A Shoemaker's Song of Freedom
- Janet Davenport, Writer, Storyteller, Ordained Minister
- 7 days ago
- 5 min read
Updated: 5 days ago
Everybody talking about Heaven ain't going there, according to the Negro Spiritual, "All God's Chillun Got Shoes." But those who do can count on receiving a new pair of shoes.
When the song initially arose from the depths of the oral slave tradition, shoes represented much more than meets the eye in today's world of brand-name sneakers and footwear fads.
Enslaved people were forced to go barefoot as part of slavery's aim to obliterate their humanity. Shoes, on the other hand, symbolized dignity, self-worth, and belonging. A close listen to the song reveals a simple yet layered message within the lyrics. Without skipping a beat, they shine a light on the stark contrast between God's justice and the hypocrisy of self-described white Christians.
The song's spiritual insight and call for justice reverberate across the corridors of time like a thousand djimbe drums. America continues to confront the wounds inflcted from centuries of Black enslavement—psychologically, systemically, and structurally.
Negro Spirituals, especially when sung in community, resound in protest against ongoing injustice, discrimination, and bigotry. They serve as a reminder that the road we trod to freedom is long and stony as noted in the Negro National Anthem composed by James Weldon Johnson. The race is far from over.
Many Americans, notably Latino voters in the 2024 presidential election and other individuals from so-called communities of color, seemed to think they were exempt from racial hostility. Racism, like slavery, is a relic of the past, they insisted.
But the 2025 edition of white backlash, driven by the nation's top elected leader, should shatter any lingering illusions of liberty and justice for all. Those who know their history know this is the way white supremacists have always responded to significant gains made by Blacks and other marginalized people throughout history: From Reconstruction and the Civil Rights Movement to Affirmative Action and the diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives of today.
Wearing red hats, and brandishing American flags and Bibles, white nationalists evoke images of the "ravenous wolves" in sheep clothing Jesus warned his disiciples about in Scripture.
I often wonder how many of them are direct descendants of the bigots and charlatans my ancestors battled? Even if not their biological progeny, they are certainly their mental offspring; disgruntled and entitled heirs, and beneficiaries of privileges built on the suffering and sacrifice of others, particularly indigenous and enslaved people.
Composed by a materially and morally deprived people, the spiritual about shoes endures not only as a protest song but for the timeless theological restoration it offers. It's core message holds true: "... everybody talkin' about Hebben ain't goin' there." And like a host of other songs born out of the Black gospel tradition, it inherently counters the colonized image of Jesus.
It reclaims God's identity as revealed in the New Testament, the cornerstone of the Christian faith. The song relocates Jesus, a brown-skinned, woolly-haired Jew of Middle Eastern descent, to the correct context of His earthly ministry.
Fully human and fully Divine, Jesus championed the marginalized with an unwavering commitment to justice and righteousness not only in Heaven but also on Earth.
Reclaiming Human Dignity: Stitching a New Destiny
The song, its symbolism, and its message were pressed into my spirit as a backdrop for re-membering my 2nd-great grandfather, Randall Davenport. As I wrote in the introduction to this series, to re-Member means more than recalling the past. It means to put back together that which has been lost or torn away from the whole.
In the face of people, institutions and systems that have dismembered, and continue to dismemember and marginalize others, namely Black and Brown people, remembering becomes a sacred act of healing.
My paternal ancestor was a devoted family man of faith and forebearance, who was a shoemaker during his enslavement on a plantation in Oglethorpe Georgia, the county seat of Lexington.
His skill empowered him to bring a measure of dignity to his own life, his family and other slaves in the community.
His story resonates deeply within me, as a craftswoman and artisan. I can relate to the sensory alchemy and synergy that occurs when your medium comes in contact with the skin of your hands, whether its fibers, metal, paint, or stones.
There is a grace that comes from building and creating works of purpose and beauty with your hands. In the midst of his oppression, Randall's hands and knowledge allowed him to create something tangible, useful, and at times beautiful. In a world that denied his humanity, his skill demonstrated and affirmed his intelligence and worth.
The ability to create, build, and transform gives a person a quiet sense of power and pride. Stitch-by-stitch, every shoe my great-great-grandfather made or mended served as an invitation to create and restore. Each new sole he shaped, from the smallest ones for enslaved children to the largest adult, was a chance to put his skills and tools to work.
I imagine him focused, paying close attention to the quality of his work, determined to make shoes as comfortable as possible for enslaved souls forced to endure the harsh conditions of the land. And perhaps, even if just for fleeting moments, my great-great-grandfather felt free. I can almost see him in my mind's eye at his workbench, surrounded by the scent of leather sweetened by the humidity Georgia's heat and his sweat. At his bench, he had an altar, a sacred place to pray, and reflect, to escape the misery of enslavement.
Each pair of shoes placed in his hands was a reminder that all God's children were born into the human species with two feet; for this is only one race. I am convinced his skills helped him cultivate the courage and audacity to dream beyond what looked possible: to walk by faith, and not by sight (2 Corinthians 5:5-7).
If he did not live to see his dream fulfilled of owning his own land, building a home, taking a wife, and protecting the children he hoped to have one day, he prayed that future generations of his bloodline would.
As he labored, I can almost hear my great-great-grandfather humming the spirituals sung in the fields and across the plantation. Their enslavers, morally blinded by greed and power built on mythology and superstition, listened in amusement as they ignorantly assumed the slave songs were a sign of their contentment and happiness in bondage.
They misinterpreted enslaved people's complex melodies, rich heartfelt rhythms, and faith as further proof that Black people were simple, childlike creatures, who benefited from bondage by them, a self-anointed superior race of Christian people.
As this and other racist tropes and narratives persist, we the descendants of people who built this land have a sacred duty to turn up the volume of the past, not mute it.
(There is more to the story. Please join me in the next installment as the journey of Randall and his footsteps to freedom unfold. We will explore the complexities and trauma of plantation life in a corrupted racial hierarchy and the hardships and challenges faced by newly freed slaves during the Reconstruction and Jim Crow era).
All God’s Chillun Got Shoes (lyrics)
All God’s chillun got shoes,
All God’s chillun got shoes,
When I get to Heaven Gonna put on my shoes,
Gonna walk all over God’s Heav’n.
Chorus:
Heav’n, Heav’n,
Ev’rybody talkin’ ‘bout Heav’n ain’t goin’ there,
Heav’n, Heav’n,
Gonna walk all over God’s Heav’n.
All God’s chillun got robes,
All God’s chillun got robes,
When I get to Heav’nGonna put on my robe,
Gonna shout all over God’s Heav’n.
(Chorus)
All God’s chillun got crowns,
All God’s chillun got crowns,
When I get to Heav’n Gonna put on my crown,
Gonna sing all over God’s Heav’n.
(Chorus)
Heav’n, Heav’n,
Ev’rybody talkin’ ‘bout Heav’n ain’t goin’ there,
Heav’n, Heav’n.
Resources
"Deep River: "The Negro Spiritual Speaks of Life and Death," Rev. Dr. Howard Thurman
Slave Songs of the United States, Smithsonian Library, Online
Slave Songs of the United States, Library of Congress, Online
The Book of Negro Spirituals, James Weldon Johnson (1871-1925), Internet Archie
Comments