Arts for the 21st Century

São José

December 3rd, 1794

Portuguese ship leaving the coast of Mozambique

7,000-mile voyage to Maranhão, Brazil.

Names, faces, jobs, talents, goals, skills, ideas, hobbies, friends, families, hopes, dreams

...now slaves

loaded like cattle and sold like chattel

to live, work and die in an unknown land.

 

The São José.

 

Buffeted by strong winds, the ship

the São José

rounded the treacherous Cape of Good Hope

and came apart violently on two reefs.

Storms reduced White sailor and Black slave

to mere mortal men

clawing at turbulent, blue water

desperate not to drown.

 

Only half of them survived the shipwreck that day.

And there, within two days, they were sold again.

 

So this is for you, the slaves of the São José

who saw through salt-stung eyes

the rocks that chewed through man and ship

the struggle of arms too weary to tread water

and brothers, whether through blood and bondage

sink and flail to an ocean’s grave

but you survived—for better or for worse—

and washed upon the shore.

To see the sun rise

on dark brown wood and dark brown bodies

all floating lifelessly on the face of the sea.

 

 

 

This is for you, the slaves of the São José.

Even with nothing left to lose and nothing known to live for

something pumped your chest for one more heartbeat

pushed your arm through one more wave

pried your mouth open for one more gulp

of salty, raging air.

 

Something that whispers

when the finality of death

and the waves lapping greedily at your face

are more choking, more haunting

than the slavery that lies before you.

 

Something that sings

from the lips of faceless descendants

who see you in their mirror

in dark brown skin that defied a ravenous sea

reminding them of the crazed resilience

the desperation

the salt-stung eyes and the broken ship

the children ripped from their parents’ arms

the homes ransacked and friendships betrayed

the chilling ache of a last embrace

the fear of strange lands and no return

the whip-cracked backs and the bodies beaten

the despair of being owned

and, despite all of that

still swam

still fought

and still carried on to shore.