years at W&M and continue to make a difference by researching and sharing long-ignored or forgotten narratives.

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New Lemon Project Research Findings on Slavery at William & Mary

By Dr. Jajuan Johnson, Mellon Postdoctoral Research Associate, The Lemon Project

Over the past two years, the Lemon Project Genealogy Initiative has built alliances with researchers in Williamsburg, the greater Tidewater area, and globally. Through training, our student interns help mine digital platforms and special collections to find extant sources providing more data about the lives of people once enslaved by the university. In fall 2022, Margaret Perry, a W&M alumnus and researcher at Colonial Williamsburg’s’ Apothecary Shop, met with Dr. Jody Allen, Lemon Project intern Alex Montano, and me to share medical account records that list names of people enslaved by William & Mary in the Galt Papers (Galt-Barraud Partnership, 1782-1799; John M. Galt I & Alexander D. Galt Operating as Galt & Son,1800-1808; and Alexander Galt, 1809 – 1841) located in the Special Collections Research Center at Swem Library.   

The Galt Family Medical Practice

The Galt family medical practice lasted in the Williamsburg and Yorktown area from the late eighteenth century through the nineteenth centuries. Dr. John Minson Galt, I was educated at William & Mary and received medical in Edinburgh and Paris. In addition to his extensive independent medical practice, whereby he treated people enslaved by William & Mary and others, Galt I was also an attending physician of the Public Hospital of Williamsburg (currently Eastern State Hospital), the first psychiatric hospital in the United States. His son, Dr. Alexander D. Galt, and grandson of Dr. John M. Galt, carried on his practice; both served as superintendents of the hospital.[i]

The Findings

The Galt-Barraud Papers are the professional and personal papers of the Galt family of Williamsburg in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. The preliminary findings in the medical ledgers, notably the W&M account, revealed the following:

  • The names of 28 people enslaved by W&M
  • Lemon, who the Lemon Project is named after, is listed in the records 19 times from 1785 to 1814, indicating that he experienced health complications over a long period leading to his death.
  • Six people not previously on our list appear in the Galt Papers and have been added to Hearth: Memorial to the Enslaved, as of March 2023
NameDates & Records
Miame1786, 1787, 1788, 1790,1791, 1793,1794, Galt-Barraud Partnership Papers
Miame’s Child1788, 1789,1790,1795, Galt-Barraud Partnership Papers
Jamie1787, Galt Barraud Partnership Papers
1812, Alexander D. Galt Medical Records
Jim1785, Galt-Barraud Partnership Papers
Jimmy1783, Galt-Barraud Partnership Papers
Franky’s Child1787, 1796, 1799, Galt-Barraud Partnership Papers

Our team, which includes Lemon Project intern Lena Bullard, a first-year William & Mary student, is further searching the records to gain clues about enslavers and the people held in bondage. These significant records provide additional information on the physical condition of people enslaved by the university, and there are lists of individuals and families of other enslavers.

MsV 5 – Galt-Barraud Ledger A, 1782-1797, fols. 116, 204. Galt Papers (I), series 3, box 3. Swem SCRC.

[i] Galt Family of Williamsburg Source: The William & Mary Quarterly, Vol. 8, No. 4 (April 1900), pp. 259-262 (also see: W&M Knowledge Base, John Minson Galt, https://scrc-kb.libraries.wm.edu/john-minson-galt-1744-1808; see Dr. Barraud Historical Report https://research.colonialwilliamsburg.org/DigitalLibrary/view/index.cfm?doc=ResearchReports%5CRR1193.xml&highlight=

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The Local Black Histories Project Unveils New Research on a Free Black Community in York County 

by Dr. Jajuan Johnson, Lemon Project Mellon Postdoctoral Fellow

The Lemon Project congratulates the Village Initiative for Equity in Education, William & Mary faculty and students, and the area Black descendant communities on revealing the online exhibition “Life in the Reservation Community.” The website tells the story of an autonomous African American community in York County established before the Civil War and upended in the 1920s by eminent domain to build what is now the Naval Weapons Station. 

The unveiling on Saturday, February 4, drew a crowd of over 250 Reservation descendants at William & Mary’s School of Education. The project’s first phase provides a comprehensive rendering of the people who lived on the Reservation, the complexity of freedom pre-and post-Civil War, entrepreneurship tied to the York River, and a range of primary sources on local Black church history. The project’s next phase will cover the topics: Dispossession and Protest, Resilience: Rebuilding a Legacy, and Intergenerational Trauma and Activism Today. 

The Reservation history is not singular but contains numerous narratives of families in York County and connections beyond the Commonwealth of Virginia. During the Lemon Project’s 13th Annual Spring Symposium, there will be two panels on the Reservation history and its legacies: Where Do We Go From Here?: A generational discussion of The Reservation Experience; Life in the Reservation Community: Community-University Partnerships for Public Research. 

The symposium themed, At the Root: Exploring Black life, History, and Culture, has three objectives: 

  • Reflect on what is happening in African American communities and consider how these communities transform narratives. 
  • Explore the ways that colleges and universities work with African American communities. 
  • Contribute to strategies and best practices for institutions dealing with their involvement in slavery and its legacies. 

Join us at the 2023 Lemon Project Spring Symposium to learn more about the Reservation and other public humanities projects. Participants will also discuss current topics related to Black life and culture.  

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Meet William & Mary’s most recent Executive Director of Historic Campus

By Caroline Watson, Lemon Project Anthropology Graduate Assistant

Those who are well-connected with the Lemon Project likely know Dr. Susan Kern. To meet Susan is to learn of her extensive knowledge of the inner and outer workings of William & Mary’s Historic Campus. Her knowledge base of campus history is rarely surpassed! This is unsurprising given Susan’s connection to William & Mary as an alumnus (Ph.D., History) and the university’s most recent Executive Director of Historic Campus (2014-2021). Susan took over as Executive Director of Historic Campus in 2014, replacing previous director Louise Kale, who took the honorable position in 1995 (and in whose name the daffodil garden in the North Wren Yard is dedicated).

As a key figure who has shaped the narrative surrounding Historic Campus, especially the Wren Building, I sought to learn more about Susan’s role as Executive Director. On a warm afternoon last October, we gathered for a coffee and a brief interview. My initial curiosities surrounded Susan’s job requirements, as not many universities have an institutionalized Historic Campus, much less an Executive Director of it. I was indeed surprised to learn of the breadth and diversity of roles that were required of such a position.

Susan Kern and 18th-century drain uncovered near the Wren Building, 2019. Stephen Salpukas/William and Mary

During her time at William & Mary, Susan facilitated and upheld working relationships with many local and state-wide institutions, including the Virginia Department of Historic Resources, the William & Mary Center for Archaeological Resources, the Muscarelle Museum, and facilities management. When she wasn’t occupied by the bureaucratic responsibilities that came with maintaining these relationships, Susan was tasked with managing Historic Campus’s resources. This management required not just a little bit of work and creativity from Susan; this was a colossal commitment on her part to care for the documents, artworks, and archaeological materials that belong to Historic Campus. A significant part of this care, we discussed, was focused on the archaeological resources. Susan herself was and is adequately prepared for such a task, given her experience working and directing Monticello’s archaeology department for 8 years. For those who may not know, W&M’s archaeological resources materialize in diverse forms. They range from technical reports, excavation descriptions and planning documents, publications, artifacts, and even the sites themselves. One of Susan’s most recent projects on Historic Campus oversaw the excavation of an 18th-century vaulted brick drain behind the Wren Building.

Historic Campus has been continuously occupied and used since the chartering of W&M in 1693—and long before that too. As such, Susan had her hands full writing, re-writing, and expanding the archaeological narrative of this landscape. In particular, Susan helped reframe thinking about campus as a site of slavery, including understanding the College (Wren) Building as William & Mary’s original slave quarter. Through her diligent work on Historic Campus and as a partner with the Lemon Project, Susan was committed to a more inclusive history at William & Mary.

Moreover, before leaving office, Susan composed a formal recommendation to Colonial Williamsburg and William & Mary regarding the best practices for the management of the University’s archaeological resources. As part of her plan, I continue to use the documents and resources that she gathered as part of my Lemon Project fellowship investigating the history of archaeology and slavery at W&M. Thank you again, Susan, for all your work!

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