VIOLET SUMMER ZINE ISS. 10 1
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© 2020 Violet Summer Zine, All Rights Reserved. Published by: Mel Writes, LLC
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Legacy & Society 5
COLLABORATORS
MELISSA HENDERSON
BRI ELLEDGE
CAMERON JACKSON
Melissa is the founder of Violet Summer Zine and loves the beach. Any beach, really. She is currently working on digital rights advocacy reports while leading media strategy for corporations like Target and P&G.When she is not writing, she is at a virtual workout class, facetiming her niece and nephews or streaming Real Housewives.
Bri Elledge is an artist & fashion photographer based in the East Village in NYC ,where she lives with her two dogs, Molly & Jax. The purpose of Bri’s work is to advance the goals of artists. In her photo projects she works with collaborators to further the success of the whole artistic community. Bri believes the artistic spirit is best allowed to thrive when helping others achieve their goals. She believes that as we help others make their dreams a reality, the artistic community as a whole benefits and flourishes.
Cameron Jackson is a Los Angeles based screenwriter. They have an affinity for crafting stories in the supernatural realm, and elevating the voices of queer people of color.
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NICOLE LOCKHART
CARA MCCLELLAN
Aramide Tinubu
Nicole Lockhart (@nik. lockhart) is a writer living in Harlem. Her first novel “Unadequate” was selfpublished in 2014. She is the writer and producer of “All My Black Sons” which debuted at the Harlem International Film Festival in 2016. Her one-woman play “Noots” is based on her unpublished memoir called “Mrs. Putnam & Marcy”. Nicole is a frequent contributor and managing editor of Violet Summer Zine. Her current project is a poetry collection titled “Interior Creatures” written in quarantine on a 100-year old Corona brand typewriter. Nicole uses writing to highlight the experience of the marginalized within the larger human story.
Cara McClellan is an attorney at the NAACP Legal Defense and Educational Fund where she works primarily on increasing equitable access to education and ending the criminalization of Black people. She previously taught middle school with Teach for America in Philadelphia. Cara has published in numerous publications and law reviews and she is a co-author of the report Our Girls, Our Future: Investing in Opportunity and Reducing Reliance on the Criminal Justice System in Baltimore. Cara graduated with honors from Yale College, received an M.S.Ed. from Penn Graduate School of Education and a J.D. from Yale Law School.
Aramide A. Tinubu is a film critic and entertainment journalist. Her work has been published in EBONY, ESSENCE, Bustle, The Daily Mail, IndieWire and Blavity. She wrote her master’s thesis on Black Girlhood and Parental Loss in Contemporary Black American Cinema. She’s a cinephile, bookworm, blogger and NYU + Columbia University alum. Follow her at @awordwitharamide.
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COLLABORATORS
BRITTANY CARROLL
JASMIN MATTHEWS
ANA LUA CAIANO
Brittany Carroll is a novice writer working on her first novel titled ‘Vines of Muscadines.’ She is a second-tour Foreign Service Officer currently serving at the U.S. Consulate in Guangzhou, China. She holds an M.A. in International Affairs from American University and a B.A. in Internal Studies and Political Science from Elon University. Prior to joining the Foreign Service, she was awarded a Fulbright scholarship for Kaohsiung, Taiwan in 2011 and the Thomas R. Pickering Fellowship in 2013. She is a native to Washington, D.C. and enjoys traveling, exploring different cultures, and cooking.
Jasmin is currently a sophomore at NYU. After interning as Violet Summer’s social media manager this summer, she is excited to continue to work with the brand in her weekly series It’s Very Much Alive. She is interested in how visual art can help to tell a story and fascinated with the creative direction behind fashion and advertising commercials. She looks forward to sharing her experiences in the New York, and also hopes to discover more things about herself as a writer along the way.
Ana Lua Caiano is a Lisbon-based designer and visual artist. Lua has designed and created visual content for several magazines, books, and artistic projects. She’s interested in projects with social, artistic and political relavance.
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GUEST EDITOR’S NOTE As I ride an almost empty rush hour 6 train uptown, I’m tempted to keep this momentum going. 2020 has been a catalyst like never before. While the weeks are dwindling away at this tumultuous year, I wonder if there are any more surprises in store before we toast on New Years Eve. For the past 90 days I’ve charged myself to abstain from alcohol or any other numbing agents. I wanted to be clear--I am clear. I am clear of any distractions or pseudo-moments of peace. I am clear about what I want and how much time I have to do that in. And I am also clear about just how monumental this year has been in many of our lives. It may be said by future generations that this year has seen a government overthrown by its people, full of democratic revolt in the midst of neighborly kindness. Will our legacy, those of us who survived the pandemic, be that of inspiration or cautionary advisory? It is not lost on me that society has changed dramatically in the past 11 months. Yet like my newfound clarity, perhaps we too have found new ways of seeing and being. I can say with certainty that content like that of Violet Summer Zine matters. It is clearer now than ever before that amplifying a diversity of voices is what brings, not only editorials, but people into their dreamt future. I can count on one hand the times that I have undertaken something that both challenges me and inspires me. Working alongside Melissa
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on this Zine is one of those things. I’m grateful for her leadership and dedication to impacting the publishing world by giving new voices like these a page to speak upon. I look forward to witnessing the next guest editor rise to this challenge of inspiration. Keep your eyes open, Nicole Lockhart
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FEATURES 14 16 20 24 28 32 34 36 38 46 50 51 52 53 55 59
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Reader Spotlight These Are a Few of My Favorite Things Blood Moon Vines of Muscadines, an excerpt An Uncertain Birth Legacy Journaling Prompt #1 Fall 2020 Mood Clubhouse App My Ancestors Were Conductors Of The UGRR Freedom of Connectivity New York Is Very Much Alive Unsolved Family Murders They Have The Range Prose Poem Quote Credits
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READER SPOTLIGHT FEATURING: TANYA CHRISTIAN
VSZ: You’ve been supporting the Violet Summer community for a few years now, do you have any memorable reading party experiences? Tanya Chrisitan: I’ve enjoyed being a part of the Violet Summer community and watching the brand flourish throughout the years. The Zine parties have become an annual event that I look forward to and each one seems to outdo the previous. The summer 2019 celebration focused on wellness, and it sticks out in my mind because I had my first sound bath. But also, at that event, I thoroughly enjoyed the readings from writers whose holistic journeys were immortalized in its pages. VSZ: What advice would you give young writers of color who want to get involved in political journalism? TC: I tell all young journalists I speak to that having a robust knowledge of the subject matter they are writing about is key. This is not something you need to go to school for or study in detail. You just need a passion for the stories you tell. For political journalists that means doing a lot of reading and making sure that there is an intimate understanding of who the key political players are, a handle on the most pressing topics and news headlines, and a thorough grasp on the policy discussions being had. VSZ: How are you now that Senator Kamala Harris has been named Vice President-elect? TC: I’m elated. After following Vice-President Elect Kamala Harris’ journey, I’m more than confident that she is capable and qualified to be in the White House. I’m excited that she will be occupying that space and I look forward to the “immediate and drastic change” she committed to before the election.
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VSZ: You’ve had the opportunity to follow her on her presidential campaign trail, can you recall the first time you met her? The first time I met Kamala Harris was at Essence Festival 2019. At the time she was a candidate for president. We sat down and discussed her plans for the country. She also relayed an important message to Black women voters. She said at the time, “the power is in your hands,” and if we look at what happened in the 2020 election cycle -- Georgia is just one example -- we see that Harris was right. VSZ: What’s one thing you wish naysayers would stop saying about VP-elect Harris? TC: There will always be naysayers. That’s inevitable. And they each are entitled to their opinion. I just encourage everyone with an opinion to have an informed opinion. I would challenge people who suggest she’s not Black unless it’s convenient, or that she didn’t make any progress in reforming the criminal justice system during her time as the DA of San Francisco or the GA of California. Also, as a first-generation American myself, I would simply say that Blackness goes beyond the borders of the United States. Being a part of a diaspora is a beautiful thing. I’m of the thought that we should embrace that, not belittle it. VSZ: In terms of legacy, what’s something you are proud of so far? TC: I’m proud that I, the daughter of immigrants and the granddaughter of people who could not readily read or write, turned out to be a journalist. I’m working toward my very own American dream, and having the opportunity to do that is my ancestor’s wildest dream. It always gives me a good feeling when I reflect on that. VSZ: How will you be spending the rest of 2020? TC: The rest of 2020 will be spent enjoying quality time with my grandmother. She’s getting up there in age and I like to relish in her company as much as possible. VSZ: What are you looking forward to? TC: I’m looking forward to having time away to reset. I’m also looking forward to a new year and all its many possibilities-- hopefully that includes the completion of my movie script and a deal. I’m dreaming big.
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THESE ARE A FEW OF MY FAVORITE THINGS BY: VIOLET SUMMER TEAM
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Le Court Tote Bag Le Court is a new basketball-inspired lifestyle brand, debuts with its first-ever product, the Le Tote (Bucket Bag). The handmade and handwoven tote bag takes a bold and innovative approach at reinterpreting the elements of a basketball rim and net.
1. LE COURT TOTE BAG LE COURT - $179
Fuggit®️ Crochet Knitted “Sneaker” Slippers reconstruct a classic from the future with the most comfortable materials available. This shoe is handmade with premium materials including microfiber yarns and a repurposed Eva sole. 2. FUGGIT®️ END SNEAKER VIOLENCE SLIPPERS $115
3. LOUIS VUITTON FUR EYE MASK
4. CUSTOMIZED POP CULTURE MINI RUGS @RUGRATSWORLDWIDE 17
5. BRANDON BLACKWOOD END SYSTEMIC RACISM TOTE BAG - $70 Brandon Blackwood End Systemic Racism Handbag: The namesake brand was founded by Jamaican / Chinese designer Brandon Blackwood. Blackwood grew up in both New York and Tokyo, with shorter stays around Southern Asia.
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6. Astrohaus Freewrite traveler: Freewrite was launched in 2014 with a mission: relieve digital distractions and provide a modern writing tool for serious writers. And it’s worked. Over 65 million words have been written on Freewrites and counting.
6. ASTROHAUS FREEWRITE TRAVELER - $500
7. EDGE NATURALE HAIR VITAMINS - $29.99
8. JADA.LIFE GOLD-PLATED SILVER LEAF PENDANT - $266
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BLOOD MOON BY: CAMERON JACKSON
A brown-skinned woman runs through the woods in a tatty oversized men’s jacket, holding a torch. Branches and leaves whip at her face. Overhead the glow of a blood moon seeps through the dense tree canopy. In the distance, something starts moving toward her. She looks back and sees a large pair of animal-like eyes approaching her. The creature grows closer, panting and crunching debris along the way. She turns and continues toward the clearing. The woman reaches the edge of the clearing. She dives headfirst as the beast is nearly on her. It too exits into the clearing revealing a large wolf-like exterior. It’s almost the size of a bear. The woman flips over as the creature leaps at her. She holds up two pistols, firing one at its head and the other at its heart. It lands on her, nearly crushing her before going motionless. She rolls the creature off and picks up her nearby extinguished torch. She lights again. Her gaze rests on the big house of a plantation ahead. A window at the big house opens to see flames ripping through the nearby crops. Master Goodman runs out of the house moments later. He stops when he sees the woman standing with her back to the fire facing him. His eyes echo the blaze of the flames. “Armenta?” he asks. “My name Harriet now,” she says. “That was my last beta. Most don’t survive the bite, let alone the first change. But I’m sure you know that. I’ve heard whispers of a shewolf.” he says.
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“And I’ve heard stories of curses like mine,” she starts. Master Goodwin interjects, “And how did these tales go?” Harriet and Master Goodwin begin pacing around each other in a circle, as flames grow nearer around them, billowing in the crisp night air. “If you find the beast that turned you, you have to consume its heart to break the curse,” she says, eyeing the blaze growing closer. Her former master’s eyes emit an amber-toned glow. “Tell me, do you recall being bitten or scratched?” he askes as he approaches to inspect her. Harriet puts out her arms to keep him at a distance. Master Goodwin eyes her talons and musters a dry laugh from deep in his belly. “They say it manifests differently in girls. Our kind is so rare, and there are even fewer females,” he starts. “I wanted to keep you close to the house to see if you had it, but you got so dark. The misses insisted that you go to the fields.” “No!” She growls at him, the weight of his words sinking in. Master Goodwin steps toward Harriet so quickly that his limbs blur. He grabs both of her arms to hold them at her sides, “ You’re mine twice over,” he exclaims. “The dizzy spells threw me off. But I see now. It was your body’s reaction to the change.” His face cracks into a twisted smile. Harriet raises her head to meet her father’s gaze. Her eyes now mirror the same amber hue. “You let me suffer alone,” she says.
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“I gave you a gift. And now you’ll bear me a litter. We can restore our kind,” says Master Goodwin. Harriet shakes her head. The clouds separate up above, revealing the moon again. Master Goodwin snarls and throws his head back as his body quivers. His bones crack and pop as his body contorts. He falls to the ground on all fours. “I encountered another female like me. She taught me some of our ways. And you’re right. It does manifest differently in women. We don’t change like you do.” She says as she begins to circle him. She howls up at the moon. A thick fur like layer of hair begins to sprout all over her body until it reaches her face. Master Goodwin’s body becomes encompassed by the same thick hair. His arms, legs, and torso start to grow three times their size. “But we’re faster and stronger,” she starts. She grabs him swiftly by the neck. “The only gift you gave me was the power to end you!” Harriet runs her talons across his neck and separates his head from his body. His beast-like form shivers before falling to the ground and shriveling back down to its pale form. A small slave child runs into the clearing. Harriet eyes them, Master Goodwin’s head still in her grasp. The child approaches Harriet and cautiously takes her hand. She howls up at the moon again before flinging Master Goodwin’s head into the fire.
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VINES OF MUSCADINES, AN EXCERPT BY: BRITTANY CARROLL
Uncle Donald Ray. He had my daddy’s nose. And so did all seven of my uncles. Uncle Allen. Uncle Preacher. Uncle Robert. Uncle PG. Uncle Bite. Uncle Bobba-Lee, not Bobby Lee. Wide and shiny. A true nigga nose if you ever see it. Almost as if God started molding the nose before the rest of the face. They all looked like my grandpa Solon. He died before I was born. 1984. There’s a picture of him that rest among all the family photos scattered around my grandma Rachel’s house. He’s standing in a field wearing overalls with suspenders and a ragged poor-boy’s hat. He’s never held me, but I’ve met him eight times. When I first met my Uncle Donald Ray, he looked like a skinny version of my father. He didn’t just walk. He trekked. Like he was always looking for something or someone. He had a blue ring around his iris like my Daddy. I discovered this blue iris when I was younger. I used to climb on top of my daddy while he was sleeping on the couch and push his eyelids open. He always would try to swat me away. But one time, when he was probably too exhausted, he barely budged when I inspected his face. I was always curious like that. I needed to know. Always.
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Who ever heard of dark-skinned black people with blue eyes? I was convinced that my family was special. The exception. A family full of dark black bodies with blue eyes. I discovered my uncle Donald Ray had a blue ring around his iris, too. Uncle PG, uncle Robert, and Uncle Bite had already passed away before my curiosity beckoned. But every family reunion, I would discover another uncle with a blue ring iris. My aunt Emma had a grey ring. I was content with knowing that if my nose spread wide like my daddy and the rest of them, at least the tradeoff would be that I too would develop this pronounced blue ring around my brown iris. Uncle Donald Ray was our wild card. Unconventional. But beloved. My first memories of him were during family reunions. His youngest daughter, Kiara, was just around the same age as me. We would run up and down the dirt road that sat between the Happy House and Uncle Donald Ray’s and grandma Rachel’s trailer. The ‘Happy House’ was and still is sacred. A small country shack with only one bedroom and a small back room housed my father, at least seven of his siblings, and his parents. Two exposed light bulbs and a small lamp barely lit the small shack. But it was lit just enough to see the smashed-up beer cans and peanut shells scattered along dusted floors. When I was younger, the house sat slightly above the ground. It always smelled like sweat and outdoors on the inside. When you walked in, you were standing in a relatively small space that was once the combined kitchen, dining and living room. When I was smaller, you could peak into the back room and see my grandparents’ original bed frame. Somehow the room filled up with too much stuff and you could only tilt your head and peak behind the door that never could fully open. The floorboards moved when you walked. Sometimes I could see slivers of light between the floorboards. It never seemed to bother my uncles, so it didn’t bother me. There were all types of weird gadgets, dirtied buckets, rusted metal pieces tucked in various corners. An old fire stove from antebellum times rusted beyond belief that it could still be used was firmly planted on the left side of
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the kitchen-dining-living room. Soot splattered around the curve of the exhaust. “Yes, sir-ree. This baby still works,” my Uncle Donald Ray would say with a grin. Uncle Donald Ray had made this shack into a man cave. By the time you finished looking down and around you would be completely overwhelmed when you looked up. My head used to spin after I finished looking up at the edges of the ceiling. Deer heads lined the walls from the front entrance of the door all the way round the house. It was beyond impressive and terrifying at the same time. My eyes would widen, mouth agape trying to count them all. And then I would occasionally glance at the stuffed squirrels ghastly perched on top of stacks of outdated newspapers. A string of furry tails strung together was nailed into the side of the wall. I was mesmerized and horrified at the same time. My uncle Donald Ray did all of this? All the uncles would gather inside this barely lit shack. Sometimes, I would walk in and they all would be sitting on an old church pew bench, folding chairs, or buckets flipped upside down--- all of which was probably salvaged from the Salvation Army or church throw away pile. Those eyes would stare into the barely lit shack, pensive, but happy. They were home. It felt like a council. A tradition. An ancestral rite. The male elders would converge into this little shack to talk about the state of the family and sometimes the world. Lineages of Ife, Bassa, Fulani, Mende, and Yoruba with southern accents. My curiosity was intruding on this sacred moment. But I was a child ripe with curiosity. My intrusion was uninvited but welcomed. My questions stroked their egos because they could teach me something. Show me something. Uncle Donald Ray would take that string of furry tails off the nail in the wall and let me feel it. “Go on. Touch it. Tell me what animal it is.”
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“A squirrel?” “Dat dere’s a fox tail.” “Why you kill a fox?” “Cuz it was in my way.”
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AN UNCERTAIN BIRTH BY: NICOLE LOCKHART
I heard a comedian once joke that “After 9/11 people still went home and had sex that day.” Let’s face it, the term baby boomer likely came from after World War II and The Great Depression when people were itching to start families they couldn’t in the harder years prior. Maybe 2020 is setting us up to work from home indefinitely or better yet for ourselves. After the worst of days, comes the best sex that births our new hope. The same quarantine which births a generation will also give birth to idea makers and businesses, calling us out of the 9-to-5 and back into playtime and creative origins. I talked to three women who experienced pregnancy or births in the most dramatic era of our lifetime. Here are some of the takeaways. Arielle is a doula and mom of two. One thing she knows is that babies are ‘chaos makers’--even planned ones. It has been tricky in her role as a doula navigating the pandemic changes. She cites that seeing less clients face-to-face or mask-to-mask hasn’t diminished her joy of caring for people. The most important thing for pregnant bodies is boundaries. You have to filter all the well-meaning advice, tune-out the cautionary tales, and of course keep hands-off your precious belly. Protect your baby. Protect your dreams. As a mother and a doula, she agreed that the responsibility for the future lies within each of us.
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“Having children in times like these makes you take a look at your life and what individual choices you’re making to make the world right for the next generation.” Of the first time mothers, Kristen and Morgan are excited to welcome their babies in 2020. Despite the terrifying news cycle, both moms believe having children is the most optimistic anecdote to the world of woes. While their well-check visits have moved virtually, their worries seem to have virtually disappeared. “I don’t worry as much now that I’m pregnant. Prior to becoming pregnant I had worries about the world.” Morgan said. “As long as you have support.” Morgan has found a support group of other moms-to-be that has moved their in-person meet-ups over Zoom. “It used to meet in person in Brooklyn,” she said from Philadelphia where she has been quarantined. “It doesn’t take a lot of money to
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raise a baby. But it does take a lot of support.” Having support is crucial to entrepreneurs and new mothers alike. Even if you’re not birthing a business right now, offer your support to your friends who are. Morgan, whose boyfriend is an essential worker, said that the pandemic has her considering her job and relocating out of the city permanently. Something Kristen has been considering as well. As a make-up artist, Kristen travels a lot for a job she is learning doesn’t fulfill her like it did in the beginning of her career. It was time to pivot. She made some big changes in her life prior to becoming pregnant that set her up for a big awakening during the pandemic. Instead of traveling, Kristen is now enjoying downtime in Miami while they await the baby’s arrival. She says her pregnancy has been ‘effortless’ and she manifested this moment in her life to accomplish two goals: to become a mother and to start her own business. “It’s hard to be motivated to do what you don’t love.” Kristen said. “I’ve just been using this time to grow this baby and figure it out.”
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“Protect your baby. Protect your dreams.”
Logging off has been her go-to method for getting clear and keeping herself free from worries. “I can’t believe I’m bringing a baby into this shit,” she begins. “But there are things you can control [like how much news you’re consuming]... You can dwell on the fact that the world is shitty or do things to encourage them [your children] to change the world.” If we can find a way to tune our minds and ears away from the distractions, I believe this is where we’ll find the inspiration to raise thoughtful children and start pursuing our dreams. None of us have the time we think we have. But then again, none of us thought 2020 would look quite like this. Sometimes the clarity comes only after crying. Other times it comes in the quiet of darkness. This time it arrived in a pandemic. We’re expecting that this year may still bring good things. That like the Corona-babies not yet arrived, we can still be optimistic in our hopes for the future. For there is something beautiful about birthing a new thing in an uncertain season.
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LEGACY JOURNALING PROMPTS 1. Write about your most proud accomplishment thus far? 2. Have a conversation with your oldest living relative. Ask them what life was like when they were your age. 3. What do you want to teach / bestow to your offsprings? 4. Famous last words??
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Scan the barcode to listen to our journaling custom audio track.
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FALL 2020 MOOD THE LEGACY COLLECTION SHOP NOW WWW.VIOLET-SUMMER.COM
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CLUBHOUSE APP: THE POWER OF THE COMMUNITY BY: MELSSA HENDERSON
The Clubhouse App is the latest way to interact on social media and it’s audio only with the exception of your profile picture. So far, the app boasts roughly 100K users who are quickly navigating the new eco-system of social networking. There are clubs and when you go to “the hallway,” you will be served different chat rooms with catchy titles. If you swipe left on the screen, you’re able to start a room with whoever you are following. Created by Paul Davison and Rohan Seth and backed by venture capital firm Andreessen Horowitz, Clubhouse is a platform where users can participate in different chat rooms on a wide range of topics. The moderators of the discussion allow different users to speak, and new people who enter the room can simply chill in the background and listen or raise their hand to contribute to the discussion. The idea is to communicate in a way that is authentic and in real time. You can create clubs that attract your tribe or likeminded people. The App is just seven months old and it has already brought together people from all different walks of life. It’s like Soho House, you never know who you’ll meet in a room. The other day, I was in a room with Tiffany Haddish and Dr. Henry Louis Gates, the
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guy from PBS we grew up watching. Check your attitude at the door. There’s value of being authentic and there’s also a system of accountability. People are curating who they nominate onto the platform, as this connection is featured on individual user profiles. Audio files are end-to-end encrypted and are not stored. The report feature includes a detailed list of possible grievances including, but not limited to bullying and harassing, trademarking, misinformation, and stalking. Recording is absolutely not tolerated, unless the entire room consents to having someone take business-related notes to send to people. I’m fairly new to the platform. Orientation is a must. All new members have a party emoji hat on their profile for a week and welcome parties take place at any given time of the day. I’ve already optimized my life in ways I did not expect. I popped into a chat about pan-africanism and dowries that engaged my attention for hours, but I’ve also came across some cool tech innovators in the digital rights space. Having written numerous pieces of content about what was lacking on other platforms, it’s a breath of fresh air to hear someone speak. You can tell a lot by a person’s voice. As of now, Clubhouse is adding about 2,000 users per day by other clubbers nominating people via text as well as suggesting to people already on the platform. As much as this sounds like a trend, we’ve all felt the need to connect more intimately. I’m cautiously optimistic on how it will be scaled once the app platform goes public. The community is already forming a sheild of trust with so many sensitive discussions happening daily. Will the power and organic nature of people post-corona, post-pandemic, post-election and the need for people to really converse bring us close together? 37
HARRIET TUBMAN’S SECRET HIDEAWAY W/ MY GRANDPA BY: MELISSA HENDERSON
Where are you from?” This is the question I am asked most frequently, beginning in my college years. Going to school in New York presented my first real opportunity to forge an identity, which I had no choice but to navigate. I often answered, “I’m Black American.” But my response wasn’t enough for a lot of people. As if being a person of color isn’t enough. I needed to provide them with more. Later in life, I would learn how to articulate my heritage as a fifth-generation American—descending from people who were conductors of the Underground Railroad, American Indians, as well as Quakers from the 1600s. I aim to tell this story as a different narrative: one that may not be all wrought with pain and suffering. Here’s the story of my connection to Harriet Tubman. I always knew I was an outspoken beach bum, from my childhood spent on the beaches of Cape May to my twenties spent islandhopping as a freelance writer. Yet, unpacking my family tree and its deep history of freeing people from their oppressors was something I was unprepared to face as I searched on Ancestry. Sure, I heard a few huge anecdotes about how people on my mom’s side are related to John Wilkes Booth. I fondly remember my great-grandma telling us about Betsy Ross sewing the flag. “Grandma, you mean the American flag?!” we reacted in surprise, because we knew she was old—but not that old! Of course, I knew my other grandmother was involved with the NAACP, but I didn’t know she held an executive
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position until I was able to read a newspaper clipping from the 1960s on Ancestry. But people on my paternal side have been estranged from my life, and to this day, I still don’t understand why everyone is so distant. So I started my search on my dad’s side of the family. I wanted to know more about my grandmom and her Cape May roots. On Ancestry, I typed in a few names and a bunch of “leaves,” which are hints that popped up on my grandmother’s side. As I started to make these connections, the story was as clear as day: My ancestors have been occupying this town since the late 1700s. According to some family documents, my grandmother’s family on the paternal side can be traced by grave markers and census reports from 1830. Her great-grandfather was Reverend Edward C. Turner, who started a church in the 1800s in Cape May. Today, a document archived in the town’s real estate office details the selling of land to my great-grandfather, who used it to start the Union Bethel Settlement. This same church would go on to be a stop on the Underground Railroad that Harriet Tubman frequented. An excerpt from Emma Marie Trusty’s The Underground Railroad remarks
“It was said that Tubman made Cape May her home during her rest periods, where she could work and save up energy for the next fugitive missions.”
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that “some members of the Union Bethel community functioned as station masters. Others were said to have hidden slaves in a cave near Cape May Point and on Edward Turner’s farm. Family ties and friendships transcended church denominations. Urban church communities functioned as one soil on the Underground Railroad when the need arose” (Cape May Magazine, September 2009). Union Bethel is now owned by Cape May County, apparently, but in the 1800s, because of its remote location, it was the perfect location for Black people escaping slavery in the South. When I made my way back to Cape May in the summer of 2019 to see what was left of Union Bethel, its location was not shown on Google Maps. I had to drive down a dirt and paved road to find the dilapidated gravestones and signage. I could hardly read them, but I felt the ancestors’ presence around me. Strangely enough, on the drive to this place, I knew exactly where I was going. The census said my great-grandfather was a fisherman who had nine children. But in reality, in the 1800s, he was a highly revered man in the Black community and was heavily involved in anti-slavery movements in the North. He and Harriet Tubman probably held secret meetings, and I’m sure he helped her get a job in Cape May so she could save up for her 19 missions back to Dorchester, Maryland, to get her people. Thanks to my great-grandfather’s expertise as a fisherman, he was able to guide fugitive slaves across the Delaware Bay. According to a blog post published in 2001, “A boat operated between Cape May and Lewes, Delaware, then, as it does currently. At night, local mariners operated a route across the Delaware Bay, ferrying slaves across.” Our ancestors weren’t just helpless slaves. Moreover, I’m not going to dismiss the fact that Cape May went through its own patch of slavery, but as my relatives told me and what I grew up knowing, it was just for a brief time. The region’s legal system was moral-leaning and believed that the Bill of Rights made all men equal and free. At one point during the 1860s, Black people were 30% of the population in Cape May. The Ancestry genealogist suggested that my ancestors were probably abolitionists since our roots in Philadelphia run deep—like 1690 deep. Furthermore, because Cape May was founded by Dutch settlers and frequented by Quakers from
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Philadelphia, it’s highly likely that Black people shared this identity. Still, Cape May was developing into today’s overpopulated town on the peninsula. A port for cruise ships and exotic seafood deliveries is still there, but it was much simpler back then. Still, when I returned to Cape May with a different set of eyes, I was eager to rediscover and look at places I rode past on my bike while growing up. It was said that Tubman made Cape May her home during her rest periods, where she could work and save up energy for the next fugitive missions. I wonder what Tubman did with her “free time”? What was known as Poverty Beach in the 1900s is now an extension of the main beach on Ocean Drive. Back when photos were shot in black-and-white, this was the beach poor people went to in Cape May. When we talk about landownership, I think of the people who have lost their property to the tourism and real estate boom. Even my great-grandfather’s church is owned by the Cape May Historical Society, and there are new housing developments around the Underground Railroad passageway. At one point, my family owned a whole row of homes in the center of Cape May. It has since been taken over by a shopping mart featuring a cool Acme. (This is sarcasm.)
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Back then, my family didn’t have fancy lawyers or people on our side to fight for the land’s value. They died off or settled for a lump sum of money that they never had access to due to old age. When we talk about reparations, I think of their houses and what my family has done for the Black community. I could go on about how Harriet Tubman probably came over for family dinners after her shifts at The
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Lobster House. She became like a modern-day Moses, using the North Star to guide her, and the people who were brave enough, to freedom. Of course, she made friends along the way, some in Cape May, as demonstrated by the historic Underground Railroad landmark and reenactments that still take place every year. Church leaders like my greatgrandfather Edward Turner and other predecessors of Violet Summer, my great-grandmother, were her allies on these dead-of-night missions. It was said that during her rest periods, Tubman made Cape May her home, where she would work and renew her energy for the next fugitive missions. This is why Violet Summer loves Cape May. I started this journey curious about my grandmother’s connection to Cape May and some family documents amid a seriously long writing hiatus. After restless nights of thinking about who these people were that I found on Ancestry, and now, having these concrete historical figures to lean on, my toughest days ahead will be my greatest weapons for business in 2020. I create with these people’s stories in mind, as well as with a deep connection to culture and the many ways urban narratives should be told.
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FREEDOM OF CONNECTIVITY BY: MELISSA HENDERSON
The future of messaging is upon us as three entities race to the finish line to own the marketplace. What I am talking about is the luxury of texting anybody, on any platform without having to switch programs could actually become the norm, if big tech companies unite. I’ll be highlighting how the future of messaging involves standardizing Rich Communication Services (RCS) among telecoms (Verizon, AT&T, Google) and Over-The-Top (OTT) platforms (WhatsApp, We Chat, Facebook), so that consumers like us can enjoy a better user experience. Today most people communicate within the realm of the green bubble and blue bubble SMS communication signals. If you’re on a blue bubble, you’re most likely sending a message from an iOs/ Apple system, and are exposed to the many privileges of having a technologically-savvy phone that is only less than 15% of the world’s usage. However, with over 80% of the market share, Android is the dominant smartphone when it comes to the penetration rate, as well as the cost of the technology. According to Es Lee, the founder of the Mei App, a messaging app will likely be the most valuable piece of technology in the world within the next decade. The winner takes all approach will dictate how freely people will be able to communicate.
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Battle of the Inboxes In the US, over six billion texts are sent on a daily basis. In the UK a total of 217 million texts are sent, add another 100K texts that I send a month, and we’re talking a huge volume of data that is waiting to be monetized. Depending on your age and region, Facebook may be your primary source of communication. Gen Zers communicate on TikTok and Snapchat. Then there’s Instagram and WhatsApp which is a popular choice for Millennials and new-age digital-first business owners. I was talking with a boutique owner in Cape May, New Jersey about how Facebook is the primary method of communication. “They don’t have a website or Instagram, but they have 5,000 reviews on Facebook.” the carpenter by trade commented. No matter how many messaging inboxes we are checking a day, the user experience sucks. Now that we are living in a virtual-first world, the freedom to connect online will become an even greater challenge because Google, the Telecoms, Apple and Facebook refuse to unite and pick a standard of technology. Here’s the deal: 85% of the world is powered by Android, but Facebook still had skin in the game with their two billion accounts. In efforts to keep users on the platform, they’ll integrate and acquire advanced communications methods that will change and alter everything. Recently, Facebook announced “cross-app messaging” which makes it convenient to message people on Facebook and Instagram, as long as your accounts are merged. Mark Zukerberg outlined his manifesto for the future of the internet and communicating privately last year and it’s already being integrated on the platform. On the flip side, cross-messaging may be new to Facebook’s platform but the idea is similar to the RCS Steering Committee. The committee consists of Google, Verizon, AT&T, etc who want to make phone messaging and phone service more accessible without having to add anything from an app store or carrier download section. This would also eliminate the need for multiple devices.
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Essentially, if your phone provider and apps adopt RCS, they would conform on the backend and make it easier for people who want to video call Android users with an Apple phone. Our current system is not this fluid. As a result, people started moving away from SMS when modern technology of photo sharing became the king of content and primarily attraction to other platforms. Still, RCS was able to adapt even when smartphones took over the market place in the early 2000s and the demand increased and so did functionalities of what smartphone users expect. The disagreement is costing us but there’s huge capital gains for the winning entity. OTT social messaging platforms and Apple do not follow RCS guidelines because RCS companies do not guarantee end-to-end encryption. Your phone number and the activity you garner on it is still accessible to traditional phone carriers. Google says it will delete the message once its delivered but attachments are stored until all parties download the message. Phone carriers can access your phone records. This is the reason why Facebook does not want to join the RCS bandwagon. Not providing end-to-end encryption is probably an oversight in policy or maybe it has something to do with the Communications Decency Act, Section 230, when essentially the government updated the laws to mandate eavesdropping on our phone conversations in efforts to beef up national security and prevent terrorist attacks. Which is interesting because Verizon, T. Mobile, and Google are not responsible for the de facto Russian interference of the 2016 Presidential Election. Facebook is! Right now, the world is divided into three entities: Apple ( the blue bubble squad), OTT ( Facebook/Messenger, Instagram, TikTok), and Google and the Telecom clan (green bubble squad). They all want to be the leading SMS messaging empire because there are so many text messages sent on a daily basis. The key to aggregating messaging and the way people use and interact with it on these platforms will define the next frontier in monetization.
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But I digress, wouldn’t it be nice to connect freely from Google Hangouts to Apple Facetime to WhatsApp without having to login to several platforms or be using the same platform? In a perfect world, communication companies would adopt the same standard. Only time will tell if technology tycoons will work together. afterall, messaging is the #1 activity on a phone. Until then, we’ll be lobbying for more RCS unity.
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NEW YORK IS VERY MUCH ALIVE BY: JASMIN MATTHEWS
The character Daniel Bae played by Charles Melton in the movie The Sun Is Also A Star said, “No one ever does that… look up. Everyone’s so busy looking straight ahead they don’t bother to look up.” Yeah, it’s important to look straight ahead because you need to know where you’re going and no one wants to get taken out by a car, bike, or fellow pedestrian. But if you think about it, NYC forces you to look up whether you want to or not. Looking up is just as relevant as looking both ways before you cross the street. You look up to see the top of a building. You look up to see what’s being advertised on a billboard. You look up at the traffic light to see if that car will run a red light. When you raise your gaze whether it’s at the clear blue sky or the iconic gotham city lights admist the stars, it feels rewarding. The city was literally built for you to lift your eyes from whatever you’re doing, so why not every now and then?
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THE LAST OF 18 SHOTS ANCESTRY.COM TRANSLATION: Three guys were drinking in an abandon warehouse or “coach shop� when a fight broke out. They all pulled out their pistols and started shooting. Each man emptied their revolver. Eighteen shots were fired and Stephen Booth ( a distant relative) was instantly killed, piercing his left breast. The last of 18 shots. When the cops arrived, he was found dead in front of the doorstep. His alleged assailants Nathan Wilmer and John Gibbs fled the scene of the crime but were latered found in the nieghborhood and arrested. According to the newspaper clipping, they made no resistance but insisted that Booth had been the agressor. The men were both given a hearing and held to answer to the charge of murder.
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THEY HAVE THE RANGE BY: VIOLET SUMMER MUSIC They Have The Range features the world’s most popular and unpopular singers. The brand was founded in 2016 by industry insider Branford Jones and has garnered over a million followers across Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, and Clubhouse. Singers across the globe share their melodic vocal cords, seeking feedback and love from others in the entertainment community. My favorite thing about this platform is the way Jones curates singing challenges by paying homage to beloved songs like SUV’s Rain On Me to Jazmine Sullivan’s Insecure. Thousands of amateur and professional singers participate in these social contests that provide nostalgic moments for the greats to reflect on their craft while allowing the next generation of singers to shine. Check out @TheyHaveTheRange on all platforms.
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2020 GOT ME FEELING LIKE... BY: CARA MCCLELLAN
1. In this time when we are afraid of losing our parents And our sons, and our daughters, Because even during a respiratory pandemic, They kneeled on George Floyd’s throat--It feels hard to see beyond each day. A year of quarantine, a summer of unrest, Will not heal these centuries of scars. We know there is no vaccine for racism. Fuck the DNConvention-Police are using chemical weapons against protesters. And Whitey’s racing to the vaccine moon, While our children cannot go to school. They will feel this gap of time for generations, The loneliness and fear Sitting in the pit of their mother’s bellies, It’s the reason for all the yelling and hunger. We cannot just close our eyes to this, And yet we must see something else. We have done this before: Built gardens, woven rhythms, Danced under the rainbows of fire hydrants And even in shackles, marveled at the moon.
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2. I have been trying to remember how to open my third eye Started writing love poems in solitude And listened to the stories of my 3-year-old nephew, Because he still believes in magic. I have prayed. And rediscovered beauty. A mural on an abandoned building, Where Harriet looks like she is part of the river, Just as the legend goes. God has told us to be still. We have no choice but to obey. And to rediscover the art of imagination Which has always been our survival.
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I’M SPEAKING. -United States Madam Vice President, Kamala Harris
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BLACK PEOPLE FLOURISHING: ELLE LORRAINE
BY: ARAMIDE TINUBU
Black people are well acquainted with loss. This year, which started so full of promise, has in many ways suffocated humanity. We are sitting in a moment when isolation and distance are necessary for survival. From personal loss to the deaths of titans like Black Panther star Chadwick Boseman, we have all been staring down a barrel into the unknown. Yet, despite the struggle, Black storytelling is emerging like never before. This year has delivered the first Black-led Disney/Pixar film, Soul, starring Jamie Foxx, and romances like, The Photograph. Spike Lee has blessed us with his first Joint of the new decade, the Vietnam-set
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Da 5 Bloods, and Black women’s stories like Miss Juneteenth, The Forty Year-Old Version, and Beyoncé’s Black Is King have been a significant part of the film conversation. We are no longer asking for permission to tell our stories; we present them on our own terms. Despite the successes of the past year, things are not perfect. Colorism, stereotypes, and the struggle for representation are all battles we are still fighting. However, in a year that has given us Jingle Jangle, a Christmas-themed film with a smiling Black girl at the center, and brought Ta-Nehisi Coates’ Between the World and Me to the small-screen, there is much to celebrate. Filmmakers Regina King and Justin Simien have put their stamps on complex projects like One Night In Miami and Bad Hair, which have spotlighted a whole new generation of actors. One such newcomer is Elle Lorraine. Though many Insecure fans will undoubtedly recognize Lorraine as Trina, Issa’s loud and no-nonsense neighbor in the HBO sitcom, with Bad Hair, she gets to spread her wings. In Simien’s layered horror, cultural commentary thriller, Lorraine stars as Anna, an ambitious executive assistant at a fictional 106 & Park-like TV Show, Culture, who is pushed to cover up her soft and pillowy coils for a weave. Set in the late 1980s, Bad Hair captures the nuances of Black Womanhood and our centuries-long obsession with our hair. Except for the ‘90s, there has never been a moment when films like Bad Hair, and the forthcoming 1950s -set romance Sylvie’s Love could exist in the same year. But something is changing. Amid the chaos and confusion of our current social and political time, Black people are demanding to be heard. One thing remains certain — we are just getting started.
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CREDITS///
COVER PHOTO Courtesy of: Alessandro Sacchi Layout Design: Ana Lua Caiano Uncertain birth: Photos of Morgan Henderson by SugaShoc Photography visit sugashocphotography.com for more information. Photos of Kristen Courtesy of Kristen Subscribe to our newsletter by Scaning the barcode
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