“The institution of slavery produced offspring whose fathers considered them as property.”
The Hickerson Slave Legacy
Knowing where you come from should be at the forefront of everyone’s minds as they reflect on their heritage. Ancestors’ lives are the building blocks of future foundations. We are all born of two parents, and each side has its own story. On my father’s side, I know his name, that he was born in Mississippi, and that he served in World War II. I recall meeting his mother when I was about five years old, but that is about all I remember, because he abandoned the family shortly thereafter.
On my mother’s side, I come from the Martin family on her mother’s side and the Hickerson family on her father’s side. Over the years, I asked my mother as many questions as possible to better understand our history. The Martin family is well documented through photos and oral history passed down over the years. As for her father’s side, it’s a bit complicated. My mother’s father wasn’t around because he was married and had other children, but he resurfaced decades later.
I won’t get into too much detail because this essay isn’t about their relationship but about his lineage. I met him in my early thirties at one of the Hickerson family reunions. It was wonderful to see my mother interact with her father after all the years apart. I met many family members for the first time, and the different hues explained why my mother had very fair skin and why her maternal siblings, who all had different fathers, were a bit darker-skinned. My mother looked very similar to her half-siblings on her father’s side. To say the least, many well-kept secrets went to the grave.
During the meet-and-greet, I felt awkward explaining who I was and how I was related to my uncles, aunts, and cousins. I’m quite sure they knew about my siblings and me, but what had they been told? I managed to talk about general topics and avoid any family drama I might not have been aware of. The one thing that stood out throughout the reunion was that everyone seemed exuberant about being a Hickerson, and I wondered why.
So, this is where I will begin. When I spoke earlier about the different hues of my family members, I knew many were biracial or had significant European ancestry. In the years after the reunion, I took a DNA test and learned that I was 82% African (primarily Nigerian) and 18% European (primarily English and German). I knew that most Black Americans have a similar European percentage due to the history of slavery and the sexual assaults committed by white slave owners. While I try my best not to think about it that way, it is the truth. Someone sexually assaulted a female ancestor, which imbued my bloodline with this non-consensual legacy, and I wanted to find out who was responsible.
For those who are into research, finding this information will send you down a rabbit hole as you try to connect the dots. That’s exactly what it did to me. I wanted to know the who, why, when, and where of our family. I didn’t expect to uncover crucial information, so anything would’ve sufficed. However, as part of the DNA results, a list of possible familial matches is provided. I discovered that my mother had another half-brother from her father, whom I’ve been in contact with since learning about him.
I also found a photo and the names of my great-great-grandfather, Hugh Hickerson (center), my great-grandfather, Arthur Hickerson (left), and my great-granduncle, William Hickerson (right). Hugh Hickerson (Mulatto, 1838-1910) was born into slavery and “owned” by Lytle Hickerson (1793-1884); see the picture on the left. There is speculation that the slave owner may also be Hugh’s father due to a slight resemblance.
Growing up, I never thought about being a descendant of enslaved people. I had heard all the stories from my maternal grandma and great-aunts about our background. They were all “Domestic engineers,” a fancy term for housemaids. They spent their entire working lives caring for white families, whom they claimed treated them well. For whatever reason, they never, and I mean never, spoke about our ancestors being enslaved or mistreated by white folks. I didn’t know whether they were trying to protect their grandkids from that history, but I wished they had shared more with us. It might’ve lessened the contempt for a societal system in which Black women had to cook, clean, and care for the children of white people, while their own children couldn’t receive adequate care from their own mothers.
Going down the research rabbit hole has made me appreciate the success my ancestors achieved despite the vestiges of a former slave system, and has helped me understand where we came from. I will continue this exploration because I want my kids to know as much as possible about their ancestry, and there will be no secrets, only transparency, regardless of its tainted past.
For the record, I will never excuse the poor decisions the Lytle Hickerson family made. They were not superior, and their ownership of slaves, regardless of the times back then, is reprehensible. No human being should ever feel that it’s okay to own another human being. This speaks volumes about who they were. The riches they accumulated while they owned my ancestors and later employed them as sharecroppers after emancipation were still exploitation.
The Hickerson family owned many properties and plantations during that era. They could’ve been better people and given their former slaves land without compensation, but they weren’t. As a result of my research, I learned that some of the men served in the Confederate Army to preserve the institution of slavery and racial hierarchy. Moreover, I found a copy of the “Memorandum of Agreement” between Lytle Hickerson, Hugh Hickerson, and three other sharecroppers. It is interesting to note that in the document, where it called for a signature, Hugh and the others signed with an “X.” A quick search of the 1900 census showed that he was never taught to read or write. Also, as per the agreement, Lytle stated that if at any time the sharecroppers didn’t treat the Hickersons with respect and uphold the agreement in its entirety, they would be kicked off the property. In later years, the census also noted that he paid his way out of sharecropping bondage and went on to own his land outright. I’m so proud of this accomplishment because I believe it set the standard for future generations, which would explain the pride in what our family did to bring greater recognition to a surname that was forced upon them. Now I fully understand what I recognized in my family members.
My entire family has had to reckon with the history of slavery, Jim Crow, and segregation while trying to understand it and its impact on our psyches. I am spiritually guided by their pain, struggle, and ultimate resurrection from a hideous system of bondage. I am proud to have a clearer sense of who I am and to be better able to share this history with my children. I hope they will carry the story forward to future generations.
Lastly, I hope that, to a greater extent, one day the entire Western world that was involved in slavery and colonialism will honestly face their inner demons and acknowledge the damage and trauma they’ve inflicted upon others.
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