Looking at the Atlantic Slave Trade From Another Perspective
I spent the eight weeks leading up to Christmas working on a short book on the trans-Atlantic slave trade for high school libraries. Quite frankly, it kicked my butt.
I took the assignment because I wanted something to distract myself with while my agent took my proposal for Women Warriors out on submission.* I knew I would have to write hard and fast because the deadline was short. But I thought it wouldn’t be a problem. I knew this material: Prince Henry the Navigator, the triangle trade, Caribbean sugar colonies, Mexican silver mines, the first slaves to reach North America, the Spanish asiento, William Wilberforce, etc. I’ve written about this stuff before, here on the Margins (just follow the links) and other places. The job would not be not a piece of cake, but it was definitely doable.
It wasn’t until I got to chapter three that reality hit.
Those of you who don’t teach or write history for kids probably aren’t aware of this, but the individual books in a non-fiction series share a standard outline. In this case, the outline forced me to think about the Atlantic slave trade from a different angle.** In addition to the parts of the story I already knew, I had to think about what the slave trade looked like from the African perspective.
I was not totally unfamiliar with the broad outlines of African history, but not familiar enough to simply sit down and write., Confronted with my own ignorance about African history, I began to scramble.***
I came away with the realization that precolonial Africa was a much more complicated place than I had ever known. Certainly more diverse than Europe at the time. Over the course of the Atlantic slave trade, kingdoms and tribes rose and fell, expanded and consolidated. Scholars have identified at least 173 different political groups in West Africa at the time the Portuguese arrived in the 1440s, including 68 organized nations and 45 distinct ethnic groups, each with their own history, government, customs and languages. How do you generalize about that experience in a meaningful way in a few thousand worlds?
I learned enough to write the book, but I ended with more questions than answers. I hope to fill some of the big gaps in the coming year. For instance, I’d like to know more about the three great precolonial empires of West Africa: Mali, Ghana, and Songhai. At a minimum, I’ll learn a bit more as I consider warrior women like the seventeenth century queen Njinga, the fifteenth century Hausa queen Amina, the Dahomey “Amazons”, and Zimbabwe’s “guerrilla girls.” I’ll keep you posted.
In the meantime, let me share one tidbit about the Atlantic slave trade that left me stunned:
Between 1492 and 1820, eighty percent of the people who embarked for the Americas were African slaves. Most of them were taken to Latin America and the Caribbean.
That pretty much turns every thing I thought I knew about the settlement of the Americas upside down and gives it a good shake.
*Thereby ensuring that the book would sell quickly. The universe has a sense of humor. Not that I’m complaining.
**I don’t know if this was intentional on the part of the people who framed the outline for the series on historical trade routes. If it was, all I can say is “Bravo!”
***The echo of the phrase “Scramble for Africa” was accidental, but I’ve decided to own it.
Plunging Into A History-Buff New Year (Or Should That Be A New History-Buff Year?)
This year I abandoned many of my holiday traditions. Instead of a tree, we had a decorated rosemary plant. 
Instead of decorating the house in a celebratory frenzy, we brought things out a bit at a time, when and as the spirit moved us. I did not make plans to have Christmas tea with one of my best buds. I did not watch any holiday movies, not even A Charlie Brown Christmas. On New Year’s Day I abandoned my beloved Gujarati black-eyed peas with mushrooms in favor of Ruth Reichl’s recipe for pork and tomatillo stew.* In short, it was the stripped-down holiday of a history buff who was under the gun. And that was just fine. Because none of those things are needed as long as we have love and music and a candle to light our way out of the winter darkness.
But I find I’ve developed a tradition here on the Margins that I’m unwilling to give up.** For the last few years in the first blog post of the year I’ve talked about the historical topics I hope/plan/expect to be thinking about in the coming year. In looking back over those posts and what actually happened over the year, I find that those plans seldom worked out. Each year I was bushwhacked by things I didn’t expect to write about. That, too, is just fine.
This year, the big plan is set. I have a year to write my global history of women warriors. I’m going to write about warrior queens, women who disguised themselves as men in order to fight, women who fought in all-female units, women who fought to liberate their countries, and few female bad-asses who fought because they wanted to. About women warriors from ancient China, the Middle East, medieval England, and 17th century Africa. Not to mention 20th century freedom fighters from here, there and everywhere.
I’ve already plunged in. At the moment, I’m looking at ancient Kazakhstan, Roman Britain, and British India.
I have no doubt there will be detours—there always are. Sometimes you find the best stuff on the detours.
Stayed tuned. Stories to follow.
*Though I wasn’t able to give up black-eyed peas on New Year’s altogether. At the last minute I scrambled to put together a small batch of peas and rice for lunch. Because who wants to mess with luck for the coming year?
**Like the best traditions, it happened unintentionally.
Here I Go A-wassailing?
Well, not exactly.
I had every intention of having blog posts lined up to carry us through the holidays here on the Margins. But as those of you who have subscribed to my newsletter* know, I’m struggling to finish a little book about the Atlantic slave trade. In the interest of sanity, I’m taking a blog holiday until the start of the year. I’ll be back on January 3rd, with some great stories from the corners of history, some books you ought to read, and some ideas I’m mulling over. In other words, it will be back to business as usual.
In the meantime, have a merry/jolly/happy/blessed time as you celebrate the victory of light over the darkness in the tradition of your choice.
As for me, once this book is in the bag, this is how I intend to celebrate: 
*And speaking of the newsletter, the subscription form is in the upper right hand corner of the blog. If you’re interested.