Tracing the history of slavery in Charleston, from a cemetery to a DNA swab

A quest to find living descendants of 36 enslaved people has morphed into a project that gives Black residents new clues about their ancestry, wherever it takes them.

April 11, 2024

When Edward Lee learned about a project collecting DNA from black residents like himself in Charleston, South Carolina, he had reason to be skeptical. Knowing that African Americans have been exploited financially and in medical experiments before, he feared that giving up his genetic identity could leave him vulnerable.

But he knew the people behind the Anson Street African Burial Ground Project, having worked with many of them before on similar efforts to preserve the region’s black history.

And they came to him with a unique proposal: With DNA extracted from 36 enslaved people whose bones had been unearthed by a construction crew at the center, researchers were now searching for their living descendants.

Even if he wasn’t related to any of them, Lee thought, perhaps a DNA test could still provide other answers that had eluded him. He could trace his ancestry back to a great-great-grandmother on the one hand, but no further. So last spring he sat still while a researcher gently wiped the inside of his cheek.

“I had to have assurances that we would control the results – that’s the only reason I did it,” Mr Lee said.

Now, dozens of black residents have agreed to play their part in this genetic detective work. Its catalyst came in 2013, when workers building a concert hall stumbled upon what is believed to be the oldest known slave cemetery in Charleston.

Supporters of the project believe it can serve as a model for how to handle preserving forgotten aspects of Black history across the country, before development and time erode them further.

That story is particularly poignant in Charleston, where ships with hundreds of kidnapped Africans aboard once docked, and where community leaders like Lee have spent years fighting to protect cemeteries of enslaved people.

“It feels like every piece of land you step on is imbued with that history,” said Joanna Gilmore, an anthropologist and project member who has dedicated much of her career to chronicling African cemeteries.

In the decade since the cemetery was discovered, Ms. Gilmore and other researchers from the University of Pennsylvania, the College of Charleston and the Charleston community have shed light on the African and Indigenous ancestry of the 36 people buried throughout Anson Street at the end of the 18th century: several men, probably including a mother and child.

Six were probably born in Africa and others were born in or around Charleston. While the graves were unmarked, the bodies were carefully spaced and buried with shrouds or coins meant to cover their eyes.

The “Ancestors,” as they are collectively known, have since been reburied and there are plans to build a fountain surrounded by bronze hands, all modeled after black residents of similar ages to the 36 people found.

But another question remained: were there descendants still alive in Charleston?

However, that quest required persuading as many people in the region as possible to participate. Some agreed because they saw it as a way to safely answer fundamental questions about their family history or to trace their roots beyond Carolina shores.

“Time is not on our side and I feel like if someone doesn’t take a stand to bring attention to family ties, the younger generation won’t,” Karen Wright-Chisolm said. She will then send her swab in the spring of 2023. “In order to teach them, I need to know the information so I can pass it on.”

Others came as a way to pay their respects to enslaved Africans, or simply because their friends suggested giving it a try.

“It’s just a container to plug into,” said Clifton R. Polite Jr., who also participated in creating hand-made molds for the fountain.

So far no direct descendants have been found, something researchers acknowledge may never happen. But the project has shown that each individual result has the potential to transform people’s understanding of their heritage.

La’Sheia Oubré, a professor who has led community engagement in the project, saw not only different regions of Africa reflected in her results, but also markers of German and Asian ancestry.

“For the first time in my life I know where I come from,” he said. “If everyone could do this, they would realize that you are related to someone in one way or another.”

Months after their samples were taken, dozens of participants gathered again in a darkened auditorium. Ms. Gilmore, Dr. Schurr and Dr. Raquel Fleskes, another anthropologist, dove into their findings and discussed how to interpret each bit of genetic data.

Quietly, audience members took photographs of the screens and jotted down the occasional note as Dr. Schurr described how to see which lineage was represented where in his results.

“Just as a reminder, we are all 99.99 equal; everyone in this room is all equal because we are a very recent species,” Dr. Schurr told the room, adding that the results would not “reflect the deep divisions between human populations in genetic terms, because that is not true.”

And then, finally, the participants had a turn to see their results in full.

Mr. Lee was among those who claimed a manila envelope with a lengthy summary of his DNA results. There was a surprise: a small, but unexpected, percentage of Middle Eastern ancestry.

“When the doctor said we’re all 99.9 percent the same, that hits you,” he said.