Just before the Fourth of July, NBC News ran a feature on the room, setting off a spate of coverage about the dig. Many of these stories described Hemings, the mother of six children with Jefferson, as the former president's "mistress." The Inquisitr, the Daily Mail, AOL and Cox Media Group all used the word (though Cox later updated its wording). So did an NBC News tweet that drew scathing criticism, though its story accurately called her "the enslaved woman who, historians believe, gave birth to six of Jefferson's children." The Washington Post also used "mistress" in a headline and a tweet about Hemings's room in February.
Language like that elides the true nature of their relationship, which is believed to have begun when Hemings, then 14 years old, accompanied Jefferson's daughter to live with Jefferson, then 44, in Paris. She wasn't Jefferson's mistress; she was his property. And he raped her.
Such revisionist history about slavery is, unfortunately, still quite common. In 2015, Texas rolled out what many saw as a "whitewashed " version of its social studies curriculum that referred to enslaved Africans as "immigrants" and "workers" and minimized slavery's impact on the Civil War. One concerned parent spoke out, forcing a textbook publisher to revise some of the teaching materials.
In a speech at the Democratic National Convention last year, Michelle Obama reminded Americans that no less a symbol of our government than the White House was built by those in bondage. In response, then-Fox News host Bill O'Reilly offered a softer, gentler take: Those enslaved workers were "well fed and had decent lodgings provided by the government," he said. That they had no choice in their food, lodging or whether they even wanted to do the backbreaking work of building Washington by hand was nowhere to be found in O'Reilly's version.
That same sanitization of history happened again with the Hemings news. On Twitter, some users defended the "mistress" label, suggesting, essentially, that Jefferson and his slave may have truly loved each other. One person even went so far as to wonder whether "Hemings's exalted wisdom and beauty compelled Jefferson's love" and whether "she was perhaps not a victim but an agent of change?"
Jefferson could have forced Hemings into a sexual relationship no matter what she wanted, though. And it's impossible to know what Hemings thought of Jefferson. As with many enslaved people, her thoughts, feelings and emotions were not documented. According to Monticello.org, there are only four known descriptions of the woman who first came to Jefferson's plantation as a baby on the hip of her mother, Elizabeth Hemings, whom Jefferson also owned.
Jefferson, an avid writer, never mentioned Hemings in his work. He did, however, grapple with issues of emancipation throughout his life. In his "Notes on the State of Virginia," Jefferson spent a substantial section attempting to answer the question, "Why not retain and incorporate the blacks into the state, and thus save the expence [sic] of supplying, by importation of white settlers, the vacancies they will leave?" Despite fathering Hemings's children, Jefferson argued against race mixing because black people were "inferior to the whites in the endowments both of body and mind."
Other slave-owning founders rose above the times to change their minds about the dreadful institution — including Ben Franklin, who became an outspoken abolitionist later in life, and George Washington, who freed his enslaved servants in his will. But Jefferson did no such thing. He owned 607 men, women and children at Monticello, and though some argue that he "loved" Hemings, he granted freedom to only two people while he was alive and five people in his will — and never to her.
Romanticizing Hemings and Jefferson's so-called relationship minimizes the deadly imbalance of power that black people suffered under before the Civil War. It also obscures our collective history as a nation that moved from being built on the blood, bones and backs of enslaved African Americans and indigenous people, to being the imperfect, hopeful and yet still unequal country we are today.