https://losscaptureproject.cargo.site Loss/Capture Sun, 01 Nov 2020 20:45:19 +0000 https://losscaptureproject.cargo.site en https://losscaptureproject.cargo.site/Ancestor-and-Descendant-A-Conversation-with-Steven-G-Fullwood Fri, 09 Oct 2020 14:25:33 +0000 Loss/Capture https://losscaptureproject.cargo.site/Ancestor-and-Descendant-A-Conversation-with-Steven-G-Fullwood <img width="1500" height="1000" width_o="1500" height_o="1000" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/cf724608e375b06714cbb2b5d827321eb9f050268b09b91a9aa9eb0ff1ebc91e/3-SGF-Pass-4.jpg" data-mid="85462952" border="0" alt="Illustration by Kiki Lechuga-Dupont." data-caption="Illustration by Kiki Lechuga-Dupont." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/cf724608e375b06714cbb2b5d827321eb9f050268b09b91a9aa9eb0ff1ebc91e/3-SGF-Pass-4.jpg" /> Ancestor and Descendant: A Conversation with Steven G. Fullwood Interview by Steven D. Booth Steven G. Fullwood (he/his) is an archivist, documentarian, and writer. His published works include Black Gay Genius (co-edited with Charles Stephens, 2014), To Be Left with the Body (co-edited with Cheryl Clarke, 2008) and Carry the Word: A Bibliography of Black LGBTQ Books (co-edited with Lisa C. Moore, 2007). He is the former assistant curator of the Manuscripts, Archives &amp; Rare Books Division at the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture. In 1998, he founded the In the Life Archive (ITLA) to aid in the preservation of materials produced by LGBTQ people of African descent. Fullwood is the co-founder of The Nomadic Archivists Project, an initiative that partners with organizations, institutions, and individuals to establish, preserve, and enhance collections that explore the African Diasporic experience. In 2005, Fullwood was honored with a New York Times Librarian Award. Steven D. Booth: Tell us about your background (i.e., who you are, where you work, and what you do). Steven G. Fullwood: I was born and raised on the southside of Toledo, Ohio in a white-flight neighborhood called Kuschwantz1, which was one of two Polish settlements in the early 20th Century. My parents, a Southern father and a Midwesterner mother, are descendants of farmers, preachers, hustlers, domestics, and handymen. My dad sang gospel in a short-lived trio called the Horns of Zion, and my mother was a reader. She would read anything if it caught her attention. Mom loved romance and horror books. I grew up in a musical and literary household with lots of television. I’m the third of five children, the pesky middle kid. And I tried to be a singer and musician, but I’m no good at either so I gave it up. I hold two degrees, a BA in English and Communications from the University of Toledo, and an MLIS from Clark Atlanta University. For over 19 years, I was an archivist, associate curator, and finally assistant curator at the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture, New York Public Library.What a privilege it was to work with the best archivists, curators, staff, pages, etc., ever. The Schomburg Center taught me virtually everything I needed to know about Black archives, their importance, context, and politics here and globally. I left the Schomburg in 2017 to learn how to make films and be an independent archivist. At the end of 2017, Miranda Mims approached me to see if I wanted to collaborate with her on a community project, and that’s how the Nomadic Archivists Project was born. Since then, we’ve developed a Black podcast archive, co-host In the Telling, a Black family podcast, and awarded our first scholarship to a student studying archives. I love coalition building with Black and Brown communities about the different ways we archivists and other memory workers can help them preserve our stories.SDB: Tell us something that most people don't know about your work but that is crucial to do the work. SGF: Archives really chose me, not the other way around. And I think those who feel compelled to do this kind [of] work would agree with me. It’s infectious because it feeds you in ways that can surprise you. It’s a lens from which you can better understand not just history, but people, culture and, for me, it transcends the boundaries of physical representations of memory. Processing a collection is a form of storytelling in and of itself, providing access for researchers and simultaneously planting seeds for stories wanting to be born. It’s a generative practice, very fluid and inspiring and inherently political. Whose stories, and where are they archived? What’s crucial to doing archival work is knowing that you’re assisting in not just putting down the history, but you are a conduit for a certain kind of energy transfer. Archivists can be great storytellers and fine ambassadors for the field itself because [they are] able to make archives accessible and relatable. By contrast, archivists can also either help or hurt a cause based on what they collect and how they present collections. I think I was born to be an archivist. As a kid, I collected and arranged my comics. Created lists of those comics. In my teens I began to write stories and journal. [I] took photographs of my neighborhood and developed an interest in genealogy. In 1989, I interviewed my mother for a book project on Black women in Toledo (never finished it, but just had the cassette tapes digitized). A decade later, I was at the Schomburg being taught to be responsible for the stories of our communities, diasporically, which was like being in college for nearly two decades. It’s a responsibility that one never quite learns completely. I see it more as a practice. The African diaspora was revealed to me in a way that I couldn’t have learned any other way, and not just through cultural evidence filling the Schomburg’s shelves, but through the people who worked there, firsthand. There was nothing like being with a group of culture keepers, immigrants, activists, thinkers, etc., who did great work and often had outside interests in performing music, building community organizations, being active in social and political demonstrations, etc. This was the world in which I was nurtured and offered a space to make a contribution, specifically in the case of and for the Black LGBTQ community. <img width="611" height="760" width_o="611" height_o="760" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/774fa5358e67e5e9f9c6e004cb9e4dc9f14a5287b147b7c8d411b9fa82c5cc54/Douglas_Schomburg.jpg" data-mid="85117345" border="0" alt="Image: A black-and-white photo of artist Aaron Douglas (left) and Arthur A. Schomburg standing in front of Douglas's painting &quot;Aspects of Negro Life: Song of the Towers,&quot; as Douglas points to a painted image of a silhouetted person holding a saxophone, 1934. Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture, Photographs and Prints Division, The New York Public Library. Photographer: Unknown." data-caption="Image: A black-and-white photo of artist Aaron Douglas (left) and Arthur A. Schomburg standing in front of Douglas's painting &quot;Aspects of Negro Life: Song of the Towers,&quot; as Douglas points to a painted image of a silhouetted person holding a saxophone, 1934. Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture, Photographs and Prints Division, The New York Public Library. Photographer: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/611/i/774fa5358e67e5e9f9c6e004cb9e4dc9f14a5287b147b7c8d411b9fa82c5cc54/Douglas_Schomburg.jpg" /> <img width="759" height="617" width_o="759" height_o="617" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/402a6aeee6314c2d750539775c954734acd350dc109239f55cec02c4ca5f73b1/Hansberry_Simone_Schomburg.jpg" data-mid="85117409" border="0" alt="Image: A black-and-white photo of Lorraine Hansberry and Nina Simone singing in a small group of people all holding hands and singing along, 1963. Music Division, Box 50, Folder 20, The New York Public Library. Photographer: Unknown." data-caption="Image: A black-and-white photo of Lorraine Hansberry and Nina Simone singing in a small group of people all holding hands and singing along, 1963. Music Division, Box 50, Folder 20, The New York Public Library. Photographer: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/759/i/402a6aeee6314c2d750539775c954734acd350dc109239f55cec02c4ca5f73b1/Hansberry_Simone_Schomburg.jpg" /> SDB: In your work at the Schomburg as a curator, how did you interact with the concept of documenting the loss and/or capture of Black cultural heritage collections, sites, memory, etc.? How much of it was about either preventative capture or post-memorial about loss? SGF: Just a few years shy of a century, the Schomburg built a solid reputation as a repository for Black memory. Led by Black Puerto Rican bibliophile and scholar Arthur Schomburg, curators and directors including Lawrence Reddick, Jean Blackwell Hutson, Howard Dodson, Diana Lachatanere, Mary Yearwood, James Briggs Murray, Genette McLaurin, Victor Smythe, and Tammi Lawson, as well as countless librarians, archivists, and support staff, the Center could assume a privileged position as a leader in the world’s community dedicated to saving Black global culture. Seriously considering these questions, I realize just how embedded in Schomburg’s ethos were these daily concerns that shaped collection development, how collections were processed, what kinds of grants we received, coalition work to help preserve the African Burial Ground, analog and digital exhibitions and collection presentations, and hundreds of free public programs over the years that disrupted false narratives about Black life and accomplishment and fed new perspectives. Celebrating Black history and culture isn’t simply to counter racism, it was/is to freedom fight as an imperative. A good example of preemptive capture (and to be honest, I need and want a better term that feels less constrictive and violent than capture2), is a project I founded/directed called the In the Life Archive (ITLA), formerly known as the Black Gay &amp; Lesbian Archive. It’s important to note several things about the project. First and foremost, the ITLA was built by the Black LGBTQ community. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. From 1999 to the present, Black queer folks have donated their papers, supported programming, and given money to see this project happen. Although I reached out to individuals I thought might be interested in the project, I was also contacted by people interested in donating their collections. Brad Johnson, a Black gay Philadelphia poet active in the 1980s and 1990s reached out to me through his social worker. In 2012, he was on his deathbed and was certain that neither his family nor his alma mater Yale would be interested in his papers. Of course, I was interested and shortly after we packed up the collection, Brad had passed. I bring up Brad as an example of how the culture has been slowly changing. Now, a Black LGBTQ person might consider that hers/his/their archive might be historically significant. And that there are places to contact that might be interested in archiving their legacies. Right now, I see that collecting Black LGBTQ history and culture has come to the attention of the National Museum of African American History and Culture (NMAAHC), historians, and various scholars. This is wonderful and necessary and long overdue. On the one hand, Black culture has always been popular, [but] mainstream institutions weren’t collecting Black archives with the exception of a few institutions like the Moorland-Spingarn Center, Schomburg Center, Auburn Avenue Research Library on African American Culture and History, and a few others. Black archives now have more currency. Collections are being sought after by the Ivys and public institutions. Part of it is scholarly interest has increased due to academia’s interest in historical events that happened 40-50 years ago. And [also due to] the professors who taught Audre Lorde, Barbara Smith, Essex Hemphill, Joseph Beam, and others for decades. Black LGBTQ culture and history often intersects with women’s history, Black Power and Black Arts history, diasporic histories, and HIV/AIDS culture and history, as well as literature, film, and music. Black LGBTQ has a lot to tell us about cultural production, the church, the family, what HIV/AIDS activism meant during a pandemic, and human rights struggles. I estimate we’ve lost more collections than we have been able to archive due to the ravages of HIV/AIDS, as well as the lack of connections with archives and libraries. I’m still working out the numbers. But because there are more archives doing this work, the awareness about Black LGBTQ archives is becoming more common. For example, NMAAHC has acquired photographs from the late Ron Simmons, a pioneering activist and figure in Black LGBTQ history. Although there is a paper collection of Ron’s at the Schomburg, his audio/visual collection might have been lost had the museum not contacted him. Frankly, Ron was a Washington D.C. legend. I’m pleased that NMAAHC knew this and was proactive in collecting Ron’s work. <img width="800" height="523" width_o="800" height_o="523" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/88d831c84df5e194f17d38a4aeb99dcf724f75a928d0a598b687773821bedd6e/NMAAHC-2018_103_2_001.jpg" data-mid="85117402" border="0" alt="Image: A black-and-white advertisement signed by Essex Hemphill and Wayson Jones for their poetry and music collaboration titled &quot;Earth Life&quot; at the d.c. space music venue in downtown Washington, DC, 1985. Advertisement is dominated by a portrait of Hemphill and Jones standing in front of a brick wall. Hemphill, left, smokes a cigarette. At right, Jones stands in a light button-down shirt. Collection of the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture, Gift of Ron Simmons. Photographer: Daniel Cima." data-caption="Image: A black-and-white advertisement signed by Essex Hemphill and Wayson Jones for their poetry and music collaboration titled &quot;Earth Life&quot; at the d.c. space music venue in downtown Washington, DC, 1985. Advertisement is dominated by a portrait of Hemphill and Jones standing in front of a brick wall. Hemphill, left, smokes a cigarette. At right, Jones stands in a light button-down shirt. Collection of the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture, Gift of Ron Simmons. Photographer: Daniel Cima." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/800/i/88d831c84df5e194f17d38a4aeb99dcf724f75a928d0a598b687773821bedd6e/NMAAHC-2018_103_2_001.jpg" /> SDB: Throughout your career, you've worked to acquire the materials of some notable and lesser-known Black individuals, families, and organizations. Within the past decade, there's been an uptick in the number of Black collections that are either being shopped around, purchased, or auctioned. What are your thoughts on the commodification of Black cultural heritage collections? Do you consider this practice harmful? If so, why? SGF: The commodification of Black archival collections is a result of the predatory capitalism we practice today in the U.S. It has a profound, disruptive effect on collecting practices. Larger institutions with larger budgets want to matter in this current context and frankly are taking advantage of it. Why? Because predatory capitalism respects no one, and certainly not its cultural institutions as instruments of a free culture. They are or become spoils of the empire. And as we non-Black people continue to rage against [it] in the streets, academia, in our communities, and other cultural expressions, we know that it is the storyteller that matters and who controls the story. Black culture sells. Institutions with smaller budgets cannot compete in the marketplace, absolutely. What’s fucked up about that the collection in question might be better cared for at a smaller institution. At one point in history, collections were donated to archives. I still think that’s true, in a way. I want it to be clear that I’m completely in favor of Black people being paid for their collections, but that’s also how brand-name collections end up in college and universities as the only one of its kind culturally or racially. In many ways, it’s out of context. Let me explain what I mean by that. Cultural institutions that have one or two Black, queer, or women’s collections can’t adequately reveal the nuances or particularities of said individual, organization, or institution. Those collections end up becoming unique or special, and they are, but in an institution filled with similar collections and other kinds of contextual materials, they become more than special; they become legible in profound ways. James Baldwin, Lorraine Hansberry, Julian Mayfield, Alice Childress, Ossie Davis, and Ruby Dee, among others, were all part of the Black Left in the 1950s and 1960s and are at the Schomburg Center. Reading their scripts, letters, and considering [how] their creative lives and activist works resonate with each other, offer powerful contexts that make less sense in larger, white institutions where they may have one or two Black collections. SDB: In thinking about your experience as a curator, archivist, and documentarian, what do you consider to be the biggest threats to keeping and sustaining Black cultural heritage institutions? SGF: No money, mercurial attitudes of funding institutions, and lack of imagination. Right now, Black and other archives that weren’t initially seen by white mainstream institutions as worthy of collection are currently in vogue. Maybe tomorrow they won’t be. Obviously, it wouldn’t be because of their inherent value, research, or otherwise. For me, it comes down to what the best of what Black institutions can do, which is present the counter narrative and maintain their stances because we know that no matter the political or social moment, our stories matter and need to be preserved, regardless. While the US is still treating Black people as second-class citizens, if that, there’s no debate among Black people that we matter. But that’s just us and others who support this kind of work. One old narrative currently in circulation is why have these Black institutions? They’re separatist and if we’re trying to solve racism, why do we need them, which is obvious hogwash. Cultural institutions, of all kinds, need room to breathe. This is the history of the US we are only now reckoning with. No one should question their existence. American amnesia is so strong, so insidious that one can’t quite fathom the damage it's done to the development of this country. <img width="1500" height="992" width_o="1500" height_o="992" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/7162eecf0ff430f18d439c46b2b4d9e3ad05e3c5347bfbb1f43072c523b9dc0c/City_of_Toledo-_Ohio_aerial_map-_1870.jpg" data-mid="85117800" border="0" alt="Image: A brown and blue postcard of the City of Toledo, Ohio, that includes an aerial map and a logo for the city, c. 1870. Local History and Genealogy, Toledo Lucas County Public Library. Artist: Albert Ruger." data-caption="Image: A brown and blue postcard of the City of Toledo, Ohio, that includes an aerial map and a logo for the city, c. 1870. Local History and Genealogy, Toledo Lucas County Public Library. Artist: Albert Ruger." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/7162eecf0ff430f18d439c46b2b4d9e3ad05e3c5347bfbb1f43072c523b9dc0c/City_of_Toledo-_Ohio_aerial_map-_1870.jpg" /> <img width="594" height="760" width_o="594" height_o="760" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/e1bb48cfe464498b27a8312dda05bd6f8bcb1bd76f61a9ad1822560cd1087f3d/Childress_Schomburg.jpg" data-mid="85117753" border="0" alt="Image: A black-and-white photo portrait of novelist, playwright, and actress Alice Childress sitting with her arms crossed and one hand cradling her face. She wears a dark outfit with light colored beaded necklace, no date. Alice Childress portrait collection, Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture, Photographs and Prints Division, The New York Public Library. Photographer: Unknown." data-caption="Image: A black-and-white photo portrait of novelist, playwright, and actress Alice Childress sitting with her arms crossed and one hand cradling her face. She wears a dark outfit with light colored beaded necklace, no date. Alice Childress portrait collection, Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture, Photographs and Prints Division, The New York Public Library. Photographer: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/594/i/e1bb48cfe464498b27a8312dda05bd6f8bcb1bd76f61a9ad1822560cd1087f3d/Childress_Schomburg.jpg" /> <img width="760" height="543" width_o="760" height_o="543" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/5309476c822b5ab98e891b42a0d86ea7865853a2024f29de2e35b1d9aeafc93d/LReddick_Schomburg.jpg" data-mid="85117910" border="0" alt="Image: Dr. Lawrence Dunbar Reddick, second curator of the the Schomburg Collection of Negro History and Literature from 1939 to 1948, sits with a colleague at a desk in an office, looking over papers and surrounded by books, bookshelves, and cabinets, date unknown. New York Public Library Archives, The New York Public Library. Photographer: Unknown." data-caption="Image: Dr. Lawrence Dunbar Reddick, second curator of the the Schomburg Collection of Negro History and Literature from 1939 to 1948, sits with a colleague at a desk in an office, looking over papers and surrounded by books, bookshelves, and cabinets, date unknown. New York Public Library Archives, The New York Public Library. Photographer: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/760/i/5309476c822b5ab98e891b42a0d86ea7865853a2024f29de2e35b1d9aeafc93d/LReddick_Schomburg.jpg" /> SDB: As archivists, we work to preserve the narratives, legacies, and histories of individuals and communities, but rarely do we give ourselves the same consideration. Have you given any thought about your own archive? What do you hope archivists and researchers will learn about you? Name one item that you will include and why? SGF: Yes, I’ve thought about my own archive, actively so. If you’ve ever worked in an archive, you know about the amazing stories that archivists tell about this person or that collection, much of which never appears in finding aids, bio sketches, or elsewhere. Rescue stories, family stories, surprises in the archive stories, and more. These stories impacted me greatly as an archivist. They offered me something beyond technical expertise. They shaped my vision about the necessity of preserving cultural heritage. Archivists are often completely misunderstood as culture keepers. Most people don’t even know what an archivist does. I’m trying to encourage other Black archivists to at least [create] oral histories of their lives and to really focus on their careers. The amazing stories of Black archivists shouldn’t die when they die; they have and continue to shape my work as a memory worker. Much of what we consider behind the counter talk (conversations often governed by privacy) could in part be shared with the community to pull back the veil partially on the business of archives and the stories about how collections get to institutions—or not. I’m also organizing my own personal records, analog and digital. I’ve been fortunate to have a career as a writer and publisher and so part of that constitutes my archive, as well as personal records such as correspondence, photographs, family records, etc. I wholeheartedly feel that organizing one’s archive is a unique and generative process. I think you deserve the benefit of your own experience, repeatedly, throughout your life. You are the descendant and ancestor. Your story matters in profoundly moving ways because it is our collective story. The one item I would include is a draft of a recipe book my dad gave me years ago. The way I’ve expressed my love in the past was to build an art project with a person I love. My dad’s handwriting alone delights me. His recipes are okay, not remarkable, but they’re my dad’s recipes, and so they matter to me and my family. ︎ <img width="1500" height="1162" width_o="1500" height_o="1162" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/470384fe2487433c8bbd691e128b708d37f5d18244787b5963b29f0c04e430f8/CAUSLISBrochure_001.jpg" data-mid="85215399" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/470384fe2487433c8bbd691e128b708d37f5d18244787b5963b29f0c04e430f8/CAUSLISBrochure_001.jpg" /> <img width="1500" height="1170" width_o="1500" height_o="1170" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/73fb80364d9e56c3c94c3af33ec8189180f4ecefd7a6b7cbdd812e3fa4f4be6b/CAUSLISBrochure_002.jpg" data-mid="85215400" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/73fb80364d9e56c3c94c3af33ec8189180f4ecefd7a6b7cbdd812e3fa4f4be6b/CAUSLISBrochure_002.jpg" /> <img width="1500" height="1170" width_o="1500" height_o="1170" 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data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/da14800c45399c510c109ffb7b0aee3f2569622061531a195ee69b0bf9530a64/CAUSLISBrochure_008.jpg" data-mid="85215473" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/800/i/da14800c45399c510c109ffb7b0aee3f2569622061531a195ee69b0bf9530a64/CAUSLISBrochure_008.jpg" /> <img width="1500" height="1170" width_o="1500" height_o="1170" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/42dabb6413c42bc10a2f4de3176d436230513d1bf658e1998509e9f88e141824/CAUSLISBrochure_009.jpg" data-mid="85215504" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/42dabb6413c42bc10a2f4de3176d436230513d1bf658e1998509e9f88e141824/CAUSLISBrochure_009.jpg" /> <img width="1500" height="1170" width_o="1500" height_o="1170" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/83332debd7dfc98d1649bc6029431625b4e269976bec2bfa28b2b6cf146343ba/CAUSLISBrochure_010.jpg" data-mid="85215506" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/83332debd7dfc98d1649bc6029431625b4e269976bec2bfa28b2b6cf146343ba/CAUSLISBrochure_010.jpg" /> <img width="1500" height="1170" width_o="1500" height_o="1170" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/61661d14ab8c015d80eb5449084ff4f216aab77b1521afc195d0d5f10a5c21de/CAUSLISBrochure_011.jpg" data-mid="85215571" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/61661d14ab8c015d80eb5449084ff4f216aab77b1521afc195d0d5f10a5c21de/CAUSLISBrochure_011.jpg" /> <img width="1500" height="1170" width_o="1500" height_o="1170" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/3072e358b0e7c225b3f69e3220ccb367396b926b94c3cea4b8a35fc0bcbb222b/CAUSLISBrochure_012.jpg" data-mid="85215572" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/3072e358b0e7c225b3f69e3220ccb367396b926b94c3cea4b8a35fc0bcbb222b/CAUSLISBrochure_012.jpg" /> <img width="1500" height="1170" width_o="1500" height_o="1170" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/414fa349512e2b27acfbbdda2fc47dcd359b3503d8ea2f3301d6b446d0c08250/CAUSLISBrochure_013.jpg" data-mid="85216195" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/414fa349512e2b27acfbbdda2fc47dcd359b3503d8ea2f3301d6b446d0c08250/CAUSLISBrochure_013.jpg" /> <img width="1500" height="1170" width_o="1500" height_o="1170" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/e4af058e85b9be499f029099f3d8d583d239149750843a3cd458060658cd69a9/CAUSLISBrochure_014.jpg" data-mid="85216196" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/e4af058e85b9be499f029099f3d8d583d239149750843a3cd458060658cd69a9/CAUSLISBrochure_014.jpg" /> <img width="1500" height="1170" width_o="1500" height_o="1170" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/1c682c539426820302e3576a9d24a6f8ffcaec73e6196e61f2a1885a27ad23ca/CAUSLISBrochure_015.jpg" data-mid="85216282" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/1c682c539426820302e3576a9d24a6f8ffcaec73e6196e61f2a1885a27ad23ca/CAUSLISBrochure_015.jpg" /> <img width="1500" height="1170" width_o="1500" height_o="1170" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/233e247b51d14ad945c8e00f678d222f03bd6e3cf26636f3229e0e7fa77f25f2/CAUSLISBrochure_016.jpg" data-mid="85216283" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/233e247b51d14ad945c8e00f678d222f03bd6e3cf26636f3229e0e7fa77f25f2/CAUSLISBrochure_016.jpg" /> <img width="1500" height="1170" width_o="1500" height_o="1170" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/c4ddee59de36150ae721e7f3f609cb10020b27ea8fdde34d1d81bd123a0205aa/CAUSLISBrochure_017.jpg" data-mid="85216292" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/c4ddee59de36150ae721e7f3f609cb10020b27ea8fdde34d1d81bd123a0205aa/CAUSLISBrochure_017.jpg" /> <img width="1500" height="1170" width_o="1500" height_o="1170" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/a333c8660a4b1a819ef2ffcd572c20a852e7d1528f3409282ff044b75871c414/CAUSLISBrochure_018.jpg" data-mid="85216293" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/a333c8660a4b1a819ef2ffcd572c20a852e7d1528f3409282ff044b75871c414/CAUSLISBrochure_018.jpg" /> <img width="1500" height="1160" width_o="1500" height_o="1160" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/0e94b948f413ea359aed02bdc8a703d56a31c82ca48479782c3ec56ceffdb4a9/CAUSLISBrochure_019.jpg" data-mid="85216294" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/0e94b948f413ea359aed02bdc8a703d56a31c82ca48479782c3ec56ceffdb4a9/CAUSLISBrochure_019.jpg" /> Images: Scans of Clark Atlanta School of Library and Information Science (SLIS) Brochure, circa 1995. GLAM Center for Collaborative Teaching and Learning, Atlanta University Center Robert W. Woodruff Library. 1&nbsp;Lenk’s Hill was mainly a Germanic neighborhood, and as it became more heavily populated with those who identified themselves as of Polish extraction, it became known as “Kuschwantz,” which means cow’s tail, because it generally followed the path of a railroad line. 2&nbsp;“take into one's possession or control by force.” the act of recording in a permanent file. Merriam Webster. Steven D. Booth (he/him) is an archivist, researcher, and co-founder of The Blackivists Collective. He has been with the National Archives and Records Administration since 2009 and currently manages the audiovisual collection for the Barack Obama Presidential Library. He is actively involved in the Society of American Archivists (SAA) and recently served on the governing board of the organization.&nbsp; https://losscaptureproject.cargo.site/Love-Through-Loss-Activists-Remember-Each-Life-Taken-in-Violence Fri, 09 Oct 2020 14:44:35 +0000 Loss/Capture https://losscaptureproject.cargo.site/Love-Through-Loss-Activists-Remember-Each-Life-Taken-in-Violence <img width="1500" height="1000" width_o="1500" height_o="1000" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/7102549c07b7b7f840ba6e0042184d5125c42a897d816ef1bca6de7141010f6a/6-NT-AE-Pass-1.jpg" data-mid="85119242" border="0" alt="Illustration by Kiki Lechuga-Dupont." data-caption="Illustration by Kiki Lechuga-Dupont." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/7102549c07b7b7f840ba6e0042184d5125c42a897d816ef1bca6de7141010f6a/6-NT-AE-Pass-1.jpg" /> Love Through Loss: Activists Remember Each Life Taken in ViolenceInterviews by Erin Glasco I was asked to contribute a piece for this series that focused on my organizing experience with #NoCopAcademy (a youth-led grassroots campaign to stop the building of a $95 million police and fire training academy in Chicago) and the ways in which young organizers and activists capture the loss of Black life in their work, especially via corner memorials and other remembrances of Black lives lost. I thought it appropriate, rather than give my perspective, that I ask two of the young folks who were involved in #NoCop and who have both spent time organizing for Black liberation to illuminate theirs instead. In this piece, I speak with Nita Tennyson (she/her) and Asha Edwards (she/her), who are both Black, queer, Chicago-based organizers who I had the pleasure to meet and work with during the #NoCop campaign. We speak on contending with the loss of Black lives and livelihoods, in general and during the coronavirus. We also discuss the ways, both personal and political, that they both have memorialized Black folks who have been lost or suffered grievous losses, be it at the hands of the state or through intercommunity violence. These interviews have been edited for clarity and length. Interview with Nita Tennyson <img width="1500" height="995" width_o="1500" height_o="995" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/26f8d2019a74dd52fa111889eeebdbc5a6352e1fdf91f75920bdace1a5fba1a5/st10104151_0001.jpg" data-mid="85218258" border="0" alt="Image: Alberta Sunders and Hattie Williams speaking and playing guitar in front of a crowd at a memorial service in a field near South Langley Avenue, Chicago, IL, September 22, 1963. Saunders and Williams are standing to the left of the image, and people are leaning against cars, standing on the sidewalk, and standing at the edge of the field listening to the performance. Chicago Sun-Times collection, Chicago History Museum. Photographer: Unknown." data-caption="Image: Alberta Sunders and Hattie Williams speaking and playing guitar in front of a crowd at a memorial service in a field near South Langley Avenue, Chicago, IL, September 22, 1963. Saunders and Williams are standing to the left of the image, and people are leaning against cars, standing on the sidewalk, and standing at the edge of the field listening to the performance. Chicago Sun-Times collection, Chicago History Museum. Photographer: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/26f8d2019a74dd52fa111889eeebdbc5a6352e1fdf91f75920bdace1a5fba1a5/st10104151_0001.jpg" /> Nita Tennyson is a former member of Assata’s Daughters, and was a youth organizer in the #NoCopAcademy campaign. Nita and I discussed corner memorials and remembrances of Black people who have lost their lives, as well the mutual aid she’s been able to offer through her organization, The Love Train. Nita also coordinated The Love Memorial—a march, candlelight vigil and lantern release held to honor all of the Black and Brown youth lost to violence this year. Erin Glasco: Are you aware of any corner memorials or community remembrances for people who have been lost to state violence or people who have been, unfortunately, victims of intercommunity violence? Nita Tennyson: I see memorials when I drive around. I know there’s one on 83rd [Street]. I know there’s one on 109th [Street]. Memorials are really not touched by people, so usually if they're there, they stay for a while until somebody comes and picks it up. And when people pass away, their family and the people who love them make their memorials, like that's how it is. I think that in Chicago, when people pass away, it's very important that they are remembered. So that's why people do candlelights and balloon releases and stuff like that. EG: What do you think is the importance of corner memorials in Black communities? NT: I think they are really important in Black communities because our youth, and people in general, who pass away from gun violence are not taken in a natural way, they are taken at the hands of something or someone else. I also know a girl who passed away this year, she got hit by a car. She didn't get shot. It’s important for people to be remembered, because when somebody passes away, it brings a lot of pain and it brings a lot of hurt. And even though people be like, “Pray for the family,” a lot of people create relationships with their friends, so their friends become family, too. And I think a lot of Chicago is hurt people that hurt people. But really, these memorials help hurt people grieve, they help them remember that person because sometimes it's a memorial where the person was killed or where their house is. When it’s where they were killed, I feel like people do those types of memorials because they want to remember where their soul was. Because, you know, when someone passes away, their soul leaves their body at that time. So they want to remember them right there. They want to let go of balloons because they feel like that’s the last place they are. But some people do it at home because that's where they feel&nbsp; their spirit goes to, or their soul does. When I do balloon releases, sometimes I write a message on the balloon because, in theory, the balloon floats up, so why wouldn't it float to heaven? EG: So, how do you remember folks you've lost personally? I know from following you on Twitter that you've suffered, unfortunately, a lot of loss. I’ve seen you mention on Twitter that the anniversary of the death of Michael Serrano, who was also a member of Assata’s Daughters and a organizer with #NoCop. Can you share the ways that you try to memorialize people that you’ve lost? NT: When someone passes away, I usually try to make sure that I make it to the candlelight. When I go to candlelights, I bring balloons. I also bring candles and stuff and then for the funeral I have a friend who has a button maker and I like to make buttons because they are really important to people––you can always carry somebody with you wherever you go when you have a button. At the candlelights, everybody meets up and we let whoever wants to speak speak. Usually the mom speaks, usually somebody close to them speaks and then we let balloons go. I know a lot of people who have passed away that have stand-up boards for them, so you can take pictures with them on the board. For sure, I always get t-shirts with their faces or names on them because I like to wear them around when I go to the funeral, but that’s usually what we do. So, for the Love Memorial, this is something that is really different to me because it's personal, but it's also because this year I have also lost, I think, I have lost a friend every month this year— EG: Oh my God. NT: —except for August. Even in August, I knew somebody who passed away, we just weren’t close. It's really personal to me because since I've been doing the Love Train, I've been doing love all around Chicago, so it's important to me that Chicago knows that just because I'm giving out love doesn’t mean I don't feel y’alls pain, too. So, we can hurt together and grow together because I feel like once we love each other, we can heal, and once we heal each other, it can change. That’s my theory. EG: I'm so sorry to hear that you’ve lost so many people this year. This year has been full of loss, so I'm so sorry, Nita. But what you're doing sounds amazing. Will you talk to me more about the Love Train? How did you come up with the idea? Who is involved? I want to know as much as you want to tell me about it. NT: The first day of the looting was May 31st. The second day, when it was really bad, that was the big day, that was June 1st. People usually get their LINK cards or their WIC and other benefits on the first of the month. And so when the looting happened it shut down basically all the resources in the community because either the stores were boarding up or getting stole from. Well, let me not say, “stole from”––people were getting what they needed. I saw on Facebook that people were making statuses like, “Y’all stole from WIC. My kids need milk.” It was a controversy on Facebook because people were saying things like, “Y’all should have milk left over for your kids in case of an emergency, so it's not anybody's fault.”&nbsp; But at the same time, in my mind, it's like: It's the first of the month. Most of their kids should be running out of milk because they're about to get more milk. And so my friend has three kids and the daycare centers were closed. So I was watching her kids because everything was going crazy. It just so happened that I was buying a lot of stuff to have in the house for the kids and I ended up with extra supplies. I called my boyfriend's son’s mother and asked, “Do you want to go outside with me and pass out this extra stuff I have?” And it turned out they had some extra stuff, too, and we had six boxes of fruit and stuff from a food pantry. So, we washed off all the food and wrapped it up. And we went out on the corner with a basket of fruit and other foods, and a suitcase for diapers, wipes and formula. And people seen us and was like, “What are y’all doing?” We were like, “We're passing out free stuff. People are saying that because of the looting, there was no stuff that they could get. So, we want to make sure that everybody can get something, at least if they need it.” And so we went on live on Facebook, and it’s because so many people saw it and were sharing it that people were either coming to us to get stuff or coming to us to drop off extra stuff they had. We stood out there until curfew, and we left the basket with a lot of different stuff in it, and when we came back the next morning, everything was gone. <img width="1500" height="1036" width_o="1500" height_o="1036" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/5bdf70bb3a62ec6ec4b50ea21cb32d426a7f66d79ddd9717f1198ea6a22b0f8d/i040026_pm.jpg" data-mid="85218246" border="0" alt="Image: A color photo with views of businesses during the West Side riots after the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr., Chicago, IL, April 1968. Photographed in the vicinity of Marillac House, a community center at 2822 West Jackson Boulevard. West Side Riots Chicago Photograph Collection [ICHi-040026], Chicago History Museum. Photographer: Sister Julia of Marillac House." data-caption="Image: A color photo with views of businesses during the West Side riots after the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr., Chicago, IL, April 1968. Photographed in the vicinity of Marillac House, a community center at 2822 West Jackson Boulevard. West Side Riots Chicago Photograph Collection [ICHi-040026], Chicago History Museum. Photographer: Sister Julia of Marillac House." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/5bdf70bb3a62ec6ec4b50ea21cb32d426a7f66d79ddd9717f1198ea6a22b0f8d/i040026_pm.jpg" /> EG: Wow. So how often have you done the Love Train? NT: In total, this whole summer, I believe I went out thirty-eight times. EG: Oh, my goodness. Thirty-eight times is a lot!&nbsp; How often were you going out? NT: I might have gone out more than that, actually. I do know I went to, at least, twenty-five different communities because for the first four weeks, I was going out four times a week. And then the next two and a half weeks, I was going out three times a week. Now, I go out two times a week. Or sometimes once because I try to spread it out every time I go. I've been to Englewood, Auburn Gresham, Chatham, Austin, West Garfield Park, Washington Park, Near West Side, and South Shore. I’ve been everywhere. EG: Can you tell me about the Love Memorial?NT: It started because my best friend's memorial day came up. She passed away two years ago, and so I did a day for her: it was Jessie Day. So then I was like, “Hmm, I should start doing this for other people.” So, now I dedicate the Love Train to people as we go out, and so the last stop we went to was for a friend of mine, really a brother, Akil. His son passed away before his first birthday this year. This is directly tied into #DefundCPD because he was denied health insurance and he had a heart condition. He survived three heart surgeries, beat COVID-19, but&nbsp; passed away from a heart attack. They made a GoFundMe so he could get the surgery he actually needed, but he passed away before anybody could even fill that up. People shouldn't have to fight so hard for medical insurance. Like, he was born here. Why doesn't he already have it? You know? So, with the Love Train, we go out and pass out stuff. Now, the Love Memorial is dedicated to Michael (Serrano) because he was killed in intercommunity violence last year. September 13th. It’s going to be a whole year he’s been gone, a whole year, and also his first birthday without him, too. So I wanted to do something for him. At first I was just going to pass stuff out in his name. But I feel like there's been a lot of loss this year for everybody. We lost Kobe, we lost Black Panther, we lost so many people, and then COVID. So many people from my school have passed away from COVID. I've been to funerals this year for people I never thought in a million years I would have to be at the funeral for--especially not this year, and especially not from COVID, it's just wild. So, I feel like the city is going through so much pain right now. And the memorial to remember all the Black and Brown youth who were lost this year will be something that will help people remember their people. We are going to do a candle lighting; I'm gonna say their names. It’s going to be a very sentimental event. At the end, I'm going to let people speak, and then we're going to let the lanterns go. I have been doing research, trying to make sure I'm all-inclusive, so I've been inviting families and asking permission to honor their children. <img width="1500" height="1199" width_o="1500" height_o="1199" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/41b6e56657dae85a10f66cab6df8176c104ec4b54673f2f1aee20929a38a561d/theojays_pressphoto.jpg" data-mid="85121605" border="0" alt="Image: A Publicity flyer of The O'Jays, performers of the 1972 hit single &quot;Love Train,&quot; written by Kenny Gamble and Leon Huff, date unknown. The flyer shows three portraits of each singer, performing on stage. Under the photos is an O&rsquo;Jays logo, as well as logos for BK Management, Regency Artists LTD, Rogers &amp; Cowan Inc., Epic Records, and Philadelphia International Records. Oklahoma Publishing Company Photography collection, Oklahoma Historical Society. Photographer: Unknown." data-caption="Image: A Publicity flyer of The O'Jays, performers of the 1972 hit single &quot;Love Train,&quot; written by Kenny Gamble and Leon Huff, date unknown. The flyer shows three portraits of each singer, performing on stage. Under the photos is an O’Jays logo, as well as logos for BK Management, Regency Artists LTD, Rogers &amp; Cowan Inc., Epic Records, and Philadelphia International Records. Oklahoma Publishing Company Photography collection, Oklahoma Historical Society. Photographer: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/41b6e56657dae85a10f66cab6df8176c104ec4b54673f2f1aee20929a38a561d/theojays_pressphoto.jpg" /> EG: When do you plan on holding the Love Memorial? NT: 9/11, because I feel that that’s a date we should reclaim. The state of emergency is our youth are dying off and they should not be because we should have resources that prevent these things from happening. We should have resources to heal those people that are hurt, we should have mental health facilities, we should have trauma counseling, we should have places for kids to do art when they're going through stuff. We should have all those things, and I feel like everything is connected, so that's why I'm doing it. EG: That’s amazing, Nita. I’m so impressed with the thought you’ve put into honoring folks that we’ve lost too soon. And I really appreciate all that you and the folks that you're working with are doing to make this a reality. Is there anything else that you just want folks to know in general about the Love Train or the Love Memorial, or anything else that we talked about today? NT: I just want folks to realize that even though everything looks really hard right now, we are gonna make it. We just got to come together, which we are doing because it's been hella mutual aid everywhere. It's been so beautiful. It's been youth organizers taking over everything this summer. So I just want people to realize there's a lot of pain, and it's a lot of loss, but we are going to get through. ︎ <img width="1500" height="1039" width_o="1500" height_o="1039" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/75dc06bf0d00779c67ed77510bb253e132bd31c8d50955ec09354d80a421c084/i036903_pm.jpg" data-mid="85218245" border="0" alt="Image: A color photograph with a view of people marching in the Cicero March, a civil rights demonstration protesting racist housing policies, in Cicero, Illinois, 1966. The group is walking in a line, between weeds, grass, and flowers. Declan Haun collection of visual materials, Chicago History Museum. Photographer: Haun, Declan." data-caption="Image: A color photograph with a view of people marching in the Cicero March, a civil rights demonstration protesting racist housing policies, in Cicero, Illinois, 1966. The group is walking in a line, between weeds, grass, and flowers. Declan Haun collection of visual materials, Chicago History Museum. Photographer: Haun, Declan." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/75dc06bf0d00779c67ed77510bb253e132bd31c8d50955ec09354d80a421c084/i036903_pm.jpg" /> Interview with Asha Edwards <img width="1500" height="995" width_o="1500" height_o="995" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/a2c7f89ec07c2ee44d0601a3bb2d570ac90d6704ec087bd1ecf506f86a0e9938/st16002896_0007.jpg" data-mid="85221150" border="0" alt="Image: A black-and-white photo shows thousands of Black high school students stage walkout and march on South Martin Luther King Drive to gather at Oakland Square Theater at 3947 South Drexel Boulevard, Chicago, IL, October 14, 1968. Chicago Sun-Times collection, Chicago History Museum. Photographer: Unknown." data-caption="Image: A black-and-white photo shows thousands of Black high school students stage walkout and march on South Martin Luther King Drive to gather at Oakland Square Theater at 3947 South Drexel Boulevard, Chicago, IL, October 14, 1968. Chicago Sun-Times collection, Chicago History Museum. Photographer: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/a2c7f89ec07c2ee44d0601a3bb2d570ac90d6704ec087bd1ecf506f86a0e9938/st16002896_0007.jpg" /> Asha Edwards is a student at UIC who has been participating in organizing work since she was in high school. She is a member of Assata’s Daughters and Dissenters, and organized with the #NoCopAcademy campaign. We discuss how Asha got her start in organizing, her work this summer with #CopsOutCPS, and how the loss of Black people and futures are memorialized in her organizing work. Erin Glasco: Can you share how you got involved with the campaign? And how in general you got involved with organizing and activism? Asha Edwards: I was a sophomore in high school, I joined a grassroots organization called Assata’s Daughters, which teaches about the Black radical tradition, and Black feminist theory. We engaged in direct action, community building, and mutual aid, and how we get free for Black liberation. I had been in Assata’s for a little over a year, and then, I remember, the adult organizers invited some of our youth to a meeting about #NoCop, and we just kind of kept going. EG: Can you talk about how you saw your role in #NoCop? AE: Well, one thing I appreciated about the campaign is that the adult organizers and mentors wanted everyone's input to see what works for us and what roles we actually wanted to engage in. I was kind of a part of the art team and, like, it wasn't really a team, in a way, it was just a lot of voluntary work, but it was still organized. It was mutual in a sense. EG: Were you able to be involved with the different actions that went on throughout the campaign? I know there were a lot of them, but were there any that were particularly memorable for you? AE: Oh, yes. One of my favorite parts of the campaign was actually helping to organize the direct actions we did. There were actions that were my favorite, but there were also ones that shook me up in a way that I never felt before. EG: I would love to hear about those experiences, the ones you felt that shook you to your core. AE: Now, I’m thinking of even more events. [laughs] Because there were multiple events at the same location, City Hall, and they were all very distinct in a way. I really loved the one where we created the art installations of a graveyard. And I'd never seen that before in my life, because I didn't really know much about organizing or the history of how people changed the narrative. So I thought that was very powerful, just seeing how the city has continuously divested from essential community resources. However, the Chicago Police Department (CPD) budget has increased every year since 1968, I believe. So, to see the effects of that visually, like you guys are allowing this to die because you refuse to invest in what actually keeps us safe and what the community believes can keep us safe. And it was very powerful, especially when we laid on the ground as a die-in. That was my first die-in, and it felt very soulful, especially with the singing. I remember Page [May, founder of Assata’s Daughters] started a song, and it was very beautiful and sad, in a way. It was sad because there were police officers and white people just laughing at us. But, I still felt very empowered because at the same time there were, of course, white allies who kept a circle around us. There were my friends. There were other Assata’s peers, there were people blocking elevators, just holding it down. And in spite of it all, I felt very safe and supported and loved. EG: That is lovely. It's interesting that you bring up that action because that's one that was really memorable for me too. Seeing the tombstones in City Hall was just powerful. Can you tell me why the decision was made in particular to use tombstones in that action? <img width="995" height="1500" width_o="995" height_o="1500" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/74f345cced3b034a2699e3dd33caca3e8b1f183823984dcb8073773f7aba32c9/st16002900_0013.jpg" data-mid="85221151" border="0" alt="Image: A black-and-white photo of Black students staging a mock funeral for the Board of Education during high school boycott at the Civic Center Plaza, 50 West Washington Street, Chicago, IL, October 28, 1968. The image shows a group of people walking along the sidewalk, with the four people in the lead carrying a casket, with three police officers walking next to them. Chicago Sun-Times collection, Chicago History Museum. Photographer: Unknown." data-caption="Image: A black-and-white photo of Black students staging a mock funeral for the Board of Education during high school boycott at the Civic Center Plaza, 50 West Washington Street, Chicago, IL, October 28, 1968. The image shows a group of people walking along the sidewalk, with the four people in the lead carrying a casket, with three police officers walking next to them. Chicago Sun-Times collection, Chicago History Museum. Photographer: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/995/i/74f345cced3b034a2699e3dd33caca3e8b1f183823984dcb8073773f7aba32c9/st16002900_0013.jpg" /> AE: The tombstones signified how we let these essential community resources die, and thus, our people essentially die because they're not looked at as being worthy of having what we need. They discard Black life. They see us as not worthy, so they neglect our needs, essentially. And I felt like the tombstones really grasped that. I remember it showed a lot of Black youth who were killed by the police. The tombstones showed, I think, all of the 50 schools that closed down and how they were majority Black and Brown schools and the chaos that that caused. And we did the die-in to represent: “This is what you guys are actually doing. This does not help us and you are destroying Black lives for your own political gain or to keep the status quo that is inherently anti-Black and violent. That's not acceptable. You are accepting our deaths, in a way.” EG: Yeah, that was really powerful. Thank you so much for sharing that because it was a really powerful memorial, of a type, to the myriad losses we see in Black communities. The people that were lost, the community sustaining services that were lost. Thank you so much for that work. AE: It was all just a very lovely experience. And that's how I made a lot of relationships today in who I organize with and how our networks all intertwined with each other. Now, I see, we could do this together, and then we could join in solidarity with this event. EG: What have you been involved with in terms of organizing since #NoCop ended? AE: Campaign-wise, I’ve been involved with the #CopsOutCPS campaign. I've attended a lot of direct actions.EG: I know with the #CopsOutCPS campaign, there have been a lot of direct actions of various kinds, including some teach-ins held in the front of CPS School Board members’ homes to try to get CPS to end their relationship with CPD. Can you tell me more about the campaign? <img width="1686" height="986" width_o="1686" height_o="986" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/07aa7bba802e03c6226778fa62fdf2a7dfd1b9324fcd66b81ceeb4ac7aed6367/MarchforFreedom.jpg" data-mid="85120560" border="0" alt="Image: A white/yellowed card with blue text that calls for students to March for Freedom, c. 1961-1969. The card says &ldquo;HYDE PARK - KENWOOD - WOODLAWN; MARCH FOR FREEDOM; FRIDAY, JUNE 25, 11 A.M.; MEET AT YOUR SCHOOL.&rdquo; Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection, Chicago Public Library. " data-caption="Image: A white/yellowed card with blue text that calls for students to March for Freedom, c. 1961-1969. The card says “HYDE PARK - KENWOOD - WOODLAWN; MARCH FOR FREEDOM; FRIDAY, JUNE 25, 11 A.M.; MEET AT YOUR SCHOOL.” Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection, Chicago Public Library. " src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/07aa7bba802e03c6226778fa62fdf2a7dfd1b9324fcd66b81ceeb4ac7aed6367/MarchforFreedom.jpg" /> AE: I remember at first we called it, “Police Free Schools.” And I remember initially that Brighton Park Neighborhood Council (BPNC) were the ones, along with some other organizations, who really got this campaign off the ground years ago. Several youth members of BPNC, and other people at their schools, really helped to set the foundation for what led to this shift in the narrative change that cops do not belong in schools. During the uprisings, this message seriously got amplified because more people saw how violent the police are. There was a public shift in the narrative that cops no longer belong in our schools and that they don't keep us safe. And we kind of shifted the narrative of what can actually create a safe space in a school environment. And that's when the $33 million contract between CPS and the police became more popularized, and people got really angry about that. So, during the summer it was a really charged time—in a good way, because now people are learning more about why we want to get cops out of schools. But also they wanted to take action. So, this summer really sparked the campaign. We had a lot of meetings. [laughs] Some of which were with high school students who are just learning about the history of policing or cops in schools, and how that was not extremely effective. And we were concerned with actually building with them. We asked, “Then what do you need to keep yourself supported, loved, and safe in your school?” And then the two months before the vote, that was when things really got intense and busy. There was a lot of cool arts work, there were a lot of great events. And I remember during the first vote in late June, we went to Miguel’s [del Valle] house. He's the President of the Board of Education. And we just let him know, “Hey, what you're doing is anti-Black and here are students coming to tell you that they don't want cops in their schools. And if you ignore them, then you're ignoring Black and Brown youth and we’re going to use that against you.” So after that event, people were like, “What? I want to get into this because oh, no, no way we could do something else about it? Oh, I want to be a part of that.” So, then a lot more youth wanted to get more involved. And then we learned about local school councils, and how we said it should not be up to your local school councils because not all of them have the power, most are adultist, most do not actually represent the student body. So, that led to a lot of events throughout the summer. A lot of our youth talked to the Board of Education members and also aldermen and local school councils, even though that wasn't our goal. We wanted to, at least, try and build momentum, and tell our schools that, “Hey, these students do not want cops in our school.” So some people created a survey, and they got hundreds of responses and then people at my school had a march— EG: What school are you talking about? AE: I graduated from Whitney Young High School on the Near West Side. And we had a march and rally at Whitney Young, and so many people came out. Class is not in session and we had a great turnout. EG: So, what was the outcome? I know several school councils voted over the summer on whether or not to keep cops in school. AE: They ultimately voted to retain. It was very insulting, and the media portrayed how the administration basically ignored youth, and went with their adultist, dismissive ways. We were also exposing the administration because they’d had a long history of being essentially violent and dismissing what actually happens in our schools. They also ignored our data, we provided alternatives and ideas and feedback from students who said they didn’t want cops in our schools. Even though they voted to retain, they said, ultimately, that they will try to get cops out of our school and said that the vote can be revisited during the school year. I still consider it a win because we had a decent amount of people who came to the student’s side. There were teachers who came to our rally and our march and they tried to talk to other teachers, and it really started a very important conversation about what goes on in that toxic high school. EG: Wonderful. That's a big deal. That's a win, right? We know, in the organizing world, getting people to move a vote is certainly enough to be considered a win. And I really enjoyed seeing so many righteous, fierce and loaded with information young people out this summer really pushing adults to do better. I noticed during the final vote on #CopsOutCPS that there was a canvas poster at the action that was titled “We do this for,” with people's names written on it. One of the things I’m interested in is talking about makeshift or corner memorials that memorialize people that have been lost, and the ways in which we memorialize people in movement work. So, like with the tombstones that happened during #NoCop action, can you talk about why it was important to have that remembrance at the action? AE: I really loved that banner, and I’m so glad it was there because it shows that we are out here, not just for ourselves, but for our people. And in my opinion, it's insulting how people—especially the media—try to twist our story in a way and think we're just idiots or rambunctious, and they think we're not human, in a sense. And they easily dismiss these people and their lives, and what they’ve done. So when we write her name, when we write his name, when we write their name, I feel like we're not forgetting their stories and we’re remembering them along this long-time fight, in a sense. I really love that when we memorialize our people, then we honor them and make sure their names are never forgotten because, in the end, they were not martyrs. They did not want to die. These people are gone, but they wanted to live their lives. So, we want to make sure that their lives are still remembered and still appreciated. We give love and lights to them through these memorials. We want to build a better future where they won’t have to die or where there's no suffering so we can build towards the future that actually lets us live and thrive. And not just survive but actually thrive in a sense, where we are all supported. A future where we don't have to struggle and we're liberated. EG: You answered this more generally, but I’m curious to know why you think it’s important in particular for Black folks to uplift the names of folks who have been murdered or victims of various kinds of state violence? Do you think these kinds of memorials have a different kind of resonance in Black communities? AE: In particular to Black people, I think two things: First, I really despise how there is a very powerful narrative that Black people don’t care about themselves, in a sense. The media will say, “Well, y’all don't do this when your people are victims of Black-on-Black crime.” Even though that’s a myth. It was very hurtful, and it enrages me how people get to that conclusion that we do not care about our people. But the media will never amplify these people who lost their lives. They will just say, “A man, 32, dead.” Or they’ll say the police responded, but won’t talk about how the police didn’t do anything to actually help them. So, I feel Black people, we have the power to tell our own stories, we have the power to amplify their lives. Second, we have the power to actually create a community-led response to what's going on. And I feel like if it’s not Black people, no one else will do it because the world is anti-Black. So, through our love, through our connections, it is our duty to uplift these people. It is our duty to recognize these were people and now they’re gone. It is our duty to never forget them. They are not disposable. ︎ <img width="1500" height="995" width_o="1500" height_o="995" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/fd6b69ee61b9b39e017f7896819fd496f9bc46d770570eb31add1ace726bfd06/st13003473_0005.jpg" data-mid="85221148" border="0" alt="Image: A black-and-white photo of students from Westinghouse Area Vocational High School occupying the Board of Education offices at 228 North LaSalle Street, Chicago, Illinois, May 23, 1973. A large group of people sit on the ground, all facing a staircase where several officers stand, under a sign that reads &ldquo;Board of Education, City of Chicago.&rdquo; Chicago Sun-Times collection, Chicago History Museum. Photographers: Unknown." data-caption="Image: A black-and-white photo of students from Westinghouse Area Vocational High School occupying the Board of Education offices at 228 North LaSalle Street, Chicago, Illinois, May 23, 1973. A large group of people sit on the ground, all facing a staircase where several officers stand, under a sign that reads “Board of Education, City of Chicago.” Chicago Sun-Times collection, Chicago History Museum. Photographers: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/fd6b69ee61b9b39e017f7896819fd496f9bc46d770570eb31add1ace726bfd06/st13003473_0005.jpg" /> Erin Glasco (they/she) is a Black, queer, nonbinary femme who works as an independent archivist and researcher. Erin holds a MS in Library and Information Science from the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. Erin served as the Research Team Lead for #NoCopAcademy campaign. They are a member of The Blackivists, a collective of Black archivists who prioritize Black cultural heritage preservation and memory work. Erin’s interests include preserving and uplifting Black LGBTQIA+ narratives and materials, using transformative justice to inform community archival practice, and lending support to Black, queer, feminist informed grassroots movement work. https://losscaptureproject.cargo.site/More-than-a-Melody-Reimagining-the-Sounds-of-Blackness Sun, 04 Oct 2020 22:26:08 +0000 Loss/Capture https://losscaptureproject.cargo.site/More-than-a-Melody-Reimagining-the-Sounds-of-Blackness <img width="1500" height="1000" width_o="1500" height_o="1000" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/6a04133729f24d9c25c7d50d449559d98e3312fb75f0d654c65b5819250edf1d/2-IB-Pass-1.jpg" data-mid="84673980" border="0" alt="Illustration by Kiki Lechuga-Dupont." data-caption="Illustration by Kiki Lechuga-Dupont." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/6a04133729f24d9c25c7d50d449559d98e3312fb75f0d654c65b5819250edf1d/2-IB-Pass-1.jpg" /> More than a Melody: Reimagining the Sounds of BlacknessEssay by Ireashia M. Bennett <img width="1301" height="1600" width_o="1301" height_o="1600" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/91e790f1b96aab06f3c04bbafb60816fb2302834fb19de2be85edbc21d803b8d/WashingtonPark_0021.jpg" data-mid="84685710" border="0" alt="Image: A black-and-white photo of a performance in the Washington Park neighborhood, 5531 S Martin Luther King Dr, August 1, 1980. A saxophonist, bassist, and pianist sit at the edge of an open garage, playing to an audience. You can see listeners in the background along with cars parked along the street. Chicago Public Library, Special Collections &amp; Preservation Division. Photographer: Unknown." data-caption="Image: A black-and-white photo of a performance in the Washington Park neighborhood, 5531 S Martin Luther King Dr, August 1, 1980. A saxophonist, bassist, and pianist sit at the edge of an open garage, playing to an audience. You can see listeners in the background along with cars parked along the street. Chicago Public Library, Special Collections &amp; Preservation Division. Photographer: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/91e790f1b96aab06f3c04bbafb60816fb2302834fb19de2be85edbc21d803b8d/WashingtonPark_0021.jpg" /> When I was younger, music offered respite from my then-confusing and heavy reality. I felt very much like an outsider both at school and at home; my queerness was already enveloping me before I could fully claim ownership of it. Within this feeling of isolation, music became my solace and my first love. My love for music does not stop at a song, an album, or a musician. This love is rooted in a deep curiosity. As a teenager, I loved to study and learn about different types of music. I would scour the internet for hours researching new genres. I read countless articles and watched hours of interviews with musicians describing their creative process, inspiration, and work. I would stay up until 3am searching through LiveJournal music blogs and forums, watching YouTube clips, listening to Last.Fm, illegally downloading whole discographies or making mix CDs to listen to on the way to and from school. I prided myself for developing an “ear” for music. If I was hooked on a song, I extended my love by understanding the historical, geographical, social, political, and cultural contexts of its music genre or culture. I was voracious in my yearning to know the various lineages within Black music: the differences between Chicago Blues and Delta Blues, what hip hop shares with punk, how who we are and where we come from influence the distinction in sound. In other words, I am a HUGE music nerd. When I discovered the Center for Black Music Research (CBMR) while studying Jamaican dancehall music for a class project at Columbia College, I thought I died and went to heaven. I never dreamed a place like this could exist. The CBMR, founded in 1983 by Dr. Samuel A. Floyd with his own personal collection, is a special collections archive meant to highlight the role Black music has played in the world. Later expanded in 1991 at Columbia College, the CBMR holds 47,000 sound recordings in all formats; over 100 individual archival collections over 15,000 scores, images, concert programs, and newspaper clippings; and 8,700 secondary resources, including books, dissertations, and serials. All the materials in the collection center the brilliance of African and Black musicians, music cultures, and histories originating from, or representing, the United States, Africa, Europe, Latin America, and the Caribbean. The CBMR was the only special collection like it at the time of its foundation. When I visited for the first time, I felt the magnitude of this fact. From 2014 to 2016, the CBMR library became a sanctuary for me. The space itself was drab and not at all inviting, to be honest. But, the weight of knowledge that occupied its shelves drew me in. I learned so much during this time. How sacred it felt to exist within a space that expanded my understanding of not only Black music but also Blackness. I felt a sense of power and pride as I read about the African roots of Cúmbia music, the evolution of Jamaican reggae and dancehall in Puerto Rican reggaetón, and listened to the collaborations between bebop innovator Dizzy Gillespie and Afro-Cuban jazz musician Mario Bauzá. I was rediscovering Blackness. And, although these histories and cultures were different from my own, I felt welcomed and grounded by their Blackness. During my time at CBMR, I also learned that my obsession for music that began as an adolescent could become a career path in ethnomusicology if I chose. Before the age 23, I never heard that term or thought it possible to translate my love for music into the study of Black music cultures across the diaspora.&nbsp; <img width="1600" height="1292" width_o="1600" height_o="1292" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/d6d0138ce37bbc59b7db7812f818ea0433e8ae43e6875000321bbfce1b56a65d/UnionPark_0210.jpg" data-mid="84685709" border="0" alt="Image: Union Park Performance, April 19, 1935. A black-and-white photo shows the mass meeting of the officials and orchestra of Union Park with the presidents of West Side Women&rsquo;s Clubs, at Union Park fieldhouse in Chicago. The photo shows a large group of musicians holding their instruments, some seated facing one another and others standing behind them against the backdrop of a United States flag. Chicago Public Library. Special Collections &amp; Preservation Division. Photographer: Unknown." data-caption="Image: Union Park Performance, April 19, 1935. A black-and-white photo shows the mass meeting of the officials and orchestra of Union Park with the presidents of West Side Women’s Clubs, at Union Park fieldhouse in Chicago. The photo shows a large group of musicians holding their instruments, some seated facing one another and others standing behind them against the backdrop of a United States flag. Chicago Public Library. Special Collections &amp; Preservation Division. Photographer: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/d6d0138ce37bbc59b7db7812f818ea0433e8ae43e6875000321bbfce1b56a65d/UnionPark_0210.jpg" /> It wasn’t until I met Erin Glasco, one of my good friends, member of the Blackivists collective and badass, queer, radical archivist of my dreams, that I understood the importance of Black archives and the existence of community archives. Their passion illuminated the power archives have in shaping history as we know it — especially the history around Black, trans, and queer lives as well as social and political organizing work in the US. As I studied the history of Jamaican dancehall, Erin conducted research and curated a small exhibit at the CBMR on the FBI surveillance of noted singer, actor, and civil rights activist Paul Robeson.Erin’s presence and the CBMR space challenged me to expand my idea of what roles Black folks could play in and outside of institutions like the archives and academia. Before 2014, I thought all archivists were old, white, history teachers who were fixated on the Founding Fathers. And, I believed all archives were basically just libraries. After 2016, however, I understood archives to be conduits of memory, spaces of curiosity, exploration, and infinite knowledge. Archives could exist beyond institutional spaces and be owned, created and cultivated by communities. I understood that while the archives were still predominantly white spaces, there were also Black archivists—like the Blackivists— who made it a priority to problematize, challenge, and reframe the role archival institutions play within communities. And, I learned that as a visual artist, I also have a stake in preserving Black historical archives. <img width="390" height="500" width_o="390" height_o="500" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/188681c8de1727c24b4043bf2535ba1e148006281d95a4d274be97bdccd2b6c1/NMAAHC-2008_7_13_001.jpg" data-mid="84685704" border="0" alt="Image: A broadside of the grand opening of House of Blues Chicago, 1996. The broadside is blue, yellow and pink with black text. Black musical clefs and stars are on both sides of the broadside. James Brown and His Orchestra are featured as headlining act to perform at the opening. The location and telephone number for the restaurant are listed at the bottom of the broadside. At the bottom of the broadside written in black text is &ldquo;In Blues We Trust.&rdquo; Collection of the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture. Designer: Unknown." data-caption="Image: A broadside of the grand opening of House of Blues Chicago, 1996. The broadside is blue, yellow and pink with black text. Black musical clefs and stars are on both sides of the broadside. James Brown and His Orchestra are featured as headlining act to perform at the opening. The location and telephone number for the restaurant are listed at the bottom of the broadside. At the bottom of the broadside written in black text is “In Blues We Trust.” Collection of the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture. Designer: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/390/i/188681c8de1727c24b4043bf2535ba1e148006281d95a4d274be97bdccd2b6c1/NMAAHC-2008_7_13_001.jpg" /> <img width="1600" height="1302" width_o="1600" height_o="1302" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/966b46abd6b841e9fdfe11ea263a2ca2f85fae0f2f15409a639399dc0944f967/Union-Park_0210_choir.jpg" data-mid="84685706" border="0" alt="Image: A black-and-white photo of a Union Park Music Appreciation performance, June 21, 1940. Photo shows nine young people standing on chairs, five turned to the left, four to the right, all singing from sheet music. Chicago Public Library. Special Collections &amp; Preservation Division. Photographer: Unknown." data-caption="Image: A black-and-white photo of a Union Park Music Appreciation performance, June 21, 1940. Photo shows nine young people standing on chairs, five turned to the left, four to the right, all singing from sheet music. Chicago Public Library. Special Collections &amp; Preservation Division. Photographer: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/966b46abd6b841e9fdfe11ea263a2ca2f85fae0f2f15409a639399dc0944f967/Union-Park_0210_choir.jpg" /> <img width="1600" height="1303" width_o="1600" height_o="1303" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/7cc15d49b74588e4e71c5facb1c49f9c9adb1d060ef25eeaa3acf07e89c4c858/TaylorPark_-0271-.jpg" data-mid="84685705" border="0" alt="Image: A black-and-white photo from the Taylor Park Open House on Grand Boulevard in Chicago, IL on April 1, 1962. The photo shows a packed gymnasium of people surrounding musicians and a band. Photographer: Unknown." data-caption="Image: A black-and-white photo from the Taylor Park Open House on Grand Boulevard in Chicago, IL on April 1, 1962. The photo shows a packed gymnasium of people surrounding musicians and a band. Photographer: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/7cc15d49b74588e4e71c5facb1c49f9c9adb1d060ef25eeaa3acf07e89c4c858/TaylorPark_-0271-.jpg" /> While I knew CBMR to be a sacred space of memory, there seemed to be a disconnect between the Columbia College administration and the CBMR. Very few Columbia students, faculty, and staff knew of its existence. And, if they knew, I rarely saw them. Music scholars from places like the Netherlands, Germany, and other countries would come in during the summer. Their visits would activate the space. During the last three-to-four years, CBMR librarians Laura Lee Moses and Janet Harper, student assistants Dre X. Meza and Avia Bodemer, and research fellow Melanie Zeck, who I engaged with regularly, made efforts to bring folks in.&nbsp; However, their efforts were never sustained due to lack of funding and support from Columbia College administration. When I visited the CBMR for the last time, Columbia’s previously subtle divestment from the archive became more apparent. I walked in the space and was greeted with empty bookshelves, tables and chairs pushed against walls, and a single baby-grand piano in the middle of the room. My stomach dropped when I saw the bare bookshelves. I shared my shock with Dre and they informed me that shifts were being made to how people could access CBMR’s library. The Columbia’s College Archives and Special Collections office moved all of the library books to the back room, making them no longer visible to visitors. So, instead of perusing at their leisure, visitors would have to look up a specific book online and then ask a librarian for access. The experience of discovering new knowledge that felt so intrinsic to accessing the library was lost. In July 2019,&nbsp; the Columbia Chronicle reported that due to staffing challenges at the college, Laurie and Janet were terminated from the CBMR and Melanie resigned. With this news came confusion about what would happen to the collection. Will it remain its own designated space or will it become buried within Columbia’s larger library? How will the public or those outside academia access it? “We will spend the coming year and beyond thinking through how we can best leverage this uniquely rich collection, and what resources will be required to highlight its value to our students and to scholars of the music of the African Diaspora,” said Kwang-Wu Kim, President and CEO of Columbia College in an email sent to faculty and staff. Currently, only researchers are allowed to schedule appointments with the main library to navigate the collection. Even so, it was unclear before the COVID-19 pandemic if the CBMR collections could be available to the public. What was crystal clear to me upon hearing the news is that the public had no access to the very space that became something of a sanctuary for me during my undergraduate years. Like so many other institutions that hold hostage records of whole histories and people’s cultures, the CBMR became inaccessible to those outside its walls. While reading the article, hurt and anger lodged tightly in my throat; I began to dream. In this dream, I obtained enough funding to recapture the CBMR collections from Columbia College library and relocate it to Washington Park—a central location on the South Side that is also the home to the DuSable Museum of African American History. I envisioned the CBMR expanding into a community space, a gallery space, and a performance space, while still grounded in its original identity as a “nexus for all who value Black music.” Here, in my reimagined CBMR, there are free classes teaching Black music cultures from around the globe; introducing ethnomusicology, archiving, and librarianship; and hosting workshops on how to start your own personal or community archive. This place is accessible to all. In this vision, the CBMR is reshaped with intention and care by Black archivists, artists, scholars, stakeholders and community members in Chicago. It is no longer a static space. Instead, it has truly become a conduit of memory, infinite possibility, and an incubator of innovation. I think back to my younger self. I wonder how different I would be if I had access to the CBMR, Reimagined. If I knew there was a space where I could listen to records of James Brown and Ella Fitzgerald? How different would my concept of Blues had been if I read, “Blues People: Negro Music in White America” by Leroi Jones as a senior in high school? What if I knew it was okay to nerd out on music and that it was possible for me to study ethnomusicology? What if? Although this dream is not a reality, I am left with the uncomfortable and unanswered question: Who owns our story, our history, our culture? Seems like it’s the highest bidder these days. Thousands upon thousands of photos, documents, books, music, and artifacts that tell stories of the lives, brilliance, and work of Black folks are behind walls, in closets, and on shelves, collecting dust. Accessible only to some, and inaccessible mostly to others. How do we recapture and reclaim them if we don’t know they exist? ︎&nbsp; <img width="1578" height="1284" width_o="1578" height_o="1284" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/5f99889eb3dae022dc522bc3b5fa0ba08a92aa4a35b00060cbc19c67f1c3fe82/Union-Park_0210_boygroup.jpg" data-mid="84685707" border="0" alt="Image: A black-and-white photo of a Union Park Performance, undated. The photo shows four people and a guitar player to the left of them, in the middle of a choreographed move. Chicago Public Library, Special Collections &amp; Preservation Division. Photographer: Unknown." data-caption="Image: A black-and-white photo of a Union Park Performance, undated. The photo shows four people and a guitar player to the left of them, in the middle of a choreographed move. Chicago Public Library, Special Collections &amp; Preservation Division. Photographer: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/5f99889eb3dae022dc522bc3b5fa0ba08a92aa4a35b00060cbc19c67f1c3fe82/Union-Park_0210_boygroup.jpg" /> Ireashia M. Bennett (they/them) is a multidisciplinary artist and transmedia storyteller who explores the complexities of trauma, survival, and healing within Black communities. They earned a B.A. in Journalism from Columbia College Chicago. They produce multimedia essays, short documentaries, and experimental films to ensure complex issues are accessible to all. With multimedia collage, Ireashia weaves together archival materials with captured imagery to explore how trauma, and the process of healing through meaning-making, is embedded in Black people’s genealogy, ancestral memory, and history. Their artistic work has been exhibited locally in art spaces such as the Sullivan Galleries, Arts Incubator, Stony Island Arts Bank, and Chicago Art Department as well as nationally at the Museum of African American History in Boston, MA. They currently work as the Audio-Visual Production Manager at Ci3 at the University of Chicago, where they combine transmedia storytelling with adolescent sexual health research. https://losscaptureproject.cargo.site/The-Lens-of-John-H-White-A-View-of-Black-Life-in-Chicago-1973 Mon, 12 Oct 2020 22:54:18 +0000 Loss/Capture https://losscaptureproject.cargo.site/The-Lens-of-John-H-White-A-View-of-Black-Life-in-Chicago-1973 <img width="1500" height="1000" width_o="1500" height_o="1000" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/958c896a906b3db521f48ab67ce0aa9c912f19ee24c0c3b722d72c3bbd0dc039/6-The-Lens-of-John-H-White.jpg" data-mid="85500848" border="0" alt="Illustration by Kiki Lechuga-Dupont." data-caption="Illustration by Kiki Lechuga-Dupont." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/958c896a906b3db521f48ab67ce0aa9c912f19ee24c0c3b722d72c3bbd0dc039/6-The-Lens-of-John-H-White.jpg" /> The Lens of John H. White: A View of Black Life in Chicago, 1973 &nbsp;&nbsp; Photo essay by Steven D. Booth In his speech, “Using Federal Archives: Some Problems in Doing Research,” Nigerian historian Okon Edet Uya notes that federal records often “describe the Afro-American experience from the outside in rather than from the inside out…this has led to a situation where Afro-American history, for some, is nothing more than the sum total of the conflicting activities of the various government levels for or against [B]lack people.” He goes on to suggest that other methods, such as eyewitness accounts, should be used to fill critical gaps that are missing from these often one-sided narratives, as through those eyewitness accounts that the stories of the Black experience can be “collected from people who observed or participated in the historical process described” in the records. One example of such a historical process is the Environmental Protection Agency’s (EPA) DOCUMERICA Project, in particular the photographs contributed by noted Black photojournalist John H. White. &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp; White was hired as one of many freelancers to document the environmental challenges of the 1970s in the US, and he journeyed across the South and West sides of Chicago documenting everyday Black life through photography. His images capture the people, events, and places—some of which are no longer extant—that highlight the rich history and unique culture of Black Chicagoans. Apart from the photographs, their subjects, and visual qualities, what’s notably interesting about this body of work is White’s captions. Unlike other photographers, he describes his subjects with an intimacy and familiarity that acknowledges their lives and livelihoods. Rather than leave the description to viewer interpretation, White provides context to help us understand who and what we’re seeing. His use of data from local and federal reports underscores some of the disparities Black people face and lack of resources in our communities, many of which persist to this day. White’s eyewitness account, as a Black man capturing Black experiences, asks us to consider that the economic conditions and material environments of those photographed are not of Black people’s individual making. Indeed, White’s portrayals of Black Chicagoans are suffused with historical and political consciousness. He shows us that despite our circumstances and surroundings, Black people have and continue to not only survive but also thrive in the face of adversity. The photos are displayed with their original captions. <img width="3000" height="2033" width_o="3000" height_o="2033" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/ead5621acf86ba11845a1ceb0da77e3dccaf31ef7af5b7501c4810ff42d852a5/Booth_PhotoEssay_001a.jpg" data-mid="85396797" border="0" alt="South Side Black workers passing the time playing checkers on East 35th Street before going to work in Chicago. The city census figures show a significant gap in economic security between Blacks and whites. Median Black income between 1960 and 1970 increased from $4,700 to $7,883 but the dollar gap between the two races widened. Blacks were receiving [an] average of $3,603 less than the median white family, May 1973." data-caption="South Side Black workers passing the time playing checkers on East 35th Street before going to work in Chicago. The city census figures show a significant gap in economic security between Blacks and whites. Median Black income between 1960 and 1970 increased from $4,700 to $7,883 but the dollar gap between the two races widened. Blacks were receiving [an] average of $3,603 less than the median white family, May 1973." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/ead5621acf86ba11845a1ceb0da77e3dccaf31ef7af5b7501c4810ff42d852a5/Booth_PhotoEssay_001a.jpg" /> <img width="3000" height="2036" width_o="3000" height_o="2036" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/f0ff85db8b69856e642823beb94cae9452a49fcc3b31c7d08e9c5c1edae4befb/Booth_PhotoEssay_001b.jpg" data-mid="85396798" border="0" alt="Black children play outside the Ida B. Wells Homes, one of Chicago&rsquo;s oldest housing projects. There are 1,652 apartments housing 5,920 persons in 124 buildings on the South Side. Many buildings in this part of the city have been systematically vacated for various reasons. Even though many are salvageable, they are razed and replaced with high rent highrises, which have little or no appeal to the area&rsquo;s previous residents, May 1973." data-caption="Black children play outside the Ida B. Wells Homes, one of Chicago’s oldest housing projects. There are 1,652 apartments housing 5,920 persons in 124 buildings on the South Side. Many buildings in this part of the city have been systematically vacated for various reasons. Even though many are salvageable, they are razed and replaced with high rent highrises, which have little or no appeal to the area’s previous residents, May 1973." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/f0ff85db8b69856e642823beb94cae9452a49fcc3b31c7d08e9c5c1edae4befb/Booth_PhotoEssay_001b.jpg" /> <img width="2040" height="3000" width_o="2040" height_o="3000" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/7a75e7399656053a4585a785626221af9f83ed30e66dbc4f9cbebfe83e5bcd95/Booth_PhotoEssay_001c.jpg" data-mid="85397189" border="0" alt="Summer fun means cooling off with water from a fire hydrant at Woodlawn community, a low income high-rise apartment complex on Chicago&rsquo;s South Side. These children don&rsquo;t go to the city beaches. Cooling off with open fire hydrants is a community tradition. The area has high crime and fire records. From 1960 to 1970 the percentage of Chicago Blacks with an income of $7,000 or more jumped from 26 to 56 percent, but still fell behind the gain made by whites, June 1973." data-caption="Summer fun means cooling off with water from a fire hydrant at Woodlawn community, a low income high-rise apartment complex on Chicago’s South Side. These children don’t go to the city beaches. Cooling off with open fire hydrants is a community tradition. The area has high crime and fire records. From 1960 to 1970 the percentage of Chicago Blacks with an income of $7,000 or more jumped from 26 to 56 percent, but still fell behind the gain made by whites, June 1973." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/7a75e7399656053a4585a785626221af9f83ed30e66dbc4f9cbebfe83e5bcd95/Booth_PhotoEssay_001c.jpg" /> <img width="2028" height="3000" width_o="2028" height_o="3000" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/52e288433390edd3185e991a96e5b782e0afddc53feda0fbba7aa518aa75ca9b/Booth_PhotoEssay_001d.jpg" data-mid="85397212" border="0" alt="Black couple and their dog in their apartment in South Side Chicago. From 1960 to 1970 the percentage of Chicago Blacks with an income of $7,000 or more jumped from 26 to 58 percent. Median Black income during the period increased from $4,000 to $7,883. But the difference between their median income and that of whites increased from $3,251 to $3,603 during the 10 years, June 1973." data-caption="Black couple and their dog in their apartment in South Side Chicago. From 1960 to 1970 the percentage of Chicago Blacks with an income of $7,000 or more jumped from 26 to 58 percent. Median Black income during the period increased from $4,000 to $7,883. But the difference between their median income and that of whites increased from $3,251 to $3,603 during the 10 years, June 1973." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/52e288433390edd3185e991a96e5b782e0afddc53feda0fbba7aa518aa75ca9b/Booth_PhotoEssay_001d.jpg" /> <img width="2015" height="3000" width_o="2015" height_o="3000" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/a0973ae76574f4a4b53b2a6669283f585745b23ad2d9c5635b8daf07d76751c8/Booth_PhotoEssay_001e.jpg" data-mid="85397291" border="0" alt="Black woman sits on a porch swing on Chicago&rsquo;s West Side and surveys her rose garden. She is one of nearly 1.2 million of her race who make up more than one third of Chicago&rsquo;s population. She lives in an area which was hard hit by riots and fires during the mid and late 1960s. The 1970 census noted that 22 to 29 percent of the area&rsquo;s residents lived below the official poverty level, June 1973. " data-caption="Black woman sits on a porch swing on Chicago’s West Side and surveys her rose garden. She is one of nearly 1.2 million of her race who make up more than one third of Chicago’s population. She lives in an area which was hard hit by riots and fires during the mid and late 1960s. The 1970 census noted that 22 to 29 percent of the area’s residents lived below the official poverty level, June 1973. " src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/a0973ae76574f4a4b53b2a6669283f585745b23ad2d9c5635b8daf07d76751c8/Booth_PhotoEssay_001e.jpg" /> <img width="3000" height="2023" width_o="3000" height_o="2023" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/6f8247ccbe39f47b54dcf57032e03200524542f42166bec69ab15d8f940c029c/Booth_PhotoEssay_001f.jpg" data-mid="85397303" border="0" alt="Black balloon salesman on South Side Chicago&rsquo;s 47th Street. Many of the city&rsquo;s Black business owners started with small operations such as this and grew by working hard. Today, Chicago is believed to be the Black business capital of the United States. But Black have a harder time staying in business than their white counterparts. Statistics note that 80 percent of Black businesses do not survive two years. Racial prejudice, lack of capital and expertise are party responsible, June 1973." data-caption="Black balloon salesman on South Side Chicago’s 47th Street. Many of the city’s Black business owners started with small operations such as this and grew by working hard. Today, Chicago is believed to be the Black business capital of the United States. But Black have a harder time staying in business than their white counterparts. Statistics note that 80 percent of Black businesses do not survive two years. Racial prejudice, lack of capital and expertise are party responsible, June 1973." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/6f8247ccbe39f47b54dcf57032e03200524542f42166bec69ab15d8f940c029c/Booth_PhotoEssay_001f.jpg" /> <img width="3000" height="2033" width_o="3000" height_o="2033" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/945b41dabd0db9a19beeccac7b9a2b21526afa9d2572c723682c445460fb371c/Booth_PhotoEssay_RTH.jpg" data-mid="85398049" border="0" alt="Robert Taylor Homes, a low income highrise apartment complex inhabited by Blacks on Chicago&rsquo;s South Side. There are 28 buildings with 4,312 apartment housing 25,220 persons. A goal of many residents is to find a job that pays enough for them to reach middle class status and move. From 1960 to 1970 the percentage of Chicago Blacks with an income of $7,000 or more jumped from 26 to 58 percent. In 1970 Blacks had a median income of $7,883, but it was $3,603 less than that for whites, June 1973." data-caption="Robert Taylor Homes, a low income highrise apartment complex inhabited by Blacks on Chicago’s South Side. There are 28 buildings with 4,312 apartment housing 25,220 persons. A goal of many residents is to find a job that pays enough for them to reach middle class status and move. From 1960 to 1970 the percentage of Chicago Blacks with an income of $7,000 or more jumped from 26 to 58 percent. In 1970 Blacks had a median income of $7,883, but it was $3,603 less than that for whites, June 1973." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/945b41dabd0db9a19beeccac7b9a2b21526afa9d2572c723682c445460fb371c/Booth_PhotoEssay_RTH.jpg" /> <img width="2027" height="3000" width_o="2027" height_o="3000" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/8d0de3c7d93084a66023f016f7fbb22e9e3047b70384117af4528e8c1dc7d664/Booth_PhotoEssay_001g.jpg" data-mid="85398051" border="0" alt="Black women on one of the balconies of the Robert Taylor Homes, low income highrise apartments in Chicago. It is a complex of 28 buildings located between the 3900 and 5400 blocks on State Street with 4,312 apartments housing 25,220 persons. Median Black income from 1960 to 1970 increased from $4,700 to $7,883 but was $3,603 below median white income. Chicago Blacks with an income of more than $7,000 during the period jumped from 26 to 58 percent, June 1973." data-caption="Black women on one of the balconies of the Robert Taylor Homes, low income highrise apartments in Chicago. It is a complex of 28 buildings located between the 3900 and 5400 blocks on State Street with 4,312 apartments housing 25,220 persons. Median Black income from 1960 to 1970 increased from $4,700 to $7,883 but was $3,603 below median white income. Chicago Blacks with an income of more than $7,000 during the period jumped from 26 to 58 percent, June 1973." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/8d0de3c7d93084a66023f016f7fbb22e9e3047b70384117af4528e8c1dc7d664/Booth_PhotoEssay_001g.jpg" /> <img width="3000" height="2012" width_o="3000" height_o="2012" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/21c611093bafe4b65afca9f8c4a9a50970a320cd25172a31057b371ab4b4e7b7/Booth_PhotoEssay_CTA.jpg" data-mid="85398057" border="0" alt="Once one of Chicago&rsquo;s busy thoroughfares, 63rd Street has changed with the character of the city. Many fires have resulted [in] driving out more businesses which either follow the flight of other stores to more prosperous areas or cease to exist. The &ldquo;El&rdquo; (elevated train) tracks are seen in the upper portion of the picture. During 1973 the Chicago Transit Authority reported 95,160,535 passengers used the facilities, July 1973." data-caption="Once one of Chicago’s busy thoroughfares, 63rd Street has changed with the character of the city. Many fires have resulted [in] driving out more businesses which either follow the flight of other stores to more prosperous areas or cease to exist. The “El” (elevated train) tracks are seen in the upper portion of the picture. During 1973 the Chicago Transit Authority reported 95,160,535 passengers used the facilities, July 1973." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/21c611093bafe4b65afca9f8c4a9a50970a320cd25172a31057b371ab4b4e7b7/Booth_PhotoEssay_CTA.jpg" /> <img width="3000" height="2012" width_o="3000" height_o="2012" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/eb39e007f96dc2f57559fa1b4fc359efaedfc14955d8ca888ea804072e58f99b/Booth_PhotoEssay_001h.jpg" data-mid="85397477" border="0" alt="Black sidewalk salesmen arranging their fresh fruits and vegetables on Chicago's South Side. Today, Chicago is believed to be the Black business capital of the United States. But Blacks have a harder time staying in business than their white counterparts. Statistics note that 80 percent of Black businesses do not survive two years. Racial prejudice, lack of capital and expertise are partly responsible, June 1973." data-caption="Black sidewalk salesmen arranging their fresh fruits and vegetables on Chicago's South Side. Today, Chicago is believed to be the Black business capital of the United States. But Blacks have a harder time staying in business than their white counterparts. Statistics note that 80 percent of Black businesses do not survive two years. Racial prejudice, lack of capital and expertise are partly responsible, June 1973." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/eb39e007f96dc2f57559fa1b4fc359efaedfc14955d8ca888ea804072e58f99b/Booth_PhotoEssay_001h.jpg" /> <img width="2036" height="3000" width_o="2036" height_o="3000" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/72280bf63a5dab1e6f8fe54006a4274491d5bc742b62eb15e56e201c37868b6a/Booth_PhotoEssay_001i.jpg" data-mid="85398181" border="0" alt="Black residents of Chicago's West Side check out a motorcycle. The city's West Side did not quickly recover from the riots and fires of the mid to late 1960s. According to the 1970 Census, some 22 to 29 percent of the area&rsquo;s residents were below the official poverty line. A Black businessman&rsquo;s group, with federal help, had signed agreements with several nationwide franchises that pumped $20 million in jobs into the community, June 1973." data-caption="Black residents of Chicago's West Side check out a motorcycle. The city's West Side did not quickly recover from the riots and fires of the mid to late 1960s. According to the 1970 Census, some 22 to 29 percent of the area’s residents were below the official poverty line. A Black businessman’s group, with federal help, had signed agreements with several nationwide franchises that pumped $20 million in jobs into the community, June 1973." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/72280bf63a5dab1e6f8fe54006a4274491d5bc742b62eb15e56e201c37868b6a/Booth_PhotoEssay_001i.jpg" /> <img width="3000" height="2035" width_o="3000" height_o="2035" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/ef513819472180b300664d1fe43b0bcef417e0167751569403c793eec3d4491a/Booth_PhotoEssay_WestSide.jpg" data-mid="85398219" border="0" alt="Black community older housing on Chicago&rsquo;s West Side. This area in 1973 had not quite recovered from the riots and fires during the mid and late 1960s. According to the 1970 census, 22 to 29 percent of the residents were below the poverty level. Black West Side businessman formed an organization, funded by the federal government, which resulted in agreements with major national franchises and resulted in some $20 million in jobs for area citizens by 1974, June 1973." data-caption="Black community older housing on Chicago’s West Side. This area in 1973 had not quite recovered from the riots and fires during the mid and late 1960s. According to the 1970 census, 22 to 29 percent of the residents were below the poverty level. Black West Side businessman formed an organization, funded by the federal government, which resulted in agreements with major national franchises and resulted in some $20 million in jobs for area citizens by 1974, June 1973." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/ef513819472180b300664d1fe43b0bcef417e0167751569403c793eec3d4491a/Booth_PhotoEssay_WestSide.jpg" /> <img width="3000" height="2030" width_o="3000" height_o="2030" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/e1710c9202b08d097aa1d7d2276517287ff41aaf1dd9ca1da835148ea4ab59d7/Booth_PhotoEssay_001j.jpg" data-mid="85398320" border="0" alt="Black youngsters performing on an empty lot at 5400 South Princeton Avenue on Chicago&rsquo;s South Side at a small community program called &ldquo;An Open Air Fashion and Talent Show&rdquo; presented by &ldquo;The New Between the Tracks Council,&rdquo; a community block group. It is one of many block clubs and community groups organized to help youngsters &ldquo;do their thing&rdquo; during special weekend programs in empty lots in the Black communities, August 1973." data-caption="Black youngsters performing on an empty lot at 5400 South Princeton Avenue on Chicago’s South Side at a small community program called “An Open Air Fashion and Talent Show” presented by “The New Between the Tracks Council,” a community block group. It is one of many block clubs and community groups organized to help youngsters “do their thing” during special weekend programs in empty lots in the Black communities, August 1973." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/e1710c9202b08d097aa1d7d2276517287ff41aaf1dd9ca1da835148ea4ab59d7/Booth_PhotoEssay_001j.jpg" /> <img width="2034" height="3000" width_o="2034" height_o="3000" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/120401d9bf402a55fbc5a9c508d2ea345df463128827ed6d4364689b9d1a1fe8/Booth_PhotoEssay_001k.jpg" data-mid="85398332" border="0" alt="Black man enjoying a nap on a chaise lounge on Chicagoo&rsquo;s South Side. From 1960 to 1970 the percentage of Chicago Blacks with an income of $7,000 or more jumped from 26 to 58 percent. Median Black income during the period increased from $4,700 to $7,883, but the dollar gap between their group and that of whites actually widened, August 1973." data-caption="Black man enjoying a nap on a chaise lounge on Chicagoo’s South Side. From 1960 to 1970 the percentage of Chicago Blacks with an income of $7,000 or more jumped from 26 to 58 percent. Median Black income during the period increased from $4,700 to $7,883, but the dollar gap between their group and that of whites actually widened, August 1973." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/120401d9bf402a55fbc5a9c508d2ea345df463128827ed6d4364689b9d1a1fe8/Booth_PhotoEssay_001k.jpg" /> <img width="3000" height="2040" width_o="3000" height_o="2040" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/e4cb8d50eb0594c239d2992ed6b938e48eb84b7eb18557262525b7fef157d931/Booth_PhotoEssay_001l.jpg" data-mid="85398335" border="0" alt="Black beauties with colorful hair grace a float during the annual Bud Billiken Day Parade along Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Drive on Chicago&rsquo;s South Side. Up to half a million people view one of the largest events of the year, held for Blacks of all ages and economic status. The parade also includes Black politicians, Black businesses displaying their products, and Black bands, August 1973." data-caption="Black beauties with colorful hair grace a float during the annual Bud Billiken Day Parade along Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Drive on Chicago’s South Side. Up to half a million people view one of the largest events of the year, held for Blacks of all ages and economic status. The parade also includes Black politicians, Black businesses displaying their products, and Black bands, August 1973." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/e4cb8d50eb0594c239d2992ed6b938e48eb84b7eb18557262525b7fef157d931/Booth_PhotoEssay_001l.jpg" /> <img width="3000" height="2028" width_o="3000" height_o="2028" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/4195e33409a37d259accec1d8ed1a20e2c810a77a6b0ffe8c19ae0a1d9f6dac5/Booth_PhotoEssay_001m.jpg" data-mid="85398456" border="0" alt="Washington Park on Chicago's South Side where many Black families enjoy picnicking during the summer. From 1960 to 1970 the percentage of Chicago Blacks with an income of $7,000 or more jumped from 26 to 58 percent. Median Black income during the period increased from $4,700 to $7,883, but the dollar gap between their group and that of whites actually widened, August 1973." data-caption="Washington Park on Chicago's South Side where many Black families enjoy picnicking during the summer. From 1960 to 1970 the percentage of Chicago Blacks with an income of $7,000 or more jumped from 26 to 58 percent. Median Black income during the period increased from $4,700 to $7,883, but the dollar gap between their group and that of whites actually widened, August 1973." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/4195e33409a37d259accec1d8ed1a20e2c810a77a6b0ffe8c19ae0a1d9f6dac5/Booth_PhotoEssay_001m.jpg" /> <img width="3000" height="2031" width_o="3000" height_o="2031" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/b9aeed9558e66772d3099fea177213528dcee6e363c129ace7ce5a29cd8fc8b5/Booth_PhotoEssay_001n.jpg" data-mid="85398459" border="0" alt="Chicago families enjoying the summer weather at the 12th Street Beach on Lake Michigan. From 1960 to 1970 the percentage of Chicago Blacks with an income of $7,000 or more jumped from 26 to 58 percent. Median Black income during the period increased from $4,700 to $7,883, but the dollar gap between their group and that of whites actually widened, August 1973." data-caption="Chicago families enjoying the summer weather at the 12th Street Beach on Lake Michigan. From 1960 to 1970 the percentage of Chicago Blacks with an income of $7,000 or more jumped from 26 to 58 percent. Median Black income during the period increased from $4,700 to $7,883, but the dollar gap between their group and that of whites actually widened, August 1973." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/b9aeed9558e66772d3099fea177213528dcee6e363c129ace7ce5a29cd8fc8b5/Booth_PhotoEssay_001n.jpg" /> <img width="3000" height="2029" width_o="3000" height_o="2029" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/262dca5fc52f9f8e24a6c39eda044689ac99471e0587ac25f5933b66d4f1eec4/Booth_PhotoEssay_001o.jpg" data-mid="85398460" border="0" alt="The Kadats of America, Chicago's most loved young Black drill team shown performing on a Sunday afternoon at a community talent show on the South Side. [The] leader of the group is Major General Acklin who works with the youngsters to give them a positive outlook on life. The group has won many marching and drill awards, and has performed in many area parades, August 1973." data-caption="The Kadats of America, Chicago's most loved young Black drill team shown performing on a Sunday afternoon at a community talent show on the South Side. [The] leader of the group is Major General Acklin who works with the youngsters to give them a positive outlook on life. The group has won many marching and drill awards, and has performed in many area parades, August 1973." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/262dca5fc52f9f8e24a6c39eda044689ac99471e0587ac25f5933b66d4f1eec4/Booth_PhotoEssay_001o.jpg" /> <img width="3000" height="2043" width_o="3000" height_o="2043" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/ed17de313a595b8394d8608e27124420403ee52be2341d448fc697cf653a46de/Booth_PhotoEssay_Seniors.jpg" data-mid="85398694" border="0" alt="A senior citizens&rsquo; march to protest inflation, unemployment and high taxes stopped along Lake Shore Drive in Chicago to hear speeches from various officials. The rally was headed by the Rev. Jesse Jackson and Operation Push, October 1973." data-caption="A senior citizens’ march to protest inflation, unemployment and high taxes stopped along Lake Shore Drive in Chicago to hear speeches from various officials. The rally was headed by the Rev. Jesse Jackson and Operation Push, October 1973." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/ed17de313a595b8394d8608e27124420403ee52be2341d448fc697cf653a46de/Booth_PhotoEssay_Seniors.jpg" /> <img width="2019" height="3000" width_o="2019" height_o="3000" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/beffe0f75d681f9d771d4579b152c2718c84711d111903de1ed62f3be45b32ca/Booth_PhotoEssay_001p.jpg" data-mid="85398696" border="0" alt="Black soul singer Isaac Hayes performs at the International Amphitheater in Chicago as part of the annual [Operation] Push &ldquo;Black Expo&rdquo; in the fall of 1973. The annual event showcases Black talent, educational opportunities, stars, art, and products to provide Blacks with an awareness of their heritage and capabilities, and help them towards a better life, October 1973." data-caption="Black soul singer Isaac Hayes performs at the International Amphitheater in Chicago as part of the annual [Operation] Push “Black Expo” in the fall of 1973. The annual event showcases Black talent, educational opportunities, stars, art, and products to provide Blacks with an awareness of their heritage and capabilities, and help them towards a better life, October 1973." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/beffe0f75d681f9d771d4579b152c2718c84711d111903de1ed62f3be45b32ca/Booth_PhotoEssay_001p.jpg" /> <img width="2028" height="3000" width_o="2028" height_o="3000" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/b9a938caa3aa6db1714be3a082c3f419ad67dcf0cdfd93c0cabf357b5ccd1bbf/Booth_PhotoEssay_001q.jpg" data-mid="85398697" border="0" alt="Black student in a Black studies class in a West Side Chicago classroom reading a book about &ldquo;Great Rulers in Africa&rsquo;s Past.&rdquo; Recent years have seen a resurgence by various minorities of their histories. Pride in their heritage has led to continuing traditions and aspects of their culture, which are unique in American tradition, October 1973." data-caption="Black student in a Black studies class in a West Side Chicago classroom reading a book about “Great Rulers in Africa’s Past.” Recent years have seen a resurgence by various minorities of their histories. Pride in their heritage has led to continuing traditions and aspects of their culture, which are unique in American tradition, October 1973." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/b9a938caa3aa6db1714be3a082c3f419ad67dcf0cdfd93c0cabf357b5ccd1bbf/Booth_PhotoEssay_001q.jpg" /> <img width="3000" height="2038" width_o="3000" height_o="2038" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/d03dd1b39df4667eef10dc099bf1fa0e5c688f25ac927870092d690ee2d5d2d9/Booth_PhotoEssay_001r.jpg" data-mid="85398936" border="0" alt="South Side group of Black children in Chicago at a playground at 40th and Drexel Boulevard. Part of nearly 1.2 million people of their race who make up over one third of the city&rsquo;s population. They comprise several of many faces in this project that portray pride, love, beauty, hope, struggle, joy, hate, frustration, discontent, worship, and faith. In short, portraits of people who feel they are individuals and are proud of their heritage, October 1973." data-caption="South Side group of Black children in Chicago at a playground at 40th and Drexel Boulevard. Part of nearly 1.2 million people of their race who make up over one third of the city’s population. They comprise several of many faces in this project that portray pride, love, beauty, hope, struggle, joy, hate, frustration, discontent, worship, and faith. In short, portraits of people who feel they are individuals and are proud of their heritage, October 1973." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/d03dd1b39df4667eef10dc099bf1fa0e5c688f25ac927870092d690ee2d5d2d9/Booth_PhotoEssay_001r.jpg" /> Steven D. Booth (he/him) is an archivist, researcher, and co-founder of The Blackivists Collective. He has been with the National Archives and Records Administration since 2009 and currently manages the audiovisual collection for the Barack Obama Presidential Library. He is actively involved in the Society of American Archivists (SAA) and recently served on the governing board of the organization. https://losscaptureproject.cargo.site/Back-Down-Memory-Lane-Reflections-with-Arlene-Turner-Crawford Sun, 11 Oct 2020 16:35:56 +0000 Loss/Capture https://losscaptureproject.cargo.site/Back-Down-Memory-Lane-Reflections-with-Arlene-Turner-Crawford <img width="1500" height="1000" width_o="1500" height_o="1000" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/e4d74237b369fe4bbe499b2afd59dd6ea73616abc89a89d6e3e4592005ba7b59/4-ATC-Pass-2.jpg" data-mid="85268877" border="0" alt="Illustration by Kiki Lechuga-Dupont." data-caption="Illustration by Kiki Lechuga-Dupont." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/e4d74237b369fe4bbe499b2afd59dd6ea73616abc89a89d6e3e4592005ba7b59/4-ATC-Pass-2.jpg" /> Back Down Memory Lane:&nbsp;Reflections with Arlene Turner-CrawfordInterview&nbsp;by Stacie Williams Arlene Turner-Crawford (she/her) works in the media of drawing, painting, printmaking and Graphic illustration. In recent years she has curated, led and participated in several public art murals and installation projects including: “Seeds of Our Culture,” a 64th St. Mural Project in collaboration with Rahmaan Statik Barnes in 2017; “Sankofa for the Earth” a Gathering Space in the Burnham Wildlife Corridor for Chicago Park District in 2016 with Dorian Sylvain and Raymond Thomas; “Up from the South,” a mural for the Bronzeville Great Migration curriculum project for NEIU’s Carruthers Center for Inner City Studies in 2012; and the Phoebe Hurst Elementary Mural Project with Kiela Smith (CPA group) in 2009. Her published artworks are included in the books Roads, Where there are No Roads by Angela Jackson, Revise the Psalm – Works Celebrating the Writing of Gwendolyn Brooks; and Contemporary Plays by African American Women edited by Sandra Adell. "To me, art is ritual, an attempt to interpret higher expressions of life. As an image-maker, my work is expressed through both realistic and symbolic forms.&nbsp; This is done in an attempt to inform the viewer of a cultural continuum. My images are created through the manipulation of form, design, color, collage and assemblage.”This interview has been condensed for length and edited for clarity.Stacie Williams: You’ve been a part of Chicago’s Black artistic scene for decades as a mixed media artist, with an editorial perspective informed by Black musical art forms and the AfriCOBRA movement. What are some touchstones of Chicago Black artistic cultural heritage, including places or people, that you think have been lost over time? Arlene Turner-Crawford: Over time, we have lost a number of important people in that cultural arena, like Margaret Burroughs, or Jeff Donaldson, in the arts—people who were my teachers or mentors in one way or another. I got involved as a student back in high school because of Murry DePillars. He was a member of AfriCOBRA who, because of his vast expertise, was dean of the School of the Arts (at Virginia Commonwealth University). He was also one time Vice President at Chicago State (University). I don’t know how many people are familiar with Dr. Murry DePillars, but I want to recognize him as a marvelous art educator and art historian. I say because of these kinds of people, I was indoctrinated or pulled into art. I was curious. I wanted to be an artist; I wanted to be part of it. We’ve lost a lot of our workshops, and theater companies that no longer exist. Chicago theater companies, X-BAG (Experimental Black Actors Guild), we still have Black Ensemble Theater on the West Side, but ETA (Creative Arts Foundation), although it still exists, is struggling. And ETA was started by Abena Joan Brown, she was really one of the major cultural icons in Chicago. These were the places we wanted to be seen in years ago. The Affrro-Arts Theater that Phil Cohran founded and did programming out of and allowed others to come in and program—[that] building doesn’t exist anymore. Back in the day, there was NTU, AFAM Gallery and Cultural Center, it was off East 71st Street; the Black People’s Topographical Center, and then lots of places on East 74th and East 76th Streets. NTU was mainly a club, like the HotHouse, that would have a venue of art or spoken word. Social programming was happening at the NTU, musicians would play there, it also had spoken word or poetry. I graduated from Northern Illinois in 1971. Haki (Madhubuti’s) early bookstore was the first iteration of Transition East. There were not a lot of clubs on the South Side during the late 1960s, early 1970s that played jazz. We had to go downtown or to the North Side and besides the Jazz Showcase, clubs weren’t looking for a lot of Black jazz musicians. We would use AFAM Gallery that I believe Calvin Jones started with Lorenzo Pace for exhibiting local Black art or hearing jazz shows. <img width="1300" height="891" width_o="1300" height_o="891" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/5c61e284fbc2a9401903683c1c1be64ead1aade1cec161cdf0a12fb8efbb8ec8/AAA-AAA_donajeff_62723.jpg" data-mid="85270429" border="0" alt="Image: A black-and-white Postcard [front] for AFRICOBRA: the First Twenty Years at Nexus Contemporary Art Center, Atlanta, GA, 1990. Image shows ten AFRICOBRA members sit in an art studio or gallery. Standing left to right: Adger W. Cowans, Michael D. Harris, Jeff Donaldson, Murray DePillars, and James Phillips. Seated left to right: Napoleon Jones Henderson, Wadsworth Jarrell, Akili Ron Anderson, Frank Smith, and Nelson Stevens. Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution." data-caption="Image: A black-and-white Postcard [front] for AFRICOBRA: the First Twenty Years at Nexus Contemporary Art Center, Atlanta, GA, 1990. Image shows ten AFRICOBRA members sit in an art studio or gallery. Standing left to right: Adger W. Cowans, Michael D. Harris, Jeff Donaldson, Murray DePillars, and James Phillips. Seated left to right: Napoleon Jones Henderson, Wadsworth Jarrell, Akili Ron Anderson, Frank Smith, and Nelson Stevens. Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/5c61e284fbc2a9401903683c1c1be64ead1aade1cec161cdf0a12fb8efbb8ec8/AAA-AAA_donajeff_62723.jpg" /> <img width="1300" height="893" width_o="1300" height_o="893" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/618ddb4ddec521bd91ea689596de9eac600ddd6ffe6b474f701be5a3b14d806e/AAA-AAA_donajeff_62724.jpg" data-mid="85270506" border="0" alt="Image: Postcard [back] for AFRICOBRA: the First Twenty Years at Nexus Contemporary Art Center, Atlanta, GA. Postcard shows printed details of the exhibition, including gallery address, opening reception, curator&rsquo;s talk, special lectures, and the words &ldquo;National Black Arts Festival, 1990.&rdquo; Written by hand is the address of James Phillips ℅ Jeff Donaldson and the note, &ldquo;Jeff--Please pass this on to Mr. Phillips. Isn&rsquo;t he at Howard? [signature illegible]. Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution." data-caption="Image: Postcard [back] for AFRICOBRA: the First Twenty Years at Nexus Contemporary Art Center, Atlanta, GA. Postcard shows printed details of the exhibition, including gallery address, opening reception, curator’s talk, special lectures, and the words “National Black Arts Festival, 1990.” Written by hand is the address of James Phillips ℅ Jeff Donaldson and the note, “Jeff--Please pass this on to Mr. Phillips. Isn’t he at Howard? [signature illegible]. Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/618ddb4ddec521bd91ea689596de9eac600ddd6ffe6b474f701be5a3b14d806e/AAA-AAA_donajeff_62724.jpg" /> SW: Why do you speculate that those touchstones were lost? ATC: The economics of it. The arts usually have a select or closed audience; you have to get the word out so it becomes more economically viable for a place to survive. That’s the reason for places like NTU [to close]. It costs money to bring artists in and maintain the space. Arts might gentrify a community or area, [and] after a while, the rents go up and up as the community begins to transition, then artists can’t afford to be there anymore. One of the other things is that we don’t develop a board of directors for arts organizations. We didn’t train them to raise money or be devoted to the work back in the 1970s, 1980s, or early 1990s. Boards were prestige kinds of things for people and they didn’t focus on the work. Another thing that happens is that when you have the person who built the institution, sometimes those individuals really hesitate to give up power. It was someone’s passion project and they want to see every detail of it, and you have to let some of that control go. In order to maintain, it’s got to be fresh, the work always needs the means to keep living and keep moving. Your mission doesn’t change but methods have to grow and change. Young people have to be strong enough to get their points across to the older heads and then be diplomatic enough to know what there is to learn. Old heads have to commit to training the younger members. I was part of the NCA as a student—it was an organization that Dr. (Margaret) Burroughs founded. As I got older, I became a board member who worked with Youth initiatives, because as a student I got a lot out of NCA. I went to conferences, met artists from all over the country. I met Jacob Lawrence, got to hear Elizabeth Catlett, I worked with EJ Montgomery. What NCA did for me as a student besides attending their conferences, was they’d showcase. Artists would give talks and present research. I loved Dr. Rosalind Jeffries (School of Visual Arts, NYC), a major sister in the art history realm, and everybody respected her. Her art history talks were fascinating. She would talk real fast and have all these pictures and slides, and give you information that you didn’t know existed. <img width="1027" height="1300" width_o="1027" height_o="1300" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/99657a00cbba758e1e305d670a0e9a79d3af4c7320e03869d9b36bcc3ec691e3/AAA-AAA_donajeff_62439.jpg" data-mid="85271082" border="0" alt="Image: A black-and-white portrait of Jeff Donaldson, c. 1970. Donaldson stands close to the camera, looking directly into the lens, wearing large-lens glasses and a light collared shirt. Jeff Donaldson papers, 1918-2005, bulk 1960s-2005. Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution. Photographer: Unknown." data-caption="Image: A black-and-white portrait of Jeff Donaldson, c. 1970. Donaldson stands close to the camera, looking directly into the lens, wearing large-lens glasses and a light collared shirt. Jeff Donaldson papers, 1918-2005, bulk 1960s-2005. Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution. Photographer: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/99657a00cbba758e1e305d670a0e9a79d3af4c7320e03869d9b36bcc3ec691e3/AAA-AAA_donajeff_62439.jpg" /> <img width="1300" height="1065" width_o="1300" height_o="1065" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/a895f1104a327ab335339479f0446566f99481f661ec2e1559e72710527b21a8/AAA-AAA_cahiholg_62572.jpg" data-mid="85271078" border="0" alt="Image: A black-and-white photo of the opening event of the South Side Community Art Center (SSCAC), Chicago, Illinois, 1940. A crowd of people stand at the entrance of SSCAC, with a young girl standing closest to the photographer, looking forward. Holger Cahill papers, 1910 - 1993. Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution. Photographer: Unknown." data-caption="Image: A black-and-white photo of the opening event of the South Side Community Art Center (SSCAC), Chicago, Illinois, 1940. A crowd of people stand at the entrance of SSCAC, with a young girl standing closest to the photographer, looking forward. Holger Cahill papers, 1910 - 1993. Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution. Photographer: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/a895f1104a327ab335339479f0446566f99481f661ec2e1559e72710527b21a8/AAA-AAA_cahiholg_62572.jpg" /> SW: In your 2012 interview with the Never the Same project, you said that "Black art needed to record, identify, and direct." &nbsp;What of Black life have you been documenting through your art during the pandemic and uprisings? ATC: Mainly I’ve been doing mural work with friends or on my own, and really for the last four or five years. One of the things that is occurring is the move to do more community involvement; there’s more contact where artists and community work together. The artists leave, but the community can tell family members about the space. Every time I pass a space that I took my grandkids to paint, they feel good about themselves and that’s empowering and that’s what I’m liking about the projects I’m doing. My whole thing is we’re Black and we’re about our own self-determination. Those opportunities to show people how you can empower themselves are useful. Murals are the medium. Back in the ’60s, people like AfriCOBRA, their drive or passion was to get the community more conscious of art. Murals were a way to share your art with the community. They didn’t have to pay for it. It became a cultural point to focus on or learn or understand. AfriCOBRA’s concept of making affordable art was about that, too. So, they produced posters and prints and sold for $55 on high-level serigraph paper, so it was part of a limited-edition piece of artwork that more people could afford than not, and that’s what I think created a vibrant art and collecting community. Murals are like making sacred places. Back while the Wall of Respect was happening, the community loved it. Gang members protected the space. We artists left paint and materials out every night and nobody messed with it. It became a sacred space. Haki and Margaret, and Gwen Brooks and musicians and spoken word performers and writers started having programming out there. [Murals] can be like stained glass windows in a community—something beautiful, but sacred to that neighborhood that they want to see stay good and neat and pretty. SW: Can you talk about the bridge between the elder generation of Black artists in Chicago, who honed their artistic perspectives in the shadow of the political and social uprisings of the 1960s and ’70s, and the post-Millennial generation of Chicago-based artists capturing Black life now? What are the elements that have allowed those intergenerational connections to flourish or severed those bonds? ATC: One thing I was thinking about with this question is when I was working with the Sutherland Community Arts Initiative and the African American Arts Alliance, we worked to develop a mentoring program to bring in younger people interested in arts management, exhibitions, and being artists. We drew up a comprehensive guide that looked at musicians, tech folks, writers, and one of the biggest problems was that you had to have an audience, a means to get to the kids. We did a cursory outreach through the African American Arts Alliance membership to have them commit to colleges and universities to do outreach. It is important to have events that bring younger people together with older people. They’ll enjoy it, but not see it as an opportunity to do something together. Our brainstorm was to recruit a number of older artists from various Black arts institutions, and then try and stage an event that would invite the youth to come join us and do something. Back then we did a couple of things but we never got a big crowd, maybe two to three students. Two to three, that’s where you start anyway, but you also have to have the venue location. <img width="729" height="1034" width_o="729" height_o="1034" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/b30a73389ca621e004e6dc452d7726974fcfb73ee608a11e10d51f3b8f21b7d3/Elizabeth_Catlett_portrait.jpg" data-mid="85271177" border="0" alt="Image: A close-up black-and-white portrait of artist Elizabeth Catlett, c. 1980-1990. Catlett sits, leaning towards the camera, looking directly in the camera. She has dark hair, is wearing thick framed glasses and a light colored collared shirt. Elizabeth Catlett Collection. Permanent Art Collection, Miami-Dade Public Library System. Photographer: Unknown." data-caption="Image: A close-up black-and-white portrait of artist Elizabeth Catlett, c. 1980-1990. Catlett sits, leaning towards the camera, looking directly in the camera. She has dark hair, is wearing thick framed glasses and a light colored collared shirt. Elizabeth Catlett Collection. Permanent Art Collection, Miami-Dade Public Library System. Photographer: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/729/i/b30a73389ca621e004e6dc452d7726974fcfb73ee608a11e10d51f3b8f21b7d3/Elizabeth_Catlett_portrait.jpg" /> <img width="1300" height="905" width_o="1300" height_o="905" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/33cd0fd6c73e2ef330f5459e4d5438b4c1563698881cea2808a310499495de35/AAA-AAA_donajeff_62705.jpg" data-mid="85271125" border="0" alt="Image: An index card with handwritten text listing contributors to the Wall of Respect, June 28, 1967. Card reads: OBAC Visual Art Workshop, June 28, 1967. Wall of Respect Artists. Painters: Sylvia Abernathy, Jeff Donaldson, Elliot Hunter, Wadsworth Jarrell, Barbara Jones, Carolyn Lawrence, Norman Parrish, William Walker, Myrna Weaver; Photographers: Billy Abernathy, Edward Christmas, Darrell Cowherd, Roy Lewis, Robert Sengstacke, Oniqua Bill Wallace; Kathryne Akin, Lenore Franklin, Clarence Jacobs. Wall painted 8/11/67 - 8/28/67. 43rd &amp; S. Langley, Chicago. Jeff Donaldson papers, 1918-2005. Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution." data-caption="Image: An index card with handwritten text listing contributors to the Wall of Respect, June 28, 1967. Card reads: OBAC Visual Art Workshop, June 28, 1967. Wall of Respect Artists. Painters: Sylvia Abernathy, Jeff Donaldson, Elliot Hunter, Wadsworth Jarrell, Barbara Jones, Carolyn Lawrence, Norman Parrish, William Walker, Myrna Weaver; Photographers: Billy Abernathy, Edward Christmas, Darrell Cowherd, Roy Lewis, Robert Sengstacke, Oniqua Bill Wallace; Kathryne Akin, Lenore Franklin, Clarence Jacobs. Wall painted 8/11/67 - 8/28/67. 43rd &amp; S. Langley, Chicago. Jeff Donaldson papers, 1918-2005. Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/33cd0fd6c73e2ef330f5459e4d5438b4c1563698881cea2808a310499495de35/AAA-AAA_donajeff_62705.jpg" /> <img width="184" height="255" width_o="184" height_o="255" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/e9db28f6ff740cf82aa25d73e2d4ca7b2ea222e2c5e87cd161179727c6810eca/Margaret_Taylor-Burroughs.jpg" data-mid="85272384" border="0" alt="Image: A color portrait of Dr. Margaret T. Burroughs who is looking directly into the camera while wearing a colorful, patterned top, rose copper earrings, and a black beret, date unknown. Wikimedia. Photographer: Unknown." data-caption="Image: A color portrait of Dr. Margaret T. Burroughs who is looking directly into the camera while wearing a colorful, patterned top, rose copper earrings, and a black beret, date unknown. Wikimedia. Photographer: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/184/i/e9db28f6ff740cf82aa25d73e2d4ca7b2ea222e2c5e87cd161179727c6810eca/Margaret_Taylor-Burroughs.jpg" /> <img width="600" height="409" width_o="600" height_o="409" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/719873a520556080fba7e35e11b93b88747f8b30b87d1812388520ada2708621/15-0659a.gif" data-mid="85270752" border="0" alt="Image: A color photograph of a deteriorated wall mural adjacent to a vacant lot on 35th Street on the South Side of Chicago, 1973. The image shows a lot of flowers in front of a colorful mural, a person walking by at the left of the frame. National Archives and Records Administration. Photographer: John H. White." data-caption="Image: A color photograph of a deteriorated wall mural adjacent to a vacant lot on 35th Street on the South Side of Chicago, 1973. The image shows a lot of flowers in front of a colorful mural, a person walking by at the left of the frame. National Archives and Records Administration. Photographer: John H. White." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/600/i/719873a520556080fba7e35e11b93b88747f8b30b87d1812388520ada2708621/15-0659a.gif" /> <img width="993" height="705" width_o="993" height_o="705" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/b7ee264d7ea63d8a6d59afae3d973401c9be390044bdc302d5942ed5a2b9ab1b/Gwendolyn_Brooks_and_five_others.jpg" data-mid="85271181" border="0" alt="Image: A black-and-white photograph of Darlene Roy, Eugene Redmond, Gwendolyn Brooks, Haki Madhubuti, Shirley LeFlore, and Sherman Fowler standing in front of a table, posing and smiling for the photographer. Gwendolyn Brooks holds a bouquet of flowers, date unknown. Eugene B. Redmond Collection of African American Cultural Life, Southern Illinois University Edwardsville. Photographer: Unknown." data-caption="Image: A black-and-white photograph of Darlene Roy, Eugene Redmond, Gwendolyn Brooks, Haki Madhubuti, Shirley LeFlore, and Sherman Fowler standing in front of a table, posing and smiling for the photographer. Gwendolyn Brooks holds a bouquet of flowers, date unknown. Eugene B. Redmond Collection of African American Cultural Life, Southern Illinois University Edwardsville. Photographer: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/993/i/b7ee264d7ea63d8a6d59afae3d973401c9be390044bdc302d5942ed5a2b9ab1b/Gwendolyn_Brooks_and_five_others.jpg" /> SW: The Sapphire and Crystals collective—of which you are an original member—carved out a necessary space for Black women artists in Chicago to share their artistic POV and produce their own shows. I imagine the institutional memory you all hold about this city and how you share and weave those narratives into your work could launch 1,000 shows. What are the narratives about Black people and Black women especially that you want to see endure over time? ATC: Sapphire and Crystals is between 30 and 35 years old. Marva Jolly and Felicia Grant Preston were in a group together called Mud Peoples, where Marva worked with artists who worked with clay. They had a discussion one day about the plight of women artists and came up with the idea to bring women together to discuss what’s happening with them and not getting exhibitions. It’s hard for women artists to be seen seriously, back in the 1960s and ’70s, let alone get exhibitions, let alone be a Black woman. That was their goal. We discussed that we wanted to start being proactive about getting our art out instead of waiting to be invited to be part of a show. Just being one little cog, and that’s how we started. In that one afternoon, we shaped our goals. We said we wanted to invite women to join us, create exhibitions, and create catalogs that women could take to other spaces to market our work. We wanted kujichagulia—self-determination about our art. And then we’d aggressively look for venues that would show women’s exhibitions. We wanted to not have our exhibitions in February because everyone looks for that kind of work in February. We did September or October—Marva’s birthday was October. We’d have artists’ statements and have our people proofread our writing. We all tried to take [on] different tasks. We said we’d put a little money in the till from each of us to cover the cost of printing the catalog and sell that catalog at each event to be seed money for the next. We instituted a silent auction which hopefully would encourage people to collect our work.&nbsp; Keeping the opening bids to $150. That’s how it developed for the first 10 years, we had a show every year. White women at the same time were asserting themselves in the same way so we found galleries on the North Side, like Artemisia, ARC, and Women Made Gallery. These helped encourage us. Some of our artists would work in universities, so we’d called upon them to see if we could get shows on campuses, like at Illinois Wesleyan, Northeastern University, or the Illinois Arts Center. As we grew in reputation, we could be relied upon to consistently put up a good show and venues were happy to have us. We had good editorial control and good curatorial control. That was how we got started. Then we started thinking about installations in our shows. We’d lost members from death and wanted to honor them. In recent history, there’s always been an in memoriam installation, with a silent auction or something in line with the exhibition theme, and then an installation where we would make an altar for our sisters who had passed away. Then we also try to aggressively recruit younger artists we know and invite them to participate. <img width="1599" height="1060" width_o="1599" height_o="1060" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/db77edf0b1567762bf285ddf16ffddea49ea1c31e66478e8ae90f9c748b51d66/st10003432_0029_resized.jpg" data-mid="85272445" border="0" alt="Image: A meeting at the Afro-Arts Theater, 1968. The theater was founded by Kelan Philip Cohran in 1967 and was located at East 39th Street and South Drexel Boulevard, Chicago, IL. In the photo, a person sits close to the photographer, profile view, looking at others in the meeting, some who can be seen seated in front of a wall of portraits and a sign reading &ldquo;Affro-Arts Theater.&rdquo; Chicago Sun-Times Collection, Chicago History Museum. Photographer: Unknown." data-caption="Image: A meeting at the Afro-Arts Theater, 1968. The theater was founded by Kelan Philip Cohran in 1967 and was located at East 39th Street and South Drexel Boulevard, Chicago, IL. In the photo, a person sits close to the photographer, profile view, looking at others in the meeting, some who can be seen seated in front of a wall of portraits and a sign reading “Affro-Arts Theater.” Chicago Sun-Times Collection, Chicago History Museum. Photographer: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/db77edf0b1567762bf285ddf16ffddea49ea1c31e66478e8ae90f9c748b51d66/st10003432_0029_resized.jpg" /> Parenting and other jobs definitely made things challenging for some of our members. In some cases, the work wasn’t what we needed it to be, because we were trying to make certain that we had a certain level of professionalism. The work had to come in ready to be hung. Presentation is part of the art, not just the subject matter. It needs to look well together, as well as being well-done and a certain technical proficiency should be shown. People had to hold down other jobs, or couldn’t meet deadlines for grants or submissions because of your other life. That happens a lot to women. We discussed that early on. Very few of us are full-time artists. Most of us are supporting families. I’m a night person, that’s when I would work. When I was older, I got a studio a few nights a week and would work there. What new are we thinking about with the art? We thought about how mothers have to survive with mother-wit. I think nowadays, we need to have some survival techniques. We have to have ways to get through things. I’m thinking about young women who are at times not able to see their own potential or recognize how to get through bad relationships, struggles with jobs, self-worth, and these are things that I’d like to see addressed for women, as well as for our community. We need reparations for our cultural institutions and identifying just how we can build endowments to take our institutions into perpetuity. The reason many of our institutions have failed or are struggling is that we just get little bits of money. For example, there could be a $1 million pot, but everyone’s getting $5,000 or $10,000. The Museum of Science and Industry or the Art Institute get $250,000 and that’s the norm. Smaller institutions are competing with each other and major institutions get a lion’s share of money off the top. The whole idea of equity—does this country have this kind of mindset that could do away with privilege? But that’s what needs to be the solution. That you create a means for more people to create equitable lives. Whether you do that because of reparations or you just break down your privileged ways of doing things. Racism needs to be gone. When you have the Symphony and Art Institute and major museums getting millions and already have endowments and Muntu has to raise $2 million every year just to meet payroll, and they didn’t have a building or were unable to house, that’s not equitable. SW: We’ve focused on loss. But what are existing Chicago spaces that have inspired you in the past, or now, to create? ATC: The Quarry in South Shore. The art centers, and some places and spaces in Bronzeville. I ride my bike a lot. When the Jazz Festival was downtown, I would ride my bike down to Millennium Park and bring a little sketchbook. I’ll take pictures of musicians while they’re performing. Instead of getting on a trolley, I’ll ride my bike to different venues, if they have something at Rockefeller Chapel or something in the Midway and just lay out in the sun. Or going to hear some music to be inspired and encouraged. Artists are in our heads a lot. I’m not at all inspired by the Trump administration. I think art needs to be transformative. I don’t want to take up an idea that’s grounded in a negative space. I want to put out a positive idea to be transformative against all the negative stuff we see. I did a couple of pieces on the sisters kidnapped by Boko Haram, because I wanted to try and shine a light on that. Or I think about Candace Hunter, she’s brilliant in terms of coming up with these wonderful installations or series, like the “Hooded Truth” series, or “Women in Water” works, where she’s shining a light on the fact that women all over the world have to carry water, and maintain their rights to, and what’s going on with that. Those kinds of things inspire me. Seeing my colleagues doing projects, working with other people on the murals. That’s what feeds me. And doing collaborations or participating in things that are valuable for people to think about.&nbsp;︎ <img width="1024" height="680" width_o="1024" height_o="680" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/6a5017ee405cf1d875aff373770b499a08d93b0238c4d410fa04451cac269eea/Sapphire-and-Crystals-in-black-and-white-group-photo_Joyce-Owens-curator_Ferguson-Gallery-at-Concordia-College-e1545140082767.jpg" data-mid="85272385" border="0" alt="Image: A group photo of Sapphire &amp; Crystals members from the exhibition Sapphire &amp; Crystals in Black and White, a show curated by Joyce Owens Anderson at the Ferguson Gallery at Concordia College, 2004. A group of 10 members stand, with two kneeling, posing for the camera, with a sculpture on the wall behind them. Photo courtesy of Joyce Owens Anderson. Photographer: Unknown." data-caption="Image: A group photo of Sapphire &amp; Crystals members from the exhibition Sapphire &amp; Crystals in Black and White, a show curated by Joyce Owens Anderson at the Ferguson Gallery at Concordia College, 2004. A group of 10 members stand, with two kneeling, posing for the camera, with a sculpture on the wall behind them. Photo courtesy of Joyce Owens Anderson. Photographer: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/6a5017ee405cf1d875aff373770b499a08d93b0238c4d410fa04451cac269eea/Sapphire-and-Crystals-in-black-and-white-group-photo_Joyce-Owens-curator_Ferguson-Gallery-at-Concordia-College-e1545140082767.jpg" /> Stacie Williams (she/her) is director of the Center for Digital Scholarship at the University of Chicago Libraries, and a member of the Chicago-based Blackivist archivist collective, which works with individuals and organizations to preserve Black Chicagoland memory and culture. Her work is centered on sustainability of digital and web-based knowledge sources and equitable labor practices in cultural heritage professions. Williams was previously an advisory archivist for A People’s Archive of Police Violence in Cleveland, a 2015 oral history project that documented people’s experiences with police violence and harassment in the Cleveland metropolitan area, and a former journalist for more than 10 years. Her first book, Bizarro Worlds (Fiction Advocate), a bibliomemoir about race and gentrification, was released in 2018. https://losscaptureproject.cargo.site/Don-t-It-Always-Seem-to-Go-On-the-Loss-and-Capture-of-Black-re Fri, 09 Oct 2020 14:20:05 +0000 Loss/Capture https://losscaptureproject.cargo.site/Don-t-It-Always-Seem-to-Go-On-the-Loss-and-Capture-of-Black-re <img width="1500" height="1000" width_o="1500" height_o="1000" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/c78bff5ac3f09497e35a6069b003e166beed8f6e01655c1aadaafa98371074cb/1-TH-Pass-2.jpg" data-mid="85116522" border="0" alt="Illustration by Kiki Lechuga-Dupont." data-caption="Illustration by Kiki Lechuga-Dupont." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/c78bff5ac3f09497e35a6069b003e166beed8f6e01655c1aadaafa98371074cb/1-TH-Pass-2.jpg" /> Don’t It Always Seem to Go: On the Loss and Capture of Black (re)Collections Essay by Tempestt Hazel “There used to be a house here...and [my] dad bought the house next door to put my grandparents in–my mom’s and my dad’s parents,” Mom explained while standing at the edge of two empty, grassy lots in the middle of a block on the south end of my hometown, Peoria, Illinois. “And [your uncle] Arthur used to live there,” she continued, pointing to another empty lot across the street. As she said this, I added three houses to my growing mental list of homes that were once owned and occupied by members of my family. So far, the list totaled six that spread across Peoria, Chicago, and also parts of Tennessee where my sister recently found out, through some rediscovered family records, that her maternal grandparents once owned a home and land. My mother had no idea that the three homes had been torn down and it’s not clear what happened to them in the decades between now and when her parents left the homes &nbsp;and after she and all of her siblings moved out. While standing in the middle of the lots, I tried to soak up all of the people, personal landmarks, and the sparks from her million memories that made it to the front of her mind. I attempted to visualize, from her descriptions, what Smith Street looked like for Mom in the 50s and 60s: “There were hedges right there, we would play volleyball over them.” “[Dad kept] the dogs, the chickens, and the garden over here.” “The garage used to be here with the two refrigerator-freezers in them—one for the fish, and one for the other meat that dad hunted and processed.” “We had so much fun here…” Watching my mother remake her home through fragmented recollections in a now vacant space felt like a familiar practice for those of us who, like my family, have stories with many fractures and points where the details begin to disappear. There are often abrupt stops and gaps in family and community lineages because those stories weren’t always documented or easily circulated. Those stories, objects, and records are also sometimes tangled in precariousness due to a combination of difficult circumstances. Elders who construct memory bridges and provide the details that fill the fissures of photographs and records sometimes pass away before that knowledge is captured. Or, family and community histories succumb to conflicting stories and mystery around what happened to the keepsakes that were in long-cleared closets, basements, or storage trunks, and were lost over time during family migratons and formal or ad hoc estate transitions.&nbsp;Talking with my mother about her history was also a potent reminder of who and what the original repositories of Black legacies are: the people through which histories and traditions are housed and carried forward, and the private or community spaces where collections were intentionally or naturally accumulated. These repositories, including the now institutionally-housed ones that still endure today, often feel like nothing short of miracles when remembering that they exist within a country that has consistently prevented and actively resisted the formation, maintenance, and accessibility of autonomous and thriving Black histories and spaces. Despite everything working to convince us otherwise, these collections still stand as evidence that an unquantifiable and, in some cases, unrecoverable Black cultural richness exists and that Black people have always been aware of the need to document and carry on our stories ourselves. And through tireless and relatively quiet maneuvers, these repositories and people have withstood within a country whose founders saw the erasure of Black and Indigenous culture, language, and history as something as critical to the making of the United States as creating an exclusive, distorted, and self-serving version of freedom and democracy. What we are fortunate enough to know now, which counters any claim that we have no significant history, and what some from past generations didn’t have readily available, is the research and evidence that addresses gaps in Black history, and a deeper understanding around approaches to preservation that were inherent to our ancestors. As Dorothy Porter Wesley described back in 1957, the “anthropologists, linguists, and historians have gone far to correct this ignorant opinion [and] have proved that many African people of high culture have possessed an historical sense, and further, that their trained memories and prodigious fund of legend have served as the actual conservators of their history.”1 She goes on to reference Maurice Delafosse’s use of the term “living books” when talking about Africa’s earliest libraries that were, in fact, people: court historians, artists, storytellers, poets, musicians, and others who carried the responsibility of being “walking encyclopedias” and passing on tribal stories, proverbs, mythologies, genealogies, beliefs, and root traditions. It is a form of history-keeping that is still practiced today. Alongside these history-making traditions, many of the collections used to anchor and establish the Black research institutions that are beloved today can be traced back to individuals who also knew the importance of collecting and preserving Black histories and memories and who took it upon themselves to make sure these collections were complex, nuanced, thorough, and placed in good hands. Dorothy Porter Wesley was one of those individuals. A foremother of decolonizing libraries and their classification systems as well as a defining force in the valuation of library materials authored by Black people, Porter was one of the main librarians and curators responsible for developing the collections that would help to establish the Moorland-Spingarn Research Center at Howard University in 1973. Starting with the private collections and libraries of Jesse E. Moorland and Arthur B. Spingarn, the center’s holdings were established on abolitionist texts, narratives of enslaved peoples, and the global Black experience and diaspora. Then, there was Arturo Alfonso Schomburg, an Afro-Puerto Rican activist, historian, and curator who built an unbelievable personal collection that would eventually become the heart of the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture. According to biographer Elinor Sinnette, Schomburg started collecting as a reaction to his fifth grade teacher who told him that “[B]lack people had no history, no heroes, no great moments.” And as the story is told, in 1926 his wife urged him to sell his collection to the Carnegie Corporation–who then donated it to the New York Public Library–because the 5,000 books, 3,000 manuscripts, 2,000 etchings and paintings, and thousands of pamphlets that Schomburg had accumulated over the years started to take over his home. Six years after the collection was used to establish the New York Public Library’s Division of Negro Literature, History and Prints, Schomburg was brought on as curator of the division and was able to continue building and expanding his collection. <img width="1418" height="1152" width_o="1418" height_o="1152" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/fe4f9368c0361f2d0500e0343cf903d5a140aabfdf8d8054e3e763405d3b2fee/2_DPW_HowardU_resized.jpg" data-mid="85274350" border="0" alt="Image: Photograph of Dorothy Porter Wesley instructing Howard University manuscript staff: Thomas Battle, Evelyn Brooks-Barnett and Denise Glelin, July 1974. Beinecke Library, Box 101, Folder: 1974 D.P. M. F. Photographer: Unknown." data-caption="Image: Photograph of Dorothy Porter Wesley instructing Howard University manuscript staff: Thomas Battle, Evelyn Brooks-Barnett and Denise Glelin, July 1974. Beinecke Library, Box 101, Folder: 1974 D.P. M. F. Photographer: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/fe4f9368c0361f2d0500e0343cf903d5a140aabfdf8d8054e3e763405d3b2fee/2_DPW_HowardU_resized.jpg" /> <img width="2803" height="2136" width_o="2803" height_o="2136" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/3266272a3a19cbe5c76f70c47bba9a93be730baa5c848bb2b69582da486559c7/3_VivianHarsh_CharlemaeRollins_AtHallBranch_ChicagoPublicLibrary.jpg" data-mid="85274353" border="0" alt="Image: Women's reading group at Hall Branch, 1940. In this photograph, Vivian Harsh, the first African American branch head of the Chicago Public Library, is at the back on the left, children's literature writer, librarian, and advocate, Charlemae Hill Rollins, is at the back on the right They are standing behind a table where 26 other people are sitting, books and papers in front of them, most looking at the camera. Hall Branch Archives. Photographer: Unknown. " data-caption="Image: Women's reading group at Hall Branch, 1940. In this photograph, Vivian Harsh, the first African American branch head of the Chicago Public Library, is at the back on the left, children's literature writer, librarian, and advocate, Charlemae Hill Rollins, is at the back on the right They are standing behind a table where 26 other people are sitting, books and papers in front of them, most looking at the camera. Hall Branch Archives. Photographer: Unknown. " src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/3266272a3a19cbe5c76f70c47bba9a93be730baa5c848bb2b69582da486559c7/3_VivianHarsh_CharlemaeRollins_AtHallBranch_ChicagoPublicLibrary.jpg" /> And there’s Chicago’s own Vivian G. Harsh, who was a librarian and collector, whose name you will usually see followed by a list of firsts. She is considered Chicago’s first Black librarian. In 1932, she also became the first librarian to take the helm of the George Cleveland Hall Branch of the Chicago Public Library in Bronzeville, which was the first public library branch in the city to be built in a Black neighborhood. She is the namesake of the Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection at the Carter G. Woodson Regional Library, which is the largest Black history and literature collection of its kind in the Midwest. Originally named the Special Negro Collection and housed at the Hall Branch, its earliest items came into the collection in 1929 with 100 books and monographs from the private library of Charles Bentley, a dentist and founding member of the NAACP. With the help of Harsh’s colleagues and fellow librarians Marian G. Hadley and Charlemae Hill Rollins, and despite a lack of adequate funding to do so, she began building the collection by traveling across the country searching for first editions and by creating an environment at the library that attracted countless prominent writers of the time, including Zora Neale Hurston and Gwendolyn Brooks as well as Langston Hughes and Richard Wright, who both have manuscripts and materials in the collection. In Chicago, there is also a legacy of collectors who built their repositories independent of any established institution and decided to make them directly accessible in various ways to their communities and the wider public. I think of Dr. Margaret T. Burroughs, an educator, poet, artist, and activist who helped found the Ebony Museum of Negro History and Culture in her and her husband’s living room in 1961. The Ebony Museum would later be renamed the DuSable Museum of African American History and be moved to a larger location in Washington Park because the collection, which is made up in large part by the Burroughs’ personal holdings and those of other collectors, outgrew their home. The DuSable Museum’s archives now, too, include countless boxes of Dr. Burroughs’ papers, records, and scrapbooks.&nbsp; <img width="627" height="638" width_o="627" height_o="638" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/b85d8afa45d779ba189352f3aab9c3479e3894a6cdea99d2949b6f3213234b23/4_DuSableMuseum_OnMichiganAvenue_BlackCultureDirectory1969.jpg" data-mid="85275216" border="0" alt="Image: A crowd of people walking up the stairs and into the front door of the Michigan Avenue location of the DuSable Museum of African American History, circa 1969. Black Chicago Directory, 1969. Carol Adams Collection. Photographer: Unknown." data-caption="Image: A crowd of people walking up the stairs and into the front door of the Michigan Avenue location of the DuSable Museum of African American History, circa 1969. Black Chicago Directory, 1969. Carol Adams Collection. Photographer: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/627/i/b85d8afa45d779ba189352f3aab9c3479e3894a6cdea99d2949b6f3213234b23/4_DuSableMuseum_OnMichiganAvenue_BlackCultureDirectory1969.jpg" /> Or I think of Daniel Texidor Parker, a professor, author, and former student of Dr. Burroughs during her time teaching at DuSable High School, who was inspired by his mother and Dr. Burroughs to start collecting. His collection includes over 450 original works by Black artists in Chicago and of the wider diaspora. He is a co-founder of the Black collectors group Diasporal Rhythms with Patric McCoy, an avid bicyclist, photographer, former environmental scientist, and collector with over 1,300 artworks hanging in his home and even more photographs and pieces of ephemera documenting Black life and culture stored away. With an unwavering determination to maintain the integrity of his collection and keep it intact after he transitions, McCoy and others are dreaming of a plan to make the building where he lives into a home museum and art center. For years Parker and McCoy, along with other members of Diasporal Rhythms, have opened their homes to students and tour groups in order to show what it looks like to build a Black collection that is global in scope, local in emphasis, and personal through-and-through, one relatively affordable piece at a time. But for each story of gains, there is a comparable story of loss and uncertainty. As any archivist will tell you, it takes a mighty amount of time, physical space, people-power, knowledge, and resources to organize, care for, and maintain any collection, whether for an institution, a family, or a community. That, combined with an overall lack of Black museums, libraries, and repositories that have the capacity to take in and adequately house these materials while making them accessible locally, regionally, digitally, or otherwise, leaves many archives and potential seeds of archives battling depreciation, neglect, and inaccessibility. They are the casualties of circumstance and limited options. Many people who have or inherit these materials don’t know what they have and have no clear or easy way of finding out. Many of the ideal repositories for these materials don’t have adequate resources to build the infrastructure needed to take them in, catalog them, and make them available. Then, the people with decision-making power around acquisitions within institutions—especially predominantly white institutions—are still (in a post-Dorothy Porter Wesley world) limited in their understanding and valuing of Black culture and heritage, or have strong opinions around what qualifies as preservation-worthy Black culture, which impacts their curatorial choices. There are several significant examples of institutions, including Black-led and local institutions, that are missing opportunities to work collaboratively and creatively to explicitly express through acquisition any beliefs they have in this history’s value to Chicago and its residents. And sometimes when the value of these materials is acknowledged, those collections often go for embarrassingly less than they are worth to the highest bidder, which means definitive Chicago collections are sometimes relocated to other parts of the state or country and detached from their essential geographical context. Also, private motivations and moves such as real estate gains, urban renewal, displacement, or public sector shortfalls lead to the erasure or capitalization of culture. <img width="1800" height="875" width_o="1800" height_o="875" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/4084b531796b85137c3dcc5f63d6491f56d88b843cd2e49e0a9c60c3b1663f61/4_PatricMcCoy_Left_InHisHome_BronzevilleChicago_resized.jpg" data-mid="85275217" border="0" alt="Image: Patric McCoy (left) standing with a friend in his home on the South Side of Chicago, 2019. Behind him and the other person in the photo, there is art on the walls from floor to ceiling. Photographer: Tempestt Hazel." data-caption="Image: Patric McCoy (left) standing with a friend in his home on the South Side of Chicago, 2019. Behind him and the other person in the photo, there is art on the walls from floor to ceiling. Photographer: Tempestt Hazel." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/4084b531796b85137c3dcc5f63d6491f56d88b843cd2e49e0a9c60c3b1663f61/4_PatricMcCoy_Left_InHisHome_BronzevilleChicago_resized.jpg" /> <img width="2048" height="1367" width_o="2048" height_o="1367" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/ad2c9e69cd49779476e7a22d9c5793ac0c2f0bfb0379952678730486e0dbc251/5_PatricMcCoyHome_BronzevilleChicago.jpg" data-mid="85275966" border="0" alt="Image: A room in Patric McCoy&rsquo;s home on the South Side of Chicago, 2019. It is a corner view of the room and there is art of various sizes on the walls from floor to ceiling. Photographer: Tempestt Hazel. " data-caption="Image: A room in Patric McCoy’s home on the South Side of Chicago, 2019. It is a corner view of the room and there is art of various sizes on the walls from floor to ceiling. Photographer: Tempestt Hazel. " src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/ad2c9e69cd49779476e7a22d9c5793ac0c2f0bfb0379952678730486e0dbc251/5_PatricMcCoyHome_BronzevilleChicago.jpg" /> It is for these reasons and a host of others that we have to go to Urbana-Champaign to explore Gwendolyn Brooks’ archives, or to Brooklyn to see a significant body of work by AfriCOBRA. It is why we can no longer marvel at William “Bill” Walker’s All of Mankind mural at the Stranger’s Home Missionary Baptist Church near where Cabrini-Green once stood. It is why a collective rage bubbled up when we heard that works by Kerry James Marshall that were housed in public and neighborhood spaces were ending up in auctions at Christie’s and Sotheby’s. It is why there continues to be collective concern around lack of transparency when expert staff was suddenly laid off at the Center for Black Music Research. It is why the John H. Johnson Publishing Company archives, research library, and original building are scattered across an unwieldy list of owners and entities. It is why the work to piece our history together and to relocate the stories is never-ending. Each of these accounts provoke questions of how, why, and under what circumstances are Black collections made, unmade, institutionalized, kept, moved, or lost. Increased instances of loss and heartbreak over the past several years–and what often reads as a lack of concern, accountability, transparency and creative thinking around Chicago’s Black collections–made me wonder what it would look like to place these losses side-by-side and to see some visible representation of the culture that is being discreetly erased, destabilized, and pulled in different directions. But I didn’t want to exclusively focus on the losses when acknowledgement and respect must be paid to the archivists, librarians, collectors, donors, and neighborhood scholars who never questioned the value of Black cultural production and the urgency of its preservation, and have stewarded the physical and digital manifestations of our cultural breadth. So, I created a list called A Timeline of Loss and Capture for Chicago’s Black Artworks and Collections. Organized chronologically and in no way comprehensive, the list includes archives, papers, significant artworks, iconic symbols, and collections that are housed and held in Chicago and relevant to a convergence of topics that anchor my work at the various intersections of art, culture, media, and advocacy, with an emphasis on Black communities. Its purpose is to first and foremost be a resource and a testament to what Chicago has and what we risk losing if we aren’t relentless and tenacious. It is also to create a space that allows more people to draw direct connections between what is called for in the Movement for Black Lives and the international efforts to preserve the relics, affirmations, and seeds of Black life over time–because they are inextricably linked and are in constant and urgent need of watering. And at a time of multiple crises when public dollars are limited and stretched, this list is an offering to help put into perspective and not lose sight of the critical role that Chicago Public Library,2 and libraries in general, play as safeguards, shapers, and accessible treasure-troves of history. This list is for the curious who want to start conversations about what collections, preservation, and access looks like during our current high point of radical Black dreaming and reimagining. It's for those who want to see what we have so that we can envision new and evolved systems that lend themselves to longevity and a more complete story. It’s for those who are dreaming up spaces where we can continue to initiate and have conversations about the arenas of restorative and decolonized knowledge-creation for the kind of future that we are fighting for. ︎ 1&nbsp;Quote taken from the speech “Of Men and Records in the History of the Negro” by Dorothy Porter Wesley, presented at Morgan State College, February 13, 1957, in celebration of Negro History Week. 2 Libraries, specifically the Chicago Artist Files at the Harold Washington Library, are the reason why Sixty Inches From Center began its long relationship with archives. Although it’s unbalanced in its representation of Chicago’s Black artists, an imbalance Sixty is committed to lessening, the library’s artist files are openly accessible, crowdsourced, and curated by the public. Tempestt Hazel (she/her) is a curator, writer, and co-founder of Sixty Inches From Center, a Chicago-based arts publication and archiving initiative that has promoted and preserved the practices of BIPOC and LGBTQIA+ artists and artists with disabilities across the Midwest since 2010. Her curatorial work and work with Sixty was recently recognized with a J. Franklin Jameson Archival Advocacy Award from the Society of American Archivists (SAA). She is also the Arts Program Officer at the Field Foundation. Tempestt was born and raised in Peoria, Illinois, spent several years in the California Bay Area, and has called Chicago her second home for over 12 years. https://losscaptureproject.cargo.site/A-Timeline-of-Loss-and-Capture-for-Chicago-s-Black-Collections-and Sun, 11 Oct 2020 18:14:06 +0000 Loss/Capture https://losscaptureproject.cargo.site/A-Timeline-of-Loss-and-Capture-for-Chicago-s-Black-Collections-and <img width="1700" height="1135" width_o="1700" height_o="1135" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/f4175fcdcd3d797b6a1ab51609c93ca42ecfe9383ecfc1d60475bc135e92e9bb/Lead-Image-A-Timeline-of-Loss-and-Capture-for-Chicagos-Black-Collections-and-Artworks_resized.jpg" data-mid="85277879" border="0" alt="A photo of a couple dozen framed historic portraits hanging salon-style on a wall behind a display case of materials at the Bronzeville Visitor Information Center at 411 E 35th Street. Photo courtesy of Tempestt Hazel, 2011." data-caption="A photo of a couple dozen framed historic portraits hanging salon-style on a wall behind a display case of materials at the Bronzeville Visitor Information Center at 411 E 35th Street. Photo courtesy of Tempestt Hazel, 2011." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/f4175fcdcd3d797b6a1ab51609c93ca42ecfe9383ecfc1d60475bc135e92e9bb/Lead-Image-A-Timeline-of-Loss-and-Capture-for-Chicagos-Black-Collections-and-Artworks_resized.jpg" /> A Timeline of Loss and Capture for Chicago’s Black Collections and Artworks Published as a companion piece to the essay Don’t It Always Seem To Go: On the Loss and Capture of Black (re)Collections, this is a list of cultural collections, papers, and artworks that speak to the history and heritage of Black Chicago. It is organized in chronological order according to the date when the materials were donated, purchased, or acquired by the institution, or when the collection, artwork, or building was established, created, or built. Organizing them chronologically reveals things like periods when Chicago institutions were increasing and decreasing their acquisitions of Black archival materials and when significant moments of Black cultural production was happening. It also highlights moments of loss of Black Chicago culture, collections, and artworks throughout history as a way to show the vulnerability of our stories and the quiet and booming erasures and dislocations that take place over time. Entries with an asterisk (*) next to them mean that those materials were donated by the person or family of the person who the materials are of and about. In brackets and when relevant, you will find my working notes that hint toward what can be found in that collection and some of the topics its contents are speaking to. You will also see notes of collections that are partially processed or unprocessed, meaning their accessibility might be limited depending on the holder’s policies around access to unprocessed materials. The losses are indicated with bold and italics. Jump to: 1940-1979&nbsp; / &nbsp;1980-1989&nbsp; /&nbsp; 1990-1999&nbsp; /&nbsp; 2000-2004&nbsp; /&nbsp; 2005-2009&nbsp; /&nbsp; 2010-2020&nbsp; /&nbsp; Date Unknown 1940 – 1979 1940Archives of the South Side Community Art Center, 1938 – 2008 [visual art, culture]1942Chicago Afro-American Analytic Union Catalog Archives [WPA, libraries]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection1942Langston Hughes Papers [literature, memoir]*Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection1942Illinois Writers Project: “Negro in Illinois” Papers [literature]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1962Wabash YMCA CollectionUniversity of Illinois at Chicago Library1967The Wall of Respect is painted by the Organization of Black American Culture (OBAC)43rd Street and Langley Avenue 1968Black History CollectionUniversity of Illinois at Chicago Library1971Johnson Publishing Company Building, designed by John Warren Moutoussamy820 S. Michigan Avenue1971 The Wall of Respect is destroyed after a fire damages the building at 43rd Street and Langley Avenue. 1973All of Mankind mural painted by William “Bill” Walker on the Stranger’s Home Missionary Baptist Church at 617 West Evergreen Avenue. 1973Motley Family Photograph Collection, 1880 – 1949* [photography, visual art]Chicago History Museum 1973Claude A. Barnett Papers* [publishing]Chicago History Museum 1974Juanita Hall Papers [theater, music]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1974Chicago State College Oral History Research Program 1937 – 1974Chicago State University Archives and Special Collections1976Chicago Jazz Archive [music]University of Chicago Library 1978Philip David Dang Collection [on abolition]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1979Wally Amos Papers [culinary, acting, writing]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research CollectionBack to top 1980 – 1989 1980Claude A. Barnett Broadsides Collection, c. 1930 – 1959* [events, advertising]Chicago History Museum 1980Charlemae Hill Rollins Papers [libraries, literature; partially processed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1981Chicago Blues Archives [music, radio]Chicago Public Library, Harold Washington Library Center 1981Scotty Piper Photograph Collection, c. 1920 – 1969 [photography, music]Chicago History Museum1981Ruth Montrose Papers [social work, women, music, theater; partially processed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1981/1990sBen Burns Papers [publishing, journalism, JPC]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1982Publicity Photographs of Gospel Singers, c. 1950s*[music, photography]Chicago History Museum 1982Willa Saunders Jones Papers [theater]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1982Salsedo Press Poster Collection, c. 1970 – 1970* [print, design]Chicago History Museum 1983Jack L Cooper Photograph Collection, 1950 – 1970* [radio]Chicago History Museum 1983Center for Black Music Research, established by Dr. Samuel A. Floyd, Jr. [music]Columbia College Chicago 1983Horace R. Cayton Papers [sociology]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1983, 1989Joseph W. Rollins, Sr. and Charlemae Rollins Collection, 1897-1989DuSable Museum of African American History1984 – 1986Bethel New Life Records [West Side]Chicago Public Library, Harold Washington Library Center 1985Mahalia Jackson Photographs, 1962 – 1971* [music]Chicago History Museum 1985Willa Saunders Jones Papers* [theater, music, gospel]Chicago History Museum 1986, 1988, 2003Martin &amp; Morris Music Company Papers [music]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1987Era Bell Thompson Papers [journalism, photojournalism, Ebony, Johnson Publishing Company; partially processed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection1987/88Harold Washington Archives &amp; Collections; Mayoral Campaign RecordsChicago Public Library, Harold Washington Library Center1988Kuumba Theatre Company Records [theater]*Chicago Public Library, Harold Washington Library Center1988, 1992, 2000, 2002Heritage Press Archives [publishing, literature, poetry; Audre Lorde, Ishmael Reed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1989Chicago African American and Latino Newspapers Microfilm CollectionChicago Public Library, Harold Washington Library Center 1989Frank Marshall Davis Collection, 1935 – 1987 [poetry, literature, novelist]DuSable Museum of African American History 1989The Chicago Reporter Records, 1972 – 1989*[publishing]Chicago History Museum 1980s/1990sThe Ronald L. Fair Collection [novelist]Charles Deering McCormick Library of Special Collections at Northwestern UniversityBack to top 1990 – 1999 1990/1993Free Street Theater Collection [theater]Chicago Public Library, Harold Washington Library Center1991Maceo Anderson Papers [television]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection1991ETA, Creative Arts Foundation Collection [theater]Chicago Public Library, Harold Washington Library Center November 5, 1992, 1998Grace Mason Papers / Franklyn Atkinson Henderson Photograph Collection [photography]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1992Eugene Winslow papers, 1885-1993 [design, illustration, cartoons, publishing]University of Illinois at Chicago 1992Marjorie Stewart Joyner Papers [beauty, education, Madame C.J. Walker Beauty Colleges, Bud Billiken Parade, Chicago Defender Charities]*Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1992Carol Dworkin-Lems Papers [music]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1992Edward Manney Papers [curatorial practice, libraries; partially processed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1993Don Moye / Art Ensemble of Chicago Papers [music, jazz; partially processed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1993Mildred Hatchell Papers [music, hymns]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1993Chicago Journal Photograph Collection, c. 1976 – 1984 [publishing]Chicago History Museum1994Mildred Johnson Papers [poetry, literature; partially processed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1994Nannie Pinkney Papers [libraries]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1994Doris E. Saunders Papers [libraries, publishing, Johnson Publishing Company; partially processed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1995Kerry James Marshall’s Knowledge and Wonder is installed at the Legler Regional LibraryChicago Public Library1995William McBride, Jr. Papers [visual arts, activism, SSCAC]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1995Harold Washington Archives &amp; Collections. Mayoral Records Asian American Advisory Committee RecordsChicago Public Library, Harold Washington Library Center 1995Melva Williams Papers [music, education; partially processed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1995John H. Young Photograph Collection, c. 1911 – 1977 [photography]Chicago History Museum January 23, 1996Charles J. Evans Papers [Black Arts Movement, Black literature]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research CollectionJuly 1996Lucy Smith Collier Papers [music, gospel, radio]*Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection1996Greg Harris Papers [comics, illustration, partially processed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1996William Johnson Papers [photography, Washington Park; partially processed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection September 1997Brenda Eichelberger / National Alliance of Black Feminists PapersChicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection November 11, 1997The Cyrus Colter Papers [writer]Northwestern University ArchivesDecember 13, 1997Coalition to Save the South Shore Country Club (CSSSCC) Archives [preservation]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1997Sisi Donald Mosby Papers [journalism, activism; The Struggle newspaper]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection1997, 2007Path Press Archives [literature, civil rights]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection June, November, December 1998Richard Durham Papers [radio, television]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection October 30, 1998Theodore Charles Stone Papers [music, Chicago Music Association, National Assoc. Of Negro Musicians]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1998Black Ensemble Theater Collection [theater]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection1998Black Radical Congress Archive [activism, partially processed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1998Go On Girl! Book Club Archives [literature, partially processed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1998Dorothy Rogers Livingston Papers [theater, Chicago Park District]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1998Duke Ellington film, 1962Illinois Institute of Technology, Paul V. Galvin Library University Archives and Special Collections 1998Theodore Charles Stone Papers [music, journalism]Columbia College Chicago1999Evalyn Hamilton Papers [literature, libraries, partially processed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1999Thomas H. E. Miller Design Papers, 1953 – 1996 [design]University of Illinois at Chicago 1999Deborah Holton Papers [literature, theater; Lorraine Hansberry; unprocessed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1999Vernon Jarrett Videotape Collection [journalism]*Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1999Susan Cayton Woodson Papers [visual art, gallery, South Side Community Art Center]*Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 1999Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians Publicity Materials [music]Chicago History Museum1999The Bronzeville Historical Society is started by Sherry Williams and Black family history researchers.Back to top 2000 – 2004 2000Alice Browning Papers [poetry, literature, journalism, publishing]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 2000Dungill Family Papers [music]*Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection June 19, 2000The Ann Kathryn Flagg Papers [playwright, educator] Northwestern University Archives 2000Charles A. Sengstock, Jr. Papers, 1960-2000 [music, theater, architecture]Illinois Institute of Technology, Paul V. Galvin Library University Archives and Special Collections2000Rev. Elber Fowler Papers [photography, activism]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 2000Bennett Johnson Papers [publishing, activism, politics; unprocessed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection2000Michael St. James Photograph Collection [photography, 19th/20th Century]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research CollectionMay 5, 2000, 2001, 2016Leonard Wash Papers [writer, activism, Black Arts Movement, Black Power Movement]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection2001Maria Mootry Papers [poetry, literature, criticism, women, visual art,&nbsp; Black Arts Movement]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research CollectionDecember 2002Willard F. Motley Paper [journalism, Hull-house]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 2002The Shorefront Legacy Center is established in Evanston2214 Ridge Avenue 2002Val Gray Ward Papers [theater; unprocessed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 2002Rita Coburn Whack Collection [television, radio, film, curatorial practice, SSCAC]*Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 2002Bronzeville expansion collection, 1950 – 2017Illinois Institute of Technology, Paul V. Galvin Library University Archives and Special Collections 2002, 2004 – 2010Frances Minor Papers [education, activism, SSCAC]*Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research CollectionMay 29, 2003Timuel D. Black Jr PapersChicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 2003Madeline Stratton Morris Papers [education, activism, history]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection March 10, 2004Arthur Logan Papers [graphic design, music, gospel]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 2004Al Browne Papers [circus, unprocessed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 2004Leroy Bryant Papers [Black studies, Chicago State University, partially processed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 2004Josie Brown Childs Papers [activism, Harold Washington, Mississippi, partially processed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection2004Ishmael Flory Papers [activism, unprocessed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection2004David Kellum Papers [journalism, Chicago Defender, Bud Billiken]*Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection2004McGill Family Papers [journalism, libraries, politics]*Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research CollectionBack to top 2005 – 2009 April 27, 2005The Katherine Flowers Papers [dance]Northwestern University Archives 2005South Side Home Movie Project [film]University of Chicago 2005Barbara E. Allen Papers [film]*Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 2005Willie Box Papers [Black museums]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 2005Elma Stuckey Photograph Collection c. 1930 – 1950* [poetry]Chicago History Museum 2005African Festival of the Arts Posters, 1994 – 2004 [music, visual art]Chicago History Museum2005William Edouard Scott Papers [visual art, murals, illustration]*Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection May 2006Chicago SNCC (Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee) History Project Archives [civil rights movement, activism]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 2006Sydonia Brooks Collection/National Association of Negro Musicians Papers [music]*Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection2006The Black Metropolis Research Consortium is established at the University of Chicago 2006Loudella Evans Reid Papers [music, gospel]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 2006Gerri Oliver Papers* [music venues, The Palm Tavern]Chicago History Museum 2006Fannie Rushing Papers [activism, SNCC; unprocessed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 2006Carl E. Smith, Jr. Collection [publishing, music; partially processed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection2006 – 2013Marion Perkins Papers [visual art, sculpture]*Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection November 2007Capt. Walter Henri Dyett Papers [music, education]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 2007Etta Moten Barnett Papers [music, theater, activism]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection2007Brenetta Howell Barrett Papers [environmental justice, civil liberties, West Side]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 2007Abbott-Sengstacke Family Papers [newspaper publishing]*Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 2007Coalition to Save the ‘Met’ [labor unions, activism, preservation]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection2007, November 2015Chester Commodore Papers [comics, journalism]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 2007CORE (Congress of Racial Equality), Chicago Chapter Archives [activism]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection2007Fern Gayden Papers [Black literature, social work, South Side Writers Group]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection2007Esther Parada Papers [curatorial practice, visual arts, Jean Baptiste Point DuSable, unprocessed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection2008Strangers Home Missionary Baptist Church, located at 617 W. Evergreen Ave, with the All of Mankind mural painted by William “Bill” Walker is under risk of being demolished. 2008Sylvia Campbell Photograph Collection [West Side, 1968]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 2008Earl B. Dickerson Papers [civil rights, civil liberties]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 2008Anthony Rayson Zine Collection [publishing, Black Panther Party] DePaul University Library 2008Timothy Jackson Papers [cartoonist; partially processed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 2008Duke Ellington photographs, 1962Illinois Institute of Technology, Paul V. Galvin Library University Archives and Special Collections 2009Chicago Dance and Music Alliance Records, 1980 – 2005 [dance, music]Newberry Library 2009Madeline Murphy Rabb Papers [design, visual art, art advising]Chicago Public Library, Harold Washington LibraryBack to top 2010 – 2020 November 2010 Johnson Publishing Company Building Sold to Columbia College Chicago for $8 million. It was sold again in late 2017 and reopened June 2019 as apartments. December 2010Betty Gubert Collection of African Americans in Aviation [libraries, writers, flight]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 2010John A. McDermott Papers, 1949 – 1996* [publishing]Chicago History Museum 2010Richard E. Stamz Papers* [music]Center for Black Music Research, Columbia College Chicago 2010Chicago Video Project Archives [labor, social, economic justice; unprocessed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection2010Calvin B. Jones Papers [murals, Black Arts Movement, galleries; unprocessed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 2010J. Fred MacDonald Papers [film, television; unprocessed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection 2010Chandler Owen Papers [journalism, labor activism; The Messenger Journal, Chicago Bee; unprocessed]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection2011Toni Bond Leonard Collection [reproductive rights]*Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection2012Chicago Renaissance African American Art Festival [visual art]Chicago State University Archives and Special Collections 2012Johnson Publishing Company Library Collection + Archives donated to Rebuild Foundation and relocated to Stony Island Arts Bank.January 2013AfriCOBRA and Black Arts Movement Collection acquired by the Brooklyn Museum. The acquisition included 44 works by 26 artists, including Wadsworth Jarrell, Jeff Donaldson, Barbara Jones-Hogu, Jae Jarrell, and arts collective AfriCOBRA. October 2013 Gwendolyn Brooks Literary Archives acquired by the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign. The archives include 150 boxes with manuscripts, drafts, revisions, correspondence, scrapbooks, clippings, homemade chapbooks, handwritten poems, and awards 2013Archibald J. Motley, Jr. Papers and Photograph Collection* [visual art]Chicago History Museum2013BlackGold: Celebrating the Golden Age of Black Art!Chicago State University Archives and Special Collections2014Useni Eugene Perkins Papers [poetry, theater, writing, social work, Black Arts Movement, son of Marion Perkins]*Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection May 2015Dewey Roscoe Jones Papers [journalism, poetry, Chicago Defender, Hull-House]Chicago Public Library, Vivian G. Harsh Research Collection2015All of Mankind mural by William “Bill” Walker whitewashed on the Strangers Home Missionary Baptist Church, located at 617 West Evergreen Avenue. 2015Rev. Clay Evans Archive [gospel, civil rights]Chicago Public Library, Harold Washington Library Center c. 2015The Frankie Knuckles Vinyl Collection is donated to Rebuild Foundation by the Frankie Knuckles Foundation and relocated to the Stony Island Arts Bank.2016Mariame Kaba Papers [abolition; partially processed]Chicago Public Library 2016Chicago Black Lives Matter Protest Collection, 2014 – ongoing [activism]Newberry LibraryJuly 2017The Daphne Maxwell Reid Papers [actress, model, etc.]Northwestern University Archives 2017The Ira Frederick Aldridge Collection [Actor]Charles Deering McCormick Library of Special Collections at Northwestern University 2017Rev. Martin L. Deppe Papers [civil rights, social justice]Chicago Public Library, Harold Washington Library CenterJuly 2018The Angela Jackson Papers [writer, poet]Northwestern University ArchivesNovember 2018Knowledge and Wonder painting by Kerry James Marshall at the Legler Regional Library put up for auction at Christie’s by the City of Chicago and then withdrawn. 2018Chicago Black Social Culture MapHoney Pot Performance 2018The Pat Patrick Collection of Sun Ra Materials [musician]Northwestern University Music Library 2018Art &amp; Soul Records, 1917 – 2018 [visual art, Conservative Vice Lords]Newberry Library 2018Thing Magazine Records* [LGBTQ+, art, culture]Chicago History Museum July 2019Johnson Publishing Company Photo Archives acquired by Ford Foundation, the Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation, and the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation. The archives include 3.35 million negatives and slides, 983,000 photographs, 166,000 contact sheets, and 9,200 audio and visual recordings. July 2019Staff at the Center for Black Music Research terminated and access to the collection reduced. The CBMR is a collection of materials originating or representing black music in the United States, Africa, Europe, Latin America, and the Caribbean through personal papers, scores, sheet music, audio-visual materials, photographs, books, periodicals, and commercial recordings. 2019Eve L. Ewing Papers [poetry, writing]Newberry LibraryBack to top Acquisition date unknown at this time Associated Negro Press Collection, 1953 – 1953University of Illinois at Chicago Margaret Danner Papers, 1940 – 1984 [poetry]University of Chicago Library Special Collections Research Center Charles Harrison Papers, 1947 – 1997* [design]University of Illinois at Chicago Calvin Ashford, Jr. Design Papers, 1977 – 2008 [design]University of Illinois at Chicago Chicago Defender Archives Individuals Files, 1928-2007, bulk 1940s-1990s [publishing, journalism] Oscar Brown, Jr. Collection* [music, poetry]Chicago History Museum Richmond A. Jones Design Papers, 1970 – 2000 [design]University of Illinois at Chicago Emmett McBain Design Papers [design]University of Illinois at Chicago LeRoy Winbush Design Papers, 1955 – 1992* [design]University of Illinois at Chicago Chicago Defender Archives Organizations Files [publishing, journalism] Gwendolyn Brooks Black Writer’s Conference, 1991 – 1996Chicago State University Archives and Special Collections Ida B. Wells Papers, 1884 – 1976University of Chicago Library [artificial accession]Moving Image Collection, 1943 – 2005DuSable Museum of African American History Sue Cassidy Clark Papers, 1960 – 1990 [music, journalism]Columbia College Chicago National Black Feminist Organization CollectionUniversity of Illinois at Chicago Library National Alliance of Black Feminists CollectionUniversity of Illinois at Chicago LibraryBack to top Tempestt Hazel (she/her) is a curator, writer, and co-founder of Sixty Inches From Center, a Chicago-based arts publication and archiving initiative that has promoted and preserved the practices of BIPOC and LGBTQIA+ artists and artists with disabilities across the Midwest since 2010. Her curatorial work and work with Sixty was recently recognized with a J. Franklin Jameson Archival Advocacy Award from the Society of American Archivists (SAA). She is also the Arts Program Officer at Field Foundation. Tempestt was born and raised in Peoria, Illinois, spent several years in the California Bay Area, and has called Chicago her second home for over 12 years. https://losscaptureproject.cargo.site/Ebony-Memories Sun, 11 Oct 2020 20:52:52 +0000 Loss/Capture https://losscaptureproject.cargo.site/Ebony-Memories Ebony Memories <img width="1500" height="1874" width_o="1500" height_o="1874" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/39ce6a5088130ff6c40089738fdc0aa314395530a3c9dc5fad07412e83bf500a/Douglass--Neal.-Man-reading-Ebony-Magazine--photograph--June-6--1950--https___texashistory.unt.edu_ark__67531_metapth74438_m1_1__-accessed-October-10--2020--University-of-North-Texas-Libraries--The-Portal-to-Texas-History--https___texashi.jpg" data-mid="85284984" border="0" alt="Image: A black-and-white photo of a person sitting outdoors, under a tree and sitting on a bench in front of a wood picket fence reading Ebony Magazine, June 6, 1950. University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, Austin History Center, Austin Public Library. Photographer: Neal Douglass. " data-caption="Image: A black-and-white photo of a person sitting outdoors, under a tree and sitting on a bench in front of a wood picket fence reading Ebony Magazine, June 6, 1950. University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, Austin History Center, Austin Public Library. Photographer: Neal Douglass. " src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/39ce6a5088130ff6c40089738fdc0aa314395530a3c9dc5fad07412e83bf500a/Douglass--Neal.-Man-reading-Ebony-Magazine--photograph--June-6--1950--https___texashistory.unt.edu_ark__67531_metapth74438_m1_1__-accessed-October-10--2020--University-of-North-Texas-Libraries--The-Portal-to-Texas-History--https___texashi.jpg" /> The Johnson Publishing Company (JPC) released the first issue of Ebony Magazine on November 1, 1945. Since then, Ebony and other JPC publications, such as Jet Magazine, became an omnipresent beacon, document, and reflection of Black life in many people's homes, not only in Chicago but throughout the country and world. The publishing empire of John H. and Eunice Johnson has also been the topic of countless exhibitions, books, publications, and serves as a constant well of inspiration for artists, designers, photographers, journalists, and scholars. To remember and celebrate its 75th anniversary, we are collecting stories and memories of Ebony and the presence of JPC in your life. We also want to hear about your experiences across the JPC legacy, anything from Jet Magazine to Negro Digest, Black World, the Johnson Publishing building on Michigan Avenue in Chicago, or the Ebony Fashion Fair. You can submit your memories in written form, or upload an audio or video recording (5-minute limit). Written and audio responses can be shared anonymously. As part of the Loss/Capture Project and leading up to November 1, 2020, we will share your stories on this website, the project's Instagram page (@losscaptureproject), and Sixty Inches From Center's website and social media platforms. Participants will be contacted for permission prior to any use outside the scope of this project. We treasure your stories and know that these are precious, so please only share stories that you're comfortable sharing with us, our readers, and others like yourself who hold a special place in their memories for JPC. &gt;&nbsp;Submit your memories <img width="1063" height="1499" width_o="1063" height_o="1499" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/3a2728c2d3e695ed41dace117612cc5dbfb565fce83bb53a868e0bf55f6dab94/nypl-digitalcollections-d3a0fac0-81dc-0135-cde1-5dceb882b926-001-v.jpg" data-mid="85517882" border="0" alt="Image: The June 18, 1953 cover of Jet Magazine featuring Sarah Lou Harris. The cover is green with white text and a black-and-white portrait of Harris, who is wearing a light top and looking directly into the camera. The cover has the following words: &ldquo;Jet: The Weekly Negro News Maga&hellip;,&rdquo; &ldquo;A Johnson Publication, 15 cents,&rdquo; &ldquo;The truth about shotgun marriages,&rdquo; and in black text, &ldquo;Glamour queen of disc jockeys.&rdquo; Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture, Manuscripts, Archives and Rare Books Division, The New York Public Library. Photographer: Unknown." data-caption="Image: The June 18, 1953 cover of Jet Magazine featuring Sarah Lou Harris. The cover is green with white text and a black-and-white portrait of Harris, who is wearing a light top and looking directly into the camera. The cover has the following words: “Jet: The Weekly Negro News Maga…,” “A Johnson Publication, 15 cents,” “The truth about shotgun marriages,” and in black text, “Glamour queen of disc jockeys.” Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture, Manuscripts, Archives and Rare Books Division, The New York Public Library. Photographer: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/3a2728c2d3e695ed41dace117612cc5dbfb565fce83bb53a868e0bf55f6dab94/nypl-digitalcollections-d3a0fac0-81dc-0135-cde1-5dceb882b926-001-v.jpg" /> <img width="500" height="404" width_o="500" height_o="404" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/650e59560953b19f85e2af6e548dc61764cae3af15c147a5e932f93d13c5b89f/Bradley_2285_medium.jpg" data-mid="85517873" border="0" alt="Image: A black-and-white photo of an Ebony Fashion Fair model posing on a runway in a flowing and flared out light-colored cape and skirt, with a button up blouse and hat, wearing leather boots, c. 1974. African American Photographs Collection, Tom and Ethel Bradley Center, California State University Northridge. Photographer: Guy Crowder." data-caption="Image: A black-and-white photo of an Ebony Fashion Fair model posing on a runway in a flowing and flared out light-colored cape and skirt, with a button up blouse and hat, wearing leather boots, c. 1974. African American Photographs Collection, Tom and Ethel Bradley Center, California State University Northridge. Photographer: Guy Crowder." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/500/i/650e59560953b19f85e2af6e548dc61764cae3af15c147a5e932f93d13c5b89f/Bradley_2285_medium.jpg" /> <img width="1126" height="1500" width_o="1126" height_o="1500" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/0f84148ca7c17730530d6bef72f5e04ab9c59a9d106b18bb5b52dd07a10f0cfc/nypl-digitalcollections-8bb13aa0-813c-0135-85b3-69e77fc1d0f0-001-v.jpg" data-mid="85517878" border="0" alt="Image: A cover of Ebony Magazine featuring a potential Brandford Model, February 1949. The Ebony logo is white text on a red box against a blue background. The model in the image is wearing a red sweater, gloves, and a beige scarf. The words &ldquo;In this issue: How I was cheated out of $500,000 by Beau Jack,&rdquo; &ldquo;Skiing: New Favorite as Negro Winter Sport,&rdquo; and &ldquo;30 cents.&rdquo; Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture, Manuscripts, Archives and Rare Books Division, The New York Public Library. Photographer: Unknown." data-caption="Image: A cover of Ebony Magazine featuring a potential Brandford Model, February 1949. The Ebony logo is white text on a red box against a blue background. The model in the image is wearing a red sweater, gloves, and a beige scarf. The words “In this issue: How I was cheated out of $500,000 by Beau Jack,” “Skiing: New Favorite as Negro Winter Sport,” and “30 cents.” Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture, Manuscripts, Archives and Rare Books Division, The New York Public Library. Photographer: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/0f84148ca7c17730530d6bef72f5e04ab9c59a9d106b18bb5b52dd07a10f0cfc/nypl-digitalcollections-8bb13aa0-813c-0135-85b3-69e77fc1d0f0-001-v.jpg" /> <img width="621" height="801" width_o="621" height_o="801" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/580e31cd57853c2c267a960d237556ee0423674116804272af7150a6114f7e25/Virginia-Slims-in-Ebony-Magazine.jpg" data-mid="85517883" border="0" alt="Image: An advertisement for Virginia Slims in Ebony Magazine, May 1975. The image shows a person with a pink-lavender dress and a headscarf, hands raised and resting on their head, holding a cigarette with the words &ldquo;You&rsquo;ve come a long way, baby.&rdquo; at the top in white letters. Richard W. Pollay Cigarette Ads Collection, UCSF Library. Designer: Philip Morris. " data-caption="Image: An advertisement for Virginia Slims in Ebony Magazine, May 1975. The image shows a person with a pink-lavender dress and a headscarf, hands raised and resting on their head, holding a cigarette with the words “You’ve come a long way, baby.” at the top in white letters. Richard W. Pollay Cigarette Ads Collection, UCSF Library. Designer: Philip Morris. " src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/621/i/580e31cd57853c2c267a960d237556ee0423674116804272af7150a6114f7e25/Virginia-Slims-in-Ebony-Magazine.jpg" /> <img width="499" height="617" width_o="499" height_o="617" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/4d09be92568c86808b905f6678816830280ee8f575a15ffd1bdbf6e529f43940/Bradley_2302_medium.jpg" data-mid="85517874" border="0" alt="Image: A black-and-white photo of an Ebony Fashion Fair model posing on a runway in a long dress and jacket, pulling it open, c. 1974. She&rsquo;s looking off to the right, wearing a head wrap and earrings. African American Photographs Collection, Tom and Ethel Bradley Center, California State University Northridge. Photographer: Guy Crowder. " data-caption="Image: A black-and-white photo of an Ebony Fashion Fair model posing on a runway in a long dress and jacket, pulling it open, c. 1974. She’s looking off to the right, wearing a head wrap and earrings. African American Photographs Collection, Tom and Ethel Bradley Center, California State University Northridge. Photographer: Guy Crowder. " src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/499/i/4d09be92568c86808b905f6678816830280ee8f575a15ffd1bdbf6e529f43940/Bradley_2302_medium.jpg" /> <img width="933" height="1499" width_o="933" height_o="1499" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/13f2a79a3d60bdd648f2d967ee026fcfef762ee404c4aa168706a390b2aad1ef/An_Afternoon_with_Lerone_Bennett_Jr.jpg" data-mid="85517872" border="0" alt="Image: An orange flyer with black text for An Afternoon with Lerone Bennett, Jr. event with the Indianapolis-Marion County Public Library Foundation, Inc, February, 20, 1983. There&rsquo;s a profile photo portrait of Bennett with the words &ldquo;Senior Editor, EBONY Magazine, Historian, and a list of books he&rsquo;s authored. Indianapolis Public Library African American History Committee, Indianapolis Marion County Public Library. Designer: Unknown." data-caption="Image: An orange flyer with black text for An Afternoon with Lerone Bennett, Jr. event with the Indianapolis-Marion County Public Library Foundation, Inc, February, 20, 1983. There’s a profile photo portrait of Bennett with the words “Senior Editor, EBONY Magazine, Historian, and a list of books he’s authored. Indianapolis Public Library African American History Committee, Indianapolis Marion County Public Library. Designer: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/933/i/13f2a79a3d60bdd648f2d967ee026fcfef762ee404c4aa168706a390b2aad1ef/An_Afternoon_with_Lerone_Bennett_Jr.jpg" /> https://losscaptureproject.cargo.site/Loss-Capture-In-Conversation-Vivian-G-Harsh-s-Life-and-Legacy-with-Dr Sun, 01 Nov 2020 19:56:17 +0000 Loss/Capture https://losscaptureproject.cargo.site/Loss-Capture-In-Conversation-Vivian-G-Harsh-s-Life-and-Legacy-with-Dr <img width="1500" height="1143" width_o="1500" height_o="1143" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/b8a122b5db74cad568baf03b7e3c0652b134afdaa6f2d44ecc4cb9d0e46409e4/3_VivianHarsh_CharlemaeRollins_AtHallBranch_ChicagoPublicLibrary.jpg" data-mid="87337223" border="0" alt="Image: Women's reading group at Hall Branch, 1940. In this photograph, Vivian Harsh, the first African American branch head of the Chicago Public Library, is at the back on the left, children's literature writer, librarian, and advocate, Charlemae Hill Rollins, is at the back on the right They are standing behind a table where 26 other people are sitting, books and papers in front of them, most looking at the camera. Hall Branch Archives. Photographer: Unknown." data-caption="Image: Women's reading group at Hall Branch, 1940. In this photograph, Vivian Harsh, the first African American branch head of the Chicago Public Library, is at the back on the left, children's literature writer, librarian, and advocate, Charlemae Hill Rollins, is at the back on the right They are standing behind a table where 26 other people are sitting, books and papers in front of them, most looking at the camera. Hall Branch Archives. Photographer: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/b8a122b5db74cad568baf03b7e3c0652b134afdaa6f2d44ecc4cb9d0e46409e4/3_VivianHarsh_CharlemaeRollins_AtHallBranch_ChicagoPublicLibrary.jpg" /> Loss/Capture In Conversation: Vivian G. Harsh’s Life and Legacy with Dr. Melanie Chambliss and Tracy Drake Hailed as Chicago’s first Black librarian, Vivian G. Harsh was the curator and Black heritage advocate behind the Special Negro Collection at the Hall Branch of the Chicago Public Library, the largest collection of its kind in the Midwest. In this edition of the Loss/Capture In Conversation, listen as scholar Dr. Melanie Chambliss and archivist Tracy Drake discuss the work they’ve done to illuminate Harsh’s story and call attention to the collection, which is now named for her and housed at the Woodson Regional Library. Melanie Chambliss is assistant professor of history at Columbia College Chicago. Her in-progress manuscript, "Saving the Race: Black Archives, Black Liberation, and the Remaking of Modernity" explores the founding and impact of early twentieth century black archives. She has a forthcoming article in the Journal of African American History on the life and legacy of Chicago public librarian Vivian Harsh. She also has an essay on the early years of the Moorland Foundation Library at Howard University in the edited collection The Unfinished Book. Tracy Drake is an archivist at Reed College, focused on acquiring, preserving, and providing access to the historical and cultural records of the college. As an information professional, Tracy strives to provide equitable access to the stories of the Black experience. In 2018, she was chosen as a member of the American Library Association class of Emerging Leaders. Her scholarship and research is centered on the practice of radical empathy and anti-racism in society and information. She is also co-founder of the Blackivists collective, a group of trained Black archivists who prioritize Black cultural heritage preservation and memory work. https://losscaptureproject.cargo.site/Loss-Capture-In-Conversation-Chicago-s-Music-Legacies-with-Ireashia-M Sun, 01 Nov 2020 20:45:19 +0000 Loss/Capture https://losscaptureproject.cargo.site/Loss-Capture-In-Conversation-Chicago-s-Music-Legacies-with-Ireashia-M <img width="800" height="651" width_o="800" height_o="651" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/e207a822c03078dda35b47337f58d412dc5a2fd88d3304cf771954910d3200ea/Union-Park_0210_choir-1.jpg" data-mid="87339144" border="0" alt="Image: A black-and-white photo of a Union Park Music Appreciation performance, June 21, 1940. Photo shows nine young people standing on chairs, five turned to the left, four to the right, all singing from sheet music. Chicago Public Library. Special Collections &amp; Preservation Division. Photographer: Unknown." data-caption="Image: A black-and-white photo of a Union Park Music Appreciation performance, June 21, 1940. Photo shows nine young people standing on chairs, five turned to the left, four to the right, all singing from sheet music. Chicago Public Library. Special Collections &amp; Preservation Division. Photographer: Unknown." src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/800/i/e207a822c03078dda35b47337f58d412dc5a2fd88d3304cf771954910d3200ea/Union-Park_0210_choir-1.jpg" /> Loss/Capture In Conversation: Chicago’s Music Legacies with Ireashia M. Bennett and Arlene Turner-Crawford It’s hard to deny Chicago’s place as an epicenter of Black music. From House to blues, gospel, jazz, and hip hop, it has defined and defied genres and been home to some legendary venues where those sounds were born, nurtured, and came of age. In this edition of the Loss/Capture In Conversation, listen in as artists and music connoisseurs Ireashia M. Bennett and Arlene Turner-Crawford have a discussion about a love of Chicago music that transcends generations. Ireashia M. Bennett (they/them) is a multidisciplinary artist and transmedia storyteller who explores the complexities of trauma, survival, and healing within Black communities. They produce multimedia essays, short documentaries, and experimental films to ensure complex issues are accessible to all. With multimedia collage, Ireashia weaves together archival materials with captured imagery to explore how trauma, and the process of healing through meaning-making, is embedded in Black people’s genealogy, ancestral memory, and history. Arlene Turner-Crawford (she/her) works in the media of drawing, painting, printmaking and Graphic illustration. In recent years she has curated, led and participated in several public art murals and installation projects for the Burnham Wildlife Corridor for Chicago Park District, NEIU’s Carruthers Center for Inner City Studies, and Phoebe Hurst Elementary, among others. Her published artworks are included in the books Roads, Where there are No Roads by Angela Jackson, Revise the Psalm – Works Celebrating the Writing of Gwendolyn Brooks; and Contemporary Plays by African American Women edited by Sandra Adell.