Episode Sixteen: Jewel Mudbug

Gina Caison November 15, 2019

In the series finale of About South, we travel to the E.W. Shell Fisheries Center at Auburn University to discuss a subject near and dear to our hearts -- crayfish. Jim Stoeckel, an Associate Professor at Auburn, and Brian Helms, an Assistant Professor at Troy University, generously share with us their knowledge, expertise, and enthusiasm for this small yet remarkable creature.

The Jewel Mudbug, identified by Mael Glon, Dr. Zac Loughman and Dr. Bronwyn Williams. Read more here.

Residents of the southeastern U.S. are often surprised to learn that this part of the world possesses some of the greatest freshwater biodiversity -- Alabama alone is home to the highest diversity of mussels in the country, raking in 180+ species and counting, not to mention a large array of turtles, fish, snails, and a variety of other invertebrates. But we’re here to talk about crayfish today, and Alabama has somewhere between 80-90 species of them.

Our guests explain the key role crayfish play in freshwater ecosystems, describing them as “omnivores with a capital ‘O.’” They will eat nearly anything, including each other, and everything seems to want to eat them. This places them in a pivotal position within their aquatic systems, where their role changes depending on the species (some crayfish species are more docile, and some, like the ones our host Gina encountered, are quite aggressive). Though the motivation behind some of their behavior remains a mystery, their presence in an ecosystem is vital -- they are important indicators of climate change, pollution, and sediment contamination, and they are an excellent gauge for the health of a freshwater habitats.

A resin mold of a crayfish burrow. Note: it was nearly five feet tall.

But like most of the country, the southeastern U.S. is rapidly developing its landscape, and on the heels of this change comes the destruction of a beautiful and rare biodiversity. The loss of connectivity between ecosystems presents huge problems for not only crayfish, but all creatures that depend on movement between habitats, and poor agricultural practices threaten fragile species already on the verge of extinction. Brian and Jim emphasise education about conservation, protection, and appreciation for biodiversity to hopefully combat the rapid loss of something so precious to this region. Amazingly, learning about crayfish can do exactly that.

Thank you, Jim and Brian, for helping us bring this podcast full circle. And thank you, listeners, for joining us this season. Stay tuned for the future endeavors of the About South, and until then, take care.

Episode Fifteen: Gentle with the Melody

Gina Caison November 7, 2019

This week's guest practically needs no introduction because you've been listening to him on our show for years. Dr. Brian Horton is a professor at North Carolina Central University, a jazz history scholar, and a prolific musician. Gina calls him up to talk about all of the above and music programs at historically Black colleges and universities.

Brian Horton has shared his music with About South listeners for the past four years. Photo by Chris Charles.

Dr. Brian Horton has been the man behind About South's music since the very beginning, and he’s known he wanted to pursue music since the beginning of his life. As a child in eastern North Carolina, Brian dreamed of playing guitar, but his musical journey began when a teacher thrust a saxophone into Brian's hands. His family didn’t necessarily have a lot of professional musicians, however. Nevertheless, he became one, and did so with one of the world’s comparatively younger musical genres.

Jazz music was born roughly 100 years ago. It’s the music that has shaped America as we see it today, Brian says, and it’s one of the first original art forms of the United States. “It's the music that was used in our everyday lives,” Brian says. And he doesn't mean just household names like Miles Davis; he's talking about way before then, when music existed side-by-side with American life and with how we looked at ourselves as humans.

Brian on stage for the Brand New Day album release concert in Durham, North Carolina

Brian has lived all over the place, but he eventually returned home to North Carolina. For Brian, there’s a comfort in being around what he knows and in teaching students who come from upbringings similar to his own. “Me returning to [North Carolina Central University] to teach, there’s a difference there,” Brian says.

The students in his classes are mostly Black, and they come from musical church backgrounds. Their approach to music is often more visceral than Brian experienced in other parts of the country, where many students first engage with music through books and instructors. Brian senses a familiarity in his students, something that pushed them all into music. “I can feel something coming out of them when they play the music,” he says. “My job is to kind of shape and refine that as much as possible, but I dare not change what it is that they’re doing.”

We’d like to thank Brian for four years of beautiful music. You can find his work at brianhorton.com.

You can also watch a performance of his recent work here:

BLACK MAGIC Composed and Arranged by Brian Horton Performed and recorded Monday, March 20th, 2017 Voertman Hall, University of North Texas

Episode Fourteen: Cesar Lyndon's Cookout

Gina Caison October 31, 2019

In this week’s episode, we present our first full-length phone interview with returning guest Dr. Tara Bynum, a Mellon research scholar in African American history at the Library Company of Philadelphia, and Assistant Professor at Hampshire College in Amherst, Massachusetts. Tara takes us back in time to an era before the Revolutionary War in Newport, Rhode Island, where we are introduced to an enslaved man named Cesar Lyndon, whose remarkable story offers us a glimpse into colonial enslavement and pre-Revolution commerce.

Cesar Lyndon’s diary accounting what he provided for the pig roast. Housed at the Rhode Island Historical Society.

We begin by discussing the biography of Lyndon, a shopkeeper, trader, and accountant who, while enslaved to a clerk of the Rhode Island General Assembly, bartered goods with some of Rhode Island’s most prominent figures, selling them everything from pigs, to silver buckles, to copywriting services. While it remains unclear exactly where his journey to this position begins, he is literate, numerate, and an extensive keeper of records. In the lines of his thirty-seven page account book, now housed at the Rhode Island Historical Society, a chronicle emerges of the impact left on the colonial economy by British-imposed taxes and tariffs. Tara notes that while historians often discuss the effects of the Stamp Act and Sugar Act on wealthy white colonists, rarely do we discuss the impact also felt by black individuals -- Lyndon’s case is not exceptional, and in fact many enslaved men and women held positions that required skilled labor in a variety of industries. And yet the conversation of the Revolutionary War, and the many economic frustrations that led up to it, often excludes black individuals.

We also delve into what slavery in Rhode Island looked like at this time, as well as the narratives often propelled by post-colonial U.S. regarding the enslavement economy. Tara explains Newport’s role in the trans-Atlantic slave trade, pointing out that before the start of the Revolution, it was in fact the seat of the slave trade in the Anlophone world, and that like Charleston, it should be implicated (along with the rest of the nation) in the 18th century economy of human enslavement. She notes that Cesar Lyndon, while a victim of enslavement, is also a participant in this economy, along with many others like him. Though he may not have been pro-slavery, he is deeply involved in a socioeconomic system that involves this practice. As Tara offers, “It’s a complex system that, in our desire to understand the economics of it, we have not necessarily put black people into the mix of that action as people who are also buying and selling things, not just being bought and sold.”

Newport, Rhode Island in the 1730s. Image housed at the New York Public Library via Wikimedia Commons.

Additionally, the human element of enslavement is often neglected from critical conversation, particularly where numbers are concerned. But in the margins of this account book, Tara explains, are short notes about Cesar Lyndon’s life -- that he chose to paint the bedchamber of his girlfriend blue and white, that he eventually married her, that they took a trip together to enjoy a celebratory pig roast with a group of their friends -- and it is in these margins that a brief but clear picture emerges of an enslaved man’s life in colonial North America, in a port city that in this era did not yet know freedom, and that in this space he was connected to a constellation of figures that would shape the history of the state, the nation, and the world.

We would like to thank the Rhode Island Historical Society, The Library Company of Philadelphia, The Hodson Trust at Washington College, the John Carter Brown Library, the National Endowment for the Humanities, Rutgers University, and the American Antiquarian Society. We encourage you to visit and/or support these institutions.

Episode Thirteen: Between a Rock & a Hard Place

Gina Caison October 24, 2019

This week, we keep it in the family as Gina sits down with new About South co-producer Jessica Parker. Jessica grew up in Fayette County, GA, home of the Line Creek Petroglyph, a large, engraved rock with a complicated history. Jessica first learned about the petroglyph when it became the subject of national news -- because someone had stolen it. Years later, she and Gina attempt to solve the mystery of the Line Creek Petroglyph.

The petroglyph at Line Creek Nature Center in middle Georgia entered the modern public record when local historian Eddie Lanham was conducting surveys of other historically significant sites in the area. The large boulder appeared to have a sunburst pattern carved into it.

Found in the homelands of Muscogee Creek peoples, it seemed likely that the petroglyph was an Indigenous artifact with significant historical value. But in 2013, like numerous Indigenous artifacts before and after it, the Line Creek Petroglyph was stolen.

Local Fayette County historian Eddie Lanham saw the petroglyph when conducting research related to Alexander Ware.

Moving the boulder would not have been an easy task, Jessica says. The job would likely require more than one person and would involve a literal uphill battle deep in the woods.

As a Potawatomi person, Jessica can think of similar things happening to other Indigenous objects of importance. “For some reason, people feel entitled to take Native American artifacts in a way that they don’t necessarily feel entitled to take other kinds of artifacts,” she explains.

Just a week or so later, the thieves quietly returned the petroglyph. But shortly after it was returned, it was moved again.

Jessica tried to track it down but hit a dead end: the Department of Natural Resources said it’s “in a safe place” with them. Jessica and Gina travel to Fayette County and sit down with Eddie Lanham for a conversation about the petroglyph’s history and its present home.

Together, Jessica and Gina attempt to unravel the mystery of who took the Line Creek Petroglyph and why. And they look to find its location today.

Episode Twelve: To Tell the Truth

Gina Caison October 10, 2019

In this week’s episode of About South, we travel to St. John the Baptist Parish in Louisiana to meet with Ashley Rogers, executive director at the Whitney Plantation museum and memorial site, to discuss the history of plantation enslavement in the U.S. South. As the only plantation museum in Louisiana with a focus on slavery, its rare and vital approach in exhibiting the area’s gruesome agricultral industrial complex sheds light on one of the most painfully minimized eras of American history.

The memorial to enslaved children at Whitney Plantation.

Whereas most plantation “museums” in the U.S. South concentrate on white ownership and romanticized plantation culture, the Whitney Museum turns its undivided attention to the accuracy of the era -- forced labor, human trafficking, and brutal living conditions. In its 150 year operation, 350 enslaved individuals were sent “down the river” to this Louisiana sugar and ricing plantation, and according to Ashely, this was considered by many to be a death sentence. Between backbreaking work, infectious disease, malnutrition, and the unbearable heat, the mortality rate was exceptionally high.

The Antioch Baptist Church, which was moved to the site, but founded by formerly enslaved men following emancipation.

Contrary to popular opinion, however, not much changed in the post-Civil War era. Many of those individuals remained at the Whitney Plantation even after emancipation, working the same jobs for very little pay. Even with the introduction of labor laws in the 1930s, few could afford to leave. Generation after generation remained at the plantation, and the slave cabins, as Ashely chillingly notes, remained occupied by those generations until 1975 -- a full 110 years after the war.

The cabins at Whitney, where descendants of the formerly enslaved lived until the mid 1970s.

Now, the plantation looks very different. There are trees, which before would have been cut down to make room for more crops. There are memorials, which honor the men and women who lived and died at the hands of a brutal agricultural operation fueled by racism and greed. But most importantly there are conversations, often overhead by our guest as she guides thousands of visitors through the museum. Something about the space allows people to be vulnerable, Ashley says, and it shows in the comments and stories they share with one another, often across races and experiences. “Often what we do in this country is bottle that up. People get scared to talk about race . . . but there is something about the experience of being here. I’ve seen people open up,” she says.

Whitney Plantation holds many plans for the future, and if you’re in the area, be sure to visit. Their bold and sensitive approach to displaying history is worth every minute of your time.

Episode Eleven: Of Miners & Mountains

Gina Caison October 3, 2019

This week, co-producer Kelly Vines sits down with Dwight Billings, Emeritus Professor of sociology at the University of Kentucky. Billings researches social inequality and poverty, especially in Appalachia, where Kelly’s family has a long history. The pair discusses what drew the coal mining industry to southern Appalachia and the future of the region.

The memorial to the Hurricane Creek mine workers.

Dwight grew up in West Virginia, where he was surrounded by coal. In the 1960s and ‘70s, the industry took a downturn, poverty returned to the region, and an Appalachian Renaissance spurred creative works, tax reform, and unionizing. Appalachia studies became an established field. The excitement of the era inspired Dwight to become a sociologist and study Appalachia.

Appalachian studies are also personal for Kelly. Though she didn’t grow up in the region, most of her family lives in the “coal counties” Dwight writes about, and his work was first place in graduate school where Kelly saw people like her family represented in academic texts.

There was a time before Appalachia was known for coal mining. Toward the end of the 19th century, the majority of Appalachians worked in subsistence farming. Families bore many children in order to have more people sharing in the labor. Each generation, plots of land got smaller. Farmland eroded, and the food supply in the region diminished. The prospect of abundant cheap labor and robust coal resources led coal investors Appalachia around 1900.

More than century later, Appalachia remains at the center of conversations around coal mining. Dwight says the sheer number of coal workers — the individuals who risk “life and lung” in mines — distinguishes Appalachian coal mining from machine-based work in places like Wyoming. “It has a kind of nostalgia. It has a kind of romanticism about it,” he says.

Dwight Billings at the University of Kentucky

In reality, coal mining isn’t so romantic, and movements to preserve the industry are a double-edged sword. Kelly thinks of her cousins who enter the mines at age 18, lured by the hefty salary. “I know on the one hand that it provides a lot of the economic stability for my family, for their families,” Kelly says, “but on the other hand, it eats them up.”

Most of our music this week is by Jack Wright. You can learn more about his work on the music of coal here.

Episode Ten: To Atlanta, With Love

Gina Caison September 27, 2019

This week on About South, we are joined by Dr. Calinda Lee, Vice President for Historical Interpretation and Community Partnerships at the Atlanta History Center. We dive headfirst into the topic of our hometown’s complicated past, and how we choose to tell the story of our past to others. Calinda helps us to understand the unique challenges in framing Atlanta history correctly, avoiding the pitfalls of past interpretations, and how we can plan for the future presentation of our historical understanding.

Atlanta’s most infamous motto, which is both revered and reviled. Photo taken in the Krog Street Tunnel during the 2017 anti-Trump paint demonstration.

Atlanta is often viewed as a constantly changing city, with its frequent construction, dynamiting, and rebuilding, and is therefore often perceived to be a metropolis without a “real” past, a “real” authenticity, or a “real” identity. Calinda assures us nothing could be further from the truth -- that in fact the very core of Atlanta’s identity lies in its nearly constant regeneration. Atlanta is one of the first cities to market itself to migrants, both national and international, as well as big businesses (and long before Amazon was even dreamed of). This promotion has led to an influx of ideas, cultures, and identities into one space, making Atlanta unique.

However, Calinda reminds us, it is important not to fall into the fallacy of Atlanta exceptionalism. The city still, like all cities in the American southeast, possesses a deeply problematic history rooted in human enslavement, segregation, marginalization, and socioeconomic division. Though a concerted effort has been made in the last 150 years to depict Atlanta through an erroneous and problematic lens, one in which the city (and indeed, the South) seemingly went to war for all reasons imaginable but preserving the practice of human enslavement, the Atlanta History Center currently works to shift this perspective to a historically accurate and more inclusive narrative. Though the reaction has been mostly positive, this change is not without its detractors. Calinda notes that a person’s understanding, or misunderstanding, of their place in history often comes with emotional consequences--and that navigating those feelings of denial, guilt, empathy, and reconciliation is exactly what the Atlanta History Center strives to assist in.

The forever Equitable Building in Atlanta, 2019

Quoting the late Toni Morrison, Calinda reminds us that there are no partial truths. And as she so profoundly reminds us, there is a powerful hope in seeking the truth. “Truth seeking feels like justice,” she says. “[It] feels like courage.” It speaks well, she points out, that many individuals feel that we now possess the ability, emotionally and intellectually, to take a critical look at our past, and face some long avoided truths. What Atlanta will do with that information has yet to be decided, but that is the space in which that powerful hope lies -- that the truth, even if never really found, is capable of being sought after.

Episode Nine: Fight

Gina Caison September 19, 2019

In this week’s episode, we sit down with Hillary Holley from Fair Fight to discuss the 2018 gubernatorial election that had the whole nation watching. We cover a variety of topics, including the tactics utilized by Brian Kemp’s office to suppress minority voters in Georgia, the ensuing litigation spearheaded by Stacey Abrams, and the hope for the future of Georgia elections.

According to Hillary, Abrams knew early on that the radically rightwing, Trump-supporting Brian Kemp could become the Republican nominee for the 2018 election, and suspected that voting rights would quickly become an issue. A voter protections system was quickly put into place via a tipline, and thousands of stories poured in. When Kemp refused to step down from his position as Secretary of State, the office that directly oversees the election process for all 159 counties in the state of Georgia, a distinct ethical boundary was crossed, and those thousands of collected anecdotes quickly became unmistakable evidence of calculated voter suppression.

The backlash was immediate, but it was not until the Randolph County scandal the national media thrust Georgia’s voter suppression crisis into the spotlight. Kemp’s office wanted to close 7 of the 9 voting polls in Randolph, a majority black county, and though thankfully this did not come to pass, a slew of other voter suppression measures did. An AJC investigation revealed the closure of 214 voting precincts in Georgia under Kemp’s administration, and the implementation of “exact match” laws left 53,000 votes either pending or tossed out altogether. The 2018 election marked a record high number of provisional ballots, and clusters of these emerged most notably in areas with high populations of people of color.

Stacey Abrams is launching a new program to protect the vote in battleground states across the country. Sign up, donate, and learn more at fairfightaction.org.

Such egregious acts of voter suppression leave many wondering how such sweeping measures are even legal -- but at one time, Hillary notes, they were not. After the passing of the Voting Rights Act of 1965, states with a history of discriminatory voting practices were barred from making changes to the voting process without first notifying the Department of Justice. That all changed in 2013, when the Supreme Court struck down a key section of the original leslation, citing a “change in circumstances,” and thereby allowing states to rewrite voting laws without any federal oversight. Almost immediately, Kemp’s office began to do exactly that.

Fair Fight is fighting on three fronts; the impending lawsuit, which is a response to an unquestionably corrupt 2018 gubernatorial election process; the watchdogging of the Georgia Legislature, ensuring elected officials do not roll back on any voter rights currently in place; and the advocacy of a fair election process, meaning more efficient machines, longer voting hours, better training for poll workers, and the expansion of access for all voting Georgia citizens.

For more information about Fair Fight, visit https://fairfight.com.

As Kelly so profoundly points out, it is impossible to have been through the 2018 election without seeing firsthand how overwhelming, chaotic, frustrating, and altogether broken the system is in its current form. However, we are not without hope. Hillary and Fair Fight have confidence that change may be on the horizon in the form of more comprehensive federal oversight, as well as the standardization of voting practices across counties. And with Georgia now officially recognized as a purple state (and the number one battleground state in the nation) a blue wave may very well be on its way for the State Legislature. To quote Hillary’s words, “FYI, we did win. We didn’t come close, we fucking did it. We just have to do it again.” And if Georgia voters can keep that fire lit within them by keeping Abram's campaign going, that may certainly be the case.

Episode Eight: Brigitte

Gina Caison August 29, 2019

This week, iconic Atlanta drag performer Brigitte Bidet joins Gina for a conversation about all things drag in the South. Brigitte is a classically trained dancer, a favorite host for southern queer publication WUSSY Mag, and a founding member of Legendary Children ATL. You may even have seen her as Dolly Parton #5 in the Netflix original film Dumplin’, starring Jennifer Anniston.

Brigitte on stage at MSR in Atlanta. Photo credit: Mark Morin

Brigitte is originally from the South and went to school for dance in Chicago. When she finished school, Brigitte felt like a small fish in a big pond. After stint working under Guillermo Gómez-Peña, the first Chicano artist to receive the MacArthur Fellowship, Brigitte made her way back to Atlanta feeling inspired. “I saw that people [in Atlanta] were able to do stuff here on their own, and I thought I was going to do that,” she says. “I thought I was going to be some sort of radical queer performance artist, and then that led to being a drag queen.”

Brigitte considers herself southern-adjacent. Her parents are from the North, and she didn’t do the stereotypically “southern things” her classmates did, like hunt or fish. “I never felt I like was representing the South. I just know that I live here and as a result, [I’m] infused with southern ideas,” she says. While older women she grew up around have influenced her performance identity, so have Broadway divas and pop stars, including Britney Spears, who’s from the South, as Gina points out.

“Yeah, but she’s not like a blue-haired lady,” Brigitte says.

“She will be. Just give it time,” Gina laughs.

Video by http://www.starlightcabaret.com (Stefan Shagwell). Entertainer "Brigitte Bidet" lip-synching and dancing to "Rose's Turn (from Gypsy) - Lehman Engel " on stage the Starlight Cabaret Drag Queen & King Show 2017 in Atlanta, Georgia USA at Piedmont Park . The 47th annual chapter of Atlanta Pride Festival 2017 has been written and is already legendary.

Brigitte’s had a great career and her fame has spread intercontinentally, but the drag scene she helped revive in Atlanta is once again under threat. The go-to bars for drag have shuttered one after another, queer-friendly neighborhoods are becoming too expensive for the people who made them desirable, and the city’s remaining gay bars aren’t exactly happy to share their space — or their profits — with drag performers.

Brigitte is a different kind of performer than many of the older, pre-Ru Paul’s Drag Race queens. In the so-called glory days, queens coveted the divine feminine silhouette: large breasts, tiny waists, and wide hips. Brigitte, on the other hand, is flat-chested, lean, and muscular. Her shows include splits, tricks, headstands, and other clear calls back to her formal dance training. Nonetheless, it’s drag and it’s entertaining. “I do want to offer my knowledge and my abilities to drag. If that means not wearing breasts, whatever,” Brigitte says. “There are women out there who’ve had double mastectomies. Are they not women anymore?”

Brigette in 2019. Photo credit: Savana Ogburn

There’s no room for such antiquated ideals if we’re pushing for equality in the drag world, she offers. Brigitte bucks tradition in other ways, too. She hosts drag bingo in front of very straight, very masculine men and always brings up social issues during hosting gigs, whether or not the audience is receptive. Last year, the owners of a local gay bar where Brigitte regularly performed were exposed as racist. Brigitte and her friends turned their backs immediately, even though it was one of the few remaining places for drag in Atlanta. And so, in many ways Brigitte demonstrates a radical drag – one deeply aware of inclusivity and not divorced from politics – one that understands that this work in the South is radical politics, even when it’s a damn good show.

You can fins Brigitte @brigeitebidet on all of your favorite social media platforms. Check her out at the 2019 Atlanta Pride Celebration on October 12-13.

Episode Seven: Two, Mississippi

Gina Caison August 22, 2019

In this week’s episode of About South, we present the second half of our two-part conversation with policy advocate and longtime friend Sanford Johnson. We cover a wide variety of Mississippi-related topics, including the Jackson ICE raids, the 2020 election, and the defacing of the Emmett Till historical marker.

The Tallahatchie River where Till’s body was found. Photo credit: M. Susan Orr-Klopfer via Wikimedia Commons

But first, we pick up where we left off -- with the obstacles facing the Mississippi education system. Sanford wants to see the people of Mississippi engaged, aware, and holding lawmakers accountable for their shortcomings; he uses the state’s lack of a fully-funded school system as one example wherein elected officials certainly fail their constituents, particularly those groups that are most in need of resources--low income, ESL, high school, and gifted students suffer significantly more from an underfunded school system than their peers, and yet loopholes persist that allow higher income areas to keep more funding than they need, despite the promises of lawmakers. Ensuring that elected officials suffer the political consequences for their open neglect and indifference means change can occur for the state of Mississippi, and there is hope on the horizon--we’ll get to that shortly.

Before we do, we discuss the recent suspension of three University of Mississippi students who were photographed posing with rifles in front of a bullet-riddled Emmett Till historical marker. Bullethole vandalism is a gruesome and continuing recurrence for the monument, a symptom of institutional racism still very much alive in present-day Mississippi. “We’re not being deliberate enough in making sure that we’re building inclusive spaces,” Sanford says. “[We need to] talk about what it means to be in a place of diversity, what it means to treat people who may not look like you with respect, what it means to understand the history of the place you’re in and understand your role in the history around you. There are certain things you just don’t do.” In the age of Trumpism, wherein such individuals feel emboldened enough to commit acts of terroristic racism more openly and frequently than in recent decades, we must decide what kind of country we want to be going forward -- do we want to be a multicultural, affirming, welcoming place, Sanford asks. Or will we revert to an era of white supremacy? Unfortunately, there still exists a segment American society that wishes to see that backward vision of the United States come to fruition.

Headlines about the vandalism by the University of Mississippi students made national news.

And speaking of Trumpism, the ICE raids in Jackson, Miss. are still fresh on everyone’s mind. Though Sanford can’t say for sure why Jackson was selected by ICE, he does know that a pattern is emerging regarding the jobs these deported immigrants leave behind. These positions were once filled by black Americans, who worked in grueling conditions for poor wages to provide cheap labor to big businesses. When a demand for better compensation and fair labor practices arose, rather than comply, businesses sought out another group to exploit. Now that that group is being forced out, Sanford again asks what kind of country we want to be going forward. Will we improve wages and working conditions? Or will we simply find another group to exploit?

Nearly 700 undocumented workers taken into custody across central Mississippi. Subscribe to WAPT on YouTube now for more: http://bit.ly/1hYcJNa

But again, there is hope on the horizon. A competitive 2020 Democratic race is in the works, and with plenty of decent candidates to choose from, the possibility of positive change is stronger now than in years before. Though it’s easy to become confused with the sheer number of aspirants who have come out of the woodwork to run for office, Sanford keeps a handy series going on Facebook to cut through the chaos; he often likens the Democratic race for the presidency to a family cookout, where some candidates sit in the dining room, some sit on the floor at the coffee table, some sit outside in the yard, and some probably just need to take their sandwich bag and go. Whichever candidate we choose, these conversations need to continue -- if not for our own entertainment, then for the discourse surrounding diversity, progressivism, and representation in our politics. Follow his commentary at “Notes From the Cookout.”

Sanford’s helpful graphic for 2020 Democratic hopefuls.

For bonus clips of our conversation with Sanford Johnson (in what we’ve dubbed “the accidental Sanford and Caison Auburn football hour”), visit us here.

Episode Six: One, Mississippi

Gina Caison August 16, 2019

In this week’s episode, we travel to Clarksdale, Mississippi to sit down with education policy advocate Sanford Johnson for a conversation so good, we had to bring it to you in two parts. In part one, we reminisce about student government at Auburn, discuss education reform in the Mississippi Delta, and dive into that viral video that had everybody talking about safe shoe-wear activity.

In Sanford’s fifteen years of advocacy in his home state of Mississippi, he has been instrumental in building positive education reform, from supporting the establishment of state-funded pre-Kindergarten programs to promoting the enactment of responsible charter school legislation. His job has not come without challenges; when he first began working for Teach for America in the Mississippi Delta, the area was home to some of the lowest performing low income students in the country, and the state ranked at the bottom when it came to sex education -- Sanford taught in a county with a 1 in 10 pregnancy rate among teenage girls, a clear sign that the strict abstinence-only education policy mandated by the state was failing its students. In the years that followed, Sanford worked on getting inclusive and medically accurate sex education in Mississippi schools, which included not only included STD education/prevention education, but safe sex and proper condom use.

Which brings us to a conversation about footwear, or rather, how to humorously subvert the Mississippi Education Department’s strict ban on condom demonstrations. Sanford explains that after a training exercise, in which an educator was instructed not to pantomime the accurate application of a condom, they filmed a tongue-in-cheek video wherein Sanford demonstrates how to safely put a sock before engaging in “shoe activities.” What started out as an amusing clip became a viral sensation, making the rounds across the internet before being featured on John Oliver’s Last Week Tonight (the original video currently sits at a whopping 1.5 million views on YouTube). Though the sock demonstration was made in jest, it has since become an example of the lengths educators often go to ensure that students recieve adequate sex education, and opens a dialogue about demonstrating safe sex practices in the classroom.

Mississippi's new sex education law prevents teachers from showing teens how to use condoms. However, they CAN show kids how to protect their feet through correct and consistent sock use.

We also discuss the introduction of comprehensive charter school legislation in Mississippi, an issue that Sanford oversaw during his time at the nonprofit organization Mississippi First. To prevent the pitfalls of racial and socioeconomic segregation, adequate state policy was necessary to ensure high standards and accountability in what could easily become an irresponsible education market. Sanford explains that by implementing a rigorous application process, as well as placing clear restrictions on private and for-profit schools, Mississippi can safeguard itself against both modern segregation academies and low-performing charter institutions. If correctly monitored, charter schools and public schools can coexist together and find opportunities to cooperate, setting an educational standard that may inspire other states to enact charter school reform.

The Delta’s charter school, Clarksdale Collegiate.

Join us next week, when we continue with part two of our conversation with Sanford Johnson. We’ll cover other current events in Mississippi, including the recent ICE raids in Jackson, the vandalism of the Emmit Till historical marker, and the upcoming Democratic primary.

In the meantime, you can listen to Gina and Sanford discuss the speculation and superstition that is the College football pre-season. (It’s not really an hour, but that sounded better than “twenty minutes.”)

Episode Five: Handmaid Justice

Gina Caison August 9, 2019

This week, Sara Patenaude of the Handmaid Coalition of Georgia joins Gina for a discussion of reproductive rights in the state and beyond and what it means to stage a successful protest in the U.S. South.

The National Handmaid Coalition is a loosely organized group that formed after the 2016 election. Volunteers don white bonnets and red cloaks, a riff on Margaret Atwood’s novel (and award-winning Hulu television show) The Handmaid’s Tale, to bring attention to issues of reproductive health and justice. In Atwood’s dystopian future, some women have trouble having kids and an underclass of women is forced into surrogacy. “The symbol of a handmaid has really become deeply ingrained in this idea of people protesting against the walkback of abortion rights,” Sara says.

The Handmaid Coalition of Georgia. Photo Credit: Steve Steve Eberhardt

The Handmaid Coalition of Georgia formed in 2017 during a national 50 maids in 50 states protest where handmaids showed up at state capitols across the country in handmaid garb. Georgia’s chapter is one of the most active largely because of HB481, six-week abortion ban introduced this past legislative session. Each day of the session, handmaids showed up at the capitol and silently protested. Protests ranged from a couple to a couple dozen handmaids lining hallways, stairs and the capitol rotunda. Georgia’s governor signed HB481 into law, and if court challenges fail, the law goes into effect on Jan. 1, 2020.

“What it does is effectively stops women from being able to access abortion after six weeks of pregnancy, which is really just two weeks after your missed period,” Sara says. “It’s far too fast for most women to even know that they’re pregnant, especially too fast for women to access abortion if that’s what they need.”

A Handmaid in Georgia. Photo Credit: Steve Eberhardt

HB481 is among several anti-abortion bills that made their way through state legislatures, including in Tennessee, Alabama, Missouri, Ohio, and Utah. “What they’re trying to do is to dismantle abortion rights in our entire country,” Sara says. The laws target and could potentially overturn monumental abortion rights precedents like Roe v. Wade and Parenthood v. Casey, making abortion access a state-level issue. “It maybe seems expected in the Southeast, but this is happening everywhere,” Gina notes.

Sara was drawn to the Handmaid Coalition for a variety of reasons. She holds degrees in English and history; she loves Atwood’s novel and its exploration of women’s bodily autonomy; she does advovacy work behind-the-scenes; and she’s among the one in four women who’ve had an abortion. When she heard about the protests, it just made sense for her to get involved. “The number one thing you can do to limit women is to limit their reproductive choices,” she says.

Sara says the Handmaids have gotten a wide range of reactions, including from lawmakers, but generally people are either very much for their cause or very much against it. One male lawmaker told them the women in The Handmaid’s Tale can’t have babies because they’ve had too many abortions. The real reason? Male sterility. “Ugh,” Gina replies.

If you’d like to support the people fighting the rollbacks of women’s reproductive rights, please visit the following members of the Georgia Reproductive Health and Justice Coalition:

Sister Song

SisterLove, Inc.

Feminist Women's Health Center

URGE: Unite for Reproductive and Gender Equity

SPARK Reproductive Justice Now

NARAL Pro-choice Georgia

Planned Parenthood Southeast

We’d like to thank Sara for joining us for this conversation. Her work also recently appeared in the Washington Post in response to Trump’s racist remarks about Baltimore and Representative Elijah Cummings.

Episode Four: A Postsouthern World

Gina Caison July 25, 2019

In this week’s episode, we travel to Copenhagen, Denmark to sit down with Martyn Bone, a southern studies scholar and Associate Professor at the University of Copenhagen, to discuss globalism and a postsouthern idea on an international scale. We touch on everything from overseas interest in U.S. Southern literature to the U.S. South’s long history with immigration, as well as our hometown Atlanta’s role in this international conversation.

Martyn Bone’s latest work from UGA Press.

Many students of the southern studies discipline may recognize Martyn Bone’s association with the term “postsouthern.” Martyn explains his role in the postsouthern conversation, citing the scholarship of Lewis P. Simpson and Michael Kreyling as progenitors of the term. Martyn’s goal was to reconnect the term to the material geography of the region, particularly as a term that could help contextualize the socio-economic and demographic change of the U.S. South, as well as reconceptualize the representation and feticization of southern space through postmodern critical theory.

Though the postsouthern concept does indicate change, Martyn emphasizes that the “post” does not mean a complete “moving on” or “breaking away from” -- rather, the term “postsouthern” invites us to rethink the South and its sense of place, particularly on an international level. Globalization is not a new occurence in the South, Martyn explains, and in regards to slavery, immigration, and trans-Atlantic economics, it carries quite a large presence in the geographic region. Though the U.S. South for many decades remained largely unappealing to immigrants, the 1970’s and 1980’s brought on a large wave of immigration, both trans-Atlantic and trans-Pacific, and the changing demographics continue to impact how we view the South both as a concept and as an identity. Often, literature helps us understand this phenomenon in a way that numbers and statistics will not allow us to relate to. Martyn outlines how the novel, often written through a first-person narrative, creates a strong emotional response in a reader, and that connection can convey nebulous concepts like migration and demographic change in a more meaningful way than simple data.

Martyn’s Bone first book from LSU Press.

Sometimes we cannot help but wonder what international interest the U.S. South and it’s literature could possibly generate for scholars in other parts of the U.S., let alone abroad (indeed, the fact that our humble podcast has attracted an international audience is a pleasant surprise to us!). Perhaps it is the impact of mass media, such as film and music, that has garnered this attention of overseas. Martyn recalls watching Dukes of Hazzard on the BBC in his youth, and the undeniable influence of rock n’ roll on British culture. Perhaps, he speculates, it is the perceived exoticism of the South, with cities such as New Orleans drawing international intrigue. Whatever the reason, these perceptions and images make the U.S. South an area of interest for international scholarship, and through their understanding, a clearer picture of this region emerges as a space characterized by immigration, globalization, and continual demographic change.

For more of Martyn Bone’s work, check out his books The Postsouthern Sense of Place in Contemporary Fiction and Where the New World Is: Literature about the U.S. South at Global Scales.

Episode Three: Radio Free Georgia

Gina Caison July 19, 2019

This week we’re bringing you a local story about independent community radio station WRFG-89.3FM. Gina sits down with station co-founder Harlon Joye at WRFG’s Little Five Points studio to discuss the history of station as well progressive media in the city, the region, and the nation.

“We wanted to start something big,” Joye says. WRFG began airing at 89.3FM in Atlanta in 1972. It was Atlanta’s answer to Pacifica Radio’s WBAI in New York, and the first of its kind for the city. WABE didn’t play jazz, WREC was more interested in technical things, WRAS was still figuring itself out, and Clark College (now Clark Atlanta University) didn’t have a radio station yet. Just as WBAI was for New Yorkers, WRFG became the go-to for what was happening and where the demonstrations were taking place. “We were a station that would give voice to certain particular groups that were excluded from the airwaves for reasons of class, sex, etc.”

Back in the late 1960s and early ‘70s, the founders of WRFG weren’t calling themselves socialists, progressives, or radicals. But they knew they were farther left than most were comfortable with, and that was the point. As Joye explains, “We don’t want to be a radio station; we want to be a leftradio station. There’s a difference.”

Commitment to diversity and social justice were — and still are — part of WRFG’s mission, and it even made them a target or the Atlanta Police Department’s communist alert unit, The Red Squad. They called WRFG “a mixture of Trotskyists, communists, weathermen (terrorists), homos, Black Panthers, and dope smokers,” Joye recalls. “Somebody said, ‘Well, they got about 50% right,’” Joye laughs.

WRFG’s mission statement. Photo by Gina Caison.

In November 1987, the Atlanta prison uprising unexpectedly pushed WRFG into the spotlight. Thousands of Cuban refugees from the 1980 Mariel boat lift were being held at prisons across the country, including at the U.S. Federal Penitentiary in Atlanta. Then, the U.S. government announced it was sending them back.

At the time, WRFG had two programs aimed at detainees, specifically the ones in federal captivity, and would take calls from detainees on the air. When the riots started, WRFG programs were the only way the Cuban refugees knew they could communicate with their families. They didn’t trust mainstream media. Families would visit WRFG’s studio and go on the air, directing their words to their incarcerated loved ones. The station made national headlines, Joye recalls, and even helped persuade prisoners to let some of the hostages go as a sign of goodwill.

New York Times coverage of the Cuban Atlanta Prison Uprising in 1987. — *New York Times* coverage of the Cuban Atlanta Prison Uprising in 1987.

Equally as unexpected but rewarding all the same are the Living Atlanta! programs that Joye produced at WRFG from 1978 to 1980. Joye received a grant through the National Endowment for the Humanities to produce 50 programs on every aspect of life in a segregated Atlanta from WWI-WWII. Joye and his team interviewed about 150 people. “We covered everything about Atlanta, from Black baseball to police to hospitals, music. You name it,” he says.

The program guide for Living Atlanta! Photo by Gina Caison. Archive credit: Harlon Joye.

WRFG is still primarily a classic, terrestrial station, but Joye and others at WRFG are working to push it into the future. Plans include a second stream, engaging listeners on social media, and broadcasting from special events, such as the Labor Day barbecue. Help them out by following along on their website, Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

WRFG continues their progressive programming today.

We’d like to thank Harlon Joye, Christopher Hollis, and the entire WRFG community for allowing us to record this episode at their studios.

Episode Two: King, 1967

Gina Caison July 12, 2019

In this week’s episode, we sit down with Brian Ward, historian and Professor in American Studies at Northumbria University in Newcastle upon Tyne, England, to discuss his 2017 book Martin Luther King: In Newcastle Upon Tyne about Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s landmark 1967 visit to Newcastle University. Brian explains what makes this brief yet historic visit to northeastern England so exceptional, and we discuss the context of King’s journey, his motivation for coming to Newcastle, and the impact his presence continues to have on race relations in the northeast of England today.

The statue of King on the campus of the University of Newcastle upon Tyne.

At first glance, Newcastle seems like and unlikely place for King to visit—even today, the transatlantic journey to northeastern England involves layovers and costly travel expenses. 1967 was considered one of the busiest years of King’s life, and between his packed traveling schedule and the physical toll of his incarceration, certainly one of his most stressful. Why make the lengthy voyage to Newcastle to spend only a handful of hours there?

Brian speculates that King had many reasons to feel both “embattled and exhausted” in the preceding months. His anti-war stance on the Vietnam conflict landed him in hot water with black moderates, and wealthy white liberals expressed increasing alarm at his radical stance towards economic inequality –particularly his involvement with the Poor Peoples Campaign. Rising tensions within the Civil Rights community left King under immense pressure, and accusations of communism from the FBI, CIA, and Johnson administration often put King on the defense. Though King maintained his calm demeanor and unshakeable charisma, he was racked with doubts about the future of the movement he created; when an invitation arrived from Newcastle from an enthusiastic group of people who admired both King and his cause, he wholeheartedly accepted. The journey, though rushed, left him re-energized, giving him the courage to continue.

Newcastle University was the only British University to award Dr Martin Luther King (Defender of American Civil Rights) an Honorary Degree. He was awarded his Honorary Degree at Newcastle, on 13th November 1967, another 'first' for that great English City of Newcastle upon Tyne. Sadly, only five months later when back in America, Dr King was assasinated.

Brian recounts uncovering the clip in the unlikeliest of places—not on one of the many transatlantic trips required of a British historian dedicated to studying the African American struggle for freedom and equality in the U.S. south, but a mere five-hundred feet from his workplace in Newcastle, sitting untouched in two tins in a medical archive. This rediscovery of this priceless record offers insight into King’s relationship with the emerging British Civil Rights movement as he bestows advice and encouragement to those in attendance.

The northeast of England, Brian explains, possesses a rich history of abolitionism and progressivism, attracting the likes of Olaudah Equiano, William Wells Brown, Frederick Douglass, and Ida B. Wells. The welcoming reputation of the area, which is overwhelmingly white, goes back centuries, partly due to the Quaker/pacifist population heavily interested in women’s suffrage, economic equality, race relations, and other progressive movements. However, that reputation is not without criticism—race riots are recorded throughout the early to middle 20th century, and modern-day xenophobia and Islamophobic fearmongering unfortunately persist. With this in mind, we learn why it is important to contextualize, not romanticize, the Northeast’s welcoming reputation, while still recognizing its undeniable attraction to the marginalized, oppressed, and underrepresented.

The plaque honoring Frederick Douglass outside the residence where he stayed during his time in newcastle upon Tyne.

Though the subsequent twenty-two minutes of King’s speech are missing today (likely cut, spliced, and scattered amongst the various British media outlets of the time), the impact of his words on the British struggle for racial and social equality cannot be understated.

You can buy Brian’s book here. We’d like to offer him a huge thank you for sitting down for this conversation.

Episode One: North and South Elsewhere

Gina Caison July 5, 2019

About South kicks off its farewell season with a trip to England where we talk to Dr. Gavan Lennon, a professor at Canterbury Christ Church University, about southern studies in the UK. Gavan highlights the sense of solidarity those from Ireland and the UK might feel with the vibrant and productive history of African American resistance and cultural production in the U.S. South. Our guest also describes some of the problems with how white southerners use the term “Scotch-Irish” as well as the similarities between ultra-conservativism in the U.S. and Brexit in the United Kingdom.

Frederick Douglass Mural on the “Solidarity Wall” in Belfast. Image via Wikimedia Commons; photo credit: Laurence.

Gavan describes how he first encountered American culture from its music and literature and then realized in his graduate degrees that he was interested in studying the U.S. South. He describes how many people in the UK think of the U.S. South as a repository for the cultural elements that the nation does not want to embrace: monocultural conservatism, white racism, intellectual backwardness. In contrast to the sneering side, he also sees a strong sense of solidarity: an understanding that the U.S. South does have a history of violence and repression, but it also has a vibrant, productive history of resistance and cultural production. One of Gavan’s favorite public art pieces in the world is a mural in Belfast depicting Frederick Douglass and other African American leaders that conveys a sense of solidarity with anti-colonialist movements in Ireland.

Describing two boys dueling at Warkworth Castle, Gina notes similarities between how the Scottish people are depicted in England and how Indigenous people are depicted in the U.S.: both simultaneously demonized and romanticized on plaques and in historical landmarks. They discuss how white people in the U.S. South will sometimes identify as “Scotch-Irish” with a sense that the identity is somehow a defense against pure Anglo-Saxonism and / or a sense that they are descended from this righteously rebellious group of Scottish / Irish people. That fantasy often allows white people to claim a sense of both oppression and nobility.

Interpretative signage at The Castle in Newcastle upon Tyne. Photo by Gina Caison.

Discussing some of the problems with Scotch-Irish identity, Gavan describes how the term allows people to pick and mix the kinds of whiteness they want to identify with: rebellious, strong, naturally of the earth. They then discard the parts of those identities they don’t like (e.g. Catholicism). This allows people to preserve what they like about these terms without contending with the historical and cultural messiness, which flattens the region’s history and specificity.

Gina and Gavan briefly discuss the many valences of class in England, and how class is often used as a shorthand for pleasantness and desirability. They talk about Jersey Shore, and it’s UK analog, Geordie Shore, and how these shows tend to present its subjects as working class people who are overly concerned with their looks, and heavy drinkers. Viewers, in turn, can watch the show and are reassured that they are more organized and sophisticated. Gina notes how these shows interpolate class and region in interesting ways. Gavan and Gina then turn to a brief discussion of Common People: An Anthology of Working-Class Writers, and Gavan explains that although “commoner” use to mean that one was not descended from nobility or clergy, the contemporary meaning is a little looser and will often just mean “uncouth, unrefined, or unpleasant.”

The anthology includes both white and non-white UK writers, and a writer from the series who is the daughter of immigrants detailed an instance of verbal harassment on the way to a discussion about the book, describing how someone told her to “go back where [she] came from.” This leads to a conversation about similarities between Brexit politics in the UK and deep conservatism in the U.S. and how these two political ideologies seem to be borne from a similar tension that is often expressed in violent ways against people who are perceived as different. Gavan notes that in England many working class people have justifiable anger about being treated poorly, but instead of pointing their anger toward the Tory government, conservatism, and all of the structures we know are built to harm poor and working class people, they find somewhere else to direct their anger, and it is often politically redirected toward non-white and immigrant populations.

Discover more about this classic song and the Different Class album here: https://www.udiscovermusic.com/stories/pulp-race-to-no-1-after-17-years Listen to more from Pulp: https://pulp.lnk.to/Essentials Stream a playlist of Pulp's biggest tracks: https://Pulp.lnk.to/BestOf Follow Pulp https://www.facebook.com/pulppeople/ https://twitter.com/pulp2011 Music video by Pulp performing Common People. (C) 1996 Universal Island Records Ltd. A Universal Music Company.

Thank you to Gavan Lennon for sitting down for this conversation. You can learn more about Gavan’s work here. And listen to him talk about his new book here:

The image that inspired the beginning of this episode.

Episode Sixteen: Trahlyta

Gina Caison November 16, 2018

This week we’re wrapping season 3 of About South with a conversation about the legend of Trahlyta, a pice of folklore that says a “Cherokee princess” is buried under a pile of rocks in Dahlonega, GA. Gina and Allison Yost discuss the tale’s origins, why people are so connected to it, and the ways it mirrors many troubling ideas about Native identity in the South.

Trahlyta’s Grave | Photo by Thomson200 via Wikimedia Commons

A historical marker at the intersection of two highways in Dahlonega, in the mountains of North Georgia, recounts the legend of Tralyta. Legend has it that Trahlyta’s tribe knew the secrets eternal youth in the springs of Cedar Mountain. A man she rejected kidnapped Trahlyta, and once she was away from home, Trahlyta lost her beauty and died. Her body was buried back home at the springs, and a custom of passersbys marking her with a stone for good fortune began.

Allison came across the legend of Trahlyta when she was a student at the University of North Georgia. While in undergrad, Allison became fascinated by places like Dahlonega that have Cherokee namesakes. Allison read about the stones and researched the phenomenon in her graduate studies.

Screen Shot 2018-11-15 at 11.42.40 PM.png

The pile of rocks is massive, taller than a person, and people often decorate and paint the stones that they leave. Over time, the magical elements of the story have changed, Allison notes. In the beginning, people left stones on Trahlyta’s grave out of respect; now they do it out of fear — the grave is said to be cursed. The legend’s most common origin story is that a guy heard it from “his Cherokee friend.”

“Is any of this real,” Gina asks? “Well, real is such a complicated word,” Allison replies.

The stones are real, the historical marker is real, and the connection people feel to the story is real … but there’s not exactly a body buried under there, and there’s a very, very slim chance the story actually originated in Cherokee oral tradition. Elements of the story are seen throughout white ideations of Native peoples: the vanishing Indian and the romanticization of and oneness with nature.

It’s a story that many non-Native people connect with easily, and the physical space associated with it draws people in more than an oral tradition alone, Allison says. People make pilgrimages to connect with the land, tugged by the idea that to be connected with nature is akin to being Native. The site also works to alleviate white guilt. People want a place to mourn and to distance themselves from the white people who came before them. Placing a stone on Trahlyta’s grave is like acknowledging the suffering of all Native people. Of course, Gina notes, the compassion for the fake sacred site in Dahlonega doesn’t extend to actual sacred sites throughout the South that are destroyed to make way for development.

Episode Fifteen: Activism, Y'all

Gina Caison November 9, 2018

We get a little bit meta in this week’s episode as we sit down for a conversation with Michelle Khouri, host of The Cultured Podcast and owner of FRQNCY Media Company, a first-of-its-kind podcast production and marketing company in Atlanta, Georgia. Michelle talks about how her background as a writer compelled her to find a medium to tell stories more deeply, eventually leading her to podcasting. Through FRQNCY Media, Michelle hopes to create a podcasting hub in Atlanta that will connect the city’s sonic legacy to its contemporary technological and creative innovations.

We begin with a discussion of Michelle’s extensive history in the South. She grew up in Miami, “a sunny place for shady people.” She grew up immersed in her own culture and taking it fore granted before moving to Orlando and then West Palm Beach. Although she loved Miami, she never felt at home in other Floridian cities. When the opportunity presented itself, she moved to Atlanta and fell in love with the city. She moved through a variety of marketing and public relations jobs in the city before she took a job as the Public Relations Manager for the Atlanta Convention of Visitors Bureau. This particular job allowed her to learn everything that she could about the city so that she could communicate points of interest to visiting journalists and businesspeople. She notes that while Miami has a very clear vision of itself, Atlanta is so many disparate things to so many people. She sees this Atlanta’s disparate culture as an outcropping of its history of segregation: not just black/white segregation, but the segregation of Atlanta’s many different cultures into separate niches across the city.

Michelle notes that while the city hasn’t yet chosen its identity, it is, most of all, a creative city. She also notes that Atlanta’s ability to rebuild, redefine itself, and create something completely new in the aftermath of disasters and devastating fires colors the city’s character throughout its history. With her new company, FRQNCY Media, Michelle hopes to harness the creative and technology booms happening in Atlanta right now. Michelle’s vision for FRQNCY Media is to create a full-service podcast production company and community hub. They will also be building a physical studio space with recording studios, co-working space, and workshops for podcasters. Referring back to Atlanta’s robust sonic legacy, Michelle describes her hope to create a podcasting community hub in Atlanta. Gina then describes her impetus for beginning About South as a response to the massive southern culture industry, which trades matters of real political importance for southern kitsch. Although she knew what she wanted the message to be, she and Kelly knew very little about podcasting as a medium. She emphasizes how helpful it would have been to have had someone to call up for advice.

While Atlanta is home to so much creative energy, Michelle discusses how the city doesn’t necessarily recognize and support its artistic talent. She notes that people generally take their money to New York or Los Angeles because those places are more accommodating for artists, and talented Atlantans follow that money to those other locations. Additionally, the local government caters to outsiders, creating policies that are designed to bring in outside dollars instead of aiding creatives who are already here. Even with the creative drain caused by local policies, we still have so much talent residing in Atlanta. Michelle asserts that people love this city, and they are determined to succeed despite the local government. Local residents and citizens have created this ecosystem where people help each other out. Though we could create venues for more collaboration, the fact that we are still here is a testament to our determination.

Michelle Khouri, host of The Cultured Podcast and founder of FRQNCY Media

Episode Fourteen: No More Silence

Gina Caison November 2, 2018

This week we talk with Malinda Maynor Lowery and William Sturkey, both professors of History at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, about the recent removal of the Confederate monument known as Silent Sam. The monument was erected in 1913 on the upper quad known as McCorkle Place ostensibly to remember "the sons of the University who died for their beloved Southland 1861-1865.” Malinda and William note the important distinction between a memorial and a monument: a memorial honors a loss whereas a monument celebrates some new entity or concept. This distinction is vital when considering the timeline of Silent Sam’s installation on campus. Nearly 50 years after the end of the Civil War, did the administration truly intend to memorialize the dead or did it wish to declare the campus a space for celebrating Confederate values and Jim Crow practices?

The pedestal of Silent Sam after it was removed on August 20, 2018. Photo by Hameltion via Wikimedia Commons.

The removal of Confederate monuments has been a slow process lasting several decades, but the fight has picked up speed after nine people were murdered by white supremacist Dylan Roof in Emanuel A.M.E. Church in Charleston, South Carolina in 2015. Ta-Nehisi Coates wrote that “visitors to Charleston have long been treated to South Carolina’s attempt to clean its history and depict its secession as something other than a war to guarantee the enslavement of the majority of its residents” (source). He urged for the removal of the Confederate flag from capitol grounds in Columbia. Activist Bree Newsome removed the flag from South Carolina’s state house grounds in an act of civil disobedience in the summer 2015. Eventually, South Carolina officially removed the flag that had inspired and encouraged terrorism.

These acts of horrific violence reignited the decades-old fight to remove Confederate monuments that embolden and elevate Confederate values. In 2017, New Orleans removed four confederate monuments, including P.G.T. Beauregard and Robert E. Lee. The statue of Beauregard was removed in the middle of the night by a team bound in bullet-proof gear. Mayor Mitch Landrieu said that the statue of “Robert E. Lee was used as an example to send a message to the rest of the country, and to all the people that lived here, that the Confederacy was a noble cause. And that's just not true” (source).

Furthermore, the North Carolina legislature enacted a law amidst this 2017 climate that “prevents removing, relocating, or altering monuments, memorials, plaques and other markers that are on public property without permission from the N.C. Historical Commission” (source.) Shortly after this, a group of activists took town a statue dedicated to “the boys who wore grey” in Durham, North Carolina. Like Silent Sam, this statue was erected by the Daughters of the Confederacy many years after the end of the Civil War (source).

Plaque on the pedestal of Silent Sam. Photo by Hameltion via Wikimedia Commons

Malinda and William discuss what this history means for the UNC Chapel Hill campus. For many, the town of Chapel Hill and the University community has long represneted one of North Carolina’s most “progressive” spaces. However, as they explain the University’s Board of Governors is a highly politicized and partisan entity that has used the controversy about the statue as a “bargaining chip” in other debates about the role of public education in the state. On August 20, 2018 protestors toppled the statue. Currently, it does not stand on campus, but there has been a debate about its potential reinstallation. What does it mean to re-erect a Confederate monument on public grounds in 2018?

As educators, Malinda and William also express their concerns about UNC students’ safety and well-being as well as the role of historians in contextualizing these issues for the larger public. Ultimately, the presence of Confederate monuments dictates who has claim on a space. As Malinda says in this episode, Silent Sam was erected by a university administration that never expected UNC Chapel Hill would someday, finally, be integrated.

University Ephemera Collection, North Carolina Collection, Wilson Library, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill via Wikimedia Commons.

We’d like to think Malinda, William, and the Center for the Study of the American South for joining us for this conversation. We’d also like to thank Goliath the pit bull for his general good cheer and wonderful recording etiquette.

More information about the Silent Sam monument:

Maya Little, activist

News & Observer Op-Ed “Silent Sam doesn’t represent poor UNC students. It represents a lie.”

Forbes on Silent Sam

Episode Thirteen: Grow

Gina Caison October 26, 2018

This week, we talk pumpkins-- giant pumpkins. Randi R. Byrd serves as the Community Engagement Coordinator for the American Indian Center at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and facilitates the Healthy Native North Carolinians Network. She is also an award-winning grower of giant pumpkins.

Although Randi always had a green thumb, she only connected her interest in agricultural practice to her fascination with pumpkins in 2009. Growing a 700-pound pumpkin is a difficult feat that often requires the support of family and friends. Randi talks about the community she found not only in fellow growers of giant pumpkins, but the local Indigenous community as well as her online friends that encouraged her pursuit, performed ceremony on the land with her, and physically tilled the soil from which actual magic could grow.

Pumpkins are the perfect harbinger of fall. Around the end of September, they start appearing rapidly in grocery stores, on front porches, and in our food. For growers of giant pumpkins, however, the fruit is not a seasonal occupation. Growing pumpkins of this size requires months of planning and hard work. You must select a site in full sunlight, where the soil must be monitored and brought to the ideal pH level. The seeds should have the ideal genetics, as big pumpkins beget bigger pumpkins. Once in the ground, you must train the vines and cover them with soil to promote secondary root growth, while also watching carefully for signs of Vine Borer. A giant pumpkin takes at least 130 days to grow and each day is more vital than the last as your giant pumpkin grows into something incredible.

Growers capture the imagination of audiences at state fairs and weigh-ins, but it’s more than that — growers work to share their knowledge and seeds with other growers, promoting a community of those interested in mixing genetics and hard work to produce the stuff of fairytale. Although there is competition in the growing community, what it comes down to is cultivating land to produce more than fruit.

P.S. As Randi says, growing real magic isn’t about winning. In case you’re curious, though, the world record for giant pumpkins was in fact a whopping 2,6246 pounds set by grower Mathia Willemijn in 2016 (source).

More about our guest: Randi R. Byrd is unapologetic cultivator of love, community and absurdly large pumpkins. At the American Indian Center at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, she serves at the Community Engagement Coordinator and facilitates the Healthy Native North Carolinians Network. she collaborates with diverse indigenous communities in North Carolina and beyond around health and wellness through a holistic community lens, community grassroots organizing that values indigenous ways of knowing and practices, by facilitating and promoting tribally-vetted and culturally appropriate curricula about Native Peoples, and affirming tribal self-determination. In 2016 she was recognized by the university with the C. Knox Massey Distinguished Service Award, celebrating “unusual, meritorious or superior contributions.” Her hobbies include growing competition-sized giant pumpkins, fishing, poetry, and creating beautiful trouble with those who dare. She is currently working towards certification as a Horticultural Therapist through the NC Botanical Garden at UNC Chapel Hill and serves on the Advisory Committee for the North Carolina Native American Ethnobotany Project.

From Instagram, #giantpumpkin:

Gallery Block

This is an example. To display your Instagram posts, double-click here to add an account or select an existing connected account. Learn more