There are certain spaces that don’t just hold history — they hold breath.
The Avery Research Center for African American History and Culture in Charleston, South Carolina is one of those places.
I had the honor of visiting alongside members of the Association of African American Museums. We gathered not simply as visitors, but as listeners — as people entrusted with stories that deserve to be preserved, protected, and passed on.
The staff graciously walked us through the history of the space and its impact on the Charleston community. The Avery Research Center was originally founded in 1865 as the Avery Normal Institute, a school created to educate newly freed African American children in the aftermath of the Civil War. To stand inside a building rooted in that purpose — education as liberation — was profoundly moving.
After the presentation, we were invited to roam the halls and floors of the building. We were even granted access to portions of their archive — carefully preserved collections that tell stories both beautiful and difficult. Letters. Photographs. Documents. Fragments of lives lived with courage.
One of the most breathtaking rooms in the entire building was the preserved historical classroom. The original wooden floors, the light filtering through tall windows, the quiet stillness — you could almost hear the echoes of children learning, dreaming, preparing for futures that once felt uncertain. Local African American children once sat in that very room, receiving an education that was radical for its time.
It was not lost on me that education in this building was once an act of resistance.
The Avery Research Center does not shy away from truth. Alongside artifacts of pride and progress are the hard reminders of struggle — the weight of systemic injustice, the resilience required to endure it, and the determination to rise anyway. That duality — beauty and truth held together — is what makes the space so powerful.
Charleston is a city known for its historic charm and architectural elegance. But the Avery Research Center is a pillar of a different kind of history — one rooted in community, scholarship, and cultural preservation. It stands as a reminder that African American history is not an aside. It is foundational.
To walk those halls was a privilege. To listen was an honor.
Spaces like this matter. Archives matter. Storytelling matters.
And the Avery Research Center remains a sacred keeper of memory in a city whose story is still unfolding.
Love Deeply,
Megan Pitts
