Betty Kilby was gripped with apprehension. Descendants of the white
family that enslaved her kin were coming to dinner.
She scrolled
through a mental Rolodex of relatives who might flip out. Her brothers
had already asked her: Why would you want to meet the family of those
who held our loved ones in bondage?
"When they ask that
question," she says, "you kind of scratch your head. It makes sense. Why
would you want to do that?"
As the dinner neared, she thought of
her grandparents, who had toiled in the fields of rural Rappahannock
County, Virginia. "Out of all the crazy things I've done," she thought,
"this has got to be the craziest."
Betty had faced down racism,
and white people, before. She was one of the first African-Americans to
attend a desegregated school in Virginia. She'd even written a book
about it.
But this dinner, though weeks in the making, would test
her in a new way.
'Knew we were connected'
It was a
surprise for Phoebe Kilby to learn that her family owned slaves. It
wasn't something her father ever mentioned.
But Phoebe had read newspaper articles
about African-American Kilbys living in Virginia, near the farm where
her father grew up. Her curiosity sent her on a search of old courthouse
records -- deeds, wills, census documents.
She soon learned her
family owned five slaves.
And when she read Betty Kilby's book,
the puzzle fell together.
"I just knew we were connected," Phoebe
said.
But how does the descendant of a slave owner reach out?
"It's a hard thing to do out of the blue," Phoebe said. "What do you
say to somebody? And how are they going to react to you? Are they going
to be angry? Are they going to say, 'I never want to talk to somebody
like you?' "
On January 15, 2007, she sat down at her computer
and fired off an e-mail to Betty. It was Martin Luther King Jr. Day.
"My name is Phoebe Kilby, and I am white," the note began.
"Martin
Luther King had 'a dream that ... the sons of former slaves and slave
owners will be able to sit down together at the table of Brotherhood.'
Perhaps, we as daughters can contribute to fulfilling that dream."
Days went by. No response.
"At first, I
thought she doesn't want to talk to me."
It turned out a computer
glitch meant Betty never received the e-mail. Two weeks after she sent
the first note, Phoebe tried again.
"Hello, cousin," Betty
responded.
The two spoke briefly by phone and made a plan to
meet.
Betty was mega-busy on a book tour, giving speeches about
love and brotherhood. At schools, black children would ask, "How come
you don't hate white people?"
"I tell them hate is like taking
poison. The only person you hurt is yourself."
Without much
thought, Betty invited Phoebe to the family dinner. "I thought, what
kind of hypocrite would I be if I could not sit down at the table of
brotherhood with Phoebe?"
Still, she and others in her family
couldn't help but wonder about Phoebe's motives. Were the descendants of
the slave master coming to steal from them one last time?
Searching
for roots
An explosion of genealogical Web sites -- from RootsWeb to AfriGeneas to Family
Search -- has helped African-Americans find information about their
ancestors with the click of a mouse.
Descendants of slaves and
slave owners stumble upon each other while researching their families.
Sometimes, descendants of slave masters can help shed light on the past
through family documents that still aren't public.
Hate is like
taking poison. The only person you hurt is yourself.
--Betty
Kilby
Such topics were taboo in the past and, to
some degree, still are. But time has helped make them easier to
discuss.
"When you meet someone whose ancestors are connected to
yours through slavery, you become connected with that history in a very
personal way," said Susan Hutchison, the community coordinator for Coming to the Table,
a program sponsored by the Center for Justice and Peacebuilding at
Eastern Mennonite University in Virginia.
The program, begun in
2005, encourages descendants of slaves and slave owners to discuss
history, connection, healing and action.
"So much of the damage
of slavery has come from the disconnection between African-Americans and
European-Americans," Hutchison said. "To build a connection out of a
history where there's been so much painful disconnection is particularly
powerful.
"We've found that building connections is a critical
piece of what's needed for healing on a personal level, on a family
level and on a national level."
She said the internet has made a
huge difference in helping bring both sides together, although it's
still not an everyday occurrence.
It's even rarer for descendants
of slaves and slave owners to become friends. Many draw the line at
e-mail and phone contact.
"It's quite rare for people to find
each other and very intentionally talk about the real history of the
time and the social forces around slavery and what came after slavery,"
Hutchison said.
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