Sick and Tired of Being Sick and Tired

One of my favorite Black ancestors is Fannie Lou Hamer. A sharecropper turned activist, Hamer did not let the stress and violence of the Jim Crow era stop her from fighting for civil rights aka human dignity. She is credited with the quote “I am sick and tired of being sick and tired” and she may as well have been a rapper too because those are some of the strongest bars ever spit.

Hamer has been on my mind a lot lately. I am officially in grading season, meaning my first academic year after sabbatical is coming to a close. And what a rough year it has been. Between the state of world affairs (aka living in a crumbling empire) and campus politics mirroring American politics, I am exhausted. It also doesn’t help that I am currently in physical therapy for a pinched nerve in my neck, and I am wearing a splint on my finger due to a torn tendon.

Maybe that’s why my students called me their “backbone” on campus. Indeed, my students have seen my struggles as the only Black woman teaching full time at my institution. They recently honored me with a plaque reading:

“Dr, Courtney Joseph. Thank you for being a leader, advocate, [and] backbone. We feel seen, we feel heart, we feel valued. From your students <3”

I hung this plaque up in my home office as a reminder of my impact. And to take care of myself. This summer will be for self care, making a little extra money, writing, and preparing for some exciting career changes coming this fall. I need it. Maybe I can recover a bit from that sick and tired I am feeling.

Humanizing Historical Figures

In the last couple of weeks, I’ve gotten the opportunity to speak at a couple of dope venues: the 12th Biennial Conference for ASWAD (Association for the Study of the Worldwide African Diaspora) and the Ida B. Wells Lecture at the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign (sponsored by their department of African American Studies). At ASWAD, I participated in a panel discussion on my mentor, Erik McDuffie’s second book, The Second Battle for Africa. The book calls us to think about how Garveyism spread across space and time, centering how Black women in the US and Africa made sure the revolutionary message of Black freedom shaped Black politics through the 1980s. It is a masterful historical narrative that is both personal and political—such an inspiration as I finally get ready to resubmit my book manuscript (a full revamp!) to a new and interested publisher. Send good vibes and prayers, y’all!

One thing I loved most about McDuffie’s book is his treatment of Louise Little, Malcolm X’s mother. We get to know her more and thus get to Malcolm more, which is a feat for a popular but often misrepresented figure in Black history. Humanizing historical figures like Louise Little is so very important to our job as historians. In the name of “objectivity,” historians often idolize and freeze people of the past which makes them inaccessible to our students and the general public. For instance, Martin Luther King Jr. often gets depicted in black and white, a fallen angel who lived perfectly and precisely. Someone so special that no one else can ever do what he did. But that’s not true. MLK died when he was my age. Killed, martyred. An imperfect person who did his best to spark change, using his talents and community to do so.

I love humanizing historical figures. At my recent talk at U of I (my 3x alma mater), I got really wonderful feedback on my ability to humanize the people I study. Namely, folks got to better know Freddy D, aka Frederick Douglass, through me. I am a Freddy D stan. Yes, he was arguably the most famous African American of the 19th century, the most photographed American of that century, a prolific author and orator who played a major role in bringing about the end of chattel slavery in the US. But he was also an imperfect husband, a man with a killer Afro, a person who fell in love with Haiti at the end of his life, a mentor to younger activists, and a fitness enthusiast who had weights by his bed. Knowing the fullness of Freddy D or Louise Little reminds us that we are the change makers of era, if we want to be. We can grow and evolve and mess up, and still make a difference. People can remember us and sing our name while also critiquing our mistakes and holding us accountable.

It’s a hope I have for us all, and I call my fellow historians to humanize our subjects. They are not stuck in the past, they are with us now and we can learn from them. We must make them accessible, especially now.

Public History in the Current Age

I love documentaries. I watch them for fun, regularly show them in class, and aspire to make one someday. Documentaries make histories accessible to folks who may not have the drive to read (although, please do read!) through primary and secondary sources. Histories are about telling nuanced and compelling narratives, and the visual medium of the documentary is a perfect fit for such a goal.

So, you can only imagine how I felt when the folks at WTTW PBS (Chicago’s local station) asked me to take part in a documentary on Chicago’s lakefront. Hosted by the illustrious Geoffrey Bauer, Touring Chicago’s Lakefront explores the history, the hidden gems, and the unique character of this urban oasis. I got to share my knowledge on DuSable and the 1919 Chicago Race Riot. The entire experience was a career highlight: I felt respected by professionals who were also kind and welcoming. Bauer and his entire team were fantastic to work with, and I am so appreciative of the experience.

Documentaries and other public history mediums are critical, especially right now. History is FOR EVERYONE, whether folks believe that or not. Governmental pressures, the elevation of certain STEM majors and careers, and technological innovations have only increased the importance of looking at our past with frank and open eyes. The push for romanticized and sanitized fairy tales that make us feel good about ourselves is dangerous, to say the least. And it only makes SOME of us feel good…

So, I encourage folks to dig deep into some history—read, watch, listen. You’ll learn something, get some historical tea, and most importantly, be able to defend your humanity against fascism.

Black History Month 2025...What A Time

I am writing this blog post in the days after the 2025 presidential election. I will not spend time expressing the stakes of this moment (it’s bad ya’ll, as we knew it would be), but instead, I will honor the work that I will continue to do as the Third Reconstruction of the US comes to an end (shoutout to my brilliant friend and collaborator, Dr. RL Watson for that apt revelation).

If you are looking to get some good and nourishing Black knowledge during February 2025, here is where you can catch me:

I have a few private/closed talks happening as well, one at DePaul University and another at Aurora High School. For my ancestors and future children, I will continue to use my voice to teach real history, with radical honesty and joy. The resistance continues, and I hope you will join me.

Haitians deserve so much better.

My people are back in the news cycle again, and this time it’s because we “eat cats and dogs.” This dangerous rhetoric has real consequences but is not new. Haitians have been subject to lies, stereotypes, and negative propaganda for over 200 years because of their refusal to remain enslaved. The 1804 moment reverberates in the way Haitians are treated and seen: stories of a backwards and evil land filled with gangs, earthquakes, illnesses, and massive poverty cover up the long history of embargoes, reparation payments, military occupations, illegal interventions, constitutional revisions, and more.

I am a fiercely proud Haitian American, a Black woman and historian who has dedicated her life’s work to challenging these narratives that pervade our politics, media, churches, and history books. So I always take the opportunity to speak truth about Haitians, including this recent article. I do this in honor of my ancestors (like Jean Jacques Dessalines, pictured with this post) and my community, in the diaspora and on the island. And I do this so the people who do get to read my work or hear me speak know to ignore the lies.

L’union fait la force. I love you, Ayiti.

Haitian Revolutionary, Jean Jacques Dessalines (image from Haitiwonderland.com)

Sabbatical Plans and Unplans

I am about 6 weeks into my post-tenure sabbatical, and I am recalibrating. What does it look like to have 1 job (as a scholar) instead of 14 (as a professor, advisor, administrator, mentor, equity consultant, advocate, grader, etc)? Over the next year, I plan to finish a second draft of my first book and find a new publisher for it. I also have 2 other research projects I am working on (Haitian oral histories and Black presence at Lake Forest College), and the public history invites continue to roll in. So yes, I will still be busy.

At the same time, I know I need to prioritize rest. Tricia Hersey’s Nap Ministry reminds me that rest is necessary and revolutionary, especially in these times. And truly, I am exhausted. Since 2010, I have been running the graduate school and career race non stop, while also trying to figure out who I am between my 20s and early 30s. So much has changed in the last 14 years, and I want to use this sabbatical to honor that journey. The best way to do that is rest.

So, I also plan to spend days lounging, watching my favorite shows (the Power universe has me in a chokehold), taking long walks with my baby beagle, napping, cooking, communing, and not living on a strict schedule (which is so hard for my Virgo self!). I know that the recipe to reducing my stress is by resting and protecting my time. So if you see me over this next year, remind me to rest!

Teacher Is the Case that They Gave Me: Musings of a Black Woman Educator

The class of 2024 honored me with the Great Teacher Award this year. As part of this award, I gave a speech at the senior honors convocation on Friday, May 10, 2024. Since this was an invite only event, I have included a YouTube link of the speech here and the text of the speech below. This is dedicated to class of 2024 near and far and in solidarity to my students who were censored during commencement yesterday for asserting their human right to speech and protest.

Good afternoon everyone. What a monumental day, and I’m so excited to share this achievement with you all. When I found out I won this award, based on your votes, I was so honored. My dear friend and colleague, RL Watson, inspired me with this 🔥 title, in honor of my love of Hip Hop, which is having its own special moment (shoutout to Kendrick Lamar Duckworth and Megan Jovon Ruth Peters every day). As I accept this award today for Best Teacher, I want to first thank me, just like Snoop Dogg when he got a Hollywood Star, marking his complete journey from real gangsta rapper to pop culture icon

Yes, best teacher was the case that you, the class of 2024, gave me. And I accept the charges, proudly. But it’s not just y’all who gave me this case. Here are a few others:

  • My family: teachers in my family, my aunties; tutoring my cousins during summers

  • My ancestors: Black folks LOVE education, Haitian people like my parents left their home for their kids to pursue education

  • My community: my community of teachers keep me sharp; we care about teaching as an art, a skill, that one refines over time. Going back to my daycare teaching days, my first out of college job, then all that babysitting, nannying, YMCA coordinating…I’ve learned from teachers for over 15 years, and I hope I have inspired them to think about education as serious business, something to take seriously.

Since this is a commencement event, I wanted to impart some advice and adulting tips for class of 2024 from a Black woman millennial educator:

  • Y’all started school in 2020, the worst of times, so have NO FEAR. Nina Simone (a true OG), once said, you know what real freedom is? No fear! Times are wild, so be FREE. Don’t worry about what society or others tell you do to, the status quo no longer applies.

  • Stand on business: Have a code, like Omar from The Wire (RIP to another OG, Michael K Williams). Here is a bit of my code.

      • Be decent and respectful to people. You do not have to like or agree with someone to respect them. As my dad always says, I’m not better than anybody but nobody is better than me either. And that’s bars.

      • Say what you mean and mean what you say. Cuz word is bond (and that’s on the Wu, and you know they ain’t nothing to play with)

      • Be accountable aka be ok to be wrong and to learn from it. We all mistakes/have messy fumbles, but it’s how we respond that really matters. In the words of Prophet GloRilla, every day the Sun don’t shine, but that’s why I love tomorrow.

      • Have a backbone. You need one to “stand 10 toes down” as y’all like to say, which ties well to my next piece of advice….

  • Be brave: Being an adult is about doing hard things and being brave about it. No one really knows what they’re doing, but some are trying more than others. Y’all have made me braver. To use my voice against injustice and oppression near and far. So I cannot leave here today without taking stock of our present moment. Hands of Haiti, Free Palestine, Free Sudan, Free Congo. Free all unjust prisoners and stop police brutality. Protect trans and queer people, believe survivors and Black Lives always have and always will matter. I’m sure saying these things has made some folks uncomfortable and angry, but teaching is not about making folks comfortable. It’s about encouraging people to face hard truths and be better because of it.

  • Love Yourself: As I stand here before you today, I can say I love myself again for the first time in decades.  I used to be a confident kid but let external voices dampen that. (Tell baby stories about knowing I was cute and smart) Folks close to me and that I did not even know popped shots, and I let that chip away at my self-love. I’ve been told I’m too angry, too aggressive, too emotional, too much in general. As a Black woman in the academy, I found myself navigating similar messages and I have learned firsthand that this space is not about building folks up. Especially not people who look like me and teach about what I teach about. Yet, for the last several years, I have been on a real journey, back to loving myself. And it has been hard, humbling, and continually tested. But, I can’t stop loving me now. And I really hope you all do the same, because no one can love and respect you like you do.

So as I close out. I want to give you all a chance to be like Snoop: thank yourself, class of 2024. Cuz y’all did it big. And I thank you for seeing me do it big too and letting me rock this mic. Congrats and many blessings on your next steps!

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 partner 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!