Proving once again that you’re never too old to do something new, my parents, the “octogenarian teenagers,” attended their first Juneteenth celebration. Added bonus: none of us had ever visited the park where the event took place.
The event didn’t start until 1. Since Dad’s caregiver was due to arrive at our house around 5, we visited during the hottest part of the day. Not ideal, but at least we found a shady spot. Unfortunately, we couldn’t set up near the stage to see the performances, but we still heard everything.
As I walked around the vendors to get a cold drink, someone gifted my parents “church” fans. I made a second trip around the food vendors for one of Mom’s favorite edible treat: a hot dog. I compromised and got all of us sausage dogs. As a surprise, I also bought an order of fried pickles.
A few days later, I attended another Juneteenth related event with my sister. I thought I was going to hear about The Underground Railroad along with a long table full of visual aids, but the “talk” turned out to be part storytelling, acting/singing and audience participation.
The storyteller herself had long ago recruited her husband to participate, but my sister was the first audience member of the evening who was voluntold to help with a presentation. Her job was to hold a basket of sunflowers, which have large brown “eyes” in the center, symbolizing “lots of people were watching;” therefore, it wasn’t safe for enslaved people to sneak on a ship.
This ploy was used a few times as a signal by abolishionists. The abolishionist stood selling flowers. As long as they stood in a particular spot, the enslaved people knew that it wasn’t safe. As soon as the coast was clear, then they could advance.
When I was voluntold, I joined two other people. We sang the first verse of “Ring Around the Rosies.” Apparently, singing about the plague wouldn’t have been too unusual back in the day. However, when the storyteller told us to sing the second verse, all of us volunteers looked at one another. A common reaction.
So, the storyteller and her husband sang the second verse: The cows are in the meadow, eating buttercups. Thunder, lightning, we all stand up!
If enslaved people heard the second verse of this children’s song, they knew it wasn’t safe. The cows symbolized the slave patrol and the buttercups symbolized the enslaved. “Stand up” meant for them to go away.
While I volunteered, I noticed my 5th grade teacher in the audience. As soon as the event was over, I made a beeline to her. Of all the people from my past, I never thought I’d run into a former teacher. She’d had a prolific career of inspiring young minds; so, I reminded her of some of the things that happened in my class to distinguish it from all the other classes.
My fondest memory: one of my classmates wrote a poem, where she described every classmate in a couplet. “‘Dag-nab-it’ is Teresa’s favorite word of three; that’s what makes her so funny.” Yes, I have never forgotten my couplet. My 5th grade teacher STILL has a copy of that poem.
My most infamous memory: For Inventor’s Day, I removed the hard paper roll from the center of a wire coat hanger, bent the two sides into a rough V shape. Using my “invention,” I tapped different objects and stated that based on how much that object caused my invention to vibrate, one could identify what the object was made of. Of course, I named my invention “The Vibrator.” How my teacher had kept a straight face, I can only guess. Even when I reminded her of my invention that evening, she stated how precocious I was, inventing a device that people who have a significant visual impairment currently use to guide them when they walk. Sure, let’s go with that conclusion.
History is full of brave people who fought against injustice, especially when dealing with crimes against humanity. Benjamin Lundy, a Quaker abolishionist, established several anti-slavery papers.
The Underground Railroad was a network of people, consisting of whites, free Blacks and the enslaved. Some of the intel about where ships were sailing and when was communicated by Black Jacks, African seamen who performed various duties.
Another symbolic flower used for coded communication was the Blackeyed Susan. Since they have a smaller eye than sunflowers, Blackeyed Susans conveyed that fewer slave patrollers were in the area.
For comparison, check out the bigger eyes on these sunflowers:
In addition to songs and flowers, children’s rhymes also communicated hidden messages. The various things that Old Mother Hubbard found in her cupboard meant something to those who deciphered the message.
As if I needed yet another reason to buck the fashion industry:
This was perhaps my favorite part of the entire presentation–teaching enslaved children how to spell, using a narrative/song. Since teaching enslaved people literacy skills was illegal, it had to be done in secret. Children gathered in slave quarters to learn a skill such as sewing, but when no patrolling eyes were around, a qualified adult passed out small slates along with an edible substance that they wrote with. If someone outside the quarters spotted danger approaching, they’d make a verbal signal, so the children could secret their slates and swallow their edible writing “implement.”
For our demonstration, we were given small slates and a piece of chalk. The storyteller started by saying how we started walking on a trip. She drew a line, which we copied on our slates. Then, she drew a circle, telling us about how we ate a hoecake, but the hoecake had a tail on it. After we ate, we crossed a river, so we drew some waves on top of the initial line that we’d drawn. Once on the other side, we saw a snake, which we drew. Then, we saw a horse, “I” then saw a smaller horse. Caught a fish with a hook. Saw a church with a cross. Ate another hoecake. Finally, saw another small horse. The name of the city that we’d spell would be our destination.
The storyteller told us that quilt patterns conveyed messages and enslaved people read the patterns even if they couldn’t read words. When I conducted an online search to find out what specific patterns meant, I wasn’t surprised to see that there was a strong pushback that suggested that quilt coding was a myth. The crux of the pushback rested on the disbelief of the enslaved learning those codes, who to trust and other dots that weren’t cleanly connected.
