Trump and his allies want it both ways rewriting the history of slavery.
Trump and his allies want it both ways rewriting the history of slavery.
Opinion By Robert C. Schwaller Special to The Kansas City Star August 31, 2025 7:12 AM
Then-Florida Education Commissioner Manny Diaz and Gov. Ron DeSantis oversaw the introduction of new educational standards that require students to learn that enslaved people “developed skills which, in some instances, could be applied for their personal benefit."
Slavery’s place in U.S. history has once again become a flashpoint in public discourse. On one hand, President Donald Trump has criticized Smithsonian institutions, including the National Museum of African American History, for focusing too much on “how horrible our country is, how bad slavery was, and how unaccomplished the downtrodden have been.” He laments the absence of stories about “success,” “brightness” and “the future.”
On the other hand, Florida’s new educational standards require students to learn that enslaved people “developed skills which, in some instances, could be applied for their personal benefit.”
This contradictory messaging is confusing. If slavery was so horrific that we should avoid discussing it, why simultaneously insist on highlighting its supposed benefits? The proponents of this narrative want it both ways: to downplay the brutality of slavery while extracting a sliver of usefulness from its coerced labor.
What’s most revealing about this framing is how it strips slavery of its enduring legacies — how it shaped ideologies of race, the material realities of Black life and the very structure of American society. It also erases the stories of Black Americans who resisted, survived and built lives of meaning and purpose in the face of unimaginable oppression — a struggle that continues in the wake of slavery’s long afterlife.
If Trump wants stories of “success” and “brightness,” he need look no further than the countless Black Americans — before and after abolition — who pursued freedom, autonomy, family, love and community. These are the very values the president champions as quintessentially American.
Even Florida’s teaching standard could be reframed to honor the truth. As written, it echoes the paternalism of enslavers: “Slavery (the enslavers) taught slaves skills that benefitted them.” In this version, the enslaver is the active agent, the enslaved person merely the passive recipient. But the real story — the one filled with brightness — is about the choices made by Black Americans who took those skills and used them to build lives, communities and futures. The benefit didn’t come from the enslaver’s coercion. It came from the Black Americans’ ingenuity, resilience and determination.
This disconnect reveals a deeper legacy of slavery that still permeates our political discourse: the refusal to see Black Americans as active producers of the American story. In this narrative, they are acted upon, never acting. But those of us who study Black history know the opposite is true. When we center the lives, choices and achievements of Black Americans, we pierce the veil of injustice to uncover a narrative filled with brilliance.
Right here in the Kansas City metropolitan area, we can look to the historic site of Quindaro in Kansas City, Kansas, to find stories that embody the perseverance of the human spirit in the face of adversity. Founded in the 1850s by abolitionists, members of the Wyandot Nation and Black freedom seekers, Quindaro became a vital stop along the Underground Railroad, offering refuge to those fleeing slavery. It was also home to the first Black educational institution west of the Mississippi River.
Though the darkness of slavery permeates Quindaro’s history, its legacy is one of collaboration, aspiration and hope. It highlights that Black history and Indigenous history are American history. Most important, the true stories of Black Americans remind us of what can emerge when communities unite in pursuit of justice and freedom.
Dr. Robert C. Schwaller is a professor and department chair of the department of history at the University of Kansas. His research focuses on the African diaspora to Latin America and the experiences of Africans and their descendants in the Americas.
Opinion By Robert C. Schwaller Special to The Kansas City Star August 31, 2025 7:12 AM
Then-Florida Education Commissioner Manny Diaz and Gov. Ron DeSantis oversaw the introduction of new educational standards that require students to learn that enslaved people “developed skills which, in some instances, could be applied for their personal benefit."
Slavery’s place in U.S. history has once again become a flashpoint in public discourse. On one hand, President Donald Trump has criticized Smithsonian institutions, including the National Museum of African American History, for focusing too much on “how horrible our country is, how bad slavery was, and how unaccomplished the downtrodden have been.” He laments the absence of stories about “success,” “brightness” and “the future.”
On the other hand, Florida’s new educational standards require students to learn that enslaved people “developed skills which, in some instances, could be applied for their personal benefit.”
This contradictory messaging is confusing. If slavery was so horrific that we should avoid discussing it, why simultaneously insist on highlighting its supposed benefits? The proponents of this narrative want it both ways: to downplay the brutality of slavery while extracting a sliver of usefulness from its coerced labor.
What’s most revealing about this framing is how it strips slavery of its enduring legacies — how it shaped ideologies of race, the material realities of Black life and the very structure of American society. It also erases the stories of Black Americans who resisted, survived and built lives of meaning and purpose in the face of unimaginable oppression — a struggle that continues in the wake of slavery’s long afterlife.
If Trump wants stories of “success” and “brightness,” he need look no further than the countless Black Americans — before and after abolition — who pursued freedom, autonomy, family, love and community. These are the very values the president champions as quintessentially American.
Even Florida’s teaching standard could be reframed to honor the truth. As written, it echoes the paternalism of enslavers: “Slavery (the enslavers) taught slaves skills that benefitted them.” In this version, the enslaver is the active agent, the enslaved person merely the passive recipient. But the real story — the one filled with brightness — is about the choices made by Black Americans who took those skills and used them to build lives, communities and futures. The benefit didn’t come from the enslaver’s coercion. It came from the Black Americans’ ingenuity, resilience and determination.
This disconnect reveals a deeper legacy of slavery that still permeates our political discourse: the refusal to see Black Americans as active producers of the American story. In this narrative, they are acted upon, never acting. But those of us who study Black history know the opposite is true. When we center the lives, choices and achievements of Black Americans, we pierce the veil of injustice to uncover a narrative filled with brilliance.
Right here in the Kansas City metropolitan area, we can look to the historic site of Quindaro in Kansas City, Kansas, to find stories that embody the perseverance of the human spirit in the face of adversity. Founded in the 1850s by abolitionists, members of the Wyandot Nation and Black freedom seekers, Quindaro became a vital stop along the Underground Railroad, offering refuge to those fleeing slavery. It was also home to the first Black educational institution west of the Mississippi River.
Though the darkness of slavery permeates Quindaro’s history, its legacy is one of collaboration, aspiration and hope. It highlights that Black history and Indigenous history are American history. Most important, the true stories of Black Americans remind us of what can emerge when communities unite in pursuit of justice and freedom.
Dr. Robert C. Schwaller is a professor and department chair of the department of history at the University of Kansas. His research focuses on the African diaspora to Latin America and the experiences of Africans and their descendants in the Americas.
