Black Wall Street and Finding Family History

This past Summer I had the opportunity to travel down to Tulsa, Oklahoma. I haven’t been to Tulsa since I was a teenager. I went from spending almost every childhood summer in Tulsa all the way up until tenth grade, to never visiting. I actually feel guilty as I type that out. But I guess that’s what happens when you grow older, start college prep programs, go to college, travel around to see different places, then go to grad school, and then spend years on a seemingly never ending job hunt so I can be a somewhat financially stable adult.

It was strange being back in Tulsa at first. But as the days went by and I spent more and more time with my great grandmother, I realized how much I missed being there. I spent the majority of my two-week trip in my great grandmother’s room talking to her, watching the Olympics, and napping together lol. Sure, Tulsa is a bit slow going and quiet. But Oklahoma holds so much history and that history gets a bit more personal for me, my living family, and my ancestors.

I found out so much about my family that I didn’t even know. Such as, the uncle of my great grandfather owned a business on Black Wall Street. I originally heard about Black Wall Street and the 1921 race riots from my dad when I was younger. Maybe around 14 or 15 years old. Black Wall Street and Greenwood wasn’t taught in my schools and since I hated learning about racism and white hatred anyway, I took no interest in learning about Greenwood which means I missed out on all the good that came out of Black Wall Street.

Being back in Tulsa was basically a miniature family reunion for me. I got to see family that I hadn’t seen in almost a decade if not more, and I got to meet some new family members that I never knew existed. My uncle Bruce decided to take me, my dad, and grandfather down to where Black Wall Street used to be and it was so humbling to be able to walk down the streets where Black Wall Street once stood in its prime. It was amazing to see all the name plates in the ground naming all the businesses that once stood. But what made it the trip of a lifetime was when I saw a large sign with my great-great-uncle’s business listed.

The Emerson Hotel

It’s one thing to hear about your ancestors owning a business on Black Wall Street. It’s something completely different to actually see the business name on a large plaque along with a multitude of other black owned businesses. Nothing can describe how amazing it feels to not only have ancestors that lived and survived the riots, but to actually share a name with them. I am an Emerson. My great-great uncle was an Emerson and he owned a hotel. A HOTEL! He also owned a cab company but unfortunately, we couldn’t find his company listed on any of the plaques. I was grateful that we found one naming his hotel, and we got in contact with another family member that actually had an old photo of him standing in front of his company’s cab.

We also took a drive to the nearby university campus and took a look around the memorial the university built. The memorial was acknowledging a combination of things. But lo and behold, I found my great grandparents on the memorial. Not only were their names there but their pictures too! I made sure to take lots of photos to show my great grandmother when we got back home. She had no idea her name and picture was even on the memorial. Being there and experiencing that moment really had me wishing my great grandfather was still alive so he could have seen it too.

Being back in Tulsa again after all these years was a trip down memory lane but also a time of learning. Memories of my many childhood summers flooded my mind but it was also nice to learn so many things about my family history. Such as finding out that my great grandmother’s mother spent time in a Native American orphanage. My family has never hidden the fact that we are also Native American. My dad often spoke with pride in his voice when telling me and my siblings what we are. I’ve always known that I am Choctaw and Yuchi, but it caught me completely off guard to learn that my great-great grandmother attended a boarding school for Choctaw children built by missionaries. And that my great grandfather was part Yuchi (a tribe within the Muscogee/Creek nation) and part Osage, and that he and my father, whom he raised as his son, were denied citizenship into either tribe multiple times. And that tribal denial is something that black natives and native mixed individuals have been experiencing for decades.

It’s all just so much to take in, however, it has sparked a little fire in me. I first became interested in tracing my family history back in high school but stopped searching around the time I went away to college. Not only did I just not have the money to continue searching on paid ancestry sites nor was I any good at genealogy research, I also just didn’t have the time. But being back in Oklahoma again rekindled that fire and I have been on a hunt to discover as much as I can about my family history.

What else can I discover about my family members? What else can I learn about my native American heritage?

I’ve already had a running start by learning about my great-great uncle’s hotel. But other little nuggets have been revealing themselves just by talking to my elders, specifically my great grandmother who has made it to the golden age of 96. I’ve learned that she loves turtles and has a collection of them all over her house (turtles are significant in many Native American cultures, including Choctaw), and that her favorite colors are black, white, red, and yellow (the colors of the medicine wheel), and that she absolutely loves pearls and native beadwork. It makes me wonder if maybe some of her native heritage was indeed passed down to her that she just never shared, and that I just never asked about because I was too young to care and only worried about the things going on in my own life.

It’s time for me to reconnect.

I’m glad I got the opportunity to visit Oklahoma again to see my great grandmother and my other family members. My dad turns right back into a little boy when he gets around his grandmother because she is basically his mom, since she and my great grandfather raised him. And with only one great grandparent left, I just want to shower her with as much love as I possibly can before it’s too late and I’m left with shoulda coulda wouldas.

I’m returning to Oklahoma for this upcoming holiday break and I plan to return again during the summer. These are the stories and knowledge that I want to learn about and document. Blacks and natives have had their histories stripped from them for so long, records destroyed, denied things that they can rightfully claim, cultures stamped out. Most times, all we have are the stories and the knowledge of our elders. So that’s what I plan to do. Acknowledge and reclaim my roots, and gather as much knowledge as I can to keep the stories, voices, and spirits of my ancestors alive.