It's The Most Wonderful Time of the Year....Black History Month

My holiday calendar looks a little different than most. January 1 is Haitian Independence Day, so I start the year off with a Black a$$ bang. MLK Day is just a few weeks later, giving me a reason to keep the momentum going (thanks, Coretta). Then it’s just a few more weeks before the BEST MONTH OF THE YEAR: February. Black History Month. Shoutout to Carter G. Woodson who created Negro History Week in 1926, which turned into Black History Month in the 1970s.

On February 1, 2024, I had the honor to again bring the community together with my dear friend and colleague, Dr. RL Watson. We actually started the day in a generative and fun meeting with our partners at the History Center of Lake Forest-Lake Bluff, brainstorming the 2 year grant we just received from the National Archive of the United States. The day ended with 100+ students, faculty, staff, alumni, and local community members to celebrate the start of Black History Month. We got to honor the work we do as 1 of 5 African American Studies departments in the state of Illinois and elevate our growing number of majors and minors. It was EPIC to say the least! Special thanks to Cheryl Judice, LFC alum and owner of Hecky’s BBQ for the delicious nourishment.

This event will fuel the rest of the work I will do this month to honor the Black folks who did it big and continue to. Here are a list of upcoming talks I will do this month:

  • Monday February 5, 7pm: A History of Hip Hop (Grayslake Public Library)

  • Saturday February 17, 6pm: Istwa: Night of Story Telling, in partnership with Hatienne and the Haitian American Professional Network (Bar Louie on Polk Ave)

  • Monday February 19, 7pm: Researching Haitian Heritage (virtual event hosted by Arlington Heights Library)

  • Wednesday 21, 6:30pm: DuSable: Chicago’s Black Father (Evanston Public Library)

Although it’s the shortest month of the year, I love Black History Month. I love being Black. I love that my Blackness is rooted in Haiti. I love that I am a 1st generation Black American woman. I love the Black family I will eventually have with my husband. I love Black people, culture, jokes, history, books, media and so much more. So celebrate with me, if you really love Black people too. We get an extra day this year, so let’s make it count :)

PS: My birthday is my other favorite holiday. If you know, you know #beyday

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

It’s the start of 2024 (a new year) and while I do not necessarily believe in resolutions, I do believe in setting goals and intentions. My goals for this year are to continue to work hard but also REST and PLAY just as hard as I work.

During my last therapy session of 2023, my therapist pulled my card again: what is my relationship with work? In a capitalist system, how do I protect my health and sanity so that I can do my best work? What does it mean to focus on working in environments that respect and support my talents? Like, REALLY respect me as a Black woman? Not tokenize me or ask me to stifle my voice and self respect for the “greater good?”

As I ponder these hard questions, I am still processing the news of Claudine Gay’s resignation from one of the most elite institutions of higher education in the world. The first Black woman to ever be president there, Gay barely made is 6 months in the role. While op-eds and think pieces continue to roll out asking the why and how of this incident, I know the reasoning behind it well. Again, when does it want to work in an environment as a Black woman, especially in environments built to keep us out? It seems Gay chose her self-respect over a job, and I am proud see it.

In the words of the late, great Aretha Franklin, RESPECT me, cuz what you want, baby I GOT IT. I will think of this all year, and I hope many of my fellow Black women/femmes/folks in academia will do the same. Because we deserve.

On Civility

In the last several years, I have become more attune to buzzwords. Academic freedom. Law and order. Collegiality. Civility. The last one, civility, is especially problematic. Often, when one calls for civility, they are using dog whistle politics to deny people of color and other historically marginalized groups the freedom to speak their experiences. They want people who experience oppression to be nice about their activism: how dare you make folks feel bad for what they did to you?!

Colonialism, imperialism, anti-Black racism, and other forms of oppression are often deemed civil. It’s all about the way you harm people apparently, with decorum and all that.

Just because you harm people with a smile and the use of “proper English” does not make it any more harmful. Just because you are dressed in a suit and have a fancy title does not mean you are automatically civil. Just because you call something civil does not make it so.

I’ve been called uncivil and disrespectful for speaking truth to power. And I’ll be uncivil until the day I die, if that’s the case. I’d rather have my integrity than be “civil.” And that’s on Ida B. Wells.

Ghana 2023: Diaspora Adventures

I crossed 2 things off my bucket list this summer: seeing Beyonce live and going to Africa—Ghana to be exact (because remember, Africa is a continent, not a country). While both were transformative, Ghana really changed me. My dear advisor, mentor, and friend, Dr. Erik McDuffie, told me I would be different because of this trip, and as usual, he was right.

I spent about a week in Ghana as part of the 2023 ASWAD (Association for the Study of the Worldwide African Diaspora) Conference, dedicated to bringing Black scholars together just a few short years after the year of return was marked in 2019. I cannot deny the ball of nerves in my belly as I planned the trip. I vacillated between the excitement of finally going, the anxiety of first world fears (I really am glad I did not get that rabies shot), anticipation of the long travel, and overall shock that I was really doing it. When my husband dropped me off at the airport, I felt like I was going on a real adventure.

And yet, after almost 24 hours of travel, I felt so normal in Ghana, like I had been there before. While it reminded me of Haiti in many ways, it also felt unique and yet familiar. To be Black was not to be Other in the same way as it was back home in the States, and yet, I also knew I was American. Maybe that is what the DuBoises felt like, I wondered as I visited the final home of one of my historical baes. The tour guide must have smelled the fangirl on me when he asked me to read out of one of DuBois’ books in his 1000+ collection. Standing in his office, reading his reflections on birthdays (one of our shared life favorites) was one of the many moments that I can mark as life-altering.

So yeah, this trip changed me, in all the ways. Professionally, I was enriched and reminded that I am indeed a scholar! My Illinois family and the other scholars I encountered reminded me that I have an author voice and spirit, so I better get this book done. As an educator, teaching about the transatlantic slave trade will never be the same. Seeing Elmina Castle and Cape Coast Castle was unbelievable and yet so raw and true; I felt the ancestors in my whole body, head to toe. The ones who survived are in me, carrying the memories of the ones who did not make it past the doors of no return. It is as real today as it was centuries ago. As is the trauma: personally, I reflected on the ways diaspora means connections and disconnections. Things that are lost and gained: family, ancestry, names, histories, cultures. Kinship born out of necessity, as I have seen it function in my own life. This hard healing is needed.

So thank you Ghana and ASWAD….you only beat out Beyonce by a little bit though ;)

TWO TIMES! Advisor of the Year Award

The semester ended this week (at least the teaching part), and it has been quite the academic year. This time of year is always refreshing, as it is a reminder to celebrate one’s achievements, culminating in commencement. I was reminded again how incredible my students are and have been: they nominated me for the Advisor of the Year award. I won it in 2019, and I was honored to receive it again this year.

“The Advisor of the Year Award is presented to the faculty or staff member who has served as an official advisor to a registered college student organization and has gone above-and-beyond their duties to ensure the organization’s success. The successful candidate will have contributed significant time, energy, and resources. This recipient should actively mentor the students within the organization, and be someone to whom the students look for support and direction. Through their work with the organization, this nominee should cultivate the leadership of the members.”

To hear my name called in 2019 and then again this year at the awards ceremony inspired joy, relief, and love within me. My students and community see me. My work is for them, so for them to receive it is truly a gift. Whether it’s a text, an email, an IG message, running into them around campus, seeing them in class, having coffee or lunch with them, and all the in between, the relationships I have built with my students and mentees is what grounds me.

My mentee motto is a call back to one of my favorite Jay-Z quotes: “Hov did that, so hopefully you won’t have to go through that.” Dr. J. did to that, so hopefully you won’t have to, but even if you do, I still got your back.

Writing a book is hard.

It has officially been 10 years since I have started working on my dissertation-turned-first book. A whole decade. Time is really funny that way; a reminder of both how long and short things feel. I have given so much time, energy, words, edits, tears, and more to this project, and yet, it seems I have to gear up to give much more before my baby is finally published and out in the world.

I got my reader reports back on the first full draft of the book last week (after about 6 months) and let’s just say, the feedback is a split. While one reader said I had some work to do, the other said I had ALL the work left to do. The rage and disappointment I felt sent me running to my community of scholars and support. As my mom so aptly said, “Well, Courtney, just take your time.” Again, time is really a funny thing.

My scholarship is personal, and I am glad for that. My love for my work is what keeps me going, even when it gets hard. This book WILL eventually come out, and even if I have a few more gray hairs when it does, I’ll be able to say I finally did it. Hopefully, it’s not another decade from now, but again, time is a funny thing.

Tenure Part II

My last post captured my feelings as I was ending my tenure process. I can proudly say that since then, I have earned tenure, signed sealed delivered in writing. I will be an Associate Professor starting September 2023, joining the 2.1% of other Black women unicorns at universities and colleges across the country.

And yet, the last month of my tenure process was quite tumultuous. I found out after my decision was announced that several “colleagues” tried to tank my case at the last minute. My public history work was questioned for being “less rigorous” (and thus less valuable) than “real academic history.” Emails and discussions were had behind closed doors where I was called “uncivil” and “disrespectful” for speaking truth to power about my existence as part of a hyper visible hyper minority at a PWI. And if all that were not enough, the confidentiality of my process was breached, leading to that uncomfortably familiar question: Did this happen because I was Black?

I know folks tried to steal my joy, my shine in a momentous and historic win. And yet, as Austin Channing Brown reminds me, I am still here. And I’m not going anywhere without making that decision for myself.

Tenure

Since childhood, I have been an over-achiver. I blame it on being the child of immigrants, the baby of the family with two extremely high achieving older siblings, and a double Virgo. Put a challenge in front of me, especially academically, and I want to smash it, go above and beyond, kill the game. Each victory felt like I was doing my people proud and thus worthy of praise, love, etc.

Now, here I am, 3 degrees in and finishing the last few steps to become an associate professor. It feels good to be here, another major challenge accomplished (almost). But, this time, I am proudest of my evolution. I have changed so much in these 5.5 years. I have found my voice, my power, my gift. I love teaching and learning about Black history more than I ever knew I could, and I have made some deep connections with folks. I have produced the first draft of my first book and been invited to speak at places I’ve never imagined. I have been challenged, rageful, inspired, and more me than I have ever been in my entire life. This has been the true gift of the tenure process.

So whatever happens with this decision after my interview this week., I still know I killed the game, and this time, it was for me.

Happy Fall 2022!

It is my favorite month of the year (my birthday month) and the start of the new academic year. This fall is HUGE for me: I am going up for tenure, submitting the first full draft of my book manuscript, and speaking at several events. If you are around, come check me out (deets below)!

“Saving the Unsaved Stories: Doing Oral History in Chicago”— Thursday September 15, 7pm, Lake Forest College

“DuSable in the Chicago Landscape”—Sunday, October 2, 9:30am, Alliance Francaise de Chicago (French Heritage Society Conference “Hidden in Plain Sight”)

“Finding William Peyton: Early Black Presence at Lake Forest College”—Friday, October 7, 2pm, History Center of Lake Forest-Lake Bluff

“Exodus: Black Midwestern Diasporas”—Friday, October 21, 3:45pm, Wayne Country Community College (Presence and Protest: The Second Biennial Black Midwest Symposium)

In Conversation with Margaret Burnham on her new book, “By Hands Now Known: Jim Crow’s Legal Executioner”—Saturday, October 29, 3pm, Chicago Humanities Festival

Dr. Angela Davis wants my book.

In January of this year, I had the amazing opportunity to be in conversation with one of my idols, Dr. Angela Davis. I was my first year in college (2004-2005) when I first encountered her autobiography, and I was immediately changed. Like many people, I rocked my natural hair in resistance, fashioning myself after Dr. Davis. When I became a professor in 2017, I hung a picture of Dr. Davis in my office to give me hope and inspiration.

Who knew that just a few years later, I would get to thank her for personally for all she has done for me. Dr. Davis was more gracious, brilliant, and engaging as I had imagined, and she honored me by the end, encouraging me to finish my first book so that she could read it. I have a post-it note on my computer that reminds me of that everyday.

Sometimes, dreams do come true!