Week in review: Library of Congress, Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture, and the U.S. Capitol

I’ve had this recurring dream for more than a decade that, after years of working as a professional adult, I learn that I never passed my high school Early American History class, and therefore my high school diploma and college degree are invalid. And so I scramble, trying to figure out how to re-take the class and earn my credentials. It’s a terrifying dream, and I always shake myself awake, dripping in sweat.

History was by far my worst subject in school; all the dates and people and wars and treaties and acts…it was all so overwhelming, and my brain could not keep the information straight. Basically every history class I ever took required a certain amount of negotiations with my instructors to convince them I deserved a good grade based solely on the amount of effort I put into studying, even if my tests didn’t reflect that effort. And the longer we live in the D.C. metro area, the more I realize just how much I missed out on in my American history classes growing up. This city is fascinating, and there is so much history to discover that it makes my head spin. This week, we explored more of our nation’s capital on two separate field trips, and I learned just as much as the kids about our government and history. Turns out, all I needed was a good field trip or two.

Tuesday, the kids and I spent the day in D.C. We first toured the Library of Congress, and then after enjoying lunch at sweetgreen, a fresh salad-bar spot, we walked nearly two miles to spend the couple of hours we had left introducing ourselves to the National Museum of African American History and Culture.

The Library of Congress was impressive in its stature and architectural details, but the one downside was that we visited on a Tuesday; this meant that the one reading room kids under the age of 16 are allowed into wasn’t even open. I didn’t understand this when reading the library’s Web site, because though the site says its Young Readers Center and Programs Lab is available Wednesday through Saturday, it also states that children can actually read book in the Children’s Collection, so I thought those were two different things. It was disappointing to learn upon arrival that the kids wouldn’t be able to see the children’s area at all, but we were still able to tour the Main Reading Room, which is available at specific times on a limited basis. It was a quick tour; we couldn’t touch anything and no one was allowed to speak. (I think it’s the quietest my kids have ever been.) There wasn’t a guide explaining details about the room. We walked in, circled the center walkway, and walked right back out (but not before I sat my kids on a bench in front of the huge wall clock and snapped their photo!).

We found a guide in the Great Hall who was more than happy to give the children a quick history lesson and some insight into the features of the library, including all the unusual baby carvings adorning the staircases. (Each one has a “job” and is holding or surrounded by objects that provide clues as to what that job is—farmer, teacher, printer, etc.) We enjoyed seeing the Gutenberg Bible, and understanding the significance of the printing process in distributing copies of the Bible into the hands of common citizens. We perused Thomas Jefferson’s library and watched a video about the importance of photography in history in the Southwest Gallery. We saw the first map ever printed with America labeled on it—“our nation’s birth certificate, if you will,” the library volunteer remarked. A gentleman from Egypt was studying the map and explained to us the history of his region and how he couldn’t recognize any of the names of the surrounding countries because they were in Latin and from “a long, long time ago.”

I, for one, could not get over the intricate mosaic tile floors, and found myself (as I typically do) photographing the floors more than the artifacts in such buildings. The Italian Renaissance Beaux-Arts style architecture really is something to behold, and it’s always amazing to me how these buildings were constructed with such elaborate detail.

After the Library of Congress, we grabbed a quick bite before walking to the African American History and Culture Museum. This building, located on the corner facing the White House and the Washington Monument, has always caught my eye when walking down the streets near the Mall. It’s absolutely stunning, and the inside is even more so.

We only had two hours inside the museum, and we barely made it halfway through the concourses on the bottom floor that highlight the earliest African-American history. We took our time, reading all of the displays and discussing each one. A lot of the information presented in the first exhibit was material we’d already studied in school multiple times, but the museum really brought history to life, and I was determined not to brush past any of the displays or treat any of it as common. As a white, Christian family with ancestry rooted in enslavement of African-Americans, our role at this museum was to lament, to grieve, to resolve to fight for progress. It was emotionally gripping, to say the least. I understand the reason there is a contemplative court, a large room with a cascading waterfall and fountain where individuals can catch their breath, reflect, and process all of the information before moving on from the history galleries. After just two hours in the history collections, including spending some time in the Emmett Till Memorial Room, we needed it. And as the court was half-full, I recognized that we weren’t the only ones.

We also enjoyed the music collection in the Culture Galleries on the fourth level before we left the museum, where we saw priceless memorabilia from the likes of James Brown, Jimmi Hendrix, Louis Armstrong, Aretha Franklin, and the Jackson Five, just to name a few. We also made sure to set our eyes on the Black Panther costume, of course.

Yesterday, our entire family scheduled a tour of the U.S. Capitol. We had an amazing tour guide named Charlie, and we were able to see the original Supreme Court room (where they met in the 1800s), the Rotunda, the Crypt, and the National Statuary Hall, or the “Old Hall of the House,” where the House of Representatives originally met.

The Rotunda is of course breathtaking, with its beautiful paintings, statues, and architectural details. We craned our necks to view the cast iron dome ceiling’s The Apotheosis of Washington 180 feet up, painted in the fresco technique by Constantino Brumidi in 1865. The mural is beautiful, but as in the Library of Congress, where there are impressively built brazen images of Roman gods and goddesses, I wrestle with the idea of elevating our first president to the rank of a god (which is what apotheosis actually means). It baffles me why we glorify our historical figures to that magnitude, even considering their contributions to our nation…but I digress.

In the Crypt, Charlie explained that the plethora of sandstone columns (40 total) were in fact built to the support the structure of the Rotunda above it, weighing millions of pounds. Charlie took a moment to point out the markings of hand tools on the columns, which were constructed by enslaved labor. We took a moment of silence to honor those who built the Crypt, literally with their bare hands, and in remorse for the fact that enslaved people were forced to build our nation’s symbol of a nation for its people, called to be free.

It’s called “the Crypt” because it was originally intended to sit atop the burial sites of George and Martha Washington; however, they remained buried at their home at Mount Vernon. In the center of the room is a white marble “compass stone” that marks the exact center of Washington, D.C., where the four quadrants it was divided into actually meet. The Capitol features two statues submitted from each state in our nation; the Crypt houses 13 statues, from the original 13 colonies.

The resounding message of the Capitol tour was that this building was built for the people, where our representatives and senators work to further the interests of the people of this nation. This is our Capitol, Charlie repeated frequently. It was built for us. But what does that mean, exactly? That we should trust our lawmakers have our best interests at heart? That when those interests seem compromised, we can storm the doors of the Capitol and wreak havoc on our own house? Or that we should find ways to engage with our leaders more regularly rather than sticking our heads in the sand and leaving the policies to the professionals?

Honestly, there’s a lot to unpack here for me personally. It’s hard to marvel over marble and stone when I know the hands that touched it were in shackles. It’s hard to stand in awe of our leaders and decision-makers, when I know that back-door, underhanded political games take place within these walls. I wrestle so much with our nation’s dark history, mingled with a solemn appreciation for the men (and women, enslaved and free), who built this country. Their decisions and actions are grievous and horrifying at times, but they also showed tremendous courage and resilience. And so I’m learning to accept our nation for what it is: a hot mess. (No, just kidding.) It’s ever-evolving, complex, imperfect. It’s a beautifully diverse land with a complicated, messy history, working out its redemption the best way it knows how, growing and learning along the way. And I’m learning right along with it.