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57 Days: Free Labor

Labor Day has a way of sneaking up on me. The sudden end point of lazy summer routines. Echoes of childhood. Butterflies in my stomach realizing school starts the next day. Am I ready? Do I have enough notebooks? What will I wear? Will any friends be in my classes? On my school bus route? Will the teachers be nice or harsh?

As an adult, I have carried these ideas with me. Labor Day as fresh start; as the end of vacations and the start of a busy few months until the winter holidays. When I had an office job — and even when I rented a desk at a coworking space — I would make an effort to dress sharper the day after Labor Day than I had in July and August to mark the occasion. An earnest solemnity for the work ahead.

The holiday itself went unremarked. After a long string of unstructured days, why celebrate the last of them? I’m sure my family had picnics on Labor Day weekend in some of those years. We had many July and August birthday celebrations, including the July 4th birthday of Uncle Sam. Perhaps we were done with celebrations by the time Labor Day came around. I recall a picnic or two with my dad’s coworkers from the power plant during the summer, too. Were these Labor picnics celebrating worker solidarity, descendants of the tradition established at the first 1882 Labor Day in New York City? Beer, bratwurst, volleyball on a remote rural property. No volleyball at the 1882 picnic, though (it was invented seven years later).

I am now reading Heather Cox Richardson’s West From Appomattox, which explores the culture wars following the Civil War as the northern system of free labor — the idea that workers were free to work under terms they agreed to with their employer — struggled to take hold in the south and west. Wealthy landowners in the south opposed negotiating terms with their black workers and instead worked to recreate the antebellum (literally “pre-war”) slave labor system through sharecropping arrangements and later in Jim Crow laws.

Labor Day is a celebration of the free labor movement and the organization of workers into trade unions that was its logical outgrowth. At least 30 states had made Labor Day an official holiday in the tradition of 1882’s NYC parade and picnic by the time Congress passed and President Grover Cleveland signed the law making it a Federal holiday in 1894. There were 44 states at the time. I couldn’t find a list of the 14 holdout states, but given the history of the free labor movement, I’m guessing it would be a safe bet to start with the secessionist states in the south and work your way towards the western territories where settlers had attempted to expand slavery.

Here is a depiction of the first Labor Day parade. I’ve highlighted some incredible details.

Source: Frank Leslie's Weekly Illustrated Newspaper,
 September 16, 1882 via Wikimedia Commons

How many of these signs have you seen still being carried today, at Black Lives Matter protests? At Occupy camps in 2011?

LABOR CREATES ALL WEALTH

ALL MEN ARE BORN EQUAL

8 HOURS TO CONSTITUTE A DAYS WORK

THE TRUE REMEDY IS ORGANIZATION & THE BALLOT

LABOR PAYS ALL TAXES

AGITATE EDUCATE ORGANIZE

PAY NO RENT

VOTE THE LABOR TICKET

ABOLISH CONVICT LABOR

WHO STOLE THE TENEMENT HOUSE REFORM BILL

I wonder why this image isn’t taught in school, isn’t as well-known as the history of Thanksgiving, the fourth of July, and other secular U.S. holidays?

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election anxiety countdown

75 Days: Comfort

On or about August 20, 1619, Africans — kidnapped from their homelands and brought to British North America — were brought by force to Point Comfort, part of today’s Fort Monroe in Hampton, Virginia… The Point Comfort name derived from the first English settlers finding “comfort” on this point of land in 1607. But in 1619, the “20 and odd” Africans were inhumanely traded like chattel by the captain of the ship The White Lion to Virginia’s colonial Governor George Yeardley and merchant Abraham Peirsey, and dispersed to several other locations.

Zinn Education Project

Point Comfort is a scarce three hours from my apartment by car. I’ve not been there. I first heard its name last year when The 1619 Project debuted. But it didn’t register as a concrete place. I was more fixated on the 400-year time span. This website’s name — Future Cartographic — began as a project looking 200 years in to the future. Events 200 years (and 300, and 400 years) in our past continue to shape our neighborhoods and lives today, so why not use the distant future to ask whether what we’re doing today is putting our great-grandchildren on a track we want for them?

This is one of the points of The 1619 Project, that many of the social and economic issues we are dealing with today — from the structure of police departments to the sorry state of health care access in the U.S. and the segregation of schools and cities — are direct outgrowths from the legal and social constructs invented to sustain slavery.

A few weeks ago, the August 20th date popped out for me as I researched and drafted some writing on culture and racial justice for one of my clients. A date is concrete. A date ties memory to season. August in coastal Virginia. I can picture it, feel it. I know what unrelenting warm August air in this region feels like (my air conditioner has been broken since mid-June). And I can imagine the smell of salt air. Friends in my writers’ group have logged in to Zoom this summer from beach towns both north and south of Comfort Point. Their hair flutters in the sea breeze. A few shimmering pixels of the same ocean crossed by slave ships over their shoulders.

There was nothing familiar or comforting at Comfort Point for the “twenty and odd” Africans who were sold to the remote outpost of Virginia. They had been kidnapped from the thriving kingdom of Ndongo in West Central Africa, (present day Angola). Their Portuguese captors’ ship was raided by an English vessel who seized them and at Comfort Point traded them for supplies.

Virginia had only that year formed a legislative body. The laws governing slavery were yet to be written. How might this continent’s history have been different if a single voice in that body had spoken up? “Hey guys, I feel kind of uncomfortable with this whole indefinite lifetime servitude thing that we’re starting to see over at Comfort Point. Can we put the brakes on that?”

Who would we be in 2020?

What should we be speaking out about in 2020 for the benefit of the people of 2220 and 2420?