BLACK SCHOLARPub Date : 2023-01-02DOI: 10.1080/00064246.2022.2145593
João Batista Nascimento Gregoire
{"title":"The Forgotten Voices of Democracy","authors":"João Batista Nascimento Gregoire","doi":"10.1080/00064246.2022.2145593","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/00064246.2022.2145593","url":null,"abstract":"At the moment, broad sectors of the population are organized around the goal of regaining the democratic freedoms lost after the 1964 military coup. The Black population cannot be absent, we need to be active agents in this process. The MNU joins forces with those who fight for free trade unionism, for freedoms of expression and organization, for general, inclusive, and unrestricted political amnesty and, for a freely elected Constituent Assembly. We are going to participate in the November 15 electoral process, supporting candidates who are aligned with the MNU’s program... The Brazilian population will reaffirm their disavowal of this anti-national and anti-popular regime...We are going to say no to censorship, because we know that its principal goal is to impede our awareness and the fight for better living conditions. We are going to say yes to democracy.","PeriodicalId":45369,"journal":{"name":"BLACK SCHOLAR","volume":"53 1","pages":"3 - 18"},"PeriodicalIF":0.4,"publicationDate":"2023-01-02","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"46483241","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
BLACK SCHOLARPub Date : 2023-01-02DOI: 10.1080/00064246.2022.2145552
M. Dickinson
{"title":"Having Become Free by the Law of 1780","authors":"M. Dickinson","doi":"10.1080/00064246.2022.2145552","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/00064246.2022.2145552","url":null,"abstract":"I n November of 1794, an enslaved woman named Pegg requested assistance from the Pennsylvania Abolition Society (PAS), an exclusively white abolition organization, in securing her freedom. Pegg and her slaveholder, Phillip Ruby, had moved to Pennsylvania from North Carolina six years earlier. After their first three years in the state, Ruby organized an indentured servitude contract with Pegg, agreeing to free her after 14 additional years of service. Pegg served three years of the indenture during which she discovered that she was legally free. In 1780, Pennsylvania ratified “An Act for the Gradual Abolition of Slavery,” also referred to as the “Gradual Abolition Act.” Among its stipulations, the law required slaveholders coming into the state to indenture their enslaved people within six months of their arrival. Because Phillip Ruby did not indenture Pegg within the first six months, the law granted her freedom. With her newfound knowledge Pegg, “now having arrived to her 19th or 20th year of age & being married” contacted the PAS and “apply’d for release” from her contract. The fact that Pegg’s status as a married womanwas detailedwithin the generally succinct PAS meeting minutes suggests that the relationship was perhaps a significant factor motivating Pegg to pursue her freedom claim. A marriage without the confines of forced labor would have been worth the risk. The organization supported her claim noting that “the girl having become free by the operation of the Law of 1780” should have her liberty. PAS lawyers then pursued her case, using the courts to enforce the abolition law, and secured her freedom. By actively applying for assistance from the organization, Pegg resisted both her oppressor and the institution of slavery. Her case was just one example in the larger story of Black resistance and agency in the late eighteenth century. Her story was far from uncommon. And as was the case with Pegg, many people of African descent actively solicited the help of PAS staff members, fostering interracial allyship, to claim their freedom and the freedom of loved ones. As historians increasingly work to uncover Black voices and activism, the cases of the PAS provide rich windows into Black agency during the Early Republic. This study utilizes the Papers of the Pennsylvania Abolition Society to examine how Black men and women fought for their liberty between 1784, when the PAS began its large-scale efforts to aid people of African descent, through the turn of the century. Investigating their struggles also provides insight into the many complexities of freedom in the decades immediately following the American Revolution. Though limited, PAS records reveal a Black population, enslaved and free, committed to securing and maintaining freedom. Between 1784, when the organization reorganized, and the end of the century, the PAS pursued hundreds of cases, many of which were the result of Black claimants actively seeking help from the","PeriodicalId":45369,"journal":{"name":"BLACK SCHOLAR","volume":"53 1","pages":"50 - 62"},"PeriodicalIF":0.4,"publicationDate":"2023-01-02","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"49667589","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
BLACK SCHOLARPub Date : 2023-01-02DOI: 10.1080/00064246.2022.2145596
Ahmad Greene-Hayes
{"title":"Experiments with Power: Obeah and the Remaking of Religion in Trinidad","authors":"Ahmad Greene-Hayes","doi":"10.1080/00064246.2022.2145596","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/00064246.2022.2145596","url":null,"abstract":"J. Brent Crosson’s Experiments with Power is, indeed, an experiment, and a successful one at that. A powerfully written, meticulously researched ethnography, Crosson offers an insightful way forward for thinking critically about the policing of Africanderived religions in the afterlife of slavery and colonialism in Trinidad and throughout the Americas. This policing is not a relic of the past, but as the spiritual workers in Crosson’s narrative argue, the past and the present are not only interconnected, but they blur. Pointedly, Crosson charts how the historical construction of the “thug” by the state and its allies has worked in tandem with the construction of the category of “the demonic,” such that criminalized Black people are also likened to “demons.” As I read Crosson’s theoretical analysis, especially in the first chapter “What Obeah Does Do,” I was reminded of former Ferguson police officer Darren Wilson’s grand jury testimony in 2014 that the slain Michael Brown, Jr.—whom he killed—was “like a demon.” In his narrative account, Crosson joins a rich discourse on the policing of Black people and Black people’s religions. Without question, policing is shaped by carcerality, and as Crosson shows, by carceral theologies at the helm of the category of “religion.” Antiblackness shapes the world as we know it, including policing, and “religion” is often shaped by antiblackness, and so as Crosson encourages, we must examine “what it excludes rather than [just] its recognized representations” (9). Religion and religious studies are confining discourses, and Black people are often their prisoners, seeking the freedom to believe, practice, and live religious lives not shaped by statecraft. Obeah, a criminalized, policed constellation of African-derived religious practices, has only recently been decriminalized in Trinidad as of 2000, though the stigma surrounding it persists throughout the","PeriodicalId":45369,"journal":{"name":"BLACK SCHOLAR","volume":"53 1","pages":"66 - 68"},"PeriodicalIF":0.4,"publicationDate":"2023-01-02","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"48963220","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
BLACK SCHOLARPub Date : 2022-10-02DOI: 10.1080/00064246.2022.2111649
M. Collins
{"title":"The Purity of Scraps","authors":"M. Collins","doi":"10.1080/00064246.2022.2111649","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/00064246.2022.2111649","url":null,"abstract":"Many will recall with ease the murder of 12-year-old Tamir Rice in 2014 whose untimely death was a flash point in the ongoing protest against state-sanctioned deaths in the new century. Following the death of Trayvon Martin in 2012, Tamir’s death joined a cadre of other high-profile police killings that rallied national outcries and birthed new political movements largely formed by the digital age in which they occurred, such as #BlackLivesMatter and the Movement for Black Lives. The 9-11 call from the person who first speculated that a “Black man was throwing a gun around,” visualized the scene of Rice’s death for listeners. In many ways, the lasting legacy of the digital footprint of Tamir Rice’s death is the most material thing we have of his memory. Stills from this video are what replays the actual events and normalizes the mass viewership of Black death, remnant of lynchings in our not so distant past that once attracted crowds of over ten thousand people. In the same era in which videos of the death scenes of Korryn Gaines, Eric Garner, and Tamir Rice circulated the web, a concurrent public memory crisis erupted around the institutional and structural legacies of the Civil War and Confederate “heroes.” The ire to remove Confederate monuments was part and parcel of the same social fabric of this time, displacing the impossibility to erect physical memorials for slain Black folks while the digital allowed us to re-live their deaths over and over—sustaining grief as a permanent condition of Black life. This condition is often defined as the social position of being Black. Critical Black theorists engage in mourning in a myriad of ways; most applicable here are their contributions to the ways it contributes to a “slow death” of Black mothers and how mourning continues the spectacle created by Black death. These spectacles manifest physically in memorials, monuments, and in the bodies and minds that contextualize them within their own experiences with mothering and parentage. Material memorials for Black people, meaning three dimensional sites, statues, or plaques commemorating the slain, were defunct for a society that was still living the original event at the click of a button and the never-ending evidence of gratuitous antiBlackness. What is less frequently recalled about the murder of Tamir Rice and those also killed by state-sanctioned violence in the digital age is the difficulty to erect material memorials of their lives. The abhorrent circumstances through which they died challenge attempts to materially manifest Black memorial. The public resistance to figure state culpability within the grammar of memorialization continues to demand critique. A critique of the memorialization within the context of the Black maternal relies on Samaria Rice’s grief as a framework to understand the object of the gazebo as a generative object for a multitude of efforts including healing for Tamir’s mother, but","PeriodicalId":45369,"journal":{"name":"BLACK SCHOLAR","volume":"52 1","pages":"16 - 26"},"PeriodicalIF":0.4,"publicationDate":"2022-10-02","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"48294129","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
BLACK SCHOLARPub Date : 2022-10-02DOI: 10.1080/00064246.2022.2111654
E. L. Hayes
{"title":"Between Flesh and Dirt","authors":"E. L. Hayes","doi":"10.1080/00064246.2022.2111654","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/00064246.2022.2111654","url":null,"abstract":"Houston’s rap genre, chop and screw, focuses on the distortion of sound and voice; here, not only is the original song distorted, but the listener requires a slow listening practice to hear what could not hear before. I liken the methodological openings of a distortive tempo like chop and screw to the speculative openings needed of Texas’ archives of enslavement. Distortion, as a tool of Black archival practice, is also called upon by Sylvia Wynter who writes that “The Europeans usedwriting” to establish hegemonic authority. It was the privilege of legibility through a pen, writing, and creation of and dependence on the archival record that overwrote African diasporic knowledge production countering what is known, materialized, and recorded of the enslavement era. Rather, from the emergence of Black cultural spaces, the enslaved could articulate themselves in theworld, in community and in nature thus creating their own ongoing record of events. Here, these (il)legible spaces broke ground to disrupt this white hegemonic dependency on an archive as the sole proprietor of legitimate knowledge on enslavement. Archival distortion allows for speculative play in the illegible, and sometimes non-sensical, remnants of Afro-Texan women’s memory of living under enslavement. This text, thus, turns to an archive made of dirt. Building from Black Texan sonic legacies and, what I take up as a methodological intentionality behind chop and screw, I offer the slow ponderings of my dive into the difficult ways of preserving memory Afro-Texan women integrated within, alongside, and beyond the FWP archive. Afro-Texans, specifically formerly enslavedwomen, slowlymaking historical record of their enslavement illegible, or difficult to engage linearly. In other words, the FWP was not the “text [onto] which [their] social relations [we]re inscribed.” Taking rather literally Wynter’s turn to “grounds,” I, too, came to focus in on the important role of Texas dirt as an archive used to hold material and immaterial record of Afro-Texan histories. Dirt made portions of Afro-Texan women’s narratives illegible under the consumptive and dehumanizing nature of FWP archiving and plantation era violences seeped into its record. Simultaneously, dirt transformed what would have been archival analysis of relations occurring between Black flesh and Texan plantation dirt—an obscure relation where one is not too distinct from the other. It is dirt that pointed this text towards the consideration that perhaps the true archives of enslavement we study and hope to engage require a strangeness in response. Turning to the dirt of the Black South nods to its epistemological oddities that not only blur flesh and dirt through its consumption, but as an archive offers a space of fabulation where intimacy from it—what Yaeger describes as “flesheating, dirt-eating kindredness... of the hardbitten everyday”—may offer a cloudy complexity to how archival terror at the hands of early twentieth-century ","PeriodicalId":45369,"journal":{"name":"BLACK SCHOLAR","volume":"52 1","pages":"53 - 63"},"PeriodicalIF":0.4,"publicationDate":"2022-10-02","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"44045488","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
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