The refusal to acknowledge names – particularly women’s names – runs deep. And hurts, deeply.
This poem was written by Lucille Clifton upon her own visit to a plantation. She noticed a cemetery for enslaved people. The dead were unnamed. Inside the plantation house, she was shown documents that enumerated enslaved people, but just men. The women were unnamed.
at the cemetery, walnut grove plantation, south carolina, 1989
among the rocks
at walnut grove
your silence drumming
in my bones,
tell me your names.
nobody mentioned slaves
and yet the curious tools
shine with your fingerprints.
nobody mentioned slaves
but somebody did this work
who had no guide, no stone,
who moulders under rock.
tell me your names,
tell me your bashful names
and I will testify.
the inventory lists ten slaves
but only men were recognized.
among the rocks
at walnut grove
some of these honored dead
were dark
some of these dark
were slaves
some of these slaves
were women
some of them did this honored work.
tell me your names
foremothers, brothers,
tell me your dishonored names.
here lies
here lies
here lies
here lies
hear
photo by Clay Banks