Black Influence Everywhere: A Reflection on the Lives of Harrison, Du Bois, and Van Der Zee

Is it the place, the time, or the convergence that compels people to do extraordinary things? I found myself pondering this question during a quiet afternoon volunteering at the Samuel Harrison Society House in Pittsfield, Massachusetts. As I waited for visitors, I immersed myself in a book detailing the heritage of African Americans in the Upper Housatonic Valley. This region has nurtured individuals of national and international significance. Among them: Samuel Harrison, a preacher and Civil War advocate; James Van Der Zee, a photographer and artist; and W.E.B. Du Bois, a sociologist and social activist.

As I sat in Harrison’s historic home, I felt as though I were in dialogue with these men. I wondered whether they had ever met. What might a conversation among them have sounded like in 1895? Harrison would have been 77, Du Bois 27, and Van Der Zee just 9 years old. Their lifespans collectively span 165 years, bridging the 19th and 20th centuries and embodying distinct waves of Black liberation consciousness.

I share something with each of them: I am a Black man of African descent, living in a society shaped by a racialized capitalist system that remains deeply anti-Black. One of these men was born into slavery; the other two were not. I am a naturalized American citizen, separated from them by 80 to 144 years. Yet despite the temporal distance, their lives continue to instruct and inspire me.

Van Der Zee is remembered for his poignant photographic documentation of African American life, particularly during the Harlem Renaissance of the 1920s and ’30s. His commercial photography studio captured weddings, community events, and everyday moments, reminding us that the image matters. His archive, housed at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, honors him as “the world-renowned chronicler of Black life in New York City.”

Harrison is celebrated for his religious conviction and his advocacy for equal pay for Black soldiers during the Civil War. His Pittsfield home, now a historic site, commemorates his legacy and the contributions of African American soldiers.

Du Bois, born in Great Barrington, Massachusetts, is revered for his intellectual brilliance and political activism. His work responded to the failures of Reconstruction and laid the foundation for critical race theory and sociological inquiry. Among his many writings, The Souls of Black Folk remains a seminal text. Though his hometown once had a fraught relationship with him, recent decades have seen a shift toward reverence. In August 2025, a statue of Du Bois was unveiled in front of the Great Barrington Public Library, marking a symbolic homecoming. The event drew a large crowd of advocates, local leaders, and community members who had long pushed for his recognition.

From a constructivist perspective, these men crafted counter-narratives in response to the dominant culture of their time. Their work—whether through sermons, scholarship, or photography—challenged a rigid USA caste system and demonstrated both direct and subtle forms of activism. A critical sociological lens reveals how they navigated and resisted the structures of racial oppression, each in his own way.

Historical sites like Harrison’s home evoke not just memory, but moral urgency. They remind us of the forces that shaped the past and the counterforces that resisted them. Standing in that house, I felt a connection to a man who lived a century ago, and a renewed commitment to the ideals he championed.

Together, Harrison, Du Bois, and Van Der Zee represent a continuum of Black liberation consciousness—local in origin, global in impact. Though Du Bois died 62 years ago and Harrison over a century ago, their legacies endure. Their lives underscore the relevance of Black resistance and creativity in every era.

The struggle continues today—in trade unionism, Afrocentric activism, and the arts, including photography, music, and literature. Their lived experiences embolden us. We are inspired by their memories and called to carry the torch forward.

African Americans in the United States are like the thread that holds a garment together—often invisible, but essential. If you pull that thread, the whole fabric unravels. This metaphor came to mind as I reflected on the role of African Americans in New England, especially in western Massachusetts, Connecticut, and neighboring states. Across generations, Black Americans have held this country accountable to its professed values of equality, justice, and human dignity.

At the unveiling of the Du Bois statue, former Governor Deval Patrick responded to someone who asked, “Where are all the Black people?” His answer: “They are everywhere.” At first, I nodded in agreement—I’ve often asked that same question. In the Berkshires, I’m frequently the only Black person in the room. It can feel isolating. But when viewed through a historical and functional lens, Black people have always been present, exerting pressure on the nation’s conscience. Even when invisible, they are there—holding things together, demanding accountability.

Harrison, Du Bois, and Van Der Zee are enduring examples of African Americans whose influence permeates American society. Their presence is everywhere.

by Colin A. R. Adams

Colin A. Adams is a sociologist, educator, and reflective traveler whose work explores the intersections of race, history, and human connection. He writes to illuminate the invisible threads that bind us across time and place.