HARPERS FERRY, W.Va. — By the rushing waters where rivers meet, President Trump’s campaign for a more uplifting narrative of American history interfaces with its most formidable obstacle: there is no optimistic spin on slavery.

At Harpers Ferry National Historical Park, staff within the National Park Service are facing a reconsideration of historical storytelling directed from the federal government. The mandate calls for an examination of interpretive materials across all parks, insisting on the removal or alteration of anything deemed to “inappropriately disparage Americans past or living,” especially regarding the brutal legacy of slavery.

Brianna Wheeler, a descendant of an abolitionist involved in John Brown’s raid, insists that the hardship and tragedy of slavery should not be sanitized. “You can’t erase it. It’s our obligation to not let that be erased,” she emphasizes.

Despite some indications of cautious revision in certain parks, others still retain unflinching depictions of slavery. For instance, Fort Pulaski National Monument maintains an exhibit illustrating the violent enforcement of the slave regime.

Changes Under Scrutiny

A recent deadline mandated by the Department of the Interior to eliminate “inappropriate content” from public displays has drawn scrutiny from Democratic lawmakers, prompting calls for accountability regarding any changes made. The Sierra Club reports that over 1,000 items at national parks have been flagged for review, with only one sign actually removed—a modification made to highlight the violent displacement of Indigenous peoples.

As these policies trickle down, the narrative concerning climate change is also under fire, with ten signs removed from Acadia National Park that previously addressed environmental issues. This raises concerns about whether our national parks will serve as honest reflections of history.

Complexities of John Brown’s Legacy

The story of John Brown’s raid remains a point of fierce debate. Once hailed as a hero by some, critics label him a violent radical. Wheeler sees the nuanced legacy of Brown as essential to understanding America's complex past. Her ancestor, Dangerfield Newby, the first raider killed, exemplifies the intertwined narratives of struggle and sacrifice.

“This country must know what really made America,” Wheeler declares firmly. “Who bled, whose blood is in these stones and on these streets.”

This intricate perception of history suggests a shared understanding beyond simple heroism or villainy—recognizing the flawed realities that shape the nation’s narrative.