By Dr. Frances Murphy Draper
AFRO Publisher and CEO
America cannot afford to whitewash its past. Yet that is exactly what is at stake in the current review of the National Museum of African American History and Culture. To question whether slavery and racism belong in the story of this nation is not only dangerous—it is racist and, quite frankly, ridiculous.
The Smithsonian Institution’s internal review of its museums and exhibitions, prompted by a March executive order, has been described by the White House as a “constructive and collaborative effort” rooted in respect for the Institution’s mission. But let’s be honest about what this really is: an attempt to sanitize history. When politicians decide which stories can be told, truth becomes the first casualty.
The National Museum of African American History and Culture has, since its opening in 2016, drawn millions of visitors from across the United States and around the world. It is the only national museum dedicated solely to preserving and telling the African American story, which means it preserves the American story itself. Its exhibits are not decorative displays; they are America’s receipts—proof of what was bought, built and broken on the backs of enslaved people.
Just as the Holocaust is remembered in all its brutality, so must America reckon with the truth of chattel slavery, Jim Crow and racial terror. Anything less is historical erasure, a rewriting of facts to make the nation appear more palatable. But history is not meant to comfort—it is meant to confront. And only in confrontation do we find the lessons that lead us forward.
The National Museum of African American History and Culture (NMAHC) does not exist to make visitors comfortable. It exists to tell the full story of this nation—its horrors and its triumphs. The shackles, the slave cabins, the lynching photographs are hard to look at, yes, but they are necessary. They remind us of what was endured, resisted and overcome. Are we really prepared to tell our children a fairy tale instead of the truth?
As someone whose own family lived through that history, I know that the story of Black America is one of both pain and perseverance. It is also a story of triumph: of building families, businesses, churches, schools and newspapers in the face of unrelenting barriers. To erase the “ugly parts” is to erase the context that makes our resilience so extraordinary.
We dishonor our ancestors when we pretend that slavery was anything less than a foundational atrocity. We insult the present when we allow political whims to dictate which truths are deemed “acceptable.” And we jeopardize the future when we deprive generations to come of the lessons that only honest history can teach.
This is why NMAHC matters. Located on the National Mall in Washington, D.C., it is not just a building—it is a mirror held up to America. Every exhibit, every artifact, every story says: this happened and it shaped who we are. Visitors leave with a deeper understanding not just of Black history, but of American history, and of the ongoing struggle to build a more just society. That is precisely why efforts to weaken or censor its work are so dangerous.
So, what must we do? We must stand with NMAHC, yes—but also more. We must defend the truth against erasure, preserve history by sharing it with our children and grandchildren, and support the mission by becoming members and advocates. Encourage school trips. Take a neighbor. Contribute what you can. Institutions like this cannot thrive without a community of supporters who recognize their value and refuse to let them be diminished.
The truth of America’s story is not negotiable. It is not subject to political whim. It must be told fully, courageously and without compromise—because history told truthfully is the only kind that heals. Erase the truth, and you erase America itself.
