The Transformative Power of Historical Research

I spent the past eight weeks doing intensive research on the migration of African descended peoples to Harlem. Essentially, I was tasked with taking on 400 plus years of history. My initial reactions were mixed; I was excited to embark upon the discovery of rich histories of the African diaspora in New York–to delve into the untapped stories of millions of people. I anticipated the breadth of information and resources that I would come to rely on, and as exciting as the thought of enriching myself with such knowledge was, it also felt daunting. I questioned my ability to take on such a task, after all, I didn’t consider myself a historian. At best, I was just a curious student hoping to unearth something interesting.

Despite, my initial hesitance of regarding myself as a historian, I began taking on that title as I embraced my innate curiosity and concern with the unknown; they are what propelled me past my fears and anxieties, towards an affirmation of my abilities as a researcher. Throughout my research, I scoured through archival documents, read books by prominent Black figures and scholars, examined newspaper articles, both past, and present, and analyzed census documents going back decades, alongside other things, and in the end, I realized how much I was truly capable of as a historian.

I recognizing many things about myself and abilities throughout this process. For one, I realized that I am capable of curating my own narrative as a researcher; I had agency to choose the stories that I thought best fit the overall goal of my project, but that discretion wasn’t always so straightforward given how invested I was in various stories of the past. As a Black woman, I felt personally connected to many of the histories that would come up in my research. On occasion, I would go into “research holes,” drawn in by the stories of individuals that would come to define how I understood the impact and legacy of Black people in New York. On one end, I was so immersed in such stories because I had never come across them in all of my studies of history, and so naturally, I felt compelled to take in as much as I could for my own intellectual and personal needs. On the other hand, I was frustrated that these stories and histories existed, yet many were not aware of them, and so doing research and reporting on what I found, for me, was a form of activism, to say that just because these stories are not made visible, doesn’t mean they don’t exist.

My primary project for the summer was creating a historical timeline of events and stories of the diaspora in Harlem, from those who came as enslaved Africans to those who would voluntarily come in waves in the late 20th century (and are continuing to do so). When I initially began this project, I expected that my timeline would serve a linear display of events, but as I began immersing myself in different time periods, I grappled with a reality that was much more cyclical. I saw how stories were not just stuck in the past but carried on into the future–how struggles of the present migrations, paralleled those of the past. Unique as each individual moment and experience was, there still existed a connection; a unifying African diasporic spirit, if you will.

Through my research, I was challenged to view history in a more nuanced manner, to question my assumptions and understandings of a community I see myself as being a part of. And I felt privileged in my ability to do so because I know that many people don’t get the chance to. Our understanding of history is very much rooted in our experiences, and no matter how objective we try to be, that will always remain the case. However, in discovering alternative perspectives and understandings of history, we can begin to expand our particular orientation towards the past and present to encompass more complexity. This wasn’t a natural process for me, as is the case with many others; it’s a learned skill, one that can only take shape and strengthen through practice (and many hours of it). And I realized, through my own experience, that sharpening this skill can at times be overwhelming (many competing (and complementary) narratives exist) but that it’s worth the challenge, especially for moments where things begin to click and we begin to experience the remolding of our conceptualization of history and its relation to us.

I came into this fellowship knowing that I was personally connected to my topic of research. I knew that some of the more recent stories of migration would resonate with me, as they were familiar parts of upbringing as the daughter of two African immigrants. What I didn’t expect or anticipate, however, was how past histories, those that went back decades and centuries, would also personally touch me. I felt empowered and proud to be apart of the diaspora of African descended people of New York who had and continue to do so much to shape the fabric of this city and its communities.

My personal journey through this research is something that I hope is replicated within others on similar paths of discovery and rediscovery of histories of communities that they are allied with or a part of. I hope that people, especially those of African descent, are empowered by New York’s past and present regarding African migration and its impact. I hope that my research serves as a means for others to continue to the history-making and building processes; to fill in gaps in places I have missed (& there’s plenty to fill); to tell alternative stories of the African diaspora’s history in New York; and finally, to engage others in those histories such that they are used to inform how we understand the present and move forward as a community of Black New Yorkers unified by the legacy of those who have come before us.