Flo-oral history #1 - Hagar - Canada

Flo-oral histories are the fictionalized and lovingly recreated voices of women who lived before our time. I call them "flo-oral" (flor'al) histories because they are,like flowers or a floral bouque, the skeletal voices of beautiful women. They are the voices of strength and power; they are our ancestors; they are our role models; they are our inspiration; and they are our guiding lights.

The writer of flo-oral histories prepares for the writing of these stories by reading research that covers the anthropological and sociocultural aspects of these women's lives. History books tended to capture the names of some women, but on the whole the details of their lives were ignored. Due to the circumstances that privileged one gender over the other, the writers of history were often men. Consequently, the voices of women were silenced and their amazing contributions to society overlooked.

Flo-oral histories are an attempt to give these women back their voices; they are a verbal archealogical dig into the annals of history; they are a forward motion in an attempt to uncover the invaluable threads and bridges that link us to the past. They give women a boost to their identities; and they give men a looking glass for equality.

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Research: book for reference
Bristow, P., Brand, D., Carty, L., Cooper, A.P., Hamilton, S., Shadd, A.
"We're Rooted Here and They Can't Pull Us Up," Essays in African Canadian Women's History

Link to We're rooted here and they can't pull us up

Writers's purpose

"We are six Black women who share a collective concern that the history of Black people in Canada and of Black women i particular is missing from the pages of mainstream Canadian history. Black people in Canada have a past that has been hidden or eradicated, just as racism has been deliberately denied as an organized element in how Canada is constituted."

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Introduction:
In my search for women in North American history, I entered Canada in the 18th century. As I looked around; as I read about the period I met Hagar. She was owned by a Malachy Salter and was well known in their household for her hearty and deliciously spiced home cooking. Hagar worked long hours in the Salter household and prayed daily for the life of her son, Jack. Jack was a young man who spent his time angrily claiming his humanity in one way or another. His antics often put him in harms way. His master, the sadistic Salter, gave him a beating almost every day. I roamed around the era and eventually Hagar agreed to speak to me.

Yaari: Hagar, I am working with my students on collection stories of women. I found your name and decided to interview you about your life here in Canada. Tell me a little about yourself.

Hagar: Well Yaari life is hard. I've been working for the magistrate and his family since I was a young girl. When I'm cooking I hear him and his wife talking about justice and fairness and I stand there thinking about the many beatings this man has given me. His wife doesn't even try to stop him when she hears the screams from the others.

Yaari: It sounds like hell Hagar. What are the challenges you face as a woman in this position?

Hagar: I used to live in fear of the master and the other men because I knew that he could decide any day to come to my bed. And now that I have children I pray twice as hard for them. After they sold my man away from me, I grew hard and strong. I told myself I could do anything as long as they don't sell my children or me. Keeping us together is my one goal.

Yaari: I hear you're having some trouble with your son. What is the trouble all about?

Hagar: OOOhhh, keeping him alive and on this plantation is my biggest challenge. He's willful and stubborn. He hates the life he sees me living and as he gets older he's becoming more rebellious. The master beats him almost every day because he's always breaking the rules and he is always leaving the fields. My heart vibrates with anger and it cracks when I see them tie him to the post and beat him until the old scars bleed. The rage wells up; I want to kill the master for his cruelty and I want to beat Jack because I am scared for him, but I want to love him and hold him close because he's trying to protect his mother.

Yaari: Hagar, how do you protect yourself and your son under these circumstances?

Hagar: Oh girl, I try not to think about these things. If I did all the time, I'd go mad. But, now that I think on it, I live with a deep belief in God. I pray for better days. I do all that I'm told to do because I can't afford no trouble while I have these children with me. As it is I know that they're thinking of selling Jack so I must find a way to get him out of here. I'm going to miss my boy something terrible, but I can't watch them cut him to pieces and I can let them sell him to another plantation. I prefer to let him run North and never see him again than watch them sell him.

Yaari: Hagar, thanks for talking to me.

Conclusion:
My interview with Hagar was the beginning of the stories. As she related her experiences to me, my admiration grew. I wondered how she could be so calm, so in control of her emotions, so patient with the situation. I realized that in order to keep her sanity and for the sake of her children, Hagar reached into her inner self and gathered all of her strength. She fed on that strength for the lives of her children.

Flo-oral history #2 - Sylvia - Canada

“Black female slaves were called upon to do more than domestic chores for their masters. Sylvia was a servant of Colonel John Creighton of lunenburg. On 1 July 1782 the town was invaded by soldiers from the strife-ridden American colonies. Sylvia shuyttled cartridges hidden in her apron from Creitghton’s house to the fort where he and his soldiers were engaged in battle.”

Introduction:
Sylvia’s story amazed me. Never before the start of my own inquiry into the lives of black women had I heard of the bravery of black women who, for many years, lived as slaves to men, women, and children who supported a sadistic and genocidal institution. Their identities and their contributions were like gaping holes in the universe. They were there to be discovered. The history of black women has been buried deep in the soil of American history and Sylvia’s story is a small part of the excavation process.

I opened my mind; I explored the past; eventually, I found her, Sylvia, partly exposed in a book of history written by women, I dug a little deeper and Slyvia shared some more of her story with me.

Yaari: Sylvia, you are the second woman on my list of interviewees. Your story caught my attention. I am amazed at your bravery. Please share your story with me. Tell me a little about yourself.

Sylvia: Well… ummh… let’s see. I am not accustomed to talking about myself. But, I will try for you. You remind me of my sister; she was sold last year. I’ve been with Colonel John Creighton for a few years. I have three children with him so I do whatever I can to keep them safe. He is kind to the children, but when he’s upset with me he threatens to sell them. I couldn’t live without them. They are all I have. This war frightens me, but I think of my children and I can do anything.

Yaari: Sylvia, this might sound like a silly question in light of the circumstances you must endure as a slave and as the mother of the colone’s children, but what is the greatest challenge you have faced as a woman?

Sylvia: Oh.. child, that one is not hard to answer. I remember it as if it were yesterday. It was the time the master made me in carry the gun bullets from the house to the soldiers while they were fighting. My heart beat so hard, I almost choked on it. I couldn’t stand the blood and the noise; I waited for one of those bullets to rip open my chest. I had to stop myself from thinking and just keep going. I knew that if I died my children would suffer. During the fighting I saved the Colone’s son, but it didn’t buy my freedom and whe they gave money to the brave soldiers none was given to me.

Yaari: Sylvia, you mentioned that your children would suffer if you died. What do you mean?

Sylvia: It just makes me cold to think of it. But, I know that the colonel only keeps them safe because he has me. I am the one who has been cooking and cleaning for him over the years. In spite of his wife and children, he keeps me as his woman. If I die, he wouldn’t hesitate to sell my children and that could mean that they would end up in different places never to see each other again. I know what that is like and the thought of it happening to my children makes me shake.

Yaari: What a horrible situation to be in Sylvia. What do you do to protect yourself and the children?

Sylvia: I obey every command. I have sex with him when he wants; I cook and I clean from sun up to sun down. I try not to get him angry. I go to church; I pray hard and I try not to hate, but I can’t help it. I keep watch over my children like a hawk.

Yaari: Sylvia thanks for talking to me. Your story makes me think of the future.

Conclusion:
As my conversation with Sylvia came to an end, I sat there lost in thought. What would I do in Sylvia’s situation? How would I survive? How would I keep my sanity? My conversations with the women of history were making me understand the unbelievable strength of women in the midst of what seemed like a prison with no means of escape.

EXAMPLE ESSAY - HAGAR - 3rd PERSON

“An advertisement offering them for sale appeared in the Boston Evening Post. The slaves being sold were skilled tradesmen, including carpenters and sailmakers. During the same period, a black woman named Hagar was a cook in the household of Malachy Salter, a prominent Halifax magistrate and legislator.” (pg. 15)

Africans were captured by Europeans in various places on the West African coast and transported across the Atlantic ocean; they were eventually sold in many countries. Today, people of African descent can be found across North, South, and Central America and in many parts of Europe. The slave trade stole many men, women, and children from their homeland and shipped them to foreign countries and into the hands of Europeans and Citizens of the United States. The institution of slavery was genocidal and crushingly inhumane. It lasted for hundreds of years; the perpetrators, over the years, tortured, maimed and killed millions. In this period of time, many women showed strength and courage as they challenged the system and used their ingenuity and positions to protect their own. Hagar was one of those women.

Owned by a well known family in Canada, Hagar, a black woman who lived as a slave woman in Halifax, Nova Scotia, was an example of female strength in the 18th century. She knew that her family was Africa and that they arrived in North America and the famous slave ships; she had the heard the horrific stories from many of the older African slaves on the plantation. But, she sid not remember her family because they had all been sold to separate places. Their names had been changed and there was no avenue for slaves to contact each other. Over the years, Hagad had heard stories of the lands of Africa and she had learned many African traditions; she enjoyed the music and the dances. She knew that her people had spoken different languages and she had heard a few of the words, but on the planation, she and the other Africans were not allowed to marry, speak their own languages, or practice their religions.

At one time, Hagar did have a husband and children. She loved her family. But, by the time she became the property of the magistrate, she was on her own and she had only one son; his name was Jack. Hagar husband and her other children had been sold and she struggled every day to keep her last child on the magistrate’s plantation. Every day the fear chilled her insides as she watched her son become more and more rebellious as he witnessed and experienced the inequality of their lives. The master beat him daily and the more he was beaten the more angry he became. She knew that his behavior would eventually mean that he would be sold. She prayed for him; she prayed that she would be able to protect him.

Hagar was a hard worker. She had learned very early in life that if she did a good job and the slave owners were happy with her performance it meant that she would not be sold quickly or spontaneously. She had learned that to be good meant that she was secure. Hagar loved to cook and she made it her focus. She became an excellent cook and she was very valuable to the magistrate and his wife. In this way, Hagar felt more secure in her position in the household, but she knew that this security did not include her son. She feared for his safety and she feared that she might lose him if the magistrate decided to sell him.

Hagar lived with a certain amount of fear every day. Throughout her life she had lived with the physical and verbal abuse of slave owners. She had survived severe beatings and many incidents of unwanted sex from men. The white owners used the black women for their own entertainment and this started with girls of any age. And some of the black men were forced to sleep with slave women in order to increase the slave population. This behavior was the norm for many in the slave world.

Slavery was brutality personified. Yet, the brutality crystalized the strengths and the pride of many black women. Hagar was one of those women. She lived with the possibility of death and loss every day. She held her head high and she was prepared to make sacrifices for her son’s survival.

EXAMPLE ESSAY - HAGAR - 1st PERSON

“An advertisement offering them for sale appeared in the Boston Evening Post. The slaves being sold were skilled tradesmen, including carpenters and sailmakers. During the same period, a black woman named Hagar was a cook in the household of Malachy Salter, a prominent Halifax magistrate and legislator.” (pg. 15)

My name in Hagar and I live in Canada. I am have been owned by white people all of my life. I was brought to Halifax, Nova Scotia and sold to a family named Salter. I live as a slave and that means that I own nothing; my time belongs to others and my body is abused daily. Slavery is the most vicious and indecent institution I know.

Long ago, my people were taken from a place called Africa. I am not sure which country because I have no relatives on my mother's side or my father's so I have no personal stories. I never knew my relatives. I learned that the visit Africa and kidnap Africans and bring them across the ocean. Black people are seen as property, like furniture or animals, and we are sold for many reasons. Therefore, I am never sure if I will be here all of my life. Everyday I expect to leave.

I do have my own family. There was a man once and we had children. One day, the master sold him to another plantation and I have never seen him again. I have a son, Jack, and I love him dearly. The master is getting me a new man so that I can have more children and he can have more slaves to work the fields.

Work in the Salter household lasts for many hours. The Salter family keeps me very busy from early morning to late in the evening. I am an excellent cook and I use my skill to guarantee as much safety as I can. I learned very early in life that if I learned a necessary skill, I could stay on the same plantation. Up till now, I have been lucky. I cook three meals a day and I am responsible for buying all the ingredients kept in the kitchen. when I am not cooking, I must clean the rooms and wash the clothes.

As a black woman in the household of a white family, I face many dangers. Every day I worry about my children's health and safety. I wonder if they will be beaten, sold, or killed. I am often beaten when I try to protect my children. And, many nights I wonder when someone will demand sex from me. Every day I pray for strength as I prepare myself mentally for violence.

I am proud of my African ancestry. I listen carefully to the stories of the elders and I use them to gain strength and perseverence. My life is in danger and so are the lives of the other Africans. As African slaves we are held in a vicious and unrepenting institution.