Podcasts about black southerners

fWotD Episode 3332: Atlanta Compromise Welcome to featured Wiki of the Day, your daily dose of knowledge from Wikipedia's finest articles.The featured article for Friday, 19 June 2026, is Atlanta Compromise.The Atlanta Compromise (also known as accommodation or accommodationism) was a proposal put forth in 1895 by African American leader Booker T. Washington in a speech he gave at the Cotton States and International Exposition. He urged Black Southerners to accept segregation and to temporarily refrain from campaigning for equal rights, including the right to vote. In return, he advocated that Black people would receive basic legal protections, access to property ownership, employment opportunities, and vocational and industrial education. Upon the speech's conclusion, the white attendees gave Washington a standing ovation.Under the direction of Washington's Tuskegee Machine organization, the Compromise was the dominant policy pursued by Black leaders in the South from 1895 to 1915. During this period, the educational infrastructure for Black people improved, with a focus on vocational schools and schools for children. However, Southern states continued to aggressively adopt Jim Crow laws which codified segregation in nearly all aspects of life. Violence against Black people continued: over fifty Black people were lynched most years until 1922. Beginning around 1910 – contrary to the advice offered by Washington in his speech – millions of African Americans began migrating northward, relocating to major urban centers in the North.The proposal was met with opposition from other Black leaders – most notably W. E. B. Du Bois – who rejected the Compromise's emphasis on accommodation, and instead advocated for full civil rights and the immediate end of segregation. From 1903 until Washington's death in 1915, the two figures engaged in an extended public debate over the direction of African American advancement. In 1905, opponents of the Compromise formed the Niagara Movement, which served as the forerunner to the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), established in 1909.The Atlanta Compromise ultimately failed to end segregation or secure equal rights for Black people in the South; those goals were not significantly advanced until the civil rights movement of the 1960s. Historians continue to debate the effectiveness of Washington's strategy as a means of advancing racial equality. In the first half of the 20th century, opinion was shaped by the views of Du Bois, who maintained that direct protest was a more effective path to equality than accommodation. Scholarship in the latter half of the century was more sympathetic to Washington, with many arguing that the overwhelming political and economic dominance of white society left him with no alternative. Scholars have also analyzed whether Washington's advocacy of accommodation reflected a genuine personal conviction or – conversely – was a tactical response to the social and political constraints of his time.This recording reflects the Wikipedia text as of 00:06 UTC on Friday, 19 June 2026.For the full current version of the article, see Atlanta Compromise on Wikipedia.This podcast uses content from Wikipedia under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License.Visit our archives at wikioftheday.com and subscribe to stay updated on new episodes.Follow us on Mastodon at @wikioftheday@masto.ai.Also check out Curmudgeon's Corner, a current events podcast.Until next time, I'm neural Salli.

In 1881, African American educator and political leader Booker T. Washington founded Tuskegee Institute in Tuskegee, Alabama. The school's mission was to provide practical education and vocational training in fields such as agriculture and mechanics to African Americans in the post-Reconstruction South. Tuskegee ultimately became a world-renowned agricultural and industrial school for African Americans – and actually for all people. Today, we're speaking with Duke University's Jarvis McInnis about his award-winning book Afterlives of the Plantation: Plotting Agrarian Futures in the Global Black South. Interview Transcript Jarvis, I cannot tell you how much I appreciate this book. And hopefully we'll make a link to the Franklin Humanities gathering (https://youtu.be/rfSy1lWWOwA?si=dVcWH3xDBuBStEEc) that we had for your book launch. As I said at that time, and I'll say it right now, this book resonated with me so deeply because of my rural upbringing. My experience as a son, a grandson of farmers and agricultural workers. And someone who grew up in the 4-H Club down South. Hopefully we will get to some of those topics as we go through. So, let's start off with a real basic idea. Could you give our readers an overview of what the book is? And also, about what you mean by the Afterlives of the Plantation. Yes, absolutely. Thank you so much for that question, Norbert. The book is an effort to think about the cultural and intellectual and political ties between Southern African Americans and Afro-Caribbean people in the late 19th to early 20th Century as they were responding to the legacies of slavery, right? This is the period after emancipation, and across the hemisphere. And so, I'm really interested in the way that they are sharing ideas as they are confronting the new modes of racial oppression that emerged in slavery's aftermath. In the United States, you have Jim Crow, right? Segregation, and other forms of violence and dispossession like lynching and land dispossession and so forth and so on. And then in the Caribbean, in Latin America, you have institutions like the European colonialism, and US imperialism, right? And so that is the afterlife of slavery. They're emancipated, but it's not a period of full citizenship, right? Of full access to the rights and privileges of citizenship. And so in telling that story, I center Booker T. Washington's school, the Tuskegee Institute, which was founded on the site of an abandoned and burned cotton plantation in Alabama in 1881. And this is getting at the second part of your question. I became really fascinated by what it meant to establish a school, to establish a future-oriented institution, that's committed to uplifting Black people. To establish that on the site, on the ruins of a burned plantation. And, in some ways, I became curious about that as an undergraduate student because I'm a graduate of Tougaloo College, in Tougaloo, Mississippi, which is a historically black college much like Tuskegee. And much like Tuskegee, Tougaloo was also founded on the site of a former cotton plantation. And I saw that this idea, or this practice, this logic of transforming these sites of violence into something that is more liberatory and more emancipatory was really a strategy that Black people used throughout the US South and throughout the Caribbean. Throughout much of the Americas where slavery and the plantation had existed. I placed Tuskegee, and particularly its approach to agriculture, at the center of that story to demonstrate how an institution rooted in the US South is not backward. It's not pre-modern. That's firmly rural, but that rurality... they're taking the knowledge that's cultivated there and disseminating it to other Black people in other parts of the world to aid in their struggles toward freedom and citizenship. I think this is an important point to make. And I know we've had conversations about this as you were developing the book. And I'll just say again, out of my rural Southern agricultural background, I often found a sense that people thought, oh, well you must be backward. Oh, you must come from this... and that's not a good thing. I can only imagine that people of this time must have thought, well, shouldn't people want to move away from agriculture? Why would you want to be invested in this thing that was a part of former enslavement? How do you think about this in light of this notion of agrarian futures? You would think people would want to move away from that. What is your understanding of sort of this move towards agriculture and seeing this as something for the future and even modern. That's such a great question. And I, you know, I have to say that I came to agriculture relatively late in the project. I was initially most interested in what Tuskegee was doing with Black aesthetics: with photography and with music and with literature. I'm a literary scholar after all. But as I sat with Tuskegee's aesthetic output, I realized the significance of agriculture within that. And as I began to explore the ways that Tuskegee was being disseminated to other parts of the Black world, to places like Haiti, to places like Puerto Rico. And as they were admitting students from those particular colonies at that time. Now some of them are countries; Puerto Rico is still a territory. But I realized that what other Black people, both in the US South and abroad, were interested in was its agrarian vision. Was the work, the research that someone like George Washington Carver was doing at Tuskegee and as a mode of self-help. And so I really had to wrestle with that because it was outside of how I had conceived of agriculture. And in many ways, writing this book transformed my own understanding of what the modern was. And, you know, forced me to, or perhaps invited me, to think about agriculture to understand it as intellectual. To understand it certainly as a skill, in all of these ways that I had not really given much thought to it previously. But as I sat with George Washington Carver's bulletins. As I sat with Tuskegee's extension initiatives. As I sat with the knowledge that they were producing, the various print cultural artifacts, the newspapers. And again, the agricultural bulletins and so forth and so on. I realized, wait a minute. This is a site of knowledge production, and its modern up-to-date knowledge production that actually still has a lot of sound basis that can be used in contemporary agriculture to this very day. And so, it radically transformed my understanding of Tuskegee, of a figure like Booker T. Washington. who as we know, is a much-maligned figure in Black studies and American studies because of his conservative politics. But agriculture gave me another way into that institution and to think about, again, the significance of the cultural and intellectual contributions of the US South at this particular period. Thank you for that. I want to talk about a particular section of the text that has to do with both the agricultural philosophy, but also this idea of sharing information, and you've made some reference to it. So, I grew up, as I mentioned, going and being a part of the 4-H program, which was a part of the Cooperative Extension System. And Tuskegee, in many ways, helped form and helped inform what extension would look like. Which ultimately became a thing, federally, in 1914. But I want to read this one passage from your text, and you say: "In 1897, the state of Alabama passed legislation allocating $1,500 to establish an agricultural experiment station on campus. The station also known as the Experiment Plot." And plot is something you come back to. And I would love to hear your thoughts about this garden plot and the Experiment Plot and just the metaphor of plot throughout your text. "But the station also known as the Experiment Plot, was managed by George Washington Carver. Washington insisted that the experiment station ' should not be used for scientific experiments of interest only to experts. Should deal with the fundamental problems with which the Negro Farmers of Alabama were daily confronted.' The results of Carver's experiments were thus published in bulletins that were then distributed among farmers throughout Alabama and the broader US South." And then you go on and talking about the different courses that were made available. But I wanna get this one quote from the Tuskegee student. And you said the Tuskegee student observed: 'Tuskegee Institute is primarily a school for the masses of our people. Both old and young and in all degrees of development.' I mean, Tuskegee was doing something that other land grant institutions would eventually take on, is this idea of sharing knowledge and using this. As a means of uplift and I would say even citizen building. What are your thoughts about that sort of perspective? Yeah. Yeah. I'm going to try to wrap all of those questions up into one response. We'll see how successful I am. I know I gave you a lot. Well, one of the things that I wanted to say, that I did not get a chance to say in my response to your previous question is that, you know, the majority of African Americans lived in the South in this particular period. And many of them viewed agriculture as a viable future. And that was one of the aspects of, you know, doing research on this book that was transformative for me. Was understanding that they did not hold this same necessarily, sort of, denigrating attitudes toward agriculture. In part because the United States was largely agricultural writ large, right? [00:11:00] And so it was across the country, across the color line, was regarded as a viable pathway. But it is the case that Booker T. Washington was attempting to rebrand agriculture, to re-signify it. Because there were a number of African Americans who did not want to have anything to do with it because it reminded them of the degradation of slavery. And so, what Washington said was he said, hey, you know, that there's a distinction between working and being worked, right? Being worked means degradation. Working for oneself, right? Being independent is a mode of civilization, is what he argued. And so what I argue in the book is that Washington is attempting to resignify labor, to make it something that is regarded as self-proprietorial, right? And that is a necessary tool in not just labor but agricultural labor in particular. But we can add, I would say, industrial labor also as something that is self-proprietorial and that is a part of that citizenship making project. So, I wanted to be sure to home in on that aspect of your previous question. And then I think the way into this next question is to talk a little bit about the plot. The slave garden plot. So, this idea in the book, right? The subtitle is Plotting Agrarian Futures. And there are multiple residences of the plot throughout the book. But the easiest way to, sort of, describe it is that it is an elaboration on the slave garden plot. The patches of land that enslaved people could cultivate throughout the Americas to grow foods to nourish themselves, because the rations that were provided from the plantation owners, those rations were too meager, right? A number of scholars and theorists across disciplines have theorized that the slave garden plot was a site of resistance to the plantation system. In part because it is enabling them to survive, to live, to nourish their bodies, right? But also because of what they did on the plot, right? Not only growing food, but also perhaps growing flowers. There's one scholar who regards it as the botanical gardens of the dispossessed, right? And so this idea that on these garden plots where they could cultivate food for themselves, their time was their own. They weren't growing food for sale on the global market, necessarily, or other cash crops for sale in the global market. They were growing foods that perhaps have been a part of their diets in Africa. And in addition to that, they were engaging in communal practices, singing, dancing, and sometimes perhaps even plotting revolutions, right? Another valence of the plot. And so, a scholar like Sylvia Winter establishes a kind of dichotomy between the plot and the plantation under enslavement. And when I realized that Tuskegeeans were also trying to encourage Black folks to grow food, and in doing so helping them to circumvent the predatory practices of sharecropping, of tenant farming, that would have those sharecroppers and tenant farmers to buy their foods from the local commissary and to remain in cycles of debt. And that of course, that they had an experiment station that they called an Experiment Plot. I thought, okay, this is the post emancipation iteration of the slave garden plot. It stands as a counterpoint to the plantation system, and it is imbued with these logics and ethics of care. And one of those logics and ethics of care is the dissemination of knowledge, right? Ensuring that rural Black farmers who were perhaps too old to attend Tuskegee, or could not afford to do so, that they could come to campus and learn the most up-to-date agricultural knowledge, right? And for those who couldn't come to campus, to attend the Tuskegee Farmers Conference, they would take the Jessup Agricultural Wagon into the countryside and teach them about crop rotation. Teach them about how to grow certain food crops, right? Teach them about how to grow certain plants to beautify their homes and so forth and so on. And so I think about that dissemination of knowledge, right? Whether it's those farmers coming to campus or Tuskegee taking those ideas into the countryside, as an ethic of care that is connected to the way that the plot exists as a counter to the plantation. Yeah. Wow, this is really wonderful. I love how you're able to weave in this agricultural philosophy that had deep resonance with people of the rural American South. But you also saw this as something that moved beyond the borders of the American South, and thus in your subtitle, the Global Black South. How did Tuskegee get involved in this transnational sharing of knowledge, and working in the Caribbean, and particularly, Puerto Rico, Haiti? Tell us a little bit more about that experience. Absolutely. Absolutely. Tuskegee really began to recruit students from the broader diaspora in the latter part of the 19th Century. So, around 1897. Certainly, the Caribbean, certainly Cuba and Puerto Rico, following the Spanish American War. And Booker T. Washington sent a Tuskegee student who was actually fluent in Spanish into Florida, and then later on to Havana, to recruit students to Tuskegee. He understood, he believed, that because they were experiencing conditions that were very similar to African Americans, they too were responding to the afterlife of slavery in the plantation. Given that emancipation in Cuba and Puerto Rico, in particular had just occurred in the late 1880s, he believed that their conditions were very similar to those of African Americans and that they could benefit from agricultural and industrial education as well. And there was a reformer by the name of Grace Mins. She was based in Boston. And she ensured that Booker T. Washington's autobiography, Up From Slavery, was translated into Cuban Spanish. And then that autobiography was then disseminated. A thousand copies were disseminated throughout the island of Cuba. And so as a result of that, he inspired, or the model of self-help that Washington depicted in Up From Slavery, inspired a host of Afro-Cuban readers. Students and parents and government officials and educational officials then begin to write to Tuskegee, write to Washington, wanting entry into the school. It's also translated into French, right? And so, you have French readers, particularly in a place like Haiti coming to Tuskegee. Someone by the name of the Jean Price Mars, who was the foremost Haitian intellectual of the 20th Century, actually met Washington in France when Washington was traveling there on vacation and became inspired by that model. A year later, he comes to the United States to attend the 1904 World's Fair and then spends two weeks at Tuskegee, learning those ideas and wanting to take them back to Haiti. So, through translation, right? Into different languages, those ideas then circulate throughout the Black world, but also through efforts to actively recruit students from those other places that Washington understood as experiencing a similar condition as African Americans. People whom he understood could benefit, he believed, could benefit from agricultural and industrial education. Great. And one of the things I loved in the way you talked about this in the text is you talked about not only translation but transplantation. And I thought that was an interesting turn of phrase because of what you were trying to communicate through that term. I want to, sort of, bring us up to some things that are currently happening. We just had a conference and you were a participant on a panel on humanistic issues around addressing food waste. And I've got to say, this was one of the panels that people really leaned into, that were really caught up by it. And you made some really insightful interventions based on some of the work that you've done in your book. So, you spoke about the anti-waste ethos at Tuskegee and I really found that interesting. Could you speak to that for a moment? Absolutely. Well, first I want to say thank you again for the opportunity to participate in that symposium. I really enjoyed it, and it really gave me an opportunity to think about various dimensions of a kind of anti-waste ethos at Tuskegee. And I think that there are a couple of different ways in which it manifested at the institution. So first there's a kind of metaphorical dimension to waste at Tuskegee. When Booker T. Washington writes to George Washington Carver to hire him, to recruit him to the institution. He said, I can't pay you a lot of money, but we have been tasked with helping to transform formerly enslaved people from conditions of waste to full manhood. Right? And so there is that sort of metaphorical, or what I would argue in the book is a kind of ontological understanding of waste, given the degraded status of the enslaved. And then there's a kind of philosophical dimension to waste as well. One, so Washington, Tuskegee, they are informed by the progressive era, right? It's a progressive era institution that's guided by a commitment to thrift and economy. And so, they're very much interested in a kind of practical attitude toward not being wasteful, right? To being thrifty with money, but also with resources. And what we see is, you know, complaints about food waste in the dining hall at Tuskegee, right? A very practical issue for a poor rural institution wherein the students are growing the food, right? Wherein the students are making the bricks, right? Are helping to transform this plantation into a school. We can't afford to waste food, right? But they're also teaching students and Black folks in the countryside how to preserve fruits and vegetables. There are these photographs of them teaching folks how to can and preserve fruits and veggies, right? To ensure that they have food throughout the winter months, so that they are not stricken by hunger and poverty and starvation. So that they aren't forced to borrow additional money from the plantation owners if they are indeed in sharecropping and tenant farming arrangements. And so, the last aspect I suppose of waste at Tuskegee that I want to highlight here is a kind of ecological one. Where in George Washington Carver is calling on farmers to take advantage of the quote unquote waste that is on their farms, right? The cow manure, right? To regenerate the soil. The swamp muck, right? The dead leaves, the night soil; to use that waste to regenerate the soil, to replenish it, right? In addition to practices of crop rotation and so forth and so on. And so that ecological dimension of waste is really important for understanding Tuskegee's ecological vision. I think this is so important because conversations around regenerative agriculture, and going back to, sort of, broader notions of traditional farming practices, minimizing the use of chemicals, people were talking about this. Folks like Carver were trying to find ways of using very little resources to help support the growers that he worked with. And we're hearing these echoes again and again. I'm so grateful that you illuminated that throughout your text. Thank you. I am not the only one who seems to have appreciated that because you won the 2026 Association for the study of African American Life and History Book Prize and the 2025 On the Brink book Award from the University of New Mexico School of Architecture and Planning. Why do you think this narrative of agricultural liberation is resonating with people so strongly? You know, first of all, Norbert, I just have to say how honored I am that the book has received these recognitions. And that it's finding its audiences. Audiences that I couldn't have imagined. Imagine my seeing my face when I opened the email to see that it had been acknowledged by both of these institutions. But especially the architecture and planning. I thought, oh my goodness. I, could not have, I could not have imagined this. So, I just want to say that I'm grateful first and foremost. You know, as I've been talking to people, you know, and as I've been moving around and talking to readers at my book tour, or people have been writing to me via email, what I've found is that the historians really appreciate the archival richness, and robustness of the text, right? So, the historians, the literary scholars, they really appreciate that aspect of the book. Many people, I think, also really appreciate the fact that it is giving us a new way to think about Tuskegee and Booker T. Washington. A place and a person who we thought we knew, right? And not in a flat way; a way that holds the complexity of that institution in place. And throughout the text, I really try to wrestle with the critiques, the valid and legitimate critiques that are coming from people like Ida B. Wells Barnett, and WEB Du Bois, about the limits of Booker T. Washington's political philosophy. But at the same time, I say, but if we don't acknowledge what they were doing through agriculture and by extension through aesthetics, then we're missing a really important part of this story, right? And I think that the book is giving us a model for thinking about how to engage in criticism that is both generative and productive, I suppose, right? Like how do we hold them to a particular standard where we say, you know, here are the limits of your political vision, but at the same time, this is what you enabled, right? And that's what the text is trying to do. And I think, you know, others have shared that they appreciate that it honors the intelligence and sophistication and dignity of Black rural people, of Black Southerners, who in my opinion, are often written out of Black studies in a way that is substantive. In a way that honors their contributions, especially in this period. The South is a space that people are simply fleeing from because of Jim Crow. And I'm saying, wait, what about the people who remain rooted in the land, on the land, either in the US South or in other sort of rural places throughout the diaspora. And then finally, I think that the book seems to be connecting to people who really care about our world. Who really care about the state of environmental degradation that we have found ourselves in as a result of institutions like the plantation, of monocrop agriculture, of industrialization in the way that it abuses, and misuses the earth. And so, because the book is invested in thinking about regeneration and repair, and about more sustainable methods from the past that can be useful for our present. I think that it seems to be connecting with readers who are interested in issues like climate change and environmental catastrophe. So that's what I suspect, based on some of the feedback that I have received. But I just want to reiterate just how grateful I am that it is finding its audience. BIO Jarvis C. McInnis holds a BA in English from Tougaloo College in Jackson, Mississippi, and a Ph.D. in English & Comparative Literature from Columbia University in the City of New York.  Jarvis is an interdisciplinary scholar of African American & African Diaspora literature and culture, with teaching and research interests in the global south (primarily the US South and the Caribbean), sound studies, performance studies, and visual culture. Jarvis's research has been supported by numerous grants and fellowships, including the Mellon Mays Undergraduate Fellowship, the Ford Foundation Pre-doctoral and Dissertation Fellowships, and Princeton University's Department of African American Studies postdoctoral fellowship. His work appears or is forthcoming in journals and venues such as Callaloo, MELUS, Mississippi Quarterly, Public Books, and The Global South.

The Great Migration saw more than six million African Americans leave the US South between 1910 and 1970. Though the experiences of migrant laborers are well-known, countless African Americans also left the South to pursue entrepreneurial opportunities and viewed business as key to Black liberation. Detroit's status as a mecca for Black entrepreneurship illuminates this overlooked aspect of the Great Migration story. In Freedom Enterprise, Kendra D. Boyd uses "migrant entrepreneurship" as a lens through which to understand the entwined histories of Black-owned business, racial capitalism, and urban space. Freedom Enterprise follows Black Southerners' journeys to Detroit during the initial wave of migration in the 1910s and 1920s, through their efforts to build a prosperous Black business community in the 1930s and 1940s, to the destruction of that community through urban renewal projects and freeway construction in the 1950s and 1960s. Combining business and social history methods to analyze an eclectic archive, Boyd chronicles migrant entrepreneurs' experiences, highlighting tales of racial and economic violence, Black women's business organizing, illegal business, communist entrepreneurs, and cooperative economics. Boyd uses the framework of racial capitalism to examine migrant entrepreneurs' experiences in twentieth-century America. In the Jim Crow South, African Americans worried about white mobs taking away their property, wealth, and lives. Though they sought refuge in Detroit, migrant entrepreneurs subsequently faced the loss of their livelihoods and the businesses they had spent decades building to the bulldozers of state-sponsored urban redevelopment initiatives. Southern migrants' "freedom enterprise"--their undertaking of attaining freedom through business--was curtailed by the reality of operating within the confines of US racial capitalism. In tracing Black entrepreneurs across the Great Migration, Freedom Enterprise provides important insights into African Americans' activism for racial and economic justice and continued racialized wealth disparities. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/history

The Great Migration saw more than six million African Americans leave the US South between 1910 and 1970. Though the experiences of migrant laborers are well-known, countless African Americans also left the South to pursue entrepreneurial opportunities and viewed business as key to Black liberation. Detroit's status as a mecca for Black entrepreneurship illuminates this overlooked aspect of the Great Migration story. In Freedom Enterprise, Kendra D. Boyd uses "migrant entrepreneurship" as a lens through which to understand the entwined histories of Black-owned business, racial capitalism, and urban space. Freedom Enterprise follows Black Southerners' journeys to Detroit during the initial wave of migration in the 1910s and 1920s, through their efforts to build a prosperous Black business community in the 1930s and 1940s, to the destruction of that community through urban renewal projects and freeway construction in the 1950s and 1960s. Combining business and social history methods to analyze an eclectic archive, Boyd chronicles migrant entrepreneurs' experiences, highlighting tales of racial and economic violence, Black women's business organizing, illegal business, communist entrepreneurs, and cooperative economics. Boyd uses the framework of racial capitalism to examine migrant entrepreneurs' experiences in twentieth-century America. In the Jim Crow South, African Americans worried about white mobs taking away their property, wealth, and lives. Though they sought refuge in Detroit, migrant entrepreneurs subsequently faced the loss of their livelihoods and the businesses they had spent decades building to the bulldozers of state-sponsored urban redevelopment initiatives. Southern migrants' "freedom enterprise"--their undertaking of attaining freedom through business--was curtailed by the reality of operating within the confines of US racial capitalism. In tracing Black entrepreneurs across the Great Migration, Freedom Enterprise provides important insights into African Americans' activism for racial and economic justice and continued racialized wealth disparities. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/american-studies

The Great Migration saw more than six million African Americans leave the US South between 1910 and 1970. Though the experiences of migrant laborers are well-known, countless African Americans also left the South to pursue entrepreneurial opportunities and viewed business as key to Black liberation. Detroit's status as a mecca for Black entrepreneurship illuminates this overlooked aspect of the Great Migration story. In Freedom Enterprise, Kendra D. Boyd uses "migrant entrepreneurship" as a lens through which to understand the entwined histories of Black-owned business, racial capitalism, and urban space. Freedom Enterprise follows Black Southerners' journeys to Detroit during the initial wave of migration in the 1910s and 1920s, through their efforts to build a prosperous Black business community in the 1930s and 1940s, to the destruction of that community through urban renewal projects and freeway construction in the 1950s and 1960s. Combining business and social history methods to analyze an eclectic archive, Boyd chronicles migrant entrepreneurs' experiences, highlighting tales of racial and economic violence, Black women's business organizing, illegal business, communist entrepreneurs, and cooperative economics. Boyd uses the framework of racial capitalism to examine migrant entrepreneurs' experiences in twentieth-century America. In the Jim Crow South, African Americans worried about white mobs taking away their property, wealth, and lives. Though they sought refuge in Detroit, migrant entrepreneurs subsequently faced the loss of their livelihoods and the businesses they had spent decades building to the bulldozers of state-sponsored urban redevelopment initiatives. Southern migrants' "freedom enterprise"--their undertaking of attaining freedom through business--was curtailed by the reality of operating within the confines of US racial capitalism. In tracing Black entrepreneurs across the Great Migration, Freedom Enterprise provides important insights into African Americans' activism for racial and economic justice and continued racialized wealth disparities. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/african-american-studies

The Great Migration saw more than six million African Americans leave the US South between 1910 and 1970. Though the experiences of migrant laborers are well-known, countless African Americans also left the South to pursue entrepreneurial opportunities and viewed business as key to Black liberation. Detroit's status as a mecca for Black entrepreneurship illuminates this overlooked aspect of the Great Migration story. In Freedom Enterprise, Kendra D. Boyd uses "migrant entrepreneurship" as a lens through which to understand the entwined histories of Black-owned business, racial capitalism, and urban space. Freedom Enterprise follows Black Southerners' journeys to Detroit during the initial wave of migration in the 1910s and 1920s, through their efforts to build a prosperous Black business community in the 1930s and 1940s, to the destruction of that community through urban renewal projects and freeway construction in the 1950s and 1960s. Combining business and social history methods to analyze an eclectic archive, Boyd chronicles migrant entrepreneurs' experiences, highlighting tales of racial and economic violence, Black women's business organizing, illegal business, communist entrepreneurs, and cooperative economics. Boyd uses the framework of racial capitalism to examine migrant entrepreneurs' experiences in twentieth-century America. In the Jim Crow South, African Americans worried about white mobs taking away their property, wealth, and lives. Though they sought refuge in Detroit, migrant entrepreneurs subsequently faced the loss of their livelihoods and the businesses they had spent decades building to the bulldozers of state-sponsored urban redevelopment initiatives. Southern migrants' "freedom enterprise"--their undertaking of attaining freedom through business--was curtailed by the reality of operating within the confines of US racial capitalism. In tracing Black entrepreneurs across the Great Migration, Freedom Enterprise provides important insights into African Americans' activism for racial and economic justice and continued racialized wealth disparities. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

The Great Migration saw more than six million African Americans leave the US South between 1910 and 1970. Though the experiences of migrant laborers are well-known, countless African Americans also left the South to pursue entrepreneurial opportunities and viewed business as key to Black liberation. Detroit's status as a mecca for Black entrepreneurship illuminates this overlooked aspect of the Great Migration story. In Freedom Enterprise, Kendra D. Boyd uses "migrant entrepreneurship" as a lens through which to understand the entwined histories of Black-owned business, racial capitalism, and urban space. Freedom Enterprise follows Black Southerners' journeys to Detroit during the initial wave of migration in the 1910s and 1920s, through their efforts to build a prosperous Black business community in the 1930s and 1940s, to the destruction of that community through urban renewal projects and freeway construction in the 1950s and 1960s. Combining business and social history methods to analyze an eclectic archive, Boyd chronicles migrant entrepreneurs' experiences, highlighting tales of racial and economic violence, Black women's business organizing, illegal business, communist entrepreneurs, and cooperative economics. Boyd uses the framework of racial capitalism to examine migrant entrepreneurs' experiences in twentieth-century America. In the Jim Crow South, African Americans worried about white mobs taking away their property, wealth, and lives. Though they sought refuge in Detroit, migrant entrepreneurs subsequently faced the loss of their livelihoods and the businesses they had spent decades building to the bulldozers of state-sponsored urban redevelopment initiatives. Southern migrants' "freedom enterprise"--their undertaking of attaining freedom through business--was curtailed by the reality of operating within the confines of US racial capitalism. In tracing Black entrepreneurs across the Great Migration, Freedom Enterprise provides important insights into African Americans' activism for racial and economic justice and continued racialized wealth disparities. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

On Nov. 7, 1972, Barbara Jordan of Texas and Andrew Young of Georgia made history as the first Black Southerners elected to Congress since Reconstruction. Their victories reshaped American politics and inspired generations of Black leaders, from John Lewis to Kamala Harris. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

On Nov. 7, 1972, Barbara Jordan of Texas and Andrew Young of Georgia made history as the first Black Southerners elected to Congress since Reconstruction. Their victories reshaped American politics and inspired generations of Black leaders, from John Lewis to Kamala Harris. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Lincoln Heights was full of hard-working Black people. The town's history dates back to the 1920s when Black Southerners migrated to the Northern California town because they were promised something crucial. _____________ 2-Minute Black History is produced by PushBlack, the nation's largest non-profit Black media company. PushBlack exists to amplify the stories of Black history you didn't learn in school. You make PushBlack happen with your contributions at BlackHistoryYear.com — most people donate $10 a month, but every dollar makes a difference. If this episode moved you, share it with your people! Thanks for supporting the work. The production team for this podcast includes Cydney Smith, Len Webb, and Lilly Workneh. Our editors are Lance John and Avery Phillips from Gifted Sounds Network. Julian Walker serves as executive producer. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

The presidents of the American Historical Association and Organization of American Historians join the podcast to talk about the effects of historical censorship, data shredding, meaningful public education – and what everyone can do to fight back. After being sworn in as the 47th president, Donald Trump issued a slew of executive orders. The order entitled “Defending Women from Gender Ideology Extremism and Restoring Biological Truth to the Federal Government” declares that “It is the policy of the United States to recognize two sexes, male and female. These sexes are not changeable and are grounded in fundamental and incontrovertible reality. Under my direction, the Executive Branch will enforce all sex-protective laws to promote this reality...” This order has swiftly affected what people may read on websites or museum panels that describe historical events and artifacts. As a new joint statement from the American Historical Association and the Organization of American Historians recounts, “Some alterations, such as those related to topics like the Tuskegee Airmen and the internment of Japanese Americans during World War II, have been hurriedly reversed in response to public outcry. Others remain. The scrubbing of words and acronyms from the Stonewall National Monument webpage, for instance, distorts the site's history by denying the roles of transgender and queer people in movements for rights and liberation. This distortion of history renders the past unrecognizable to the people who lived it and useless to those who seek to learn from the past.” Dr. Beth English is Executive Director of the Organization of American Historians. Her research and teaching focus on the historical and contemporary labor movement, working-class issues, globalization, deindustrialization, and women in the workplace. She is the author of A Common Thread: Labor, Politics, and Capital Mobility in the Textile Industry, and co-editor of Global Women's Work: Perspectives on Gender and Work in the Global Economy. She has contributed to the Washington Post, NPR, Vox, Huffington Post, The New Republic, and other media outlets. Dr. James R. Grossman is executive director of the American Historical Association. Previously, he was vice president for research and education at the Newberry Library, and has taught at University of Chicago and University of California, San Diego. Among his many publications are the award-winning books, Land of Hope: Chicago, Black Southerners, and the Great Migration and A Chance to Make Good: African-Americans, 1900–1929. His articles and short essays have focused on various aspects of American urban history, African American history, ethnicity, higher education, and the place of history in public culture. His public facing scholarship includes work published in the Chicago Tribune, New York Times, Los Angeles Times, Time, The Hill, The Chronicle of Higher Education, and Inside Higher Education. Grossman has consulted on history-related projects generated by the BBC, Smithsonian, and various theater companies, film makers, museums, libraries, and foundations. He has served on the governing boards of the National Humanities Alliance, American Council of Learned Societies, Association of American Colleges and Universities, and Center for Research Libraries. Mentioned: OAH's Records at Risk Data Collection Initiative for individuals to report removed or changed material For federal workers who are interested in sharing their experiences, OAH's Emergency Oral History Project Arlington National Cemetery website removes histories highlighting Black, Hispanic, and women veterans National Center for Education Statistics (NCES) Removal of climate data from government websites Contribute to AHA and OAH 5calls ap for connecting with federal senators and representatives AHA Action Alert for Iowa residents (and AHA letter to Iowa Senate Education Committee) Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

The executive directors of the American Historical Association and Organization of American Historians join the podcast to talk about the effects of historical censorship, data shredding, meaningful public education – and what everyone can do to fight back. After being sworn in as the 47th president, Donald Trump issued a slew of executive orders. The order entitled “Defending Women from Gender Ideology Extremism and Restoring Biological Truth to the Federal Government” declares that “It is the policy of the United States to recognize two sexes, male and female. These sexes are not changeable and are grounded in fundamental and incontrovertible reality. Under my direction, the Executive Branch will enforce all sex-protective laws to promote this reality...” This order has swiftly affected what people may read on websites or museum panels that describe historical events and artifacts. As a new joint statement from the American Historical Association and the Organization of American Historians recounts, “Some alterations, such as those related to topics like the Tuskegee Airmen and the internment of Japanese Americans during World War II, have been hurriedly reversed in response to public outcry. Others remain. The scrubbing of words and acronyms from the Stonewall National Monument webpage, for instance, distorts the site's history by denying the roles of transgender and queer people in movements for rights and liberation. This distortion of history renders the past unrecognizable to the people who lived it and useless to those who seek to learn from the past.” Dr. Beth English is Executive Director of the Organization of American Historians. Her research and teaching focus on the historical and contemporary labor movement, working-class issues, globalization, deindustrialization, and women in the workplace. She is the author of A Common Thread: Labor, Politics, and Capital Mobility in the Textile Industry, and co-editor of Global Women's Work: Perspectives on Gender and Work in the Global Economy. She has contributed to the Washington Post, NPR, Vox, Huffington Post, The New Republic, and other media outlets. Dr. James R. Grossman is executive director of the American Historical Association. Previously, he was vice president for research and education at the Newberry Library, and has taught at University of Chicago and University of California, San Diego. Among his many publications are the award-winning books, Land of Hope: Chicago, Black Southerners, and the Great Migration and A Chance to Make Good: African-Americans, 1900–1929. His articles and short essays have focused on various aspects of American urban history, African American history, ethnicity, higher education, and the place of history in public culture. His public facing scholarship includes work published in the Chicago Tribune, New York Times, Los Angeles Times, Time, The Hill, The Chronicle of Higher Education, and Inside Higher Education. Grossman has consulted on history-related projects generated by the BBC, Smithsonian, and various theater companies, film makers, museums, libraries, and foundations. He has served on the governing boards of the National Humanities Alliance, American Council of Learned Societies, Association of American Colleges and Universities, and Center for Research Libraries. Mentioned: OAH's Records at Risk Data Collection Initiative for individuals to report removed or changed material For federal workers who are interested in sharing their experiences, OAH's Emergency Oral History Project Arlington National Cemetery website removes histories highlighting Black, Hispanic, and women veterans National Center for Education Statistics (NCES) Removal of climate data from government websites Contribute to AHA and OAH 5calls ap for connecting with federal senators and representatives AHA Action Alert for Iowa residents (and AHA letter to Iowa Senate Education Committee) Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/political-science

The presidents of the American Historical Association and Organization of American Historians join the podcast to talk about the effects of historical censorship, data shredding, meaningful public education – and what everyone can do to fight back. After being sworn in as the 47th president, Donald Trump issued a slew of executive orders. The order entitled “Defending Women from Gender Ideology Extremism and Restoring Biological Truth to the Federal Government” declares that “It is the policy of the United States to recognize two sexes, male and female. These sexes are not changeable and are grounded in fundamental and incontrovertible reality. Under my direction, the Executive Branch will enforce all sex-protective laws to promote this reality...” This order has swiftly affected what people may read on websites or museum panels that describe historical events and artifacts. As a new joint statement from the American Historical Association and the Organization of American Historians recounts, “Some alterations, such as those related to topics like the Tuskegee Airmen and the internment of Japanese Americans during World War II, have been hurriedly reversed in response to public outcry. Others remain. The scrubbing of words and acronyms from the Stonewall National Monument webpage, for instance, distorts the site's history by denying the roles of transgender and queer people in movements for rights and liberation. This distortion of history renders the past unrecognizable to the people who lived it and useless to those who seek to learn from the past.” Dr. Beth English is Executive Director of the Organization of American Historians. Her research and teaching focus on the historical and contemporary labor movement, working-class issues, globalization, deindustrialization, and women in the workplace. She is the author of A Common Thread: Labor, Politics, and Capital Mobility in the Textile Industry, and co-editor of Global Women's Work: Perspectives on Gender and Work in the Global Economy. She has contributed to the Washington Post, NPR, Vox, Huffington Post, The New Republic, and other media outlets. Dr. James R. Grossman is executive director of the American Historical Association. Previously, he was vice president for research and education at the Newberry Library, and has taught at University of Chicago and University of California, San Diego. Among his many publications are the award-winning books, Land of Hope: Chicago, Black Southerners, and the Great Migration and A Chance to Make Good: African-Americans, 1900–1929. His articles and short essays have focused on various aspects of American urban history, African American history, ethnicity, higher education, and the place of history in public culture. His public facing scholarship includes work published in the Chicago Tribune, New York Times, Los Angeles Times, Time, The Hill, The Chronicle of Higher Education, and Inside Higher Education. Grossman has consulted on history-related projects generated by the BBC, Smithsonian, and various theater companies, film makers, museums, libraries, and foundations. He has served on the governing boards of the National Humanities Alliance, American Council of Learned Societies, Association of American Colleges and Universities, and Center for Research Libraries. Mentioned: OAH's Records at Risk Data Collection Initiative for individuals to report removed or changed material For federal workers who are interested in sharing their experiences, OAH's Emergency Oral History Project Arlington National Cemetery website removes histories highlighting Black, Hispanic, and women veterans National Center for Education Statistics (NCES) Removal of climate data from government websites Contribute to AHA and OAH 5calls ap for connecting with federal senators and representatives AHA Action Alert for Iowa residents (and AHA letter to Iowa Senate Education Committee) Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/american-studies

The presidents of the American Historical Association and Organization of American Historians join the podcast to talk about the effects of historical censorship, data shredding, meaningful public education – and what everyone can do to fight back. After being sworn in as the 47th president, Donald Trump issued a slew of executive orders. The order entitled “Defending Women from Gender Ideology Extremism and Restoring Biological Truth to the Federal Government” declares that “It is the policy of the United States to recognize two sexes, male and female. These sexes are not changeable and are grounded in fundamental and incontrovertible reality. Under my direction, the Executive Branch will enforce all sex-protective laws to promote this reality...” This order has swiftly affected what people may read on websites or museum panels that describe historical events and artifacts. As a new joint statement from the American Historical Association and the Organization of American Historians recounts, “Some alterations, such as those related to topics like the Tuskegee Airmen and the internment of Japanese Americans during World War II, have been hurriedly reversed in response to public outcry. Others remain. The scrubbing of words and acronyms from the Stonewall National Monument webpage, for instance, distorts the site's history by denying the roles of transgender and queer people in movements for rights and liberation. This distortion of history renders the past unrecognizable to the people who lived it and useless to those who seek to learn from the past.” Dr. Beth English is Executive Director of the Organization of American Historians. Her research and teaching focus on the historical and contemporary labor movement, working-class issues, globalization, deindustrialization, and women in the workplace. She is the author of A Common Thread: Labor, Politics, and Capital Mobility in the Textile Industry, and co-editor of Global Women's Work: Perspectives on Gender and Work in the Global Economy. She has contributed to the Washington Post, NPR, Vox, Huffington Post, The New Republic, and other media outlets. Dr. James R. Grossman is executive director of the American Historical Association. Previously, he was vice president for research and education at the Newberry Library, and has taught at University of Chicago and University of California, San Diego. Among his many publications are the award-winning books, Land of Hope: Chicago, Black Southerners, and the Great Migration and A Chance to Make Good: African-Americans, 1900–1929. His articles and short essays have focused on various aspects of American urban history, African American history, ethnicity, higher education, and the place of history in public culture. His public facing scholarship includes work published in the Chicago Tribune, New York Times, Los Angeles Times, Time, The Hill, The Chronicle of Higher Education, and Inside Higher Education. Grossman has consulted on history-related projects generated by the BBC, Smithsonian, and various theater companies, film makers, museums, libraries, and foundations. He has served on the governing boards of the National Humanities Alliance, American Council of Learned Societies, Association of American Colleges and Universities, and Center for Research Libraries. Mentioned: OAH's Records at Risk Data Collection Initiative for individuals to report removed or changed material For federal workers who are interested in sharing their experiences, OAH's Emergency Oral History Project Arlington National Cemetery website removes histories highlighting Black, Hispanic, and women veterans National Center for Education Statistics (NCES) Removal of climate data from government websites Contribute to AHA and OAH 5calls ap for connecting with federal senators and representatives AHA Action Alert for Iowa residents (and AHA letter to Iowa Senate Education Committee) Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/politics-and-polemics

The presidents of the American Historical Association and Organization of American Historians join the podcast to talk about the effects of historical censorship, data shredding, meaningful public education – and what everyone can do to fight back. After being sworn in as the 47th president, Donald Trump issued a slew of executive orders. The order entitled “Defending Women from Gender Ideology Extremism and Restoring Biological Truth to the Federal Government” declares that “It is the policy of the United States to recognize two sexes, male and female. These sexes are not changeable and are grounded in fundamental and incontrovertible reality. Under my direction, the Executive Branch will enforce all sex-protective laws to promote this reality...” This order has swiftly affected what people may read on websites or museum panels that describe historical events and artifacts. As a new joint statement from the American Historical Association and the Organization of American Historians recounts, “Some alterations, such as those related to topics like the Tuskegee Airmen and the internment of Japanese Americans during World War II, have been hurriedly reversed in response to public outcry. Others remain. The scrubbing of words and acronyms from the Stonewall National Monument webpage, for instance, distorts the site's history by denying the roles of transgender and queer people in movements for rights and liberation. This distortion of history renders the past unrecognizable to the people who lived it and useless to those who seek to learn from the past.” Dr. Beth English is Executive Director of the Organization of American Historians. Her research and teaching focus on the historical and contemporary labor movement, working-class issues, globalization, deindustrialization, and women in the workplace. She is the author of A Common Thread: Labor, Politics, and Capital Mobility in the Textile Industry, and co-editor of Global Women's Work: Perspectives on Gender and Work in the Global Economy. She has contributed to the Washington Post, NPR, Vox, Huffington Post, The New Republic, and other media outlets. Dr. James R. Grossman is executive director of the American Historical Association. Previously, he was vice president for research and education at the Newberry Library, and has taught at University of Chicago and University of California, San Diego. Among his many publications are the award-winning books, Land of Hope: Chicago, Black Southerners, and the Great Migration and A Chance to Make Good: African-Americans, 1900–1929. His articles and short essays have focused on various aspects of American urban history, African American history, ethnicity, higher education, and the place of history in public culture. His public facing scholarship includes work published in the Chicago Tribune, New York Times, Los Angeles Times, Time, The Hill, The Chronicle of Higher Education, and Inside Higher Education. Grossman has consulted on history-related projects generated by the BBC, Smithsonian, and various theater companies, film makers, museums, libraries, and foundations. He has served on the governing boards of the National Humanities Alliance, American Council of Learned Societies, Association of American Colleges and Universities, and Center for Research Libraries. Mentioned: OAH's Records at Risk Data Collection Initiative for individuals to report removed or changed material For federal workers who are interested in sharing their experiences, OAH's Emergency Oral History Project Arlington National Cemetery website removes histories highlighting Black, Hispanic, and women veterans National Center for Education Statistics (NCES) Removal of climate data from government websites Contribute to AHA and OAH 5calls ap for connecting with federal senators and representatives AHA Action Alert for Iowa residents (and AHA letter to Iowa Senate Education Committee) Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/law

The presidents of the American Historical Association and Organization of American Historians join the podcast to talk about the effects of historical censorship, data shredding, meaningful public education – and what everyone can do to fight back. After being sworn in as the 47th president, Donald Trump issued a slew of executive orders. The order entitled “Defending Women from Gender Ideology Extremism and Restoring Biological Truth to the Federal Government” declares that “It is the policy of the United States to recognize two sexes, male and female. These sexes are not changeable and are grounded in fundamental and incontrovertible reality. Under my direction, the Executive Branch will enforce all sex-protective laws to promote this reality...” This order has swiftly affected what people may read on websites or museum panels that describe historical events and artifacts. As a new joint statement from the American Historical Association and the Organization of American Historians recounts, “Some alterations, such as those related to topics like the Tuskegee Airmen and the internment of Japanese Americans during World War II, have been hurriedly reversed in response to public outcry. Others remain. The scrubbing of words and acronyms from the Stonewall National Monument webpage, for instance, distorts the site's history by denying the roles of transgender and queer people in movements for rights and liberation. This distortion of history renders the past unrecognizable to the people who lived it and useless to those who seek to learn from the past.” Dr. Beth English is Executive Director of the Organization of American Historians. Her research and teaching focus on the historical and contemporary labor movement, working-class issues, globalization, deindustrialization, and women in the workplace. She is the author of A Common Thread: Labor, Politics, and Capital Mobility in the Textile Industry, and co-editor of Global Women's Work: Perspectives on Gender and Work in the Global Economy. She has contributed to the Washington Post, NPR, Vox, Huffington Post, The New Republic, and other media outlets. Dr. James R. Grossman is executive director of the American Historical Association. Previously, he was vice president for research and education at the Newberry Library, and has taught at University of Chicago and University of California, San Diego. Among his many publications are the award-winning books, Land of Hope: Chicago, Black Southerners, and the Great Migration and A Chance to Make Good: African-Americans, 1900–1929. His articles and short essays have focused on various aspects of American urban history, African American history, ethnicity, higher education, and the place of history in public culture. His public facing scholarship includes work published in the Chicago Tribune, New York Times, Los Angeles Times, Time, The Hill, The Chronicle of Higher Education, and Inside Higher Education. Grossman has consulted on history-related projects generated by the BBC, Smithsonian, and various theater companies, film makers, museums, libraries, and foundations. He has served on the governing boards of the National Humanities Alliance, American Council of Learned Societies, Association of American Colleges and Universities, and Center for Research Libraries. Mentioned: OAH's Records at Risk Data Collection Initiative for individuals to report removed or changed material For federal workers who are interested in sharing their experiences, OAH's Emergency Oral History Project Arlington National Cemetery website removes histories highlighting Black, Hispanic, and women veterans National Center for Education Statistics (NCES) Removal of climate data from government websites Contribute to AHA and OAH 5calls ap for connecting with federal senators and representatives AHA Action Alert for Iowa residents (and AHA letter to Iowa Senate Education Committee) Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The presidents of the American Historical Association and Organization of American Historians join the podcast to talk about the effects of historical censorship, data shredding, meaningful public education – and what everyone can do to fight back. After being sworn in as the 47th president, Donald Trump issued a slew of executive orders. The order entitled “Defending Women from Gender Ideology Extremism and Restoring Biological Truth to the Federal Government” declares that “It is the policy of the United States to recognize two sexes, male and female. These sexes are not changeable and are grounded in fundamental and incontrovertible reality. Under my direction, the Executive Branch will enforce all sex-protective laws to promote this reality...” This order has swiftly affected what people may read on websites or museum panels that describe historical events and artifacts. As a new joint statement from the American Historical Association and the Organization of American Historians recounts, “Some alterations, such as those related to topics like the Tuskegee Airmen and the internment of Japanese Americans during World War II, have been hurriedly reversed in response to public outcry. Others remain. The scrubbing of words and acronyms from the Stonewall National Monument webpage, for instance, distorts the site's history by denying the roles of transgender and queer people in movements for rights and liberation. This distortion of history renders the past unrecognizable to the people who lived it and useless to those who seek to learn from the past.” Dr. Beth English is Executive Director of the Organization of American Historians. Her research and teaching focus on the historical and contemporary labor movement, working-class issues, globalization, deindustrialization, and women in the workplace. She is the author of A Common Thread: Labor, Politics, and Capital Mobility in the Textile Industry, and co-editor of Global Women's Work: Perspectives on Gender and Work in the Global Economy. She has contributed to the Washington Post, NPR, Vox, Huffington Post, The New Republic, and other media outlets. Dr. James R. Grossman is executive director of the American Historical Association. Previously, he was vice president for research and education at the Newberry Library, and has taught at University of Chicago and University of California, San Diego. Among his many publications are the award-winning books, Land of Hope: Chicago, Black Southerners, and the Great Migration and A Chance to Make Good: African-Americans, 1900–1929. His articles and short essays have focused on various aspects of American urban history, African American history, ethnicity, higher education, and the place of history in public culture. His public facing scholarship includes work published in the Chicago Tribune, New York Times, Los Angeles Times, Time, The Hill, The Chronicle of Higher Education, and Inside Higher Education. Grossman has consulted on history-related projects generated by the BBC, Smithsonian, and various theater companies, film makers, museums, libraries, and foundations. He has served on the governing boards of the National Humanities Alliance, American Council of Learned Societies, Association of American Colleges and Universities, and Center for Research Libraries. Mentioned: OAH's Records at Risk Data Collection Initiative for individuals to report removed or changed material For federal workers who are interested in sharing their experiences, OAH's Emergency Oral History Project Arlington National Cemetery website removes histories highlighting Black, Hispanic, and women veterans National Center for Education Statistics (NCES) Removal of climate data from government websites Contribute to AHA and OAH 5calls ap for connecting with federal senators and representatives AHA Action Alert for Iowa residents (and AHA letter to Iowa Senate Education Committee) Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

On this show, we talk with Dr. Crystal Sanders, Associate Professor at Emory University in Atlanta, about her recently published book Forgotten Migration: Black Southerners, Segregation Scholarships and the Debt Owed to Public HBCUs.

A Forgotten Migration: Black Southerners, Segregation Scholarships, and the Debt Owed to Public HBCUs (UNC Press, 2024) tells the little-known story of "segregation scholarships" awarded by states in the US South to Black students seeking graduate education in the pre-Brown v. Board of Education era. Under the Plessy v. Ferguson decision, decades earlier, southern states could provide graduate opportunities for African Americans by creating separate but equal graduate programs at tax-supported Black colleges or by admitting Black students to historically white institutions. Most did neither and instead paid to send Black students out of state for graduate education. Crystal R. Sanders examines Black graduate students who relocated to the North, Midwest, and West to continue their education with segregation scholarships, revealing the many challenges they faced along the way. Students that entered out-of-state programs endured long and tedious travel, financial hardship, racial discrimination, isolation, and homesickness. With the passage of Brown in 1954, segregation scholarships began to wane, but the integration of graduate programs at southern public universities was slow. In telling this story, Sanders demonstrates how white efforts to preserve segregation led to the underfunding of public Black colleges, furthering racial inequality in American higher education. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/african-american-studies

A Forgotten Migration: Black Southerners, Segregation Scholarships, and the Debt Owed to Public HBCUs (UNC Press, 2024) tells the little-known story of "segregation scholarships" awarded by states in the US South to Black students seeking graduate education in the pre-Brown v. Board of Education era. Under the Plessy v. Ferguson decision, decades earlier, southern states could provide graduate opportunities for African Americans by creating separate but equal graduate programs at tax-supported Black colleges or by admitting Black students to historically white institutions. Most did neither and instead paid to send Black students out of state for graduate education. Crystal R. Sanders examines Black graduate students who relocated to the North, Midwest, and West to continue their education with segregation scholarships, revealing the many challenges they faced along the way. Students that entered out-of-state programs endured long and tedious travel, financial hardship, racial discrimination, isolation, and homesickness. With the passage of Brown in 1954, segregation scholarships began to wane, but the integration of graduate programs at southern public universities was slow. In telling this story, Sanders demonstrates how white efforts to preserve segregation led to the underfunding of public Black colleges, furthering racial inequality in American higher education. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

A Forgotten Migration: Black Southerners, Segregation Scholarships, and the Debt Owed to Public HBCUs (UNC Press, 2024) tells the little-known story of "segregation scholarships" awarded by states in the US South to Black students seeking graduate education in the pre-Brown v. Board of Education era. Under the Plessy v. Ferguson decision, decades earlier, southern states could provide graduate opportunities for African Americans by creating separate but equal graduate programs at tax-supported Black colleges or by admitting Black students to historically white institutions. Most did neither and instead paid to send Black students out of state for graduate education. Crystal R. Sanders examines Black graduate students who relocated to the North, Midwest, and West to continue their education with segregation scholarships, revealing the many challenges they faced along the way. Students that entered out-of-state programs endured long and tedious travel, financial hardship, racial discrimination, isolation, and homesickness. With the passage of Brown in 1954, segregation scholarships began to wane, but the integration of graduate programs at southern public universities was slow. In telling this story, Sanders demonstrates how white efforts to preserve segregation led to the underfunding of public Black colleges, furthering racial inequality in American higher education. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/history

A Forgotten Migration: Black Southerners, Segregation Scholarships, and the Debt Owed to Public HBCUs (UNC Press, 2024) tells the little-known story of "segregation scholarships" awarded by states in the US South to Black students seeking graduate education in the pre-Brown v. Board of Education era. Under the Plessy v. Ferguson decision, decades earlier, southern states could provide graduate opportunities for African Americans by creating separate but equal graduate programs at tax-supported Black colleges or by admitting Black students to historically white institutions. Most did neither and instead paid to send Black students out of state for graduate education. Crystal R. Sanders examines Black graduate students who relocated to the North, Midwest, and West to continue their education with segregation scholarships, revealing the many challenges they faced along the way. Students that entered out-of-state programs endured long and tedious travel, financial hardship, racial discrimination, isolation, and homesickness. With the passage of Brown in 1954, segregation scholarships began to wane, but the integration of graduate programs at southern public universities was slow. In telling this story, Sanders demonstrates how white efforts to preserve segregation led to the underfunding of public Black colleges, furthering racial inequality in American higher education. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/american-studies

A Forgotten Migration: Black Southerners, Segregation Scholarships, and the Debt Owed to Public HBCUs (UNC Press, 2024) tells the little-known story of "segregation scholarships" awarded by states in the US South to Black students seeking graduate education in the pre-Brown v. Board of Education era. Under the Plessy v. Ferguson decision, decades earlier, southern states could provide graduate opportunities for African Americans by creating separate but equal graduate programs at tax-supported Black colleges or by admitting Black students to historically white institutions. Most did neither and instead paid to send Black students out of state for graduate education. Crystal R. Sanders examines Black graduate students who relocated to the North, Midwest, and West to continue their education with segregation scholarships, revealing the many challenges they faced along the way. Students that entered out-of-state programs endured long and tedious travel, financial hardship, racial discrimination, isolation, and homesickness. With the passage of Brown in 1954, segregation scholarships began to wane, but the integration of graduate programs at southern public universities was slow. In telling this story, Sanders demonstrates how white efforts to preserve segregation led to the underfunding of public Black colleges, furthering racial inequality in American higher education. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/education

A Forgotten Migration: Black Southerners, Segregation Scholarships, and the Debt Owed to Public HBCUs (UNC Press, 2024) tells the little-known story of "segregation scholarships" awarded by states in the US South to Black students seeking graduate education in the pre-Brown v. Board of Education era. Under the Plessy v. Ferguson decision, decades earlier, southern states could provide graduate opportunities for African Americans by creating separate but equal graduate programs at tax-supported Black colleges or by admitting Black students to historically white institutions. Most did neither and instead paid to send Black students out of state for graduate education. Crystal R. Sanders examines Black graduate students who relocated to the North, Midwest, and West to continue their education with segregation scholarships, revealing the many challenges they faced along the way. Students that entered out-of-state programs endured long and tedious travel, financial hardship, racial discrimination, isolation, and homesickness. With the passage of Brown in 1954, segregation scholarships began to wane, but the integration of graduate programs at southern public universities was slow. In telling this story, Sanders demonstrates how white efforts to preserve segregation led to the underfunding of public Black colleges, furthering racial inequality in American higher education. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

A Forgotten Migration: Black Southerners, Segregation Scholarships, and the Debt Owed to Public HBCUs (UNC Press, 2024) tells the little-known story of "segregation scholarships" awarded by states in the US South to Black students seeking graduate education in the pre-Brown v. Board of Education era. Under the Plessy v. Ferguson decision, decades earlier, southern states could provide graduate opportunities for African Americans by creating separate but equal graduate programs at tax-supported Black colleges or by admitting Black students to historically white institutions. Most did neither and instead paid to send Black students out of state for graduate education. Crystal R. Sanders examines Black graduate students who relocated to the North, Midwest, and West to continue their education with segregation scholarships, revealing the many challenges they faced along the way. Students that entered out-of-state programs endured long and tedious travel, financial hardship, racial discrimination, isolation, and homesickness. With the passage of Brown in 1954, segregation scholarships began to wane, but the integration of graduate programs at southern public universities was slow. In telling this story, Sanders demonstrates how white efforts to preserve segregation led to the underfunding of public Black colleges, furthering racial inequality in American higher education.

A Forgotten Migration: Black Southerners, Segregation Scholarships, and the Debt Owed to Public HBCUs (UNC Press, 2024) tells the little-known story of "segregation scholarships" awarded by states in the US South to Black students seeking graduate education in the pre-Brown v. Board of Education era. Under the Plessy v. Ferguson decision, decades earlier, southern states could provide graduate opportunities for African Americans by creating separate but equal graduate programs at tax-supported Black colleges or by admitting Black students to historically white institutions. Most did neither and instead paid to send Black students out of state for graduate education. Crystal R. Sanders examines Black graduate students who relocated to the North, Midwest, and West to continue their education with segregation scholarships, revealing the many challenges they faced along the way. Students that entered out-of-state programs endured long and tedious travel, financial hardship, racial discrimination, isolation, and homesickness. With the passage of Brown in 1954, segregation scholarships began to wane, but the integration of graduate programs at southern public universities was slow. In telling this story, Sanders demonstrates how white efforts to preserve segregation led to the underfunding of public Black colleges, furthering racial inequality in American higher education. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/american-south

On this show, we talk with Dr. Crystal Sanders, Associate Professor at Emory University in Atlanta, about her recently published book Forgotten Migration: Black Southerners, Segregation Scholarships and the Debt Owed to Public HBCUs.

Lincoln Heights was full of hard-working Black people. The town's history dates back to the 1920s when Black Southerners migrated to the Northern California town because they were promised something crucial. _____________ 2-Minute Black History is produced by PushBlack, the nation's largest non-profit Black media company. PushBlack exists to amplify the stories of Black history you didn't learn in school. You make PushBlack happen with your contributions at BlackHistoryYear.com — most people donate $10 a month, but every dollar makes a difference. If this episode moved you, share it with your people! Thanks for supporting the work. The production team for this podcast includes Cydney Smith, Len Webb, and Lilly Workneh. Our editors are Lance John and Avery Phillips from Gifted Sounds Network. Julian Walker serves as executive producer. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

In 1876, Republican Rutherford B. Hayes and Democrat Samuel Tilden vied for the presidency. But when Election Day was over, no clear winner emerged. Amid reports of voter fraud, intimidation and violence, both parties claimed victory in South Carolina, Louisiana, and Florida, the only three Southern states where Republicans still held the reins of local government.It was the most bitterly disputed election in American history. As the stalemate dragged on, the nation faced a Constitutional crisis. The outcome of the presidency, the fate of Reconstruction, and the futures of millions of Black Southerners hung in the balance.Listen ad free with Wondery+. Join Wondery+ for exclusives, binges, early access, and ad free listening. Available in the Wondery App. https://wondery.app.link/historytellersSupport us by supporting our sponsors!See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

In the spring of 1867, over President Andrew Johnson's veto, the Republican-controlled Congress passed the Reconstruction Acts, putting the U.S. Army in control of the South and giving Black Southerners expanded political rights. For the first time they organized and attended political rallies, registered to vote, and even helped draft new state constitutions across the South. Back in Washington, D.C., the conflict between Johnson and Congressional Republicans reached a boiling point, and Johnson became the first president in American history to be impeached. While he fought for his presidency, Black voters in the South faced a backlash of vigilante violence, as the white supremacist Ku Klux Klan unleashed a wave of terror.Listen ad free with Wondery+. Join Wondery+ for exclusives, binges, early access, and ad free listening. Available in the Wondery App. https://wondery.app.link/historytellersSupport us by supporting our sponsors!See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

On this last day of Black History Month, we feature the stories of Black Southerners during Jim Crow, as told in a single frame. NewsHour Digital Anchor Nicole Ellis visited the University of Virginia to see how historical portraits are helping redefine a generation in its own voice, and through its own lens. It's for our arts and culture series, CANVAS. PBS NewsHour is supported by - https://www.pbs.org/newshour/about/funders

Hip-hop is a rose that grew from concrete. And there's no other place it could have grown than the fertile soil of the South Bronx. At the beginning of the 20th Century, urban planning destroyed neighborhoods and led to white flight, and tall high-density towers re-arranged the landscape of the borough. Around the same time, a massive wave of Caribbean immigrants and Black Southerners were migrating to the South Bronx, leading to a convergence of cultures that would light a spark for the birth of hip-hop in the summer of 1973.Hip-hop is turning 50 this year. So, for Black History Month, Into America is presenting “Street Disciples: Politics, Power, and the Rise of Hip-Hop.” Trymaine Lee is looking back on the political conditions and policies that have inspired half a century of hip-hop, and how over time, hip-hop began to shape America. On part one of “Street Disciples,” how the concrete jungle of New York in the 1970s led to the birth and spread of hip-hop. Trymaine is joined by: Kool DJ Red Alert, DJ Grandwizzard Theodore, historian Mark Anthony Neal, sociologist Tricia Rose, and journalist Davey D.Follow and share the show on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram, using the handle @intoamericapod.Thoughts? Feedback? Story ideas? Write to us at intoamerica@nbcuni.com.For a transcript, please visit our homepage.Check out our previous Black History series here: Reconstructed: Birth of a Black NationHarlem on My Mind: Jacob Lawrence

“I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God” (Jer. 31).                                                                    Jeremiah 31:27-34 Psalm 119:97-104 2 Timothy 3:14-4:5 Luke 18:1-8 “When the Son of humanity comes will he find faith on earth” (Lk. 18)? These words from two thousand years ago are the defining question of our time. This week the House Committee on the January 6, 2021 attack on the Capitol concluded its hearings. We have seen indisputable evidence that politicians continue to use false claims of electoral fraud to secure their own power.[1] Last month the governors of Florida and Texas falsely promised jobs and resettlement help to asylum seekers who they sent to Washington, D.C. and Martha's Vineyard. They used immigrants, including children, as part of a political stunt.[2] This action echoes the way that black southerners were bused out of the south by segregationist White Citizens' Councils to cities with prominent integrationist leaders in 1962.[3] This week in Ukraine and Iran ordinary people were slaughtered because of a distant political agenda, because of an ideology. Here at home we see terrible poverty and neglect on our own streets. “When the Son of humanity comes, will he find faith on earth?” In the face of the heartbreaking cruelty and dishonesty of his own time Jesus tells his friends, “a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart” (Lk. 18). Jesus tells this story near the end of his own journey to Jerusalem, as he talks about the end of time when God's realm of justice, peace and love will come. The Hebrew Bible frequently demands that the powerful have a special responsibility to widows, strangers and orphans. These groups are vulnerable because they have no male relatives to defend them. Although widows in the Bible (like in the stories of Ruth or Elijah and the widow of Zarephath) often model tenacity, resourcefulness and initiative, they represent vulnerability just as the judge symbolizes power. In several sections of Luke's Gospel he uses a “how much more” argument. “If you then, who are evil know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him” (Lk. 11:13).[4] This parable uses this same logic. A widow comes to a judge seeking justice. He does not believe in God. Nor does he respect people. He refuses to help her until he reasons that, “because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out” (Lk. 18). Let me point out two ways in which the Greek version differs from the English translation. When the judge says that he does not want the widow to “wear him out” the Greek word for this is hupopiazē. It is an expression from boxing. It means to literally give someone a black eye. The judge doesn't want the widow to embarrass him or injure his reputation. Second, the Greek more strongly conveys urgency, impatience and conviction. Greek uses double negatives to add emphasis. It's almost as if Jesus raises his voice to underline what he means. A more literal version might be, “And will not God give vengeance to his chosen ones who are crying day and night? And be impatient to help them!”[5] The point is not that God resembles the unjust judge. In almost every respect Jesus describes God as the opposite. The judge is self-centered. He only uses people. But God is full of love, impatient for his children to thrive. Jesus is unafraid to be humiliated for our sake. The purpose of this “how much more” story is for us to trust God and to persist in prayer.[6] Today I want to give you one picture of a faithless world and then to consider how faith humanizes us. In college I knew a woman whose favorite story was Ernest Hemmingway's "The Short and Happy Life of Francis Macomber." This always worried me about her partly because of the story's misogyny but mostly because of its position with regard to faith. We meet Francis Macomber as a thirty-five year old American business tycoon on safari in East Africa. As the story unfolds we gradually come to realize that he has committed the cardinal sin in the universe of Hemingway fiction. The day before he betrayed his manliness and ran in fear from a wounded lion who had been concealed in the tall grass. Margot, his wife, does not try to comfort him in his humiliation. Instead, she despises this act of cowardice and as a consequence she sleeps with the safari leader that night. Hemmingway also seems to hate his own fictitious character, because he wouldn't leave his wife, because "he would take anything" from her.[7] The next day the group goes in pursuit of a dangerous buffalo. Then, suddenly, in an almost religious conversion, Macomber changes. Hemmingway writes, that “[f]or the first time in his life he felt wholly without fear. Instead of fear he had a feeling of definite elation.” The safari leader admires this new courage. His wife fears it because she no longer has the power to make him ashamed of being afraid. Why is it called a "Short Happy Life"? Only moments later as Macomber tries to flush the buffalo out of the long grass, “he [feels] a sudden white-hot, blinding flash explode inside his head and that was all he ever felt.” Although his wife claimed she was aiming at the buffalo, she shot him in the back of the head. When the son of man comes will he find faith on earth? In Hemmingway's universe there is no faith. Men can never depend on women, or on other men. Every person is either a conquest or an adversary. The individual can only rely on an elusive courage that comes miraculously from within, an irrational bravery which completely isolates each soul from all else. The theologian H. Richard Niebuhr emphasizes that faith means more than merely faith in God. Faith concerns all the ways that we are connected to and support and depend on each other. “We see this possibility – that human history will come to its end… in the gangrenous corruption of a social life in which every promise, contract, treaty and “word of honor” is given and received in deception and distrust. If [human beings] can no longer have faith in each other, can they exist as [human beings]?”[8] What shall we do in this time before the second coming of Christ? We need to pray and not lose hope. We also need to strive to be people of honesty and integrity, to listen and care for others. To use the language of Immanuel Kant (1724-1804) we need to treat people as ends rather than as means to our own goals. The heartbreaking sin of this judge was his inability to see the widow as a person. I have a friend named Sue Everson who is a world authority on hopelessness. As a medical researcher she studies the effect that hopelessness has on our health. One of her more startling statistics is that people who feel hopeless are twenty percent more likely to die in the next four years from a stroke. Hopelessness increases your chance of a stroke to the same degree that smoking a pack of cigarettes a day does.  Sue scientifically studies how religion seems to make people less hopeless.[9] Today with churches around the world we celebrate the Children's Sabbath. A central part of what we do together involves our care for children and families. We teach children how to listen spiritually, how to pray and not lose heart. Professor Lisa Miller has been our guest on the forum twice. She argues that denying our spirituality is not just untrue but unhealthy for us and especially for children. Using new techniques ranging from twin studies to neuroimaging, scientists are coming to a new appreciation for just how important spirituality is for human flourishing. Miller claims that all children possess a kind of “natural spirituality.” This interest in the Holy, this, “direct sense of… the heartbeat of the living universe… precedes and transcends language, culture and religion.”[10] This spirituality protects us, but not completely, from depression, anxiety and the tendency to misuse alcohol and drugs. So what is the most important thing that we can do as adults for children? We can support their Sunday School teachers and the families who gather here. We can take their questions seriously. We can listen to them.[11] And so the conversation continues every week here. In life we are forever asking and being asked a simple question, “do you believe me?”[12] Do you? Seeing what is happening in the world, it is easy to struggle with a crisis of trust right now. I trust God but I don't know if the Son will find faith on earth. And yet at the same time I feel remarkably supported by the life I find at Grace Cathedral. C.S. Lewis writes that, “Faith… is the art of holding on to things your reason has once accepted, in spite of changing moods….” Because of this he says we need to pray and hold some of the Christian ideals in our mind for a period of time every day. We need to worship because, “We have to be continually reminded of what we believe… Belief has to be fed…” People do not cease to be Christian because of a good argument but because they simply drift away. Kathleen Norris writes, “prayer is not asking for what you think you want but asking to be changed in ways you can't imagine. To be made more grateful, more able to see the good in what you have been given instead of always grieving for what might have been.”[13] My friends pray always and do not lose heart. Be trustworthy and care for the children. When the Son of humanity comes may he find faith on earth. [1] Alan Feuer, Luke Broadwater, Maggie Haberman, Katie Benner and Michael S. Schmidt, “Jan. 6: The Story So Far,” The New York Times, 14 October 2022. https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2022/us/politics/jan-6-timeline.html?name=styln-capitol-mob®ion=TOP_BANNER&block=storyline_menu_recirc&action=click&pgtype=Article&variant=show&is_new=false [2] Zolan Kanno-Youngs and Eileen Sullivan, “Is That Legal: How Scores of Migrants Came to be Shipped North,” The New York Times, 16 September 2022. https://www.nytimes.com/2022/09/16/us/politics/migrants-marthas-vineyard-desantis.html?name=styln-marthas-vineyard-immigrants®ion=TOP_BANNER&block=storyline_menu_recirc&action=click&pgtype=Article&variant=show&is_new=false and https://www.nytimes.com/2022/10/02/us/migrants-marthas-vineyard-desantis-texas.html [3] Jacey Fortin, “When Segregationists Offered One-Way Tickets to Black Southerners,” The New York Times, 14 October 2022. https://www.nytimes.com/2022/10/02/us/migrants-marthas-vineyard-desantis-texas.html [4] See also, “But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you – you of little faith!” (Lk. 12:28). [5] 22 Pent (10-16-16) 24C. [6] Ibid. [7]  Hemingway cynically writes, "They had a sound basis of union. Margot was too beautiful for Macomber to divorce her and Macomber had too much money for Margot ever to leave him now." Ernest Hemingway, “The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber,” The Short Stories of Ernest Hemmingway (NY: Scribners/Macmillan, 1987) 18. See also, 20 Pent (10-21-01) 24C. [8] “We see this possibility – that human history will come to its end neither in a brotherhood of [humanity] nor in universal death under the blows of natural or man-made catastrophe, but in the gangrenous corruption of a social life in which every promise, contract, treaty and “word of honor” is given and received in deception and distrust. If [human beings] can no longer have faith in each other, can they exist as [human beings]?” H. Richard Niebuhr, Faith on Earth: An Inquiry into the Structure of Human Faith ed. Richard R. Niebuhr (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1989) 1. [9] 20 Pent (10-17-04) 24C. [10] Lisa Miller, The Spiritual Child: The New Science on Parenting for Health and Lifelong Thriving (NY: Picador, 2015) 25. [11] Miller quotes a parent who says, “I didn't realize for a long time that when my child asks a question and I say, “I don't know,” and just leave it at that, I'm actually stopping the conversation.” Ibid., 47. [12] H. Richard Niebuhr, Faith on Earth: An Inquiry into the Structure of Human Faith ed. Richard R. Niebuhr (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1989) 22. [13] Kathleen Norris, Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith (NY: Riverhead Books, 1998) 60-1.

The first episode of the Tales Of The Town podcast examines the 1st and 2nd Great Migrations that brought Black Southerners in influx to the Bay Area - you get a look at the circumstances that made these people travel across the country in search of “freedom” and opportunities and the struggles they encountered upon arrival Guests: Auntie Anita: Abbas' great Aunt, she passed away last year. Migrated from Louisiana to Oakland. Community organizer and activist. Charlene Thomas: Delency great grandmother. Migrated from Port Aurthor Texas to Oakland Uncle Freddie: Abbas' Uncle. Artist and Fabricator. Oakland Native. Donna Murch: Professor of History at Rutgers University. Author of Living for the City: Migration, Education and the Rise of the Black Panther Party in Oakland, California Clarence Thomas: Author of “Mobilizing in Our Own Name: Million Worker March”. Longtime ILWU organizer and longshoreman. Delency's Uncle.

You may have heard about the messy, chaotic and truly horrible presidential election of 1876 -- pitting Democrat Samuel Tilden and Republican Rutherford B Hayes -- but did you know that New York City plays a huge role in this moment in American history?Tilden, the governor of New York, was a political superstar, a reformer famous for taking down Boss Tweed and the corrupt machinations of Tammany Hall. From his home in Gramercy Park, the extremely wealthy governor could kept himself updated on the election by a personal telegraph line.In a way, the presidential election came to him -- or at least to his neighborhood. The Democratic national headquarters sat only a few blocks south, while the Republican national headquarters made the Fifth Avenue Hotel (off Madison Square) its home.All this would have made the 1876 national election somewhat unusual already -- New York City seemed to be at the center of it -- but the strange series of events spawned by a most contentious Election Day would send the entire country into pandemonium.Not only was democracy itself on the line, but the fate of Reconstruction was also at stake. As were the rights of thousands of Black Southerners.How did shadowy events which occurred at the Fifth Avenue Hotel in the early morning hours of November 8, 1876, change the course of American history? How did a flurry of telegrams and months of political chicanery cause an end to the country's post-Civil War ambitions?FEATURING: A visit to Tilden's mansion on Gramercy Park, now the home of the National Arts Club!PLUS: How was Daniel Sickles involved here? RECOMMENDED LISTENINGRECOMMENDED READING

To our ALLME community: We appreciate your continued support of our weekly newsletter, RISE. The feedback and suggestions we receive are fantastic. Please continue to share this link with people you know and remind them to look out for us every Monday. We will continue to deliver the latest DEI/EDI developments and updates from around the world: https://mailchi.mp/9bcab56b961e/keep-in-touch   We appreciate you!   -- "Some people think that if it is not about me, it is not for me." To move forward and make progress, we must do it together. When you are used to being centred most of the time, seeing and hearing others -not like you - be centred and focused on, is uncomfortable. We must lean into this discomfort in order to learn and accept. Tune into S1:E10 to learn about Adena White's journey of becoming an entrepreneur, founding Blackbelt Media and podcasting. Blackbelt Media is telling the stories of changemakers working to make the South (United States) a better place for all. Adena is an accredited public relations professional and is also one of the founding members of A Leader Like Me. Adena also shares thoughts on the current political landscape, Black History Month and how we can take genuine action to foster greater introspection and visibility. To avoid the performative trap, we should aim to exercise diversity and meaningful change all year round. More ripples create big waves. Allies and advocates can contribute to conversations and appreciate the significance of listening to other people's points of view.   Blackbelt Media: https://blackbeltvoices.com/ Blackbelt Voices podcast: https://podcast.blackbeltvoices.com/ Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/5xft6tert0BIx16cndScTn   The Blackbelt voices podcast was named in Oprah's Vanity Fair as one of the top 15 education podcasts to listen to. It propagates the richness of Black Southern culture by telling the stories of Black folks down South. Through first-person narratives and in-depth conversations, hosts Adena J. White, Kara Wilkins, and Katrina Dupins share the experiences of Black Southerners living in, loving, and reconciling with the region we call home.   Missed episode 9 with Jade Pichette (they/them)? We've got you: https://www.podbean.com/ew/pb-7sk6h-11e63b0    Keep up to date with Adena: LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/adenawhite/ Twitter:  https://twitter.com/AdenaJ   Continue to connect with A Leader Like Me to stay in the loop: Help us get to 400+ followers on Instagram!: https://instagram.com/aleaderlikeme We recently surpassed 1100 Twitter followers: https://twitter.com/aleaderlikeme Let's get to 300+ followers on LinkedIn! Follow us today: https://www.linkedin.com/company/a-leader-like-me/   Email us your DEI/EDI conversation and content ideas: info@aleaderlikeme.com   For more about this topic, or about us, visit https://aleaderlikeme.com/ for all the info. 

Danté Stewart is the author of “Shoutin' in the Fire: An American Epistle.” Danté grew up in a Black Pentecostal community in South Carolina, but when he walked on to play football at Clemson University, he suddenly found himself in a very different faith environment. He kept getting drawn into white megachurch communities. The people he met were always nice and welcoming. They made him feel special. They assured him that Jesus didn't see Black and white, that it was just one big Christian family. But after a few years of immersing himself in his new faith, Danté had an awakening. While he was dealing with the emotional pain of seeing young Black men killed by police on TV and across his social media, his new church family were doing their best to ignore it altogether. Talking about his lived reality as a Black man made white congregants uneasy. He may have felt welcomed there, but they were the ones who always belonged. And so Danté threw himself into Black liberation theology, reading an entirely different interpretation of scripture. One that connected him to a long line of leaders like Martin Luther King and, his main source of inspiration, James Baldwin. This week on the Reckon Interview, Danté Stewart discusses his experiences moving among faiths, whether Black Southerners and white Southerners worship the same God, advice for people who are struggling with their faith, and a lot more. See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

On July 2, 1822, Denmark Vesey was hung for attempting to lead a slave revolt in Charleston, South Carolina. Also executed that day were five of his supporters. Over the next month, a total of 35 men were hung in public executions for their involvement in Vesey's plot—on one day, 22 were killed in a mass execution. Both “Vesey's prosecutors and his allies”, writes my guest Jeremy Schipper “appealed to the Bible to decry or justify the insurrection plot.” In this way their behavior mirrored Abraham Lincoln's words decades later in his Second Inaugural Address: “Both read the same Bible and pray to the same God and each invokes His aid against the other.” Yet while Lincoln seems to have been referring to Northerner and Southerner, in this instance those words applied to White and Black Southerners, to enslavers and enslaved. How they read the same texts, how they prayed them, is therefore of intense interest to anyone seeking to understand that moment in Charleston, or for that matter any other moment in the history of slavery and racial conflict in the United States. Jeremy Schipper is Professor of Religion at Temple University, in Philadelphia, PA. Author of several books, his most recent is Denmark Vesey's Bible: The Thwarted Revolt That Put Slavery and Scripture on Trial, which is the subject of our conversation today. For Further Investigation  We have previously discussed Nat Turner's Revolt in Episode 161. Doug Egerton was mentioned in the conversation, and is thanked by Jeremy Schipper in his acknowledgements. Doug has been on the podcast in Episode 67 talking about Reconstruction, and again in Episode 137 discussing the Adams' family.

This week, to close out Black History Month, we're talking Bronzeville. The Black Metropolis south of the Loop along the lakefront has a rich history of culture and entrepreneurship. It's been home to great writers, artists, musicians, politicians and intellectuals. Now it's the subject of a new limited series from Crain's. Hosted by Crain's residential real estate reporter Dennis Rodkin, the debut of Crain's Four-Star Stories takes a look at the neighborhood's recent real estate transformation. It charts Bronzeville's history –– from the influx of Black Southerners during the Great Migration, through different eras of racial segregation, the rise and fall of its public housing towers, and the construction of the Dan Ryan Expressway, to today, when some of the neighborhood's 3,000 vacant lots are being turned into new housing worth upwards of half a million dollars each. Rodkin and Sherry Williams, founder of the Bronzeville Historical Society, discuss what they are seeing on the ground in the neighborhood. Williams also explains her own family history coming to Bronzeville, and what she hears from her friends and neighbors about the booming real estate market. Both Rodkin and Williams also describe which Bronzeville real estate projects to watch for in the coming years.

How can dance tell the story of Black progress? This episode features Tanya Wideman-Davis and Thaddeus Davis, Associate Professors of Dance and African American Studies at the University of South Carolina and founders of the Wideman Davis Dance company. They discuss their evolutions as dancers and activists who center their work on often invisible stories of Black Southerners. In their words, their work involves, "centering Black existence--its history and liberation." Hosted by: Jennifer Gunter

Getting Something to Eat in Jackson (Princeton Press, 2021) uses food—what people eat and how—to explore the interaction of race and class in the lives of African Americans in the contemporary urban South. Dr. Joseph Ewoodzie Jr. examines how “foodways”—food availability, choice, and consumption—vary greatly between classes of African Americans in Jackson, Mississippi, and how this reflects and shapes their very different experiences of a shared racial identity. Ewoodzie spent more than a year following a group of socioeconomically diverse African Americans—from upper-middle-class patrons of the city's fine-dining restaurants to men experiencing homelessness who must organize their days around the schedules of soup kitchens. Ewoodzie goes food shopping, cooks, and eats with a young mother living in poverty and a grandmother working two jobs. He works in a Black-owned BBQ restaurant, and he meets a man who decides to become a vegan for health reasons but who must drive across town to get tofu and quinoa. Ewoodzie also learns about how soul food is changing and why it is no longer a staple survival food. Throughout, he shows how food choices influence, and are influenced by, the racial and class identities of Black Jacksonians. By tracing these contemporary African American foodways, Getting Something to Eat in Jackson offers new insights into the lives of Black Southerners and helps challenge the persistent homogenization of blackness in American life. Michael O. Johnston, Ph.D. is an Assistant Professor of Sociology at William Penn University. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Getting Something to Eat in Jackson (Princeton Press, 2021) uses food—what people eat and how—to explore the interaction of race and class in the lives of African Americans in the contemporary urban South. Dr. Joseph Ewoodzie Jr. examines how “foodways”—food availability, choice, and consumption—vary greatly between classes of African Americans in Jackson, Mississippi, and how this reflects and shapes their very different experiences of a shared racial identity. Ewoodzie spent more than a year following a group of socioeconomically diverse African Americans—from upper-middle-class patrons of the city's fine-dining restaurants to men experiencing homelessness who must organize their days around the schedules of soup kitchens. Ewoodzie goes food shopping, cooks, and eats with a young mother living in poverty and a grandmother working two jobs. He works in a Black-owned BBQ restaurant, and he meets a man who decides to become a vegan for health reasons but who must drive across town to get tofu and quinoa. Ewoodzie also learns about how soul food is changing and why it is no longer a staple survival food. Throughout, he shows how food choices influence, and are influenced by, the racial and class identities of Black Jacksonians. By tracing these contemporary African American foodways, Getting Something to Eat in Jackson offers new insights into the lives of Black Southerners and helps challenge the persistent homogenization of blackness in American life. Michael O. Johnston, Ph.D. is an Assistant Professor of Sociology at William Penn University. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/african-american-studies

Getting Something to Eat in Jackson (Princeton Press, 2021) uses food—what people eat and how—to explore the interaction of race and class in the lives of African Americans in the contemporary urban South. Dr. Joseph Ewoodzie Jr. examines how “foodways”—food availability, choice, and consumption—vary greatly between classes of African Americans in Jackson, Mississippi, and how this reflects and shapes their very different experiences of a shared racial identity. Ewoodzie spent more than a year following a group of socioeconomically diverse African Americans—from upper-middle-class patrons of the city's fine-dining restaurants to men experiencing homelessness who must organize their days around the schedules of soup kitchens. Ewoodzie goes food shopping, cooks, and eats with a young mother living in poverty and a grandmother working two jobs. He works in a Black-owned BBQ restaurant, and he meets a man who decides to become a vegan for health reasons but who must drive across town to get tofu and quinoa. Ewoodzie also learns about how soul food is changing and why it is no longer a staple survival food. Throughout, he shows how food choices influence, and are influenced by, the racial and class identities of Black Jacksonians. By tracing these contemporary African American foodways, Getting Something to Eat in Jackson offers new insights into the lives of Black Southerners and helps challenge the persistent homogenization of blackness in American life. Michael O. Johnston, Ph.D. is an Assistant Professor of Sociology at William Penn University. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

Getting Something to Eat in Jackson (Princeton Press, 2021) uses food—what people eat and how—to explore the interaction of race and class in the lives of African Americans in the contemporary urban South. Dr. Joseph Ewoodzie Jr. examines how “foodways”—food availability, choice, and consumption—vary greatly between classes of African Americans in Jackson, Mississippi, and how this reflects and shapes their very different experiences of a shared racial identity. Ewoodzie spent more than a year following a group of socioeconomically diverse African Americans—from upper-middle-class patrons of the city's fine-dining restaurants to men experiencing homelessness who must organize their days around the schedules of soup kitchens. Ewoodzie goes food shopping, cooks, and eats with a young mother living in poverty and a grandmother working two jobs. He works in a Black-owned BBQ restaurant, and he meets a man who decides to become a vegan for health reasons but who must drive across town to get tofu and quinoa. Ewoodzie also learns about how soul food is changing and why it is no longer a staple survival food. Throughout, he shows how food choices influence, and are influenced by, the racial and class identities of Black Jacksonians. By tracing these contemporary African American foodways, Getting Something to Eat in Jackson offers new insights into the lives of Black Southerners and helps challenge the persistent homogenization of blackness in American life. Michael O. Johnston, Ph.D. is an Assistant Professor of Sociology at William Penn University. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/american-studies

Getting Something to Eat in Jackson (Princeton Press, 2021) uses food—what people eat and how—to explore the interaction of race and class in the lives of African Americans in the contemporary urban South. Dr. Joseph Ewoodzie Jr. examines how “foodways”—food availability, choice, and consumption—vary greatly between classes of African Americans in Jackson, Mississippi, and how this reflects and shapes their very different experiences of a shared racial identity. Ewoodzie spent more than a year following a group of socioeconomically diverse African Americans—from upper-middle-class patrons of the city's fine-dining restaurants to men experiencing homelessness who must organize their days around the schedules of soup kitchens. Ewoodzie goes food shopping, cooks, and eats with a young mother living in poverty and a grandmother working two jobs. He works in a Black-owned BBQ restaurant, and he meets a man who decides to become a vegan for health reasons but who must drive across town to get tofu and quinoa. Ewoodzie also learns about how soul food is changing and why it is no longer a staple survival food. Throughout, he shows how food choices influence, and are influenced by, the racial and class identities of Black Jacksonians. By tracing these contemporary African American foodways, Getting Something to Eat in Jackson offers new insights into the lives of Black Southerners and helps challenge the persistent homogenization of blackness in American life. Michael O. Johnston, Ph.D. is an Assistant Professor of Sociology at William Penn University. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/american-south

Getting Something to Eat in Jackson (Princeton Press, 2021) uses food—what people eat and how—to explore the interaction of race and class in the lives of African Americans in the contemporary urban South. Dr. Joseph Ewoodzie Jr. examines how “foodways”—food availability, choice, and consumption—vary greatly between classes of African Americans in Jackson, Mississippi, and how this reflects and shapes their very different experiences of a shared racial identity. Ewoodzie spent more than a year following a group of socioeconomically diverse African Americans—from upper-middle-class patrons of the city's fine-dining restaurants to men experiencing homelessness who must organize their days around the schedules of soup kitchens. Ewoodzie goes food shopping, cooks, and eats with a young mother living in poverty and a grandmother working two jobs. He works in a Black-owned BBQ restaurant, and he meets a man who decides to become a vegan for health reasons but who must drive across town to get tofu and quinoa. Ewoodzie also learns about how soul food is changing and why it is no longer a staple survival food. Throughout, he shows how food choices influence, and are influenced by, the racial and class identities of Black Jacksonians. By tracing these contemporary African American foodways, Getting Something to Eat in Jackson offers new insights into the lives of Black Southerners and helps challenge the persistent homogenization of blackness in American life. Michael O. Johnston, Ph.D. is an Assistant Professor of Sociology at William Penn University. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/anthropology

Getting Something to Eat in Jackson (Princeton Press, 2021) uses food—what people eat and how—to explore the interaction of race and class in the lives of African Americans in the contemporary urban South. Dr. Joseph Ewoodzie Jr. examines how “foodways”—food availability, choice, and consumption—vary greatly between classes of African Americans in Jackson, Mississippi, and how this reflects and shapes their very different experiences of a shared racial identity. Ewoodzie spent more than a year following a group of socioeconomically diverse African Americans—from upper-middle-class patrons of the city's fine-dining restaurants to men experiencing homelessness who must organize their days around the schedules of soup kitchens. Ewoodzie goes food shopping, cooks, and eats with a young mother living in poverty and a grandmother working two jobs. He works in a Black-owned BBQ restaurant, and he meets a man who decides to become a vegan for health reasons but who must drive across town to get tofu and quinoa. Ewoodzie also learns about how soul food is changing and why it is no longer a staple survival food. Throughout, he shows how food choices influence, and are influenced by, the racial and class identities of Black Jacksonians. By tracing these contemporary African American foodways, Getting Something to Eat in Jackson offers new insights into the lives of Black Southerners and helps challenge the persistent homogenization of blackness in American life. Michael O. Johnston, Ph.D. is an Assistant Professor of Sociology at William Penn University. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/public-policy

Getting Something to Eat in Jackson (Princeton Press, 2021) uses food—what people eat and how—to explore the interaction of race and class in the lives of African Americans in the contemporary urban South. Dr. Joseph Ewoodzie Jr. examines how “foodways”—food availability, choice, and consumption—vary greatly between classes of African Americans in Jackson, Mississippi, and how this reflects and shapes their very different experiences of a shared racial identity. Ewoodzie spent more than a year following a group of socioeconomically diverse African Americans—from upper-middle-class patrons of the city's fine-dining restaurants to men experiencing homelessness who must organize their days around the schedules of soup kitchens. Ewoodzie goes food shopping, cooks, and eats with a young mother living in poverty and a grandmother working two jobs. He works in a Black-owned BBQ restaurant, and he meets a man who decides to become a vegan for health reasons but who must drive across town to get tofu and quinoa. Ewoodzie also learns about how soul food is changing and why it is no longer a staple survival food. Throughout, he shows how food choices influence, and are influenced by, the racial and class identities of Black Jacksonians. By tracing these contemporary African American foodways, Getting Something to Eat in Jackson offers new insights into the lives of Black Southerners and helps challenge the persistent homogenization of blackness in American life. Michael O. Johnston, Ph.D. is an Assistant Professor of Sociology at William Penn University. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/sociology

Getting Something to Eat in Jackson (Princeton Press, 2021) uses food—what people eat and how—to explore the interaction of race and class in the lives of African Americans in the contemporary urban South. Dr. Joseph Ewoodzie Jr. examines how “foodways”—food availability, choice, and consumption—vary greatly between classes of African Americans in Jackson, Mississippi, and how this reflects and shapes their very different experiences of a shared racial identity. Ewoodzie spent more than a year following a group of socioeconomically diverse African Americans—from upper-middle-class patrons of the city's fine-dining restaurants to men experiencing homelessness who must organize their days around the schedules of soup kitchens. Ewoodzie goes food shopping, cooks, and eats with a young mother living in poverty and a grandmother working two jobs. He works in a Black-owned BBQ restaurant, and he meets a man who decides to become a vegan for health reasons but who must drive across town to get tofu and quinoa. Ewoodzie also learns about how soul food is changing and why it is no longer a staple survival food. Throughout, he shows how food choices influence, and are influenced by, the racial and class identities of Black Jacksonians. By tracing these contemporary African American foodways, Getting Something to Eat in Jackson offers new insights into the lives of Black Southerners and helps challenge the persistent homogenization of blackness in American life. Michael O. Johnston, Ph.D. is an Assistant Professor of Sociology at William Penn University.

Getting Something to Eat in Jackson (Princeton Press, 2021) uses food—what people eat and how—to explore the interaction of race and class in the lives of African Americans in the contemporary urban South. Dr. Joseph Ewoodzie Jr. examines how “foodways”—food availability, choice, and consumption—vary greatly between classes of African Americans in Jackson, Mississippi, and how this reflects and shapes their very different experiences of a shared racial identity. Ewoodzie spent more than a year following a group of socioeconomically diverse African Americans—from upper-middle-class patrons of the city's fine-dining restaurants to men experiencing homelessness who must organize their days around the schedules of soup kitchens. Ewoodzie goes food shopping, cooks, and eats with a young mother living in poverty and a grandmother working two jobs. He works in a Black-owned BBQ restaurant, and he meets a man who decides to become a vegan for health reasons but who must drive across town to get tofu and quinoa. Ewoodzie also learns about how soul food is changing and why it is no longer a staple survival food. Throughout, he shows how food choices influence, and are influenced by, the racial and class identities of Black Jacksonians. By tracing these contemporary African American foodways, Getting Something to Eat in Jackson offers new insights into the lives of Black Southerners and helps challenge the persistent homogenization of blackness in American life. Michael O. Johnston, Ph.D. is an Assistant Professor of Sociology at William Penn University. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/food

Chicago's Black population is the lowest it's been since the 1950s. What was once a destination for Black Southerners seeking more opportunity and racial equity is now a city they're fleeing to move to nearby states, like Indiana, but also farther away like Texas, Georgia and Arizona. Chicago Tribune's Will Lee talked to former Chicagoans. Lee explains why they say they're leaving, and as life-long Chicagoans, he and host Jacoby Cochran talk about their own personal struggles on whether to stay or go.  Guest: William Lee — Reporter, Chicago Tribune Follow us on Twitter: @CityCastChicago Sign up for our newsletter: chicago.citycast.fm Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Join us on Wednesday, June 23rd @ 6pm EST for an informative conversation about the American history curricula in U.S. public schools with special guest, James Grossman, Executive Director of the American Historical Association.  James was previously Vice President for Research and Education at the Newberry Library, and has taught at University of Chicago and University of California, San Diego.  The author of Land of Hope: Chicago, Black Southerners, and the Great Migration and A Chance to Make Good: African-Americans, 1900-1929, Grossman was project director and co-editor of the print and digital Encyclopedia of Chicago and is editor emeritus of the series “Historical Studies of Urban America.” which he abandoned to his colleagues after 50 volumes. His articles and short essays have focused on various aspects of American urban history, African American history, ethnicity, higher education, and the place of history in public culture.  Short pieces have appeared in the Chicago Tribune, New York Times, Los Angeles Times, Time, New York Daily News, Chronicle of Higher Education, Inside Higher Education, and elsewhere. Grossman's consulting experience includes history-related projects generated by the BBC, Smithsonian, and various theater companies, film makers, museums, libraries, and foundations. Currently President of the National Humanities Alliance, he has served on the governing boards of the American Council of Learned Societies, Association of American Colleges and Universities, and Center for Research Libraries.

Brian Foster, self-identified Black boy from rural Mississippi, joins us today for a conversation about his book, I Don't Like the Blues: Race, Place, and the Backbeat of Black Life (The University of North Carolina Press, 2020). In this interview, he shares with us how his experiences growing up in, leaving and returning home to Mississippi shaped his storytelling. Foster first began this ethnographic project as a doctoral student in Sociology at UNC Chapel Hill. As he tells us, the project started as an exploration of educational inequality and race. It became something very different as he let himself be guided by the stories and experiences of the community he was researching. Brian tells us about a few of the folks he met while living in Clarksdale who shaped the direction and core ideas of this book; their stories highlighted perplexing and sometimes uncomfortable contradictions about what it meant to love and not like the Blues. We learn about Clarksdale, MI and the unique history of the Mississippi Delta, the development of the Blues Commission and Blues tourism as an effort to combat declining manufacturing and agricultural industries, the significance of the Blues to the Delta region, and the contradictions between investing in the Blues and investing in Black communities. We discuss storytelling, examining positionality in ethnographic research and how Foster sees Blues Epistemology as a lens to prioritize seeing Black Southerners as complex human rather than constructed caricatures. I Don't Like the Blues tells us an often-overlooked history of a community who has come to be defined as just one thing – Black Southerners – by just one thing – the Blues. By taking us into the homes, cars, backyards and neighborhoods of Black Clarksdalians, Foster gives us the stories and the framework for thinking about how race, place and community development has shaped the lives of Black folks in contemporary Mississippi. Recently, his public writing “How We Got Here” on his Mississippian family and the tradition of hog slaughter, was developed into an award-winning short film. You can learn more about Brian's ongoing work on his website. Nafeesa Andrabi a 4th year Sociology PhD student with specialization in Race/Ethnicity and Health/Illness. I am currently a Biosocial Fellow at Carolina Population Center.

Brian Foster, self-identified Black boy from rural Mississippi, joins us today for a conversation about his book, I Don't Like the Blues: Race, Place, and the Backbeat of Black Life (The University of North Carolina Press, 2020). In this interview, he shares with us how his experiences growing up in, leaving and returning home to Mississippi shaped his storytelling. Foster first began this ethnographic project as a doctoral student in Sociology at UNC Chapel Hill. As he tells us, the project started as an exploration of educational inequality and race. It became something very different as he let himself be guided by the stories and experiences of the community he was researching. Brian tells us about a few of the folks he met while living in Clarksdale who shaped the direction and core ideas of this book; their stories highlighted perplexing and sometimes uncomfortable contradictions about what it meant to love and not like the Blues. We learn about Clarksdale, MI and the unique history of the Mississippi Delta, the development of the Blues Commission and Blues tourism as an effort to combat declining manufacturing and agricultural industries, the significance of the Blues to the Delta region, and the contradictions between investing in the Blues and investing in Black communities. We discuss storytelling, examining positionality in ethnographic research and how Foster sees Blues Epistemology as a lens to prioritize seeing Black Southerners as complex human rather than constructed caricatures. I Don't Like the Blues tells us an often-overlooked history of a community who has come to be defined as just one thing – Black Southerners – by just one thing – the Blues. By taking us into the homes, cars, backyards and neighborhoods of Black Clarksdalians, Foster gives us the stories and the framework for thinking about how race, place and community development has shaped the lives of Black folks in contemporary Mississippi. Recently, his public writing “How We Got Here” on his Mississippian family and the tradition of hog slaughter, was developed into an award-winning short film. You can learn more about Brian's ongoing work on his website. Nafeesa Andrabi a 4th year Sociology PhD student with specialization in Race/Ethnicity and Health/Illness. I am currently a Biosocial Fellow at Carolina Population Center. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/african-american-studies

As Hoosier History Live salutes Black History Month, our focus will be on a massive movement of an estimated 6 million people during a span of nearly 60 years. Beginning during the World War I era, African Americans migrated in unprecedented numbers from the South to cities in Northern states, including Indiana. According to an article published in Smithsonian magazine, the waves of 20th century migration began with a move of Black families during the winter of 1916 from Selma, Alabama, to the North, a little-noticed start to powerful demographic shift that also encompassed a transition from agriculture to factory work. By the time it ended in the early 1970s, "a rural people had become urban." Some historians use the term Great Migration to apply to the entire span. Others refer to the era from the 1910s to 1940 as the First Great Migration, and describe the 1940s to 1970 movement as the Second Great Migration. To explore a range of factors and ramifications associated with this consequential migration, Nelson will be joined by Jakobi Williams, Ruth N. Halls Professor in the Department of African American and African Diasporas Studies and the Department of History at Indiana University. Jakobi, who was born and grew up on the south side of Chicago, will discuss ways that state and local governments in the South attempted to restrict African Americans from leaving. He also will describe the challenges that confronted them in Northern cities after they resettled. Since the early 1970s, demographers have documented a "reverse migration" among the U.S. Black population. As USA Today explained in a 2015 analysis, in recent years more African Americans have moved to the South than left it, returning to metro areas such as Atlanta and Charlotte. Our guest Jakobi Williams, the author of From the Bullet to the Ballot (University of North Carolina Press, 2013) , suggests the PBS series Eyes on the Prize as a resource for those who want to learn more about the Great Migration. Describing the beginnings of the Great Migration, the Smithsonian article notes: "To fill the assembly lines, companies began recruiting Black Southerners to work in the steel mills, railroads and factories. Resistance in the South to the loss of cheap Black labor meant that recruiters often had to act in secret or face fines and imprisonment." The article describes attempts by public officials in the South to retain African Americans "by arresting them at railroad platforms on grounds of 'vagrancy' or tearing up their tickets." According to the USA Today analysis, the three states with the largest population of African Americans at the end of the 1890s were Georgia, Mississippi and Alabama. "By 1970, New York, Illinois and California had the most African Americans." The reverse trend that began in the 1970s - the move of African Americans to the South - generally has been led by young, college-educated professionals and retirees, according to several sources.

James Grossman is Executive Director of the American Historical Association. Formerly Vice-President for Research and Education at the Newberry Library, he has taught at the University of Chicago and University of California, San Diego. The author of Land of Hope: Chicago, Black Southerners, and the Great Migration and A Chance to Make Good: African-Americans, 1900-1929, Grossman was project director/co-editor of the print and digital Encyclopedia of Chicago and co-editor of the series "Historical Studies of Urban America." Articles and short essays have focused on urban history, African American history, ethnicity, higher education, and the place of history in public culture. Short pieces have appeared in the New York Times, Los Angeles Times, Time, Chronicle of Higher Education, and elsewhere. Grossman's consulting experience includes history-related projects generated by the BBC, Smithsonian, and various theater companies, films, museums, and libraries. Currently, President of the National Humanities Alliance, he has served on governing boards of the American Council of Learned Societies, Association of American Colleges and Universities, and Center for Research Libraries. Jim Grossman's Twitter: https://twitter.com/JimGrossmanAHA American Historical Association's website: https://www.historians.org/ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

We often focus on the years when Elfreth's Alley was a center of artisan production, but this week we turn to the industrial age, which did just as much to shape the street. We learn about a few Alley residents who were part of the Great Migration, Black Southerners who came to Philadelphia and other Northern cities for work.

The Week in Review, Feb 1-5, 2016 Host: Brion McClanahan www.brionmcclanahan.com Topics: Southern culture, Black Southerners