My Visit To The National Museum of African American History and Culture

Having visited most of the Smithsonian museums in Washington, DC, I was disappointed that I didn’t get the opportunity to visit the museum of African American History. When it first opened, it was a pain to try to schedule a visit and by the time things started to slow down Covid came along and I wasn’t going into that museum or any other ones.

Just as well, since the current administration has recently given the place an overhaul that reflects actual history rather than that woke, DEI baloney that it originally was loaded with. Now you can learn the true story of the wonderful experience African-Americans have enjoyed since their ancestors signed up voluntarily for an all expense paid luxury cruise from Africa to our golden shores.

On entering the building visitors embark in miniature 17th century sailing vessels that carry them through time as, along the shoreline, White actors in blackface re-enact the inspiring story of the Blacks’ journey to the New World and all the wonderful perks they have enjoyed since they arrived. Thankfully, the upbeat music accompanying the ride is not “It’s a Small World ” but catchy Trump favorites like “YMCA.”

The new display shows how enrollees were assigned luxury cabins, frolicked in the cruise ship swimming pools by day and in the evening enjoyed five star meals, casino gambling, dancing and star studded performances of the latest music and theater as they crossed the ocean. When the employees disembarked in their new home, traders, noticing they were into S and M by the chains they’d put themselves in, provided vigorous lashings to enhance their pleasure before they were transported to the plantations. There they began their plum jobs picking tobacco and cotton in the healthy fresh air and sunshine. After work, they dined on delectable fare, played their banjos, sang rap and hip-hop hits and danced the Cakewalk before bedding down in the comfort of the beautifully renovated slave quarters.

Things went along swimmingly for our guest workers until Northern states abolished slavery, leaving heartbroken Blacks who were longing for the old plantation and the old folks at home to head south in droves, free of charge, on Harriet Tubman’s southbound underground railroad. Tension over job security mounted. In 1859 the far left-wing, DEI obsessed, John Brown, raided Harpers Ferry. The slaves, outraged, lobbied Robert E. Lee and Jeff Davis to start the Civil War and ensure the status quo. But the war went sideways. Much to their dismay, the workers were all freed.

It took awhile, but things were once again put right by Jim Crow. Now the Blacks could enjoy their exclusive amenities like separate restrooms, water fountains, dining venues and schools. They rode in supreme comfort in the plush back seats of busses. When the KKK burned crosses, the delighted Blacks roasted marshmallows, made s’mores and cheered when troublemakers were lynched.

After those pesky freedom riders interfered with this excellent state of affairs and the communists in Congress and the Supreme Court passed the unconstitutional civil rights acts, the Black communities marched in protest in places like Selma as Whites cheered them on. Dogs nipped playfully at their ankles and police cooled the marchers with welcome sprays from firehoses.

But the demonstrations were unsuccessful (all the way up to the Black Lives Matter ones that protested discrimination against police officers) and Blacks were prevented from resuming their previous privileged role in society.

Until now.

Fortunately, that sad state of affairs is being corrected just as the museum is being upgraded to reflect reality.

Boy am I glad I waited until now to visit it.