July 28, 2016Comments are off for this post.

Innovative Cultural Advocacy Fellowship at CCCADI

ICA Fellows Cohort 2

 

“Go forth and kick ass!”[i] was the directive given to me by Dr. Lowery Stokes Sims, recently retired Curator Emerita of the Museum of Arts and Design, former executive director of the Studio Museum in Harlem, and former curator for the Metropolitan Museum of Art. How did I end up in conversation with such distinguished company?

The Innovative Cultural Advocacy Fellowship (ICA), at the Caribbean Cultural Center African Diaspora Institute (CCCADI) “trains emerging arts-based professionals, transitioning into NYC cultural institutional public leadership and management, with a targeted focus to include and support persons from historically under-represented communities… The Fellowship also includes site visits at NYC arts and cultural institutions, along with networking opportunities with notable senior arts executives.”[ii] As a fellow of the spring 2016 cohort, I was paired with Dr. Sims, along with three of my fellow fellows, and scheduled for an interview, which proved to be nothing less than inspirational.

I am a community-based visual artist from Baltimore, Maryland and I am a member of the Lumbee Tribe of North Carolina. I have followed the work of Dr. Marta Moreno Vega, founding director of CCCADI, since 2007, when she visited my school, Maryland Institute College of Art. I was completing a Master of Arts in Community Arts degree at the time, and I remember feeling very exhausted. I hadn’t even graduated when Dr. Vega encouraged me to continue my education beyond the Masters level, stating that there are not enough women of color with advanced degrees. I listened.

Ten years later, I still live in Baltimore and work primarily in the South. When I applied to become an ICA fellow, I proposed that my participation in such a fellowship in NYC could give me insight into the workings of the cultural scene in any city, and it would afford me the invaluable opportunity to consider these things amongst peers.

In order to be able to make the commute to NYC, I also applied for and received Artistic Assistance funding from Alternate ROOTS, an organization based in the Southern USA whose mission is to support the creation and presentation of original art, in all its forms; whose members strive to be allies in the elimination of all forms of oppression; who are committed to social and economic justice and the protection of the natural world.[iii]

This fellowship provides tools for us to “understand the historical context for NYC’s current cultural arts landscape as it relates to NYC’s changing racial, ethnic and cultural communities; deepen skills in public management, leadership, communication and best practices in advancing cultural equity; enhance personal awareness, courage, clarity and commitment regarding their purpose and promise as progressive leaders in this field; examine the historical constructs classifying some art as ‘high art,’ the standards that drive it, and how societal bias obstructs cultural equity; receive career advisement and create a professional development plan; broaden [our] work experience in the arts advocacy sector via cohort assignments; learn how the range of NYC’s key public arts institutions work and gain access to these institutions and their leaders via site visits; [and to] gain and apply skills to strengthen their institutions, and/or cultural work via [this,] the ICA final project.”[iv]

It was mentioned many times that a “core emphasis of the Fellowship is the advancement of cultural equity.”[v] Baltimore Racial Justice Action (BRJA) defines “equity” as “the condition that would be achieved if identities assigned to historically oppressed groups no longer acted as the most powerful predictor of how one fares, with the root causes of inequities, not just their manifestations, eliminated. This includes elimination of policies, practices, attitudes and cultural messages that reinforce or fail to eliminate differential outcomes by group identity/background (economic, educational, health, criminal justice, etc).”[vi]

Now having practiced professionally for at least ten years, and having collaborated extensively with other like-minded artists for social justice, I think it’s fair to say that we operate, collectively, from a position that conceives of equity as an achievable outcome. In fact, as artists, it is literally our job to envision the equitable society in which we would like to live. Yet, this fall I will begin my third year in an American Studies PhD program, which has offered different perspectives and ways of theorizing American society, some of which identify notions of equity, here on this land, as part and parcel of a national mythology. Following those lines of reasoning, “‘twas never thus!”[vii] and indeed, perhaps it never can be.

Cultural equity, or lack thereof, in this country, correlates to lines first and most prominently drawn along race. Those lines are older than the nation-state of “America” itself, dating back to at least 1492 when Europeans ravaging Hispaniola wondered if the natives they encountered were fully human.[viii] America was founded on genocide. To date, its existence depends on the invisibility of the indigenous populations that remain, and the legacies of violent subjugation of the descendents of enslaved people who made this nation “great.”

Inequity stemming from white supremacy is embedded in America’s DNA. In the architecture of the buildings where the American government is housed, in contemporary popular culture, and even in the hearts and minds of young children, race-based inequities are perpetuated. That’s why, when I recently participated in an Undoing Racism workshop offered by the People’s Institute for Survival and Beyond (with a close friend of Dr. Sims, Dr. Leslie King Hammond), I said “I’m not sure racism actually can be undone here.” And I’m not sure that equity can actually be achieved. That’s an honest summation of where I am right now- holding space for the contradiction between visions, and practical knowledge of racial formation and the social construction of realities on this land.

I ask, if equity indeed cannot be achieved in America, what, then, is our work? Is it always in the undoing? Is it just the struggle?

As Dr. Vega herself writes, “The challenge for historically marginalized communities that are part of the matrix of the United States and other colonial countries is how to have their cultures and contributions valued as integral to the civil society they have been critical in forming.”[ix] And “[i]mportant to the process of sustaining people on the margins of colonial imposition has been devaluing humanity, history, and creative products of those historically oppressed which renders invisible the contributions they have made to their countries and to world cultures."[x] In other words, our histories are not History and our art is not Art.

It is difficult to offer strategies to achieve cultural equity in NYC’s communities when I don’t believe wholeheartedly that equity is even possible in America. I am, however, able to offer strategies based on personal takeaways of this fellowship that I believe can be put to work to keep all of us strong, and enable us to move forward, if nothing more.

The first strategy is a collective, conscious reconceptualization of individual identity. My current contention about individual identity is that it doesn’t exist. We are not unique snowflakes as we are taught to believe in elementary school. And all of our artistic genius, talents, and skills do not begin only with ourselves. We are raised as citizens of our communities, with roles in our communities, on the strengths of our relatives (and We Are All Related), on the prayers and the work laid down by our ancestors. According to sociologists, we aren’t even fully human until we are socialized.[xi] We are never, at any point in our lives, individuals. Yet, capitalism, the true ruler of this nation, worships the ego. The Western art world does as well. Within both paradigms, competition is fierce, resources are understood to be scarce, and fellow artists are enemies.

Let’s consciously move away from ego and toward community with each other. Let’s remind each other that we belong to each other continuously. Let’s live and work and love with that truth in mind. As a result of this fellowship, I read these words of the late artist / activist Fred Ho: “I think the real thing is that the community from which it comes can only catalyze the ingeniousness of individualism. That no one is an isolated singular genius irrespective of all the players’ community in which they journeyed through, I think that's the key thing. When people talk about, ‘oh your influences,’ that's just the beginning of a discussion about that kind of interactivity, of the community from which one comes out of as a player.”[xii]

A second major takeaway from this fellowship was an awakening, brought on by guest speaker Ms. Baraka Sele, about the language used to describe our people. Dominant society uses language to diminish our humanity, and likewise diminish our cultures and our art. Words to describe us are always diminutive or disparaging, for example: minority, underserved, outsider, primitive, etc. Words have meanings. They mean more than they say. The language used to describe us tells a story about us. If we use the same language, it means that we have internalized the story. If “the truth about stories is that’s all we are,”[xiii] then we better start telling a different story. A second strategy, then, is to collectively insist on using language that seeks, instead, to reflect our power, beauty, and strength. In doing this, I believe we can also change stories being told about us and thereby change our lived experiences.

Famed postcolonial theorist, and self-identified postcolonial subject himself, Frantz Fanon, spoke to the responsibility (in this case, his own) of oppressed persons to bear the (hi)story of their people. He wrote, "Our history takes place in obscurity and the sun I carry with me must lighten every corner."[xiv] In other words, it is through the telling of one’s own story that the histories of oppressed people come to be known by all of society. Whether or not tellers share with this intent or sense of responsibility in mind, their stories function as suns, illuminating darkened corners of human experience that have been left out of dominant narratives. But “Stories are wondrous things. And they are dangerous,”[xv] as Native Studies scholar, Thomas King, cautions. Stories can control lives, and can hold people captive.[xvi] “…Once [a] story is told, it cannot be called back. Once told, it is loose in the world. So you have to be careful with the stories you tell. And you have to watch out for the stories that you are told.”[xvii]

A third and final strategy would be to make a conscious effort to tap into our subconscious. Why? Because I know that I know things without knowing them, and so do you. Because I recognize that I am connected to my folks who came before me, who go with me to show me the way, whose experiences and wisdom is embedded in my DNA.

On the very first day that our cohort met, we were led through a guided meditation. I hate guided meditations. I generally refuse to participate. That day, because I chose to participate, I got to spend time with my beloved uncle who walked on several years ago. Because I was where I was supposed to be, and open to doing that I asked to do, I was able to access insight as to why I am even here on this earth.

The third strategy, then, is to tap into the knowledge sealed up in our bones, to believe in magic, to be open to other ways of knowing. After all, “the master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.”[xviii] If equity can be achieved, we’ll need our own tools to achieve it.

Maybe that’s how we can go forth and kick ass like Dr. Sims said to do.

 

Bibliography

“Definitions,” Baltimore Racial Justice Action

Accessed July 16, 2016 http://bmoreantiracist.org/resources-2/explanations/

Franz Fanon. Black Skin, White Masks (New York: Grove Press, 1967).

Ithaka S+R. Diversity in the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs Community. By Ron C. Schonfeld and Liam Sweeney. January 28, 2016

Lorde, Audre. “The Master’s Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master’s House,” in Sister Outsider: Essays and Speeches. (Berkeley: Crossing Press, 1984, 2007), 110-114.

Marta Moreno Vega, “A Transformative Initiative for Achieving Cultural Equity: Community Arts University Without Walls,” in The Routledge Companion to Art and Politics, ed. Randy Martin. (London and New York: Routledge, 2015), 159-172.

“Open for Submissions: Innovative Cultural Advocacy Fellowship 2016,”

Caribbean Cultural Center African Diaspora Institute, Accessed July 16, 2016.

http://www.cccadi.org/education-news/2016/6/24/open-for-submission-innovative- cultural-advocacy-fellowship-2016

Omi & Winant, Racial Formations in the United States from the 1960s to the 1990s. Second Edition (New York: Routledge, 1994).

Roger N. Buckley and Tamara Roberts, eds., Yellow Power Yellow Soul: The Radical Art of Fred Ho (Urbana, Chicago and Springfield: University of Illinois Press, 2013), 191-213.

“The Innovative Cultural Advocacy Fellowship: Next Gen Leaders Advancing Cultural Equity,” Caribbean Cultural Center African Diaspora Institute, Accessed July 16, 2016 http://www.cccadi.org/icafellowship

Thomas King, The Truth About Stories: A Native Narrative (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2003).

“What is ROOTS?” Alternate ROOTS, Accessed July 14, 2016.

What Is ROOTS?

Personal communication with the Dr. Lowery Stokes Sims, June 10, 2016.

[ii] “The Innovative Cultural Advocacy Fellowship: Next Gen Leaders Advancing Cultural Equity,” Caribbean Cultural Center African Diaspora Institute, Accessed July 16, 2016 http://www.cccadi.org/icafellowship

[iii] “What is ROOTS?” Alternate ROOTS, Accessed July 14, 2016. https://alternateroots.org/about-us/

[iv] Ibid.

[v] “Open for Submissions: Innovative Cultural Advocacy Fellowship 2016,”

Caribbean Cultural Center African Diaspora Institute, Accessed July 16, 2016.

http://www.cccadi.org/education-news/2016/6/24/open-for-submission-innovative-cultural-advocacy-fellowship-2016

[vi] “Definitions,” Baltimore Racial Justice Action Accessed July 16, 2016

[vii] “’Twas ever thus” a phrase from Thomas Moore's poem "The Fire Worshippers" (1817), has become a popular literary idiom.

[viii] Omi & Winant, Racial Formations in the United States from the 1960s to the 1990s. Second Edition (New York: Routledge, 1994). pp 61-62.

[ix] Marta Moreno Vega, “A Transformative Initiative for Achieving Cultural Equity: Community Arts University Without Walls,” in The Routledge Companion to Art and Politics, ed. Randy Martin. (London and New York: Routledge, 2015), p. 159.

[x] Ibid.

[xi] Ian Robertson, Society: A Brief Introduction (City: Worth Publishers, 1988), 249.

[xii] Roger N. Buckley and Tamara Roberts, eds., Yellow Power Yellow Soul: The Radical Art of Fred Ho (Urbana, Chicago and Springfield: University of Illinois Press, 2013), 201.

[xiii] Thomas King, The Truth About Stories: A Native Narrative (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2003), p. 2.

[xiv] Franz Fanon. Black Skin, White Masks (New York: Grove Press, 1967).

[xv] Thomas King, The Truth About Stories: A Native Narrative (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2003), p. 9.

[xvi] Ibid.

[xvii] Ibid.

[xviii] Lorde, Audre. “The Master’s Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master’s House,” in Sister  Outsider: Essays and Speeches. (Berkeley: Crossing Press, 1984, 2007), 110-114.

December 2, 2014Comments are off for this post.

Carlton Turner, Ashley Milburn and Ashley Minner on the Marc Steiner Show

West Baltimore: Looking Back, Looking Foward

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

October 24, 2014 – Segment 4

We close out the show with a discussion of ROOTSfest and an event reflecting on it, with: Carlton Turner, Executive Director of Alternate ROOTS; Ashley Milburn, Artist and Co-founder of Culture Works; and Ashley Minner, Community Artist and member of Alternate ROOTS Executive Committee.

July 25, 2014Comments are off for this post.

Connecting to Lumbee Heritage Through Art

Check out the photo essay one some of my work in my home community that was recently published by Open Society Institute Baltimore.

Photo by Colby Ware for OSI Baltimore 2014

Photo by Colby Ware for OSI Baltimore 2014

July 17, 2014Comments are off for this post.

Our own freedom on your freedom depends / de tu libertad depende nuestra propia libertad

I was granted Project Development funding by Alternate ROOTS to continue a collaboration between myself and another visual artist in Portobelo, Panama, Gustavo Esquina de la Espada.

I traveled to Panama for the first time in June 2012, through a ROOTS Artistic Assistance Professional Development grant. I chose to go to Portobelo to continue my research on the many intersections of the Indigenous and African Diasporas in the Americas. My interest in this subject was sparked by my recognition of similarities between my own people, the Lumbee Tribe of North Carolina and other communities I have visited through travels in the U.S. South and Global South.

The people of Portobelo are descendants of the Cimarrones, enslaved Africans who escaped their Spanish masters and lived together as outlaws in the jungle. One of the first parts of the “New World” to be pillaged, Christopher Columbus originally named the port "Puerto Bello," meaning "Beautiful Port," in 1502. The Cimarrones and their descendents, like the Lumbee, are a people of resistance. Like us, they are resilient, they are survivors, they are artists and we are related.

I met Gustavo through the Taller Portobelo Norte Artist Residency Program (Studio North, Portobelo). Gustavo is a talented multidisciplinary artist in his community. During my first stay, we collaborated on a painting, a portrait of Gustavo as a “Moderno Rey Cimarron Congo” or “Modern Cimarron Congo King.” Gustavo appears dressed in his contemporary soccer jersey as well as a traditional Cimarron crown, to the point that he is the living legacy of his ancestors. This piece was a continuation of the same concept I had been exploring through my Exquisite Lumbees series, which is comprised of illuminated life-sized portraits of Lumbee people of my generation, each dressed in clothing of their choice, each defying stereotypes about Lumbees and all Native people just by being visible, alive and effortlessly beautiful. All of these portraits speak to our truth of living/walking in two worlds; of being the living legacy of our people and honoring that in our contemporary existence.

I left Gustavo’s portrait in Panama with him, where it has been framed and displayed by photographer Sandra Eleta, who owns the taller or studio in Portobelo. Gustavo also sent one of his paintings home to Baltimore with me. I have now visited Panama two more times since 2012. Gustavo and I have maintained a constant dialogue and have taken next steps in our collaboration.

We are making a series of call and response pieces, including visual art and poetry. During this most recent visit, two new paintings were created, one by myself and one by Gustavo. Gustavo has written 3 new poems. These works have been inspired by our exchange and created in conversation with each other.

My painting is a portrait of our friend Manuel “Mayita” Betegon, who appears dressed in his Carnival costume as the character Pajarito or “Little Bird.” Traditionally, Pajariito was a person who played an important role in Cimarron society. He served as a messenger between the different Palenques or Cimarron communities in the jungle. He would travel on foot to bear news, good and bad, to the people. I chose to depict Pajarito to signify the connection that has been made between my community and Gustavo’s community. The message has been carried that both communities are well and are reconnecting.

Mayita has been asking me to draw his portrait since I’ve known him. When he saw the final piece, he was so proud. He plans to display his copy on the mantel of his home.

Pajarito, acrylic and charcoal on wood, 19.75 x 15.75" 2014

Pajarito, acrylic and charcoal on wood, 19.75 x 15.75" 2014

Below find Gustavo’s poem “Corre Corre Pajarito” in Spanish and Congo, as well as my English translation, “Run, run Pajarito”: 

Corre corre Pajarito
© Gustavo Esquina De La Espada, 2014 

Entre el bosque en el follaje se percibe un movimiento,
Agilidad de flecha en vuelo, la rapidez de sus pasos
se escucha cual repicar de tambores… corre, corre pajarito
se están robando el palenque. Corre, corre pajarito, mamonia
busca a nengre macha.

Personaje misterioso que trae tristeza y alegrías,
Tu penetrante mirada escudriña todo cuanto pasa alrededor y
Salvaguarda la bandera de los congos.
Corre, corre pajarito parte tierra; parte viento.

Corre, corre pajarito con lengua de fuego y hielo
que evoca al bien o al mal.
Corre, corre pajarito de tu libertad depende nuestra
propia libertad.

Run, Run, Pajarito
© Gustavo Esquina De La Espada, 2014

Within the forest, in the foliage, a movement is perceived
The agility of an arrow in flight, the speed of his steps
can be heard like the beating of drums… run, run pajarito
they’re robbing the palenque. Run, run pajarito, the devil
is looking for the Congos.

Mysterious person who brings sadness and joys,
Your penetrating gaze searches all as it passes around and
Safeguards the flag of the Congos.
Run, run Pajarito part the earth; part the wind.

Run, run Pajarito with tongue of fire and ice
that evokes good or bad.
Run, run Pajarito, our own freedom on your freedom depends.

While in Portobelo this past trip, I was able to attend the Festival de la Pollera Conga. This experience was a major affirmation that Lumbee and Congo cultural regalias, specifically the dresses, are very similar.

“A pollera is a Spanish term for a big one-piece skirt used mostly in traditional festivities and folklore throughout Spanish-speaking Latin America.  Polleras are made from different materials, such as cotton or wool and tend to have colorful decorations. Most of the decorations are embroidered, flowers and regional animals are among the most common designs found in polleras. Polleras are a form of Spanish colonial dress enforced sometime between the 16th and 17th centuries on indigenous populations…”

The polleras of Portobelo are very much like traditional Lumbee Pinecone Patchwork dresses. The design of the cotton Pinecone Patchwork dresses was adapted from English colonial dresses during the period when Lumbee identity was first formed through the cultural fusion that took place. The pinecone element of dresses and other pieces of pinecone regalia is usually done in appliqué and represents the pines of our North Carolina homeland.

My excitement over the similarities began some dialogue in Portobelo. The photos and artwork I brought home to show my fellow Lumbee also began dialogue here in Baltimore. An exchange via internet between young people of Portobelo and Lumbee young people of Baltimore has been ongoing since this last visit. I hope to one day take part in facilitating a face-to-face cultural exchange between young people of Portobelo and Lumbee young people from Baltimore.

We have long-term plans for Gustavo and other artists of Portobelo to travel to the United States. I am also very excited to report that my adopted “Mom” in Portobelo, Soledad Marín, will accompany her two daughters on their first visit to the U.S. in October as they will be performing in New York for a National Hispanic Heritage Month celebration. We plan to meet and visit at that time.

In alignment with the mission of Alternate ROOTS, this project is comprised of original art rooted in particular communities of place, tradition and spirit. It speaks to the elimination of oppression that has kept people of the Indigenous and African diasporas from recognizing and accepting our extended family. It speaks to the elimination of the oppression that has blinded our people to our own beauty, wisdom and strength. It speaks to the internalized oppression that at times keeps us from acknowledging the fullness of our heritages. It speaks to the revisitation of missed opportunities for fellowship and resource-sharing between our communities in the South and Global South. It reminds us of the fact that Native slaves were shipped from the U.S. South to the Caribbean and African slaves were shipped into both places. We have coexisted, resisted, intermarried at times, survived and thrived through generations of injustice and we’re still here. We’re still related.

It should be noted that most of this grant from Alternate ROOTS became a cash resource for the folks of Portobelo who graciously agreed to drive me around, let me stay at their house and feed me.

At the core of this entire project is the collaboration between myself, a member of the Lumbee Tribe of North Carolina and Gustavo Esquina de la Espada, a descendant of the Cimarrones of Portobelo, Panama. Our friendship and collaboration have been the gateway for all further cultural exchange between our peoples. The work would not exist if not for this most important link originally made possible by funding from Alternate ROOTS Artistic Assistance.

I will add that since the time of my last visit to Panama, I have been granted a full fellowship to attend the Ph.D. in American Studies Program at University of Maryland College Park. I have proposed to continue my research of the many intersections of the Indigenous and African diasporas in this formal setting. I imagine that more opportunities to further the project will come from my involvement in this program. It is my hope that my work will result in recognition, acceptance, reunion and coalition-building between all of our related communities as ultimately, the respective freedom and well-being of the communities is interdependent. “Our own freedom on your freedom depends.” / “De tu libertad depende nuestra propia libertad.