Harvard’s decision to return 19th-century photographs of enslaved people to the Harriet Tubman Museum in South Carolina marks a meaningful gesture in the long-overdue reckoning with America’s history of slavery and institutional exploitation of Black bodies. These daguerreotypes—taken without consent, stripped of humanity, and used to advance racist pseudoscience—are stark reminders of how academia profited from anti-Black violence.
By returning them, Harvard isn’t just relinquishing possession; it’s acknowledging a moral responsibility. This act helps restore dignity to the descendants of those depicted, placing their ancestors’ images in a space that honors their humanity, culture, and legacy—not one that reduced them to objects of study.
But let’s be clear: this is not closure. It’s a beginning. Returning stolen Black history must become standard, not symbolic. For too long, institutions hoarded the trauma and culture of Black people behind glass and credentials. It’s time for them to not only return the artifacts—but invest in the communities they were taken from.
Harvard University’s recent decision to transfer daguerreotype photographs of enslaved individuals to the International African American Museum (IAAM) in Charleston, South Carolina, marks a major milestone in the ongoing reckoning with historical injustices.
📰 Key Facts:
These photos, dating back to around 1850, depict Renty Taylor and his daughter Delia—two of the earliest known photographic portraits of enslaved people. They were reportedly commissioned by Harvard biologist Louis Agassiz for pseudoscientific racist research.
The agreement comes after a lengthy legal fight by Tamara Lanier, who claims to be a direct descendant of Renty and Delia. Her lawsuit, initiated in 2019, sought both emotional damages and the return of the images. A Massachusetts Supreme Court ruling in 2022 dismissed her ownership claim but allowed her emotional distress claim to proceed.
The settlement, announced on May 28, 2025, transfers the daguerreotypes and five additional photos of enslaved individuals to the IAAM. The financial terms remain confidential.
Harvard, acknowledging the painful history, emphasized proper stewardship and contextualization of the images. Descendants of Agassiz expressed support, with one stating that the outcome “reminds us that the meaning of such objects in museums can and should change.”
Why this matters:
Historic precedent in restitution – This case represents one of the first successful legal challenges returning photographic artifacts of enslaved individuals from an academic institution to a museum dedicated to Black history.
Restoring dignity – The photos, once exploitative material, will now be cared for and presented in a way that honors individual humanity and ancestral memory.
Broader implications – The settlement reflects growing pressure on universities, museums, and archives to reassess how they hold, interpret, and display materials tied to exploitative histories.
What’s next?
The IAAM will receive and curate the images, working alongside descendant advocates, including Tamara Lanier, to ensure sensitive and contextual display.
Harvard has expressed a continued commitment to reflection and public access, indicating potential reevaluations of other sensitive collections in its stewardship.
This headline is not just about changing where objects are housed—it’s about shifting the narrative: giving enslaved individuals agency, dignity, and rightful place within history.
