Black History 365: Edson Hilaire

We are highlighting examples of Black excellence throughout the year! Feel free to send us suggestions!

Black Electrician Opens Shop In Waltham, Hopes To Set Example

WALTHAM, MA July 9, 2021— Edson Hilaire didn’t always know he would own his own electrical company, but he got the spark back about 17 years ago. He was called to help a woman who wanted a three-way switch in her dining room. She left him to it, and when she came home to exactly what she wanted, she was over the moon.

“It was a good feeling,” he said. “And I thought, ‘let me put a smile on another customer’s face.'”

In May, nearly two decades after becoming an electrician and a decade after starting his business EH Electric and HVAC from his kitchen table and running it there, he opened a brick and mortar in Waltham. He’s one of only a handful of Black-owned electrical companies in the commonwealth, according to a listing in BlackBoston.com.

The backstory

Hilaire was born in Haiti and came to the US with his dad when he was about 8 years old. They landed in Brockton, but after an abusive relationship with his stepmother, he moved to Dorchester to get away from “that madness” and lived with a family member for a couple of years in a part of town that wasn’t considered a safe as a place. By the time he was 11 his dad got divorced, and they moved to Arlington to start a new life. It wasn’t perfect, and he spent time with social services, and institutions before being adopted by a friend’s family, but he credits the move with setting him on the path to owning his own business.

“It was a completely different environment, from the school, the education, the people,” he said.

He was sometimes the only Black kid in his classes, but he doesn’t remember thinking much of it.

“Throughout my life, I never considered myself a minority, I just didn’t really care that I was the only Black kid in my classes, it was just about making friends and chugging along,” he said.

That’s not to say he didn’t encounter racism along the way, he said.

“I hate to talk that way, it’s always around me, being a Black person,” he said. “But I never really dwell, once I have a mission I put my best foot forward and keep going.”

In high school he worked for a friend’s dad’s electrician company, learned pieces of the craft, then went to work for different companies after high school and tried to better himself, put himself through school to get his license.

In 2005, he created the business from side work and word of mouth. He prided himself on being thorough and thoughtful. He named his business EH Electric, and he was the sole employee, and worked nights while he worked his 40-hour day job. Sometimes he wouldn’t come home until 11 p.m.

“I had to make sacrifices,” he said,”because I just knew the company would get to this point.”

He put his money aside, hoping to start his own business one day. Every three years or so, he was able to add employees. And then, earlier this year, his side business got so big that he was able to open a brick and mortar with 10 employees in the city where he’s lived for the past four years with his wife, and now two young children.

Lack of diversity

Only some 8.9 percent of the 700,646 businesses in the state are owned by people of color, according to a new report by business.org

He joined the electricians union in 2015 and noticed right away that there was not a lack of diversity in union workers, but there was in top leaders.

“I’m not blind to what’s out there and the color of my skin,” he said. “I know from some of the studies, there’s just not a lot of minority electricians or tradesmen that are out there trying to build the business.”

When he goes on calls, he often encounters people who express surprise that their electrician is Black.

“You’d be surprised how many people call for service, but when I do show up, they’ll say —without realizing what they’re saying — will say something like ‘we didn’t expect someone like you,'” he said.

He estimates he gets that about four times a week. Most of the time he will gently maneuver that question, perhaps asking them what they expected, or brush past it. He said getting defensive or angry wouldn’t be productive.

“They’re not used to seeing Black-person owned business, it’s different,” he said.

And he wants to help change that.

“I want to give back to the youth with outreach programs,” he said. “I never had a playbook, I pretty much crafted this and created it on my own.”

No one gave him a gift of money to start his business, he said. And he wants to show young people, especially people of color, that it is possible to go into the trades and succeed and become a business owner.

“I could have given up a long time ago, with so much stacked against me – not having money, being a minority,” he said. “Racism is no joke, it is out there. But it’s about just not giving up. If you truly believe in yourself and what you’re capable of in your craft, no matter what it is, I guarantee you will succeed. I’m living proof.”

Aug. 29 he’s planning a ribbon cutting, and the mayor will be present, he said.

Also read:How To Support Black Owned Businesses In Waltham

https://patch.com/massachusetts/waltham/black-electrician-opens-shop-waltham-hopes-set-example

Black History 365: Chester Higgins

We are highlighting examples of Black excellence throughout the year! Feel free to send us suggestions!

Chester Higgins’ camera brings a 360 degree view to Black life

Not long after I arrived at his Brooklyn brownstone, Chester Higgins started telling me about “The Spirit.” He was nine years old when “The Spirit” visited him in his bedroom in rural New Brockton, Alabama.

“There’s this Black man who’s standing in a very calm, still position,” Higgins said. “His eyes are closed and gradually his eyes open, he raises up his hands. As he’s walking towards me and extending his hand and says, ‘I come for you.'”

Higgins was terrified but his grandfather, a Baptist minister, explained the incident as an apparition and interpreted it as the boy’s calling to the ministry. In September 1957— two months before his 10th birthday— Higgins was presented with a minister’s license and started preaching at local churches.

But when Higgins went off to Tuskegee Institute, he left his religious calling behind. As business manager of the student newspaper, he encouraged advertisers to buy bigger ads with photos in them. This is how Higgins stumbled into photography.

From minister to photographer

At the home of the college’s professional photographer, Higgins was moved by portraits of poor farmers on their way to market. Higgins got the photographer to teach him how to use his camera, borrowed it and shot photos of his family back in New Brockton. Seeing his relatives’ faces in framed portraits on the walls of their homes was like being paid, he said.

“They found a sense of agency in themselves that they hadn’t seen before, that reaffirmed their sense of worthiness,” Higgins said. “I picked up the camera out of love for my family. I did not have a long term plan with the camera. But what changed that is the civil rights movement.”

In the late 1960’s Higgins was active in civil rights protests. He joined people picketing outside the mansion of Alabama’s segregationist governor, George Wallace, in Montgomery. He didn’t like the mainstream media’s coverage of the civil rights protests.

“We weren’t seen as American citizens petitioning our government,” he recalled. “We were seen as potential arsonists, rapists or just thugs. It taught me that a picture never lies about the photographer.”

Years later during a job interview with A.M. Rosenthal, the managing editor of The New York Times, Higgins said there were three things that were always missing in images of African-Americans: “decency, dignity and virtuous character.”

Image of barber shaving a customer

A local barbershop in Tuskegee, AL, 1972. Bruce Silverstein Gallery, New York

Higgins decided that the best way to remedy the white media’s depiction of African-Americans was to become a photographer. After his junior year at Tuskegee, he traveled to New York in the summer of 1969 and cold-called a number of big-circulation picture magazines, stressing that he was seeking feedback from a photo editor, not a job. Higgins will tell you that “The Spirit” was responsible for him meeting Arthur Rothstein, the director of photography at Lookmagazine.

“The Spirit brought this man into my life,” said Higgins. “The door opens and here he is.”

Rothstein, one of the giants of American photography, was clearly impressed with Higgins who explained that his goal as a photographer was to “change the way the media portrays my people.”

Higgins said Rothstein took him under his wing because he could sense Higgins’ “desperate energy” to master the craft of photography.

Rothstein was so keen on the college kid from Alabama that he gave him 35mm film and critiqued Higgins’ work. Higgins remembered one day when Rothstein took four sheets of paper from his desk and cropped one of Higgins’ pictures.

“He calls me over and says, ‘Here, take a look.’ I went and I looked and I was amazed,” Higgins recalled. “I asked him, ‘Was that my picture?’ He said, ‘Yes, that’s your picture but you didn’t know it. All this other stuff was competing with it and you didn’t know what to zero in on.'”

Image of fisherman in papyrus reed boat

The papyrus reed boats used by fishermen along the Blue Nile corridor. Bruce Silverstein Gallery, New York

I wanted to have my images on the world stage

After graduation, Higgins moved to New York and spent several years freelancing before being hired as a staff photographer at The New York Times in 1975. During the 39 years Higgins worked at the newspaper, some 40% of his images, he says, were of people of color. And he points with pride to the fact that he got a picture of Kwanzaa published in the paper almost every year, as well as images of a Coney Island beach ceremony commemorating the enslaved Africans who perished in the Atlantic Ocean during the Middle Passage.

“This is what Rothstein trained me for,” said Higgins. “I wanted to have my images on the world stage.”

Among those who have appreciated Higgins’ work over the years is Lonnie Bunch, secretary of the Smithsonian Institution. When Bunch served as founding director of the National Museum of African American History and Culture, he made sure that it acquired some of Higgins’ images.

“Chester is someone who has captured the last 40 years of Black America in powerful ways” Bunch told NPR. “He elevated photography from documentary to fine art.”

Bunch is aware that Higgins has made close to 50 trips to Africa and admires the photographer’s effort to portray the continent’s humanity in a way that might foster a deeper connection for other African-Americans.

“He’s not capturing an Africa that’s flawed, he’s not capturing an Africa that is broken,” said Bunch. “He’s capturing an Africa that has a spirit of hope, of possibility that in some ways he believes will shape the African-American experience as well.”

Image of people with a stone building in background

Christmas pilgrims in Ethiopia Bruce Silverstein Gallery, New York

A life-long assignment in Africa

Higgins made his first trip to Africa in 1971, traveling to Senegal for an Essence magazine assignment. For most of the time he worked for The New York Times he spent his vacations in Africa, often commissioning custom made suits made of traditional African patterns. Now 75, Higgins hasn’t stopped going to the continent to document its history and culture. He spent the first month of 2022 in Egypt.

“Being in Africa, I’ve discovered, is quite a relief for me because… [when I go, I’m] in the majority. I don’t have to worry about people looking at my color and [I’m] a target, people not knowing me and they hate me. I’ve found that the whole stress of racism just lifts off your shoulder.”

Higgins often refers to Africans as “my cousins.”

He’s been to Egypt 20 times, most recently to shoot photos of tombs. His latest book, The Sacred Nile, presents images of pyramids, rock-hewn churches, tombs and other religious monuments along the River Nile. Higgins says his trips to the continent have become his life-long assignment.

“My overall assignment was to create a visual encyclopedia of the life and times of people of African descent,” Higgins said. “I just lumbered along, following The Spirit, following my interests. And that’s what I still do.

Image of pyramids illuminated by sun

Several pyramids in the morning light in the royal burial grounds in Meroe, Sudan. Bruce Silverstein Gallery, New York

On March 24, Higgins was presented with a lifetime achievement award by the Silurians Press Club in New York, the first time a photographer has been honored by the group. Former New York Times reporter Joseph Berger praised Higgins for raising the consciousness of the entire newsroom.

“Chester has always been a man on a spiritual mission, striving to find the humanity, the dignity and the grace in everyone,” said Berger who worked with Higgins over the course of 30 years. “Just look at the photos of Joyce Dinkins adjusting her husband’s tie before his inauguration as mayor or Amiri Baraka jitterbugging with Maya Angelou at Harlem’s Schomburg Center. Higgins, he said, “viewed his job as a calling and the taking of photographs as a sacrament.”

https://www.npr.org/2022/03/31/1089294489/chester-higgins-camera-brings-a-360-degree-view-to-black-life

Black History 365: Adrienne Bennett

We are highlighting examples of Black excellence throughout the year! Feel free to send us suggestions!

First Black Female Master Plumber in the U.S. Shares Her Journey

August 23, 2018

At the age of 30, Adrienne Bennett became the first black female master plumber in the U.S. Now, 30 years later, she is CEO of her own contracting company, Detroit-based Benkari LLC

She launched the commercial plumbing and water conservation company in 2008 when she felt she had hit the pinnacle of her career. 

“I’ve been a journeyman plumber, a master plumber, project manager, plumbing inspector and code enforcement officer for the city of Detroit for a decade. There was no place left to go but become an independent contractor,” she says. “It was the final frontier.” 

From a young age, she had an interest in the way things worked, and that lead to her applying for an entry-level training program with an engineering firm in Detroit later in life. The program was a pathway into Lawrence Technology University, where she hoped to study mechanical engineering. 

But a racially charged encounter with someone who worked at the firm shocked her so much that she left the program within a year and never attended college. 

“I was young, naive. I had never been called something like that before. I was blindsided,” she says. 

Her mother helped her through it. “I cried a lot, but she told me to take it as a life lesson and continue to move forward,” Bennett recalls. 

For a few years she bounced around doing odd jobs, including work as an advocate for people on public assistance programs. But then, at a 1976 election rally for Jimmy Carter, Bennett had a chance meeting that would change the direction of her life. 

Gus Dowels, a recruiter from the Mechanical Contractors Association of Detroit, approached Bennett and asked her “How would you like to make $50,000 a year?” “I asked him, ‘Is it legal work?’,” recalls Bennett. 

Dowels was working for a federally-sponsored apprenticeship program for skilled trades and he was looking to recruit minority women, she says. Soon Bennett, who was 22 at the time, was taking the test for admission into the five-year apprenticeship program with the Plumbers’ Union, Local 98.

Throughout her training, Bennett was surrounded by men, both in the classroom and in the field. “It was dirty work. It was rough and physically demanding. It paid $5 an hour with a 50-cent raise every six months,” she said. 

As she started to break through each barrier, successfully passing exams and earning praise from instructors, Bennett met backlash, hostility and bullying from her male peers.

“I always wore a very heavy toolbelt around my waist. I did this for protection because men would try to grab at me inappropriately,” she says. “Many times, I was the only woman with as many as 100 men on a construction site.” 

One time the bullying was so intolerable that Bennett recalled driving in a fog back to the union hall and breaking down emotionally. But she pulled herself together and when she completed the program, she became the first women in the state to have successfully done so. 

“I was not going to let myself or anyone else down,” she says. 

Read the full original story about Bennett’s journey and her work in rebuilding the city she has lived in since she was 9 years-old here.

https://www.phcppros.com/articles/8065-first-black-female-master-plumber-in-the-us-shares-her-journey

Black History 365: Camp Atwater

We are highlighting examples of Black excellence throughout the year! Feel free to send us suggestions!

The American summer camp wasn’t originally intended for Black children.

But in the center of Massachusetts, on the shore of Lake Lashaway, there have been generations of Black kids frolicking in the bliss of the season at Camp Atwater.

On a Thursday in July, Olivia Auston, 16, and Alaysia Mondon, 14, were having a friendly competition of basketball.

When the camp was founded in 1921 by the Reverend Dr. William DeBerry, scholars believe it might have been the first of its kind in America — a summer camp specifically for Black youth.

Olivia said it’s important that she spend time with kids who look like her.

“There’s not much representation of Black people in Massachusetts. When you think of different cities, you think ‘Oh, Massachusetts. Full of rich White people,'” she said. “But it’s nice to have somewhere you can go and trust people and be around your own people.”

Alaysia, whom Olivia met two years ago at camp, said she likes how Camp Atwater allows them to explore their individuality.

“We’re obviously all different in our own ways,” she said.

“Miss Speech Girl,” Olivia teased.

They both laughed.

“I mean we can’t all be the same or else it won’t be fun,” Alaysia continued. “So if we all had the same interests there’d be no point in doing all these activities.”

The sleepaway camp for kids ages 8 to 15 was on hiatus last summer because of COVID. This year, it’s a free day camp, two days a week for older vaccinated teens.

Whatever modicum of peace camp allows, is necessary, especially after the isolation and injustices of last year, said Henry Thomas III, who heads the camp.

“When you think about where the kids have been for the last year – emotionally, psychologically – it’s been kinda rough,” he said.

Thomas leads the Springfield Urban League, which manages Camp Atwater. He was a teen activist during the Civil Rights movement in the 60s – the same time he was a camper here.

“We used to have some dynamite discussions about Civil Rights, the movement, Black power,” he said.

Being at the camp, Thomas said, fueled his fight for justice, because he felt he’d be protecting his fellow campers’ dreams.

“When we’d finish playing ball, we’d sit down on the waterfront and we’d start talking,” Thomas remembered. “They were saying, ‘I want to be a doctor.’ ‘I want to be a lawyer.’ “

And many of them did become doctors and lawyers.

Thomas pulled out a small piece of paper with handwritten notes and rattled off the names of famous former campers. Wayne Budd, the former U.S. Attorney for Massachusetts; “Rick” Ireland, the first Black chief justice of the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court; Donald Faison, an actor known for the show “Scrubs;” Ruth E. Carter, the Oscar-winning costume designer of “Black Panther;” and media mogul Wendy Williams.

Groundskeeper Buck Gee, who was a camper in the ’70s and a counselor in the ’80s, said the magic of Camp Atwater is the freedom it allows Black kids. They try not to have too many rules at this camp, because Black kids are policed everywhere else. And Gee says he remembers a time when kids would take canoes to an island on the lake and camp there.

“At night, you’d hear ’em singing and going back across [the lake] like Vikings,” he said. “And man, you talking about noise all night, loud! They wouldn’t sleep.”

Camp Atwater, because of its longevity and purpose, is considered “historically anomalous” said Leslie Paris, an associate professor of history at the University of British Columbia. The camp is on the National Register of Historic Places. Paris said it played an important role in the Great Migration, when Black families moved from the South to metropolitan areas in the North.

“It provided opportunities to be away from the stresses of the cities, the racism of the city,” Paris said. “It set apart spaces that were safe, that were welcoming.”

Paris, who studies and writes about summer camps, said the first American summer camps didn’t have Black kids in mind.

“The original child whom the first late 19th century camp proponents were imagining was a White boy,” she said. “And their concern was about the boy’s masculinity, his future leadership and sometimes also his spirituality.”

Because Atwater was so unique, it attracted Black kids from around the country, especially from well-off families. Back then, Atwater also offered high-brow activities such as fencing and ballet and lacrosse.

“Sending one’s child to Atwater was a sign of privilege,” Paris noted. “It signaled, for parents and their children, a sign for making it.”

But Camp Atwater’s popularity waned in the 1970s, Paris said, partially due to the desegregation of other summer camps.

The American Camp Association, from where Camp Atwater receives its accreditation, doesn’t keep a running list of camps like Atwater in the country. But there are a few known ones, such as Camp Founder Girls, which is a summer camp started in 1924 for Black girls in San Antonio, and the modernly-formed Black Lives Matter Utah Summer Camp.

At the end of campers’ day at Atwater, most kids head to the bus to leave. But Joshua-Mark Campbell, 17, who just learned about the history of Camp Atwater, stayed behind on the basketball court to reflect on the importance of the Massachusetts camp a century after its founding.

“I’m kinda without words, because this is something you don’t see very often, you know?” he said. “And when you spot it, it’s a good thing. So yeah, it’s awesome.”

Next year, Campbell said he hopes so many kids find out about this “definitely important” place that there’s a waitlist for Camp Atwater – where generations of Black kids have been free to be Vikings or just themselves.

https://www.npr.org/2021/08/24/1026662792/camp-atwater-offers-black-children-a-chance-to-make-friends-and-make-plans

Black History 365: Alvin Carter

We are highlighting examples of Black excellence throughout the year! Feel free to send us suggestions!

How a school bus driver in Illinois has brought joy to his community for decades

When 5-year-old twins Fionnuala and Ceilidh Climer get on the bus to school each day, they are greeted by a familiar voice.

“Hello number one princess, hello number two princess!” driver Alvin Carter calls out.

Carter, referred to fondly as Mr. Alvin by the twins, is a driver and custodian at the girls’ school in Skokie, Ill. Other times he greets them with, “Good morning, sunshine!” or a joke.

“He says, ‘Can I borrow your dress?’ And I say no, and I start laughing,” Fionnuala said.

Carter has worked at Elizabeth Meyer School for 28 years. During that time, he’s become a well-known figure in the community.

“Even before I knew him … I’d heard about him from our neighbors, whose kids were in middle school and high school,” said Siobhan Climer, the twins’ mom. “They’re like, ‘Oh, when you go to kindergarten, you’re going to get Mr. Alvin!’ “

Conversations with the kids keep him motivated

For nearly three decades, Carter has driven the bus for kindergarteners and he loves it. He said they make his day.

“The faces, the smiles, the greets, and all that stuff,” he said. “In the lunchroom, it’s like we’re brothers and sisters, so it’s hard to really not be there.”

Carter has eight children of his own, all adults now. He said the kids on the bus remind him of when his children were in kindergarten, and he revels in that.

In fact, he’s tried to retire over the years, but just can’t bring himself to do it.

“Every time, I remember the faces I see in the morning, I’m like, ‘Oh, I can’t do this. I got to be there,'” he said.

In addition to missing those sweet faces, Carter said he also can’t pull himself away from the interactions.

“I’m sitting in the lunchroom with them and it’s like, I can’t leave,” he said. “I can’t even leave to go eat lunch because we always have a conversation.”

Those talks, and those relationships, got put on hold when COVID-19 hit.

A few months into the pandemic, he heard that kids and parents were worried about him, so he revved up the empty school bus and drove around to their houses.

“I’d stop and I’d honk and they’re standing at the window,” he said. “[I’d] let them see that I’m OK. There’s a little one on the bus right now, she used to stand by the window with her older brother and sister, just to wave at me, and that made me feel very special.”

And even though some school districts in Illinois and across the country saw shortages of bus drivers as schools reopened, quitting wasn’t an option for Carter.

While Carter and the Climer twins joke and talk about dresses, their mom, Siobhan, also cherishes another aspect of their relationship.

When Fionnuala was 4 years old, she was diagnosed with neuroblastoma, a cancer that most often occurs in children.

Siobhan said the doctors were able to remove the tumor and Fionnuala is doing wonderfully now, but she still had to miss school for medical appointments when she started kindergarten last year. And Carter noticed.

“I know a couple of times when Fionnuala would be out, he’d ask me, ‘Where’s the other one?’ And I might say, ‘Oh, she has an appointment’ or, you know, ‘She’s not feeling so well,'” Siobhan said.

“It was just a lot of empathy behind Mr. Alvin’s eyes, even when he’s smiling and joking … And he’d say, ‘Well, tell her that I miss her,’ and he’d honk for her, when she was inside.”

Students seek him out years after the bus rides end

In addition to just having fun, Carter sees it as his duty to motivate each child on his bus.

I’d like them to be successful in life,” he said. “So if it starts at kindergarten, then it might continue.”

Carter doesn’t claim any credit, but speaks with pride about some of his former students who have gone on to be doctors, nurses and engineers. He honks at them when he sees them, and they love running into him, too. Though, Carter jokes that it can all be too much sometimes.

“When I go [to] Target, sometimes I gotta try and hide because I run into so many of them,” he said. “You try to hide, but they still come find you. They’ll find you. I don’t know how, but they know, ‘Oh, there’s Mr. Alvin over there’ … I like it. I just love being around. That motivates me. That’s what keeps me going.”

Try as he might, he just can’t hide. But really, as Ceilidh has witnessed, little stops him from chatting.

“He talks to people, even if it’s a snowstorm or a rainstorm,” she said. “He always stops by and talks to anyone … He says good morning to the grown-ups and the kids, every single day.”

https://www.npr.org/2022/04/17/1092826346/how-a-school-bus-driver-in-illinois-has-brought-joy-to-his-community-for-decades

Black History 365: Katharine Morris

We are highlighting examples of Black excellence throughout the year! Feel free to send us suggestions!

Katharine Morris is using her environmental activism to raise awareness about public health and the local ecosystem in her neighborhood

Article by In The Know, Video produced by Alex Hughes, Jordan Walker, Alexandra Katsoulis

Sometimes, changing the world starts at home! For activist and student Katharine Morris, that means raising awareness about climate change and environmental racism in her Connecticut community. 

Katharine is the founder of UConn Collaborative Organizing (UCCO) and works with students and activists in her community to raise awareness about the ways in which social justice issues and climate activism are inextricably intertwined. Katharine’s goal is to address climate issues in her home of Bridgeport, Connecticut, and to connect and collaborate with climate activists across the state.

Katharine first became aware of the connection between racism and climate change when she moved to Bridgeport as a teenager. “When I moved to Bridgeport, Connecticut for my high school years, that’s when I noticed all the plumes and various air pollution sources,” she tells In The Know. “My air was more polluted and my water was more polluted. I didn’t have access to nature in the way that I was most familiar with.”

Katharine began volunteering for organizations in her community as a high school student, and founded UCCO upon enrolling at the University of Connecticut. “It’s about shifting the culture on campus to one where people recognize what they can do together, and feel that sense of responsibility towards each other, and feel the strength of collective action in a way that hopefully will last long after I’ve graduated,” she explains. 

Katharine works hard to make her community aware of local environmental issues and how they’re connected to racial inequality. She tells In The Know that sources of pollution like power plants and incinerators disproportionately affect people of color and low income communities. 

According to Katharine, incinerators fill the air with harmful particulate matter which can cause higher rates of cancer and asthma. She notes that asthma rates are 5 times higher for Black children in Connecticut. “Social injustices, structural injustices, environmental racism, health inequities—this connection should be accounted for in the fight for environmental justice and climate action overall.”

In her work with UCCO, Katharine focuses on community engagement and awareness-raising tactics. “I am engaging with other [environmental justice] activists who are doing great work around the state of Connecticut,” she says. “I’m also working on community engagement projects to really ground the community members of Bridgeport with a sense of pride and responsibility for their environment.”

Katharine also works on fundraising projects for UCCO. She is currently raising money via a GoFundMe for “Seaside Sounds for Environmental Justice,” a cultural celebration and fundraising event which will showcase local artists and entrepreneurs, and raise awareness about local environmental issues. 

Katharine believes that tackling environmental racism takes persistence, creativity, and teamwork. “It really starts with being creative, but also most importantly paying attention to the needs of the environmental justice communities in your surroundings, because there’s no one size fits all solution for these issues,” she says. “We’re all people surrounded by other people, interacting with other people, and if we don’t work together collaboratively, we’re not going to solve the gigantic problem that is climate change and environmental racism.”

https://www.intheknow.com/post/katharine-morris-is-using-her-environmental-activism-to-raise-awareness-about-public-health-and-the-local-ecosystem-in-her-connecticut-neighborhood/

Black History 365: Thomas Mayfield

We are highlighting examples of Black excellence throughout the year! Feel free to send us suggestions!

After a Texas teacher saw his students struggling with math, he turned to rap music

Thomas Mayfield had a major problem to solve in his fifth-grade classroom.

“I’m not good at adding. I don’t know how to regroup or borrow. I’m not good at subtracting. Or I don’t know my facts yet, and I’m a fifth-grader,” Mayfield’s students used to tell him.

The 42-year-old math teacher from Fort Worth, Texas, took their frustrations to heart. He knew it was important to try something new, especially because most of his students were also struggling outside of the classroom.

“Single parent homes, incarcerated parents, low financial stability — a lot of that was going on,” he said.

Mayfield teaches at Title I schools, where at least 40% of students are economically disadvantaged. He grew up going to these types of schools in Fort Worth, too.

To reach students in a way that was familiar and inviting, he brought rap music to the classroom.

“It’s built confidence,” he said. “It helps to build a less traumatic experience, and they feel like they’re invited and welcomed into the classroom.”

“Kids started caring more about coming to school”

In one of Mayfield’s videos, he plays an instrumental beat to Luniz’s song, “I Got 5 on It.” He gets his students pumped. Then they start to rap about decimal point places.

“Now let’s break this thing down,” raps Mayfield and students in the video. “Let’s start with the tenths/ Like a dime to a dollar, there’s 1 out of 10/ Then we move to the hundredths, one part out of many/ One out of 100, we call that a penny…”

They rap and make viral music videos with thousands of views about multiplication, and motivational songs like passing the big end-of-year exam called the STARR test. https://www.youtube.com/embed/uEyxxcYm12Q?rel=0 YouTube

Mayfield said learning math through music has been a successful strategy, and he saw results within a school semester.

“State scores rose,” he said. “Student growth rose. Productivity, it went up. Kids started caring more about coming to school. The attendance went up. Parents were really enthused about coming to different events when we normally didn’t see them.”

Last year, while working at the Leadership Academy at Como Elementary, he even started engaging students nationwide by creating jingles for teachers so they could capture students in Zoom class.

Mayfield’s district recognizes he’s been so good at engaging students that he got promoted for the 2021-2022 school year to coach teachers at another Title 1 school in Fort Worth, J.T. Stevens Elementary School.

“A great way to help me make it through math”

Mayfield chats with two former students, Sophomore Pareece Morehouse (left) and 8th grader Jailah Williams, who performed in his Rosa Parks tribute video that was done for Black History Month this year. JerSean Golatt for NPR

Pareece Morehouse, one of Mayfield’s former students, is now in tenth grade and loves old-school rap.

Before Mr. Mayfield’s class, Morehouse didn’t like math and struggled with it. But pairing the difficult subject with music was game-changing for her.

“I can recall myself at home doing homework and just singing the song in my head, helping me understand, ‘oh, I know what this timetable is. I know – oh, five times five. That’s 25’,” Morehouse said. “It was really a great way to help me make it through math.

Morehouse has been featured in music videos by Mayfield like “Queens” and “Raise The Bar.” With songs like these, she said Mayfield inspired her to do better in school.

“It was a truly, truly amazing classroom and an amazing space to be in,” she said.

“Hard work turns into heart work before you know it”

Mayfield said students will produce work if you reach them where they are and take notes on what they’re interested in, whether that’s music, shoes or sports. It’s important to use things that resonate with them.

“That’s been one of my biggest accomplishments,” he said. “A lot of teachers say, ‘how Mayfield get 90% of his kids to pass? And half of them, you know, coming from broken homes and this and that.’ I said, ‘hey, you know, you have to spend time getting to know them’.”

Songs about Black History Month and Little Girl Magic have helped students build confidence that will carry them far beyond elementary school.

“Those types of staples interject into the student’s mind and psyche that they can do whatever they want to do,” he said. “And I use this quote a lot, ‘Your dreams don’t have to be from broken dreams.’ Your dreams are your dreams. So if dreams before you may have been broken, yours don’t have to be broken.”

He preaches: “Hard work turns into heart work before you know it.”

https://www.npr.org/2022/04/11/1091229133/after-a-texas-teacher-saw-his-students-struggling-with-math-he-turned-to-rap-mus

Black History 365: The Sphinx Organization

We are highlighting examples of Black excellence throughout the year! Feel free to send us suggestions!

The Sphinx Organization is a social justice organization dedicated to transforming lives through the power of diversity in the arts.

Focused on increasing representation of Black and Latinx artists in classical music and recognizing excellence, Sphinx programs serve beginner students to seasoned classical music professionals, as well as cultural entrepreneurs and administrators.

Based in Detroit, Michigan, but with nationwide reach, Sphinx envisions a day where the classical music field looks like our communities: where every young person has the opportunity to express themselves and learn classical music; where audiences reflect the people we see on our streets; and where leadership—on stage and off—includes all deserving voices.


How Sphinx Started

Sphinx began in 1997 as a singular initiative: the Sphinx Competition for young Black and Latinx string players. The goal of founder, violinist Aaron P. Dworkin, was to identify, empower, and support talented young artists and prepare them for professional careers in classical music. 

How Sphinx Grew

Over the past 25 years Sphinx has grown from a single program to a movement that promotes artistic excellence and inclusion across the sector, through the following elements:

  • year-round tuition-free education and creative youth development
  • performances and tours of 4 premiere ensembles and a robust roster of soloists
  • commissioning and performing new works by Black and Latinx composers
  • administrative leadership, cultural innovation, and entrepreneurship programs
  • sector-wide partnerships with 300+ organizations to serve the field and bring programming to scale

Sphinx is now led by Afa S. Dworkin, its long-time Artistic Director, who has been with the organization since its inception. Today, the Sphinx team is a collective of vibrant, talented leaders, including 10 full-time staff members, 50+ teaching artists and seasonal teams, and 800+ alumni

https://www.sphinxmusic.org/our-work

Black History 365: Adrienne Jones

We are highlighting examples of Black excellence throughout the year! Feel free to send us suggestions!

Adrienne A. Jones (born November 20, 1954) is the Speaker of the Maryland House of Delegates, the first African-American and first woman to serve in that position in Maryland.[1] Initially appointed by Governor Parris Glendening to fill the vacancy created by the death of Delegate Joan Neverdonn Parker in 1997, she won multiple subsequent elections to the House.[2] In a special session on May 1, 2019, Jones emerged as the compromise candidate to become Speaker after an earlier vote resulted in a split decision between Delegates Maggie McIntosh and Dereck Davis.[3]

Early life, education and early career

Born in Cowdensville, Maryland, a historic African-American community located near Arbutus, in Southwest Baltimore County. Jones attended Baltimore County public schools and graduated from Lansdowne High School. She graduated from the University of Maryland, Baltimore County with a Bachelor of Arts in psychology in 1976. She has served as the Director of the Office of Minority Affairs in Baltimore County (1989–95) and is the Executive Director of the Office of Fair Practices and Community Affairs in Baltimore County.[2]

Legislative career

Jones has been a member of House of Delegates since October 21, 1997, representing District 10. In addition to being Speaker Pro Tempore from 2003 to 2019, she was a member of the House Appropriations Committee and its public safety & administration subcommittee, among others. She also provides leadership through the Legislative Policy, Spending Affordability, Rules and Executive Nominations and Legislative Ethics Committees. She is also a member of the Legislative Black Caucus of Maryland.[4]

Legislative notes

  • Voted for Healthy Air Act in 2006 (SB154)[5]
  • Voted against slot machines in 2005 (HB1361)[6]
  • Voted for income tax reduction in 1998 (SB750)[7]
  • Voted in favor of Tax Reform Act of 2007 (HB2)[8]

Election as Speaker

Jones took over as Acting Speaker of the Maryland House of Delegates on April 7, 2019, following the death of then-Speaker Michael Busch. On May 1, the House of Delegates unanimously elected Jones as Speaker of the House by a vote of 139-0, after Delegates Maggie McIntosh (D-Baltimore City) and Dereck Davis (D-Prince George’s County) bowed out of the Speaker’s race in favor of Jones. Jones is both the first female and first African-American speaker in Maryland state history.[9]

2006 general election results, District 10

Voters to choose three:[10]

NameVotesPercentOutcome
Emmett C. Burns, Jr.29,140  34.2%   Won
Shirley Nathan-Pulliam28,544  33.5%   Won
Adrienne A. Jones27,064  31.8%   Won
Other Write-Ins370  0.4%   

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adrienne_A._Jones

Black History 365: Hound Dog Taylor

We are highlighting examples of Black excellence throughout the year! Feel free to send us suggestions!

Life and career

Taylor was born in Natchez, Mississippi, in 1915, though some sources say 1917. He first played the piano and began playing the guitar when he was 20. He moved to Chicago in 1942.

Taylor had a condition known as polydactylism, which resulted in him having six fingers on both hands.[3] As is usual with the condition, the extra digits were rudimentary nubbins and could not be moved. One night, while drunk, he cut off the extra digit on his right hand using a straight razor.[4]

He became a full-time musician around 1957, but remained unknown outside the Chicago area, where he played small clubs in black neighborhoods and at the open-air Maxwell Street Market.[5] He was known for his electrified slide guitar playing (roughly styled after that of Elmore James),[5] his cheap Japanese Teisco guitars, and his raucous boogie beats. In 1967, Taylor toured Europe with the American Folk Blues Festival, performing with Little Walter and Koko Taylor.[6]

Bruce Iglauer (then a shipping clerk for Delmark Records) tried to persuade his employer to sign Taylor to a recording contract after he heard Taylor with his band, the HouseRockers (Brewer Phillips on second guitar and Ted Harvey on drums), in 1970 at Florence’s Lounge on Chicago’s South Side.[8] In 1971, having no success in getting Delmark to sign Taylor, Iglauer used a $2,500 inheritance to form Alligator Records, which recorded Taylor’s debut album, Hound Dog Taylor and the HouseRockers.[8] The album was recorded in just two nights. It was the first release for Alligator, which eventually became a major blues label.[9] Iglauer began managing and booking the band, which toured nationwide and performed with Muddy Waters, Freddie King, and Big Mama Thornton.[10] The band became especially popular in the Boston area, where Taylor inspired the young George Thorogood. The album Live at Joe’s Place documents a performance in Boston in 1972.

The second release by Taylor and his band, Natural Boogie, recorded in late 1973, received greater acclaim and led to more touring. In 1975, they toured Australia and New Zealand with Freddie King and the duo of Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee. Taylor’s third album for Alligator, Beware of the Dog, was recorded live in 1974 but was not released until after his death.[9] Alligator also released, posthumously, Genuine Houserocking Music and Release the Hound. Bootleg live recordings also circulated after Taylor’s death.

Taylor died of lung cancer in 1975. He was buried at Restvale Cemetery, in Alsip, Illinois.[11]

Awards and recognition

In 1984, Taylor was posthumously inducted into the Blues Hall of Fame. His induction statement included: “He was not a virtuoso, nor a master technician. But the few things he could play, he could play like no one else could. He told writer Bob Neff the way he would like to be remembered: ‘He couldn’t play shit, but he sure made it sound good.'”[12]

In 1997, Alligator Records released Hound Dog Taylor: A Tribute, a 14-track tribute album in which Taylor’s songs are covered by Luther Allison, Elvin Bishop, Cub Koda (with Taylor’s band, the HouseRockers), Gov’t Mule, Sonny Landreth, and others.[13] A “Deluxe Edition” series compilation album followed in 1999.

A live recording by George Thorogood of Elmore James’ “The Sky Is Crying” is dedicated to “the memory of the late great Hound Dog Taylor”.[citation needed] It is included on his album Live (1986); Thorogood also recorded Taylor’s “Give Me Back My Wig” for his album The Hard Stuff (2006).

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hound_Dog_Taylor