The Intuitionists by Colin Whitehead

There are a few living authors who are still writing whose work is so compelling that I seek out their new work, and in this case, am working on the books they wrote before I fell hard for them as a reader. The first book I read was Sag Harbor, and while it didn't knock my socks off as a work of fiction per se, it was so unusual in terms of the setting and subject, an entry into a world that is likely well known to African Americans but was completely unknown to me. So when I saw this on a "Staff Picks" table at my local library, I picked it up, and I would encourage you to do so as well. This book, his first, is set in a steampunky alternate mid-20th century, where elevators are the most important public conveyances in the world, and the people who inspect them basically run the city. There are two types of elevator inspectors: the first is the Empiricists (i.e. the traditionalists), who use close physical examinations to make their inspections, measuring and checking and confirming with evidence. The second type of inspectors are the Intuitionists, who inspect elevators (lifts) not by measuring anything, but by riding the elevators and feeling, sensing, knowing, what is happening to the machine in the parts they cannot see--there is some allegorical magic to be had here, as well as some manipulation for political gain. The protagonist of the novel is Lila Mae Watson, the first black woman to be employed by the city as an elevator (lift) inspector. She is also an intuitionist. As a “representative” of three different types of progressivism within the city, she is constantly being watched. To be an intuitionist is to be in the minority, to be black and an intuitionist is to be in a tiny minority, but to be black, female and an intuitionist makes her a truly unique individual. The corrupt, conservative, boss of the inspectorate want to make an example of her failing, and likewise their rival factions are keen for her to succeed.

Codes of the Underground Railroad

There is a fair amount of disagreement about whether quilts were used as codes on the Underground Railroad. The evidence in the affirmative comes from oral history, passed down through families over time. We know that stories that families tell are like a game of Telephone, you hear what you want to hear and disregard the rest, but on the other hand, slave stories were largely oral history. They were not taught to write and they weren't allowed to be literate so while there were those who defied that, the majority could not.

There is agreement that spirituals were important as communication of the railroad to the north and that there were codes within them that helped in planning and navigating your way northward. The North Star pattern at least reflects the importance of the Big Dipper in helping escaped slaves navigate at night. The destination for many slaves was Ohio. Cleveland was known as 'Hope', but was also a crossroads for slvaes traveling from the south and from the west to get passage northward--I know this pattern as Jacob's Ladder, and made it over 35 years ago for my eldest son. I also made him a Monkey Wrench quilt, another symbol stemming from slavery. The blacksmiths on plantations were slaves, and they were the slaves who were afforded more privlege than field workers--it is plausible they were the local communicators. There is so much we don't know.

Connie Martin spoke to my quilt guild, and she tells the stories passed down to her great-grandmother Lizzie of how her family survived the antebellum period through trials and tribulations, and how they used quilts that contained hidden codes and secret messages to assist abolitionists–white and black–to guide enslaved people to freedom through the Underground Railroad to Canada. During this presentation, Connie shared eighteen different quilt patterns in replica quilts and refers to a book her mother, Dr. Clarice Boswell, wrote about their family called Lizzie’s Story: A Slave Family’s Journey to Freedom.

The United States Governed by Six Hundred Thousand Despots by John Swanson Jacobs

The story behind this publication is in some ways cooler than the book itself and perfect for Juneteenth. Schroeder, who wrote the biography of the author that is included in this publication, is a literary historian, and he knew the story of Harriet Jacobs, the abolitionist who famously wrote about her life and abuse while enslaved, her secret relationship with a white politician and her escape to freedom in the 1800s. Schroeder searched a database of historical documents for details on Harriet's son. He wasn't getting far, so he tried another search term focused on Harriet's brother, Johnathan S. Jacobs. That is how he stumbled upon an autobiography by John Swanson Jacobs, first published in Australia in 1855 and largely lost to time - until now. Six hundred thousand despots is a reference to the number of slave owners in the U.S. at the time. John Swanson Jacobs was born in 1815 in Edenton, N.C., and he was born a sixth-generation slave. Today, he's a footnote in the life of his older sister, Harriet Jacobs, who is the best-known Black female author of the 19th century. He was an abolitionist in the U.S. and U.K. He was a gold miner in California and Australia. He was a sailor on four oceans and four continents. And he was an expat for nearly all of his free life. He had become a gold miner after the passage of the Fugitive Slave Act in 1850. He left the U.S. for California, and then for Australia, which was going through its own gold rush at the same time as America's gold rush. And he eventually struck it rich or at least did well in the Australian gold rush. And that gave him a rare moment of time off from the kind of labor that dominated most of his life to go to Sydney and to finish the life story that he had begun practicing in the 1840s as an abolitionist in William Lloyd Garrison's Boston and Frederick Douglass' Rochester. This is a recreation of his autobiography, and then a biography of what we know about him now with the help of time.

Good Dirt by Charmaine Wilkerson

In the interest of full disclosure, I loved Black Cake, the author's first book, so much that it would be hard to compete with that in this, her second book. That said, this has a lot of the appealing story telling that the first book did, and well as an emphasis on traditions of the past and their link to the present, but for me the story was not as well constructed, and the ending was both abrupt and unsatisfying. Would I read her next book? Absolutely, and I do recommend this one as well. The book begins in 2000 as we witness the tragic home invasion of the Freeman house in Massachusetts where not only their cherished family heirloom (a jar thrown by an enslaved potter in the 1800s) is broken but ten-year-old Ebony’s brother Baz is shot and killed at the young age of fifteen. There is a lot of unwanted publicity around it and when, 20 years later, Ebbie is stood up at the altar by Henry it all resurfaces and she ducks out of the country to get away from it all. The past follows her though--the profound loss of her brother, the significance of the pottery jar that has been in her family since the mid-nineteenth century and Henry, who turns up at her rented cottage in France. The weaving of the story together is one that I like, with the significance of generational trauma playing a role in the present being something I enjoy in a book, and that I see in my professional life. Check this one out, and if you haven't read Black Cake, read this first.

House of Eve by Sadeqa Johnson

This is a 2023 pick by Reese Witherspoon, whose monthly book choices reflect books that are written by women about women, and this certainly fits that bill. It has been hailed as historical fiction, which is true, it is set in post WWII America and focuses on the experience of two black women, one poor, the other working class, and what it was like to be young, black, talented, but with limited resources in a time where there was not much in the way of reproductive options, nor was abortion legal. The problem with reading this in 2025 is that it feels very precarious for women right now, and that all the social dilemmas and prejudices are being invited back at the national level. This is not a disaster driven novel--unfortunate things happen, but the two women are both talented and driven to the point where the reader can see that they will prevail--but others are not so fortunate, and this is somehow a mix between historical fiction and a cautionary tale. I very much enjoyed it--and it is a Good Reads Challenge pick as well.

Bianca Springer--Thanks I Made Them!

I skipped lectures at QuiltCon for a number of reasons—I wanted time with the quilts in the exhibit was the main one—between classes and the exhibit, I have no additional time. Then the auditorium set up is not my favorite for lectures—too big, too distracting and not enough bang for my buck. Finally, the on site experience is a sensory overload, whereas at home I can watch in an ideal environment. The only downside is that there is a limited time within which to watch the lectures, and this one was the last one I had a chance to watch. Bianca has a passion for garment making that is impressive. She is an inveterate upcycler who haunts thrift shops for vintage patterns as well as fabric, quilt tops, and quilts. She talked a bit about how she approaches making a quilt made by someone else into a garment. She tries to honor the spirit of the design the maker had in mind—which she is amazing at—and then points out that if she is buying it, no one who knew the maker is making space in their life for that quilt, so she is giving it a new life it wouldn’t otherwise have. She went on to walk the viewer through how to pick a pattern, how to make the garment, and the various ways you could make and embellish pieced clothing. It was very inspiring and I would seek out a talk by her in the future.

Rachel Clark's Quilt Coats

I am taking a class with this artist in June and I wanted to watch her QuiltCon lecture to get a sense of both her work and what I am in for when I spend two days with her. She brought over twenty coats that were modeled by four different volunteers, and it was feast for the eyes. She grew up with garment makers in her family, but Rachel’s life as a quilter didn’t fully blossom until she got married to her husband, Gary, and moved from New Orleans, Louisiana to Watsonville, California in the early 1970s. After this long-distance move, she found herself without community for the first time.

Clark discovered that even though she wasn’t very good at approaching people and striking up conversations, she was very good at designing clothing that could serve as an excellent conversation piece. People will approach you to talk about what you wear—she did say in her talk that you should not wear it if you need to run through an airport—people who want to ask you about your jacket will just slow you down and you could miss your plane. Clark loved both dressmaking and quilting, and didn't feel the need to choose between the two. She explored the possibility of combining them to make unique clothes with quilting techniques. People were interested in her clothes, and in turn, interested in her. She used clothing to “invite people in.” Well, I share some of these traits with her—not the creative one or the garment maker one—the shy with people I don’t know one—and I hope this pieced garment phase I am about to enter will be a good one for me.

Sing Sing (2024)

This is--weirdly--a feel good prison movie. It does not romantacize prison. Prison in this movie is a cold, cruel place full of violent men whose daily life revolves around trying not to antagonize the alpha dogs within the prison population or the guards looming over them. Rather it is a story about a group men serving time in prison whose participation in a theater arts program gives them something to look forward to and improves them as human beings. Colman Domingo, who deservedly received an Oscar Nomination for his role, plays Divine G, one of many real people who went through the program. He was an actor and aspiring playwright in high school before his life went off the rails. He’s a devotee of theater, loves to act and read plays, and approaches it all with the quiet fervor of somebody who found religion behind bars. Some of the most memorable images in this movie focus on Domingo’s face in closeup as Divine G performs, thinks, or silently observes others. The movie is upbeat. The scenes are allowed to play out in a way that feels real, especially in the drama club meetings. Participants are shown rehearsing scenes, talking about their meaning and construction, giving each other notes on how to perform the material, and talking about how the art informs their lives and how their lives inform their performances. The end effect is lasting and hopeful, despite all the hate being poured on people of color in the current administration, may we survive it.

The Six Triple Eight (2024)

There is a lot to like about this movie, especially if you are a bit of a Tyler Perry fan--I admit that there is a lot of melodrama in his writing and directing, but he is a star when it comes to telling stories about African-Americans and his actors are largely black, which I appreciate. This is based on a true story of the women of the all-Black 6888th Central Postal Directory Battalion who faced ruthless racism while serving during World War II. It is told through the eyes of Lena Derriecott King, a woman who joins up after her true love is killed in action, and Major Charity Adams, her commanding officer. The situation is this--the black regiment is marginalized in blatantly racist ways--but then Mary McLeod Bethune, a close personal friend of First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt, took up their cause and volunteers them for a Herculean task. Mail was not leaving the front and it wasn't being delivered there either and it was easy to relate to the idea that it was causing morale problems for the troops and a lot of anxiety for loved ones at home. Ms. Bethune, who was able to advance the stature of African American women through her friendship with Roosevelt, put forth that the 6888 could do the task of sorting the mail--which they did, despite enormous obstacles, both real and manufactured. They were the only black women to serve in Europe during the war, and the end of the movie shows a number of them who are still alive today--at 100 years old, more or less. This is nominated for an Academy Award in the Original Song category, and you have to watch to the end to listen to it.

Sandra Lee Design

I took a class with Sandra Lee Chandler at the Chaska Area Quilt Club's fall show this year, and I was very impressed with her as both an artist and as a teacher. Here is what she has to say about herself on her website Sandra Lee Designs: "With over 35 years of teaching experience and multiple accolades as a textile artist under my belt, including serving as a Bernina Ambassador, Aurifil Color Builder Designer, and appearing on The Quilt Show and Quilting Arts TV, I've learned the secret of happiness - there is no pre-written pattern to life! This realization, in conjunction with my strong passion for fiber art and teaching, propelled me to create Sandra Lee Design, a Creative space where makers can gather to experiment, collaborate, and inspire one another to push their creative boundaries. There is so much more to art than just the end product Art is vibrant and diverse, and it holds the power to serve as a reflection of what means the most to you." I took a class to make a jacket, but her identified specialty areas are making denim quilts and clothing and teaching the Sashiko and Boro methods of stitching. She is an avid upcycler who has a great eye and shares her thoughts and ideas freely. I would highly recommend taking a class with her, and I would travel again to do so myself.

The Color Purple (2023)

This is a brutal story and changing it into a musical but remaining faithful to the story is a challenge that worked for me, but was not a home run. Music and The Color Purple have always had a close relationship, even before Alice Walker’s Pulitzer Prize–winning 1982 novel became a hit Broadway musical in 2005. A blues singer is one of its main characters, a juke joint a key setting. Then there was the musicality of the novel’s literary style; Walker was already a published poet by the time she had written her first novel. The hit 1985 Steven Spielberg adaptation of her novel (the only version I am familiar with), was co-produced and scored by the legendary Quincy Jones, introduced the sensuous ragtime anthem “Miss Celie’s Blues,” which has been covered endlessly since. This musical expands on this idea, working its palette of blues, gospel, and jazz surprisingly seamlessly into a story that, at least on its surface, might initially seem too brutal for big, jubilant numbers--and that for me is the sticking point. I loved the music and the choreographed scenes--much more than I would have imagined--but it was hard to marry that feeling with the underlying story of men's brutality against women. On top of that, it is not a particularly intimate or introspective musical; its numbers are big, very much meant to be sung to a big audience, maybe even to have the audience sing them back to the stage or the screen. The story of Celie's brutalized life, and her eventual escapr is all too real, still happening to women across the country and around the world, and when all is said and done, not entertaining for me.

The Dead Are Arising by Les Payne

Malcolm X's autobiography has sold millions of copies since it was published in the aftermath of its author’s assassination and it shaped how we view the fiery black revolutionary traveling from street criminal to statesman. This biography, which is the results of decades of work, sets out to provide a much fuller picture of the life and death of Malcolm X, drawing on interviews with his friends and family to assess his contribution in the context of the times. It is as much a history of US race relations as it is a biography of the black revolutionary. The opening chapters focus on the world and family Malcolm X was born into, exploring the emergence of the Ku Klux Klan and the climate of racial terrorism that prevailed after the US civil war. Malcolm’s mother and father, Louise and Earl Little, met in the Universal Negro Improvement Association and were high up enough in this, one of the most important black organizations of the 20th century, that its leader Marcus Garvey would spend time working at their home. As a child, Malcolm would listen to his father preaching the Garveyite tenets of black pride, independence and repatriation to Africa. His parents’ influence was at the core of the Malcolm who became famous. Malcolm never really changed: his “basic philosophy was Garveyism” from childhood to the grave. The rise and fall of the Nation of Islam in Malcolm X's live and leading ultimately to his assassination is well chronicled, as are some truisms he posited (most memorable for me was his reframing of the issue of interracial sex, pointing out that white men have been reproducing with black women for centuries in the United States, and that the issue is white women. White men don't want them to have the same. Good point). Malcolm X developed one of the most sophisticated understandings of racism and also a practical, global, radical program in response. He saw through the false promises of reform and that we need to look for radical solutions.

Three Girls From Bronzville by Dawn Turner

This memoir is set in an historically Black neighborhood, a bit of land on Chicago’s South Side known as Bronzeville, and three Brown girls – the author, her sister, Kim Turner, and best friend Debra Trice – who were shaped by this milieu while growing up in the 1970s. Their families moved northward in the Great Migration, escaping the lynchings and unpredictable violence of the Jim Crow South. Dawn, Debra and Kim all had a leg up in life, as so-called children of the dream: the first generation to realize the hard-won freedoms of the civil rights movement. But only Turner was able to grab hold of the advantages, entering the University of Illinois at Urbana on the early tide of affirmative action, one of just a thousand African American students in a sea of 34,500. They were raised in the same environment, a land of milk and honey soured by neglect both benign and intentional — redlining, contract buying and other policies that extracted Black wealth, opportunity and hope. They ended up with entirely different fates, and the author takes the reader through each of them while trying to make sense of it all.

The Good Part, That Shall Not Be Taken Away by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Longfellow wrote a body of work that the proceeds of went to the Anti-Slavery movement, and this is one of those poems. She dwells by Great Kenhawa's side, In valleys green and cool; And all her hope and all her pride Are in the village school. Her soul, like the transparent air That robes the hills above, Though not of earth, encircles there All things with arms of love. And thus she walks among her girls With praise and mild rebukes; Subduing e'en rude village churls By her angelic looks. She reads to them at eventide Of One who came to save; To cast the captive's chains aside And liberate the slave. And oft the blessed time foretells When all men shall be free; And musical, as silver bells, Their falling chains shall be. And following her beloved Lord, In decent poverty, She makes her life one sweet record And deed of charity. For she was rich, and gave up all To break the iron bands Of those who waited in her hall, And labored in her lands. Long since beyond the Southern Sea Their outbound sails have sped, While she, in meek humility, Now earns her daily bread. It is their prayers, which never cease, That clothe her with such grace; Their blessing is the light of peace That shines upon her face.

South To America by Imani Perry

The subtitle of this book is A Journey Below The Mason-Dixon Line To Understand The Soul Of A Nation. The author is black, southern born and northern raised, so when she goes about exploring the south, town by town, and region by region, she does so with a different perspective than some and with an eye to telling a story of what the past, present, and the potential future that each place has, and how it all fits together. She starts in Appalachia, the remote mountainous region that spans from Mississippi to New York, and touches 10 Southern states. She visits Harpers Ferry, West Virginia, where white abolitionist John Brown attempted a slave revolt in 1859 and paid for it with his life. She has a mixed mission, the first to experience and portray each place at it is today and to provide the historical perspective, but also to take these and look at where the near future will be, which is nowhere near the same as she moves from place to place, and she struggles to try and tie it all together. It is more textured a portrayal than lumping everything below the Mason Dixon line together. Northern popular opinion has it that Southerners are fat, poor, and uneducated. Statistics will tell you they are politically conservative and reactionary. History has it that they are racist and violent. While there is some truth to those assessments, they don’t come close to painting an accurate or helpful picture of the South, which is much more complex, multifaceted, and contradictory--and she posits that we had better figure it out or we too are doomed to repeat the past.

Savannah Cotton Exchange

It is very hard for me to be in the American South and to enjoy the history around me because so much of it is tied directly to slavery. This building was built in 1887, so after the Civil War, and was embarked upon because Savannah was the leading exporter of cotton in the United States and second in the world. Prior to the Revolutionary War, cotton was imported from the West Indies through trade within the British Empire, which decreased after America gained independence and tried to achieve economic autonomy. The need to find industries to support Georgia’s economy after the war was the first catalyst pushing cotton towards becoming a major Georgia crop. Georgians found that long-staple cotton fibers could easily be separated from its seeds, but it only grew on the coast. Short-staple cotton grew inland but separating the seeds from the fibers was labor intensive, increasing the cost of production. The patent of Eli Whitney’s cotton gin in 1794 allowed cotton plantations to spread further from the coast to grow short staple cotton. The lucrative cash crop also increased the heavy dependence on slave labor by cotton-producing states and directly tied those states to the slave economy. The cotton gin became popularized just before the Creek War, which resulted in a massive loss of Creek Indian lands in western Georgia and Alabama. The Creek’s loss of land allowed more people to venture west and become part of Georgia’s profitable cotton industry by managing their own cotton plantations (that were heavily dependent on enslaved labor) in the newly acquired lands. Soon settlers began turning their sights to northern Georgia, where the Cherokee Indians resided, setting the stage for Georgia’s, and the cotton industry’s, expansion into northern regions of Georgia. So cotton was emblematic of both financial success and subjugation.

On Black Men by David Marriott

This is a researched and footnoted academic volume that was an alternative read for my book group one month. I finished the book we chose and started on this, and got stalled because it is populated by mutilated, dying or dead, black men, and it was so brutal in the way that it portrayed the way that black men play a role in the psychic life of American culture in general to southern culture in particular. This is a reflection on the persistent imagining of what black men must be, a demand that black men perform a script, become interchangeable with the uncanny, deeply unsettling, projections of culture. It is a powerful and compelling study that explores the legacy of that role, particularly its violent effect on how black men have learned to see themselves and one another. David Marriott draws upon a range of examples, from lynching photographs to recent Hollywood films, as well as the ideas of key thinkers including Frantz Fanon, Richard Wright, James Baldwin and John Edgar Wideman, to reveal a vicious pantomime of the predominant culture taking a look at itself through images of black desolation, and of blacks intimately dispossessed by that self-same looking.

The Conjure Man Dies by Rudolph Fisher

My book group read this recently republished crime novel from 1932, written by a Harlem physician who died at a young age and never got a real crack at making a name for himself. It is written with a black dialect, and is surprisingly not dated, with the exception of some Bubber Brown and his friend Jinx Jenkins have come to consult N’Gana Frimbo, a Harvard-educated psychic who’s known throughout Harlem. In the middle of their session, Frimbo cries out, “Why do you not see?” and collapses, to be pronounced dead soon after by neighboring physician John Archer. Frimbo, whose friends and clients ranged from his landlord, undertaker Samuel Crouch, to drug addict Doty Hicks and Spider Webb, a numbers runner who works for Crouch’s friend Si Brandon, the king of Harlem crime, was privy to many secrets, and any number of people might have wanted him dead. But how could anyone have beaten him unconscious and suffocated him by forcing the handkerchief Archer discovers down his throat when he died in the middle of a session with Brown and Jenkins? The novel meanders between lots of options, with the black detective Dart and Dr. Archer playing ideas off each other. The medical facts that are presented are on point and unannoying, all still ringing true today. If you are a fan of either Harlem history or crime fiction, I would recommend this.

Passing (2021)

This is a movie about two light skinned black women who know each otehr from childhood and meet again in 1920's New York City. Clare is passing for white. She’s convincing enough to fool a lot of people, including her racist husband. Irene is living in Harlem but on one particular day decided to try her hand at fooling the masses that she too is white. She nervously enters a White dining establishment and takes a seatlooking uncomfortable and anxious. It is in white Manhattan that they remeet up, but it is in Harlem that Clare wants to experience just exactly the part of her culture and herself that she has given up in order to live with the access that being white gives her. The script is taken from a book of the same name, and is multi-layered in nuance, maybe as a result. This was completely snubbed by the Oscars this year, but the acting, screenplay, and cinematography are all quite impressive.

The Final Revival of Opal and Nev by Dawnie Walton

This book, yet another from Obama's 2021 reading list, is the type of novel that grabs you no matter your interests--it covers a lot of ground, including music, art, the 1970s, black culture, and the progress of civil rights through the decades. The book is constructed as an oral history, with a premise as complex as its characters. Fictional cult classic ’70s punk rock band Opal & Nev is coming together for a 2016 reunion show and to tease the possibility of a tour. Music journalist Sunny Shelton is tasked with writing the band’s biography, potentially because her father used to play for them — and was even killed at an event where they were playing. Underneath that, Sunny has a deeper secret: Opal Jones had a love affair with her father. Despite all of this, Sunny is determined to provide a fair and balanced look at this band that affected so many people, including her. The beauty of this book for me is that it allows readers to reckon with how we view pivotal moments in history and how tragic and personal moments can be turned into flashpoints that are discussed but not fully understood. As Sunny gets to the bottom of what happened to her father that tragic day, everything jolts into a new perspective.