Before Phillis Wheatley published her book of poems in 1773, she’d had to withstand an interrogation by 18 men deemed “the most respectable characters in Boston.” Their task was to determine whether an enslaved girl, estimated to be about 18 or 19 years old at the time, had in fact written the poems herself, given widespread disbelief that a person like her—African, Black, female, young—could deliver such exquisite words.