Bryan Stevenson, because of his TED talk referenced in the Intro, and also for his commitment towards truth-telling by creating a memorial to victims of lynching, has been a significant inspiration for this project. Since his comments on TED, made in 2012, that we have not committed to a process of truth and reconciliation in the United States, we saw the completion of the monumental and remarkable Smithsonian Institute National Museum of African American History and Culture (NMAAHC). While this is not a clear commitment to the spiritual and moral work needed as a nation, for some, like Chandra Taylor who visited the museum, it represents a "national effort" to make sure these stories are "not swept under the rug." Though it is a small step, and only a "building in Washington, D.C.," one that Chandra wishes could be part of "a mandatory field trip" for all Americans, she shared in an interview that she left feeling "more equipped to be out in the world, as an American, an African-American." Along with the "painful," "sobering" and "shock" of her visit, she also stated that she felt "self-awareness and pride." I wanted to consider the ways in which counselors could participate in the process of public remembering and be advocates for people moving through the mourning and celebration, and integration of new stories and realizations during their experience.
Counselor-facilitators of public remembering and grieving, a model of care for museums and memorials to the history of trauma.
The NMAAHC Council of Healers for People of Color & 'Feel and Think' White Caucus
Artist and filmmaker Jaguar Mary X shared from her visit to the NMAAHC, her discovery of a kindred soul, and ancestor, Susie King Taylor, a nurse and community teacher. Making connections with unsung and unknown figures of our collective past, seeing their faces and relating our own passions and work in the present as a carry over from a tradition nurtured in our ancestral communities, can give a sense of belonging, pride, and be healing. During her same visit, Jaguar Mary shared an emotional post about feelings of grief and heartache that came up: "I want to fall on the floor and WAIL in this museum! I cry for my ancestors and for all of us." I was in the midst of crafting this project, and had read of the "contemplation court," a sanctuary in the museum designed for quiet reflection, but was not aware of space to emote and grieve. I reached out to ask Jaguar Mary whether having dedicated room there to cry with counselors to help with processing or holding space would feel supportive. Through dialogue with Jaguar Mary X and Chandra Taylor, we imagined a room where counselors or elders of color would guide a group conversation that people of color could move in and out of as needed, and receive emotional and psychological support.
I also spoke with white racial justice activist and artist, Latham Owen Zearfoss, who described having "overwhelming moments" of taking in the "suffering," as well as the "beauty and resilience" on display at the NMAAHC. Though "awkward to cry in public" he also recognized that the dimly lit space of the underground rooms dedicated to the history of the trans-Atlantic slave trade and the violent aftermath of slavery and the Civil War, made it a relatively safe space to "have an emotional response." Through our conversation, Latham offered a Venn diagram that would allow safe space with counselors grounded in psycho-history and cultural competence for white people to "feel and think" and a separate council of healers for people of color, and then at the intersection of these groups, a voluntary cross-cultural multi-ethnic space for coming together. For Latham, the combination of "feeling and thinking" was critical, as coming out of the museum alone he longed to talk through the meaning and implications of the exhibits, as well as feel through his responses to them. Then, having an optional opportunity for an all-inclusive meeting space for those willing to come together in the spirit of "beloved community," as Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. spoke of, could offer a sense of collectivism, a "we're all in this together" experience for those committed to racial justice.
Artist and filmmaker Jaguar Mary X shared from her visit to the NMAAHC, her discovery of a kindred soul, and ancestor, Susie King Taylor, a nurse and community teacher. Making connections with unsung and unknown figures of our collective past, seeing their faces and relating our own passions and work in the present as a carry over from a tradition nurtured in our ancestral communities, can give a sense of belonging, pride, and be healing. During her same visit, Jaguar Mary shared an emotional post about feelings of grief and heartache that came up: "I want to fall on the floor and WAIL in this museum! I cry for my ancestors and for all of us." I was in the midst of crafting this project, and had read of the "contemplation court," a sanctuary in the museum designed for quiet reflection, but was not aware of space to emote and grieve. I reached out to ask Jaguar Mary whether having dedicated room there to cry with counselors to help with processing or holding space would feel supportive. Through dialogue with Jaguar Mary X and Chandra Taylor, we imagined a room where counselors or elders of color would guide a group conversation that people of color could move in and out of as needed, and receive emotional and psychological support.
I also spoke with white racial justice activist and artist, Latham Owen Zearfoss, who described having "overwhelming moments" of taking in the "suffering," as well as the "beauty and resilience" on display at the NMAAHC. Though "awkward to cry in public" he also recognized that the dimly lit space of the underground rooms dedicated to the history of the trans-Atlantic slave trade and the violent aftermath of slavery and the Civil War, made it a relatively safe space to "have an emotional response." Through our conversation, Latham offered a Venn diagram that would allow safe space with counselors grounded in psycho-history and cultural competence for white people to "feel and think" and a separate council of healers for people of color, and then at the intersection of these groups, a voluntary cross-cultural multi-ethnic space for coming together. For Latham, the combination of "feeling and thinking" was critical, as coming out of the museum alone he longed to talk through the meaning and implications of the exhibits, as well as feel through his responses to them. Then, having an optional opportunity for an all-inclusive meeting space for those willing to come together in the spirit of "beloved community," as Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. spoke of, could offer a sense of collectivism, a "we're all in this together" experience for those committed to racial justice.