kynita stringer-stanback: Blaq (Black & Queer) in the Library, Part III
by: kynita stringer-stanback
kynita stringer-stanback (pronouns: Blaq*) is an information activist.
*kynita’s pronouns embody Blackness & Queerness simultaneously.
I figure in the dreams of people
who do not even know me...
Lorde, Audre. (1995). The black unicorn: Poems. W.W. Norton & Company, Inc.
2018 was an interesting year. The current executive government administration was sympathetic to white supremacists and made it socially acceptable to support extremists (e.g. the President’s comments about Charlottesville in 2017). Under the current leadership, colleges and universities were struggling to figure out what to do when white supremacists wanted to speak on their campuses.
I am employed at one of the largest public university systems in the nation. The lead attorney for our system came to our school to discuss our options when an avowed white supremacist was slated to speak on our campus. She stated that under the law, individuals who sought to broadcast a message of hate (one that would inevitably incite hostility toward women, the LGBTQ community, immigrants, undocumented immigrants, Muslims, Jews, Sikhs, and other phenotypically “underrepresented communities” meaning non-white) could speak in spite of the harm that said speech would cause our collective community. These individuals’ first amendment right to speech trumped our collective rights to live in peace or feel some semblance of protection, those of us who exist outside of the majority.
Photo by kevin turcios on Unsplash
At the same time, the librarians that worked within this very system of public universities were fighting for what has been referred to as “Academic Freedom.” I honestly did not know that academic freedom was something that had to be fought for in order to obtain.
Upon my employment I signed an intellectual property agreement with this public university system that technically owns the copyright to digital content I create. I created a Black History Month Series that connected the Black Panther film with the pro-Black political party of the Black Panthers and the Warrior Women of Dahomey - the only documented all-female militia in the world. The Warrior Women of Dahomey protected the king; no Dahomian King was every captured into slavery. These women hunted elephants and without using guns. Regarding the integration of the Black Panther party, I actually had created the video series before Black Panther hit theaters. I knew that the convergence of Blackness as a global popular culture phenomenon would touch so many people that it would be a billion dollar film. The film actually exceeded my expectations-it earned 1.3 billion and now, in 2020, we mourn our hero of Chadwick Boseman.
Studies across industries time and again have shown that the more homogeneity an organization has demographically, the less creative and relevant those organizations will become over time. Before entering into academia as a professional, I did not have any concept of academic freedom. I assumed that I, as an academic librarian, at a top research university could think whatever I wanted. My office wall had politically controversial posters outward facing for everyone to see.
Photo by Hannah Busing on Unsplash
The summer of 2018, the ALA Council interpreted the Library Bill of Rights to include the rights for hate groups to have access to meeting rooms in all libraries. On July 11, 2018, April Hathcock posted a blog about her experience as a member of the council that passed the referendum. She was hoodwinked all because she chose to trust the communication that she had received up until the plenary meeting at the largest gathering of library professionals.
Hathcock chose to challenge the cis-heterosexual white man who wrote the referendum. Less than six months later at ALA Midwinter she was verbally attacked in public at a professional meeting and not one single person in attendance came to her defense.
“Our semblance of safety in public spaces was not supported in the ways we thought to fortify democratic practices and collective security.”
After ALA passed the Meeting Room referendum during the summer 2018, I decided that I would never again pay dues. The fact that ALA thought it was important to make space for hate groups in public spaces, while public universities observed the rights of white supremacists at the expense of the safety of the greater community demonstrated that to me, our national leaders at the forefront of public policy were complicit with white supremacist ideology. It was clear that groups and individuals’ rights to hate speech superseded our collective right to peace. Our semblance of safety in public spaces was not supported in the ways we thought to fortify democratic practices and collective security.
“Public complicity with hate groups and white supremacist ideology coupled with efforts to silence the voices of librarians points to the oppressive environments we face within public academic spaces and the most democratic of all institutions in this country - public libraries. ”
By 2020, the librarians were able to have academic freedom written into their contracts, and the ALA rescinded its decision after a national outcry. However, we would be remiss to not examine these two situations outside of the context of one another. Public complicity with hate groups and white supremacist ideology coupled with efforts to silence the voices of librarians points to the oppressive environments we face within public academic spaces and the most democratic of all institutions in this country - public libraries.
The lie has been exposed. Public universities’ library policy AND public library policy made room for hate. The ALA attempted to silence a Black Woman who was standing for our collective safety. If the national organization that represents our profession sought to suppress and silence her voice—-what are we to expect from our local work environments?
These two examples are testaments to the functionality of institutional and structural racism that promulgate white supremcist hetero-patriarchal capitalist imperialism. Standing up for our collective community subjected our colleague to verbal abuse in public, professional space with no one to stand with her. Silence is complicity. Silence is violence.
This is why it is so important to understand the intellectual property agreements we operate and create within our institutions. Do we own our own copyrights? The creative and unique digital content that we create at our organizations, does it belong to the organization or to us? The articles and research materials that we write and create--are our copyrights listed on our work, or does the only copyright visible on the work belong to another entity?
Photo by Chris Sabor on Unsplash
When I found out that the work I created actually belonged to the institution and not me, I was deflated. It meant that the university system now owned the copyrights to the original content that I created. I wrote the script. I found the resources and I connected the dots!
“This conversation and ones like it must expand. We must articulate our experiences and be able to advocate for change together. We are tasked with making librarianship more equitable, replete with inclusive professional environments without fear, harassment, and hostility. ”
I signed an employment contract with an Intellectual Property agreement that was adopted in 1992 (that’s pre-internet!) when I was in high school. Though we had Hotmail by the time I graduated college, Google and cell phones were still a few years away. My point is that now, in 2020, we create original digital and material resources that our institutions and organizations are able to profit from though we are left out of the money equation. We are told that our publications, our resource guides, webpages, videos, and other resources are considered, “work for hire.” Are we rewarded for creating these resources and content?
This conversation and ones like it must expand. We must articulate our experiences and be able to advocate for change together. We are tasked with making librarianship more equitable, replete with inclusive professional environments without fear, harassment, and hostility.
In order to move forward, I suggest folks engage with the following:
Own your copyright
Seek remuneration for all projects you undertake outside of work
Begin to have conversations about what accountability looks like--Black Lives Matter statements of support are great, but what’s the road to demonstrable, measurable, organizational proficiency?
Hold conversations about ethics as it relates to free speech and collective security and safety from violence.