Our Biggest Classroom: Unpacking Black Resilience at Colonial Williamsburg

📚 Trading the Textbook for the Town

For many, Colonial Williamsburg is a story of powder wigs and founding fathers. For us, it was an opportunity to confront the nation's founding paradox head-on: the simultaneous struggle for freedom and the reality of widespread enslavement.

Our mission here was clear: to move past the traditional narrative and place African American life—the resilience, the labor, the resistance, and the culture—at the center of our family's learning experience.

This wasn't about simply visiting another tourist attraction. It was about transforming one of America's most famous landmarks into a deeply personal classroom where our children could grapple with the complexity of our nation's founding and the central role of Black Americans in building it.

🧠 The Living Paradox: A Majority Black Town

The first lesson we emphasized with our family was the simple fact that, by the eve of the Revolution, over half of Williamsburg's population was Black, the vast majority of whom were enslaved.

Suddenly, the grand homes, the thriving taverns, and the busy trade shops took on a new context. Every craft demonstrated, every meal cooked, and every street walked was built on the labor and skill of enslaved Africans and free Black artisans.

The Power of Interpretation

We sought out the African American interpreters—the men and women bringing historical figures like the formerly enslaved preacher Gowan Pamphlet to life. Hearing their first-person accounts, our children weren't just reading about slavery; they were grappling with a living history of negotiation, intelligence, and survival.

It's impossible to ignore the complex emotions when an actor, playing a skilled enslaved blacksmith, explains how his work built the colony but the profits belonged to his owner. These moments create understanding that no textbook can replicate.

⛪ Education and Faith: Sites of Self-Determination

Williamsburg became our classroom not for what the majority built, but for where the Black community found its own power. Two sites, in particular, anchored our history lesson:

The Williamsburg Bray School

This restored building is a powerful symbol. Established to teach enslaved and free Black children, its original, deeply flawed purpose was to teach obedience and acceptance of their bondage through religion.

But the reality, as we discussed with our family, was that the students used the literacy they gained for their own agency—to read, to communicate, and even to escape. It's a vivid lesson in finding light even within systems designed for darkness.

The First Baptist Church

Founded by enslaved and free Black people meeting secretly in the woods, this church grew into one of the oldest African American congregations in the country. Standing near the site, we talked about how faith and community provided a critical space for self-determination—a place where Black people were fully in charge of their own souls and structure.

It's a profound counterpoint to the oppression seen elsewhere in the town. Within these walls, enslaved people were not property—they were congregants, leaders, and spiritual beings with full agency and dignity.

🔄 Integrating the Present with the Past

Visiting a site like Colonial Williamsburg allows us to move beyond simple victim/villain narratives. It reveals a community full of complexities: the enslaved man who became a double agent for the Patriots (James Armistead Lafayette), the skilled woman who ran her own boarding house, and the persistent spiritual leaders.

Our RV classroom focuses on how those historical choices echo in our lives today. We ask our children:

• What skills did these enslaved artisans possess?
• How did they maintain their families?
• Where did they find joy?
• What forms of resistance were available to them?
• How did their contributions shape the nation we live in today?

This experience proved that by asking the right questions, we can transform even the most famous landmarks into deeply personal, profoundly relevant touchstones of African American contribution and enduring legacy.

Colonial Williamsburg became our biggest classroom not because of its size, but because of its honest confrontation with America's founding paradox—and its celebration of Black resilience within that paradox.