By: Sharon C. Jenkins
Debra Blacklock-Sloan is a woman on a divine as- signment. With a voice full of conviction and a heart rooted in truth , she has dedicated her life to preserving the African American experience in Houston, Texas—one historical marker, one family story, and one sacred truth at a time.
A fifth-generation Texan and native Houstonian raised in Frenchtown, a culturally-rich section of Houston’s historic Fifth Ward, Blacklock-Sloan reflects on her upbringing with immense pride. Though she didn’t realize it as a child, her neighborhood was steeped in history—something she wouldn’t fully discover until adulthood. “It wasn’t in the textbooks,” she often says. “I didn’t find out it was historic until I was in my forties.”
Still, the seeds of curiosity were planted early. Her father’s habit of reading paperbacks ignited her love of learning. As a young girl, she would sneak his books whenever he wasn’t looking and pore over them, dictionary in hand. That small habit set the stage for a lifelong passion for reading, history, and storytelling.
Blacklock-Sloan credits her parents and early Black educators for nurturing her sense of purpose. “They never had to tell me to do well in school. I instinctively knew I represented them.” Despite the cultural shift brought on by school integration, her foundation in learning remained strong. And while her childhood was largely shielded from the overt racial tensions of the Civil Rights Movement, her later experiences—especially disparities that would fuel her resolve to make a difference.
Though she initially pursued other careers, it was a chance encounter that ultimately redirected her path. While working for Aldine ISD in the library system, a colleague encouraged her to attend a meeting about a proposed Black history museum. Reluctant at first, Blacklock-Sloan went—and that moment would change her life. There, she met the legendary Texas history teacher Mrs. Willie Lee Gay. That meeting led to a mentorship, a network of historians, and eventually a role at the Rutherford B.H. Yates Museum, where Blacklock-Sloan began deep research into Houston’s Black neighborhoods like Freedmen’s Town.
It was through this work that she uncovered stories that had been buried or overlooked—stories of resilience, innovation, and excellence within Black Houston. “When I started researching, I’d search indexes of books on Houston history looking
for the word ‘slavery’ or ‘Black,’ and either it wasn’t there or there were only two sentences. How do you omit the people who built the infrastructure of this country?”
She also credits Patricia Smith Prath- er as a mentor and Shape Community founder Deloyd T. Parker for exposing her to the Civil Rights Movement with his annual Freedom Tours to Southern states.
Blacklock-Sloan has since become a trusted voice in local history, known for her fierce commitment to truth- telling. Her work has led to the placement of more than 35 historical markers around Houston, each one a permanent record of a moment, person, or place that helped shape the city’s Black heritage. “When people introduce me, they say I’ve done over 40 markers—and I haven’t,” she laughs. “But I’m proud of every single one I’ve worked on because each one taught me something new.”
Success, for Blacklock-Sloan, isn’t about financial gain—it’s about fulfillment. She feels most successful when she’s immersed in research, giving a presentation, or passing down knowledge to her grandchildren, whom she affectionately calls her “grands.” At her house, iPads are banned during visits. “I tell them,
‘I’m the iPad. I have the information.’” Instead, she quizzes them on family lineage and rewards them with dollars for each correct answer. “They’ve learned to value our history because they see it’s worth something. Even if it starts with a dollar.”
Despite not encountering overt rac- ism growing up, Blacklock-Sloan is acutely aware of the racial injustices that have shaped America. She’s also determined to correct the myths and misinformation surrounding Black history—particularly narratives about Juneteenth. “We didn’t find out about freedom two years late. That’s a myth. Over 125 Texas newspapers printed the Emancipation Proclamation in 1865. House servants certainly heard the news firsthand because White planters were talking about it. They knew.”
She’s equally passionate about correcting false claims of being “the first” in certain achievements. “There were thriving Black business districts in the early 20th century with grocery stores, theaters, everything. Just because something wasn’t in your generation doesn’t mean it was never done. Do your research.”
Her voice rises when she speaks about legacy and the urgency of preserving Black stories. “There’s a mandate on my life,” she says solemnly. “While I have breath, I must tell our story. I’ve got ten books in my head waiting to be written.” And she’s determined to pass the baton to the next generation, just as her mentors did for her. “We’re stand- ing on the shoulders of giants—people who built a beautiful blueprint for us. Now it’s our job to keep that template alive.”
In a world where identity theft isn’t just digital, but cultural, Debra Blacklock-Sloan is the keeper of receipts—meticulously preserving the documents, oral histories, and monuments that refuse to let our story die. She is a griot in the truest sense, holding a sacred charge to speak the truth, even when others try to erase it.
“Black history can’t be erased,” she says firmly. “Not by textbooks, not by laws, and not by silence. As long as I’m here, I will keep telling our story— straight, unfiltered, and true.”
And Houston is all the richer AA for it.
