Photo by Masaaki Komori on Unsplash
In a move that quickly sparked concern, the National Park Service (NPS) made quiet but significant changes to its official page on the Underground Railroad earlier this year. The update involved the removal of a prominent photograph of Harriet Tubman, as well as a quote in which she described her role as a conductor on the Railroad. In place of Tubman’s image and words, the revised version featured a set of postage stamps showing “Black/white cooperation” and adjusted the language to emphasize liberty, freedom, and unity.
Missing from the new version was any detailed mention of slavery or the violence it entailed. Instead, the updated text highlighted how the Underground Railroad supposedly “bridged divides,” shifting the focus from rebellion and resistance to collaboration and harmony. This reframing raised eyebrows among historians and advocates alike, who viewed it as a concerning revision of a painful yet crucial chapter in American history.
The change seemed to downplay the Underground Railroad’s core purpose: an illegal, risky operation that helped enslaved Black people escape a system that denied them basic human rights. For many, Harriet Tubman wasn’t just a contributor to the cause — she symbolized it. Her erasure from the narrative felt like more than just an edit; it was a reimagining of the past.
Public Outcry Leads to Quick Reversal
The response to the altered webpage was swift and unforgiving. Historians, civil rights groups, and cultural institutions like the National Parks Conservation Association voiced deep concern. Their message was clear: changing the story in this way distorts history and disrespects the people who risked their lives for freedom.
The backlash gained attention in major media outlets like The New York Times, pushing the National Park Service to issue a formal statement. According to NPS spokesperson Rachel Pawlitz, the changes were not approved by the agency’s senior leadership or by the Department of the Interior. Upon discovery, the website was promptly returned to its original form, with Tubman’s photo and quote reinstated.
While this restoration calmed some tensions, it also brought attention to a wider trend. The Tubman incident wasn’t isolated — it fit into a larger movement of shifting and scrubbing content that highlights racial history, particularly the contributions and suffering of marginalized groups in the United States.
The Growing Pattern of Historical Reframing
The alteration of the Tubman section is part of a broader effort tied to policies implemented during Donald Trump’s presidency. Under his administration, an executive order was passed that significantly scaled back federal support for diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) programs. Agencies across the government were directed to remove or revise content that emphasized racial and social justice themes.
One consequence of this directive was a widespread removal of historical materials that focused on people of color. For instance, the Department of Defense deleted — and later restored — an article honoring Jackie Robinson’s military service. Nearly 400 books were also removed from the U.S. Naval Academy library, including works such as I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou and a biography of Trayvon Martin.
These actions reflect an organized retreat from uncomfortable truths. By labeling DEI efforts as “divisive,” some political leaders have advocated for a version of history that centers unity over conflict, even when that comes at the cost of accuracy. Critics argue that this approach doesn’t just reshape the past — it whitewashes it.
Why Tubman’s Story Still Matters
Harriet Tubman is not just a historical figure; she represents the essence of moral courage. Born into slavery, she escaped and then risked her life repeatedly to help others do the same. She led scores of enslaved people to freedom through the Underground Railroad, navigating hostile territory under threat of capture or death. Her bravery was not merely symbolic — it was active, radical, and defiant.
To remove Tubman from a discussion of the Underground Railroad is to strip the story of its urgency and grit. It shifts the focus away from the individuals who defied an inhumane system and toward a sanitized version of events. In this softened narrative, oppression is minimized, and the fierce struggle for justice becomes little more than a historical footnote.
Tubman’s presence matters because she challenges the idea that freedom came easily or peacefully. Her life reminds us that freedom, for many Americans, had to be seized — often in the face of insurmountable odds. She is not just part of the story; she is the heartbeat of it.
The Cost of Sanitizing the Past
Historical editing isn’t just about aesthetics — it affects how people understand the present. When figures like Tubman are reduced or omitted, and when slavery is reframed as a distant background detail, the message is clear: the full reality of American history is too inconvenient for public display.
This trend has long-term consequences. It shapes how young people learn about race, justice, and democracy. It influences public discourse, affecting how we talk about inequality and what we believe the country stands for. And it can silence the contributions of those who fought to make the nation live up to its ideals.
The brief disappearance of Harriet Tubman from a government site serves as a reminder that history is not just what happened — it’s how we choose to tell it. When the telling becomes selective, when it favors comfort over truth, we risk losing sight of who we really are and how far we still have to go.
