Pages — Bus Stops & Photo Plans

originated from Gail Lewis’s Black Feminist Theory

Bus Stop
TikToks
Carnival in Notting Hill, London
Philip M NourbeSe, Caribana: African Roots and Communities

“Carnival represents an ancient and recurrent rite of passage [...] You suspend what you are, what you do, who you are, for a space.”

Philip NourbeSe brilliantly paints a picture of Caribana – Toronto’s annual variation of the Trinidad Carnival – and establishes the players and parties of this event. “During the Carnival season, an entire population is gradually released from moral and civic obligations, and the diverse social, economic, and religious groups become closely united in a single mass activity,” she writes on page 219. People enter the space of Carnival and morph from individuals into merely a small part of a larger collective body. It is a radical, powerful tradition where everyone simply listens and moves – and thus, also creates – sound.

However, the history of Carnival cannot be accurately represented without discussing those who simply watch this collective body as a means of entertainment. In NourbeSe’s text, readers see this group mostly as “well-dressed” white spectators. In 2024, I see a different picture. With the prevalence of social media and digital cameras, individual acts and actors become scrutinized and the subjects of jokes and laughs across the internet. I, from my dorm room bed in New Haven, CT, find myself watching several highlight reels and unserious thinkpieces on the “nefarious” or “embarassing” acts committed by participants. Whether it is a man failing at his role in a “2-man” or posting a desperate plea to the internet asking us to find the woman he caught a whine with, TikTok is taking the body engaging in a “single mass activity” and shattering it into a bunch of people isolated by the policing of their acts. It transports me onto the streets of London or Toronto, but not as a participant – rather, I become the spectator finding pleasure from critiquing something meant to be unbothered and celebrated.

(I desperately wanted to find the few videos I make brief mention to above but failed to recover them. However, I think the videos I have attached do justice to the idea that phones and an inherent degree of social policing from others at Carnival and online has a tremendous impact on the event and tradition.)

Update on December 31 – I found the two videos! Have dropped them as the last two below. (Fascinating to see the amount of phones taking videos in the first of the two videos.)

Bus Stop

Produced Media
Arrested Development, S3 E13
Oyèrónkẹ́ Oyêwùmí, Colonizing Bodies & Minds

his

his wife

In Oyêwùmí’s Colonizing Bodies & Minds, she is determined to question the conventional and gendered ways of viewing colonization. Specifically, theorists like Frantz Fanon have built their understandings of colonization through a male-centered perspective that defines colonialism as the “taking away of the manhood of the colonized.” Quickly on the first page, Oyêwùmí asks, where does that leave colonized women? It is a truly fascinating piece that in the end, casts a dark shadow of doubt around colonization theory both established and those that are ‘novel’ and ‘radical’.
Arrested Development – one of my favorite shows of all time – is centered around the Bluth family who have fallen from their gracious status as multi millionaires after the father George is placed in prison. The central perspective of an ultra rich white family means that much of the dialogue and framing plays with their fundamental ignorance and frequent displays of racism and – for a lack of a better term – class unconsciousness. However, the clip I have shown here – where Annyong, a Korean child adopted by the Bluths exposes that he was working undercover to exact revenge for his grandfather – plays into a different type of racial trope. This is not as overt as the egregious acts of the Bluths we are meant to see as ridiculous and absurd. This almost appears as just normal. The fact that immediately after confessing his true intentions into entering the Bluth family Annyong expresses his desire for Maeby (one of the teenage girls in the Bluth/Fünke family) is extremely interesting when we consider the Fanon quote Oyêwùmí mentions. Annyong’s two statements existing in the same line of dialogue is not coincidental – we have identified the theory that those colonized hold hunger for revenge and try to manifest it through intimate/sexual relationships with female members of the family.

Watching the show and especially this storyline now feels a lot different than before. Understanding this framing of colonization as something mainly experienced by men and as ultimately the concession of their masculinity clearly removes narratives and storylines of the relationships between womanhood and colonialism. When I found myself procrastinating on work this semester by watching Arrested Development and came across this moment, I instantly ran to my tablet and look at the Oyêwùmí text.

*If the Annyong storyline or Arrested Development’s premise still is confusing, you can read a better explanation here.

Bus Stop
Twitter / X
On Nikki Giovanni, Dr. Umar Johnson, and Pseudo-Pan-Africanism

When I concpetualized this website – specifically the bus stops I wanted to highlight and expand upon for the final project – I did not think I was going to write a piece on any singular black feminist thinker. However, seeing the discourse around Nikki Giovanni and the rewriting of narratives only days after her passing deeply upset me. As I began to think further about the conversations being had, I started to ask myself more questions on how we got here.
This tweet went extremely viral – as of the time I took this screenshot it had been viewed by over five million users. Within the original tweet, this quote tweet and several in the subsequent comment sections, the narrative of Nikki Giovanni studying & fighting for black communities for invalid or warped reasons seemed to spread far and wide. Some accussed Giovanni as being fueled mainly out of being rejected from white spaces. Others declared that the identity of a black scholar fundamentally isolates oneself from the black community. Shards of truth may exist within these statements but it is hard to engage with them when the dominant narrative seems to be that Giovanni failed in her ‘supposed’ role as a black leader. She did not love being black and maybe did not even want better for black people, but rather was more interested in cozying up to white folks – including her wife.
I was very upset to find these tweets and especially from people I presumed had never engaged with any of Giovanni’s poems or essays or interviews. It can be easy for me to be stuck on the nitty gritty details of these arguments but I want to look further. In their eyes, Nikki Giovanni is not a ‘good Black leader’. Perhaps she is not even a ‘good Black person’. There is a promotion of values that I want to highlight, as a concerning black aesthetic seems to be appearing at to the forefront of many’s minds. It is something I want to call pseudo-Pan-Africanism. It advertises itself like its original, authentic form – its mission is to eradicate white supremacy and establish solidarity and unity across the African diaspora. However, it stops there and rears and ugly head when it places its gaze on those who do not satisfy their conditions.
In my eyes, the face of pseudo-Pan-Africanism is Dr. Umar Johnson. He is a ‘motivational speaker’, ‘activist’, and most importantly, self-proclaimed ‘Prince of Pan-Africanism’. Many know Dr. Umar for his ever-growing library of TikTok soundbites where he pleads with Black men and women to not betray their race and get into relationships with white people. His clips where he dramatically chastizes ‘snow bunny lovers’ who are ‘lusting and thirsting over the skim milk’ are admittedly quite funny – and he knows it. This is a performance that he buys into. I started to think about his format of messaging and when I looked back at the Nikki Giovanni tweets, I could not stop wondering if there was a connection between the two.
There is a saying that all good jokes hold elements of truth in them – otherwise how would they make us laugh? I think many may guffaw or snicker when a Dr. Umar video pops across their For You page because of his vivid language and impassioned delivery. But I also think some people agree with the values he is advertising to a certain extent. The idea that cis black men or women who do not engage in relationships with each other should be cast away and seen as far gone is clearly a sentiment many agree with (note that Dr Umar has produced many transphobic and homophobic statements in the past – see attached video on left). What is implied here is that on the top a list of traits seemingly ‘good’ Black people have is a devotion to following this rule. When a commitement to Blackness on a qualitative level holds such a priority, people like Nikki Giovanni can create all the legendary works they have, but will always be regarded as undeserving of praise and unmotivated to truly further the cause.
I think the sentiment here is incredibly damaging and requires serious attention. The way Dr. Umar communicates this ideology is incredibly covert and clever and I think that it could have damaging effects on Black institutional memory. When those who are Others are being relegated as ‘poor Black people’ because they cannot or will not subscribe to the ideal Black life that is very rigid and fundamentally exclusive, we as a people begin to prioritize faulty aesthetics of pro-Blackness rather than genuine traditions of action and work. The people who pour their hearts and souls to the missions of pro-Blackness may not and will not appease everyone or fit into any specific mold (in a world where more queerphobia, misogynoir, and general class-unconsciousness thrive, this will always be the case). To replace these icons with nothing more than hoteps whose true ambitions lie in uplifting a toxic cis-Black male masculinity would be a grave misfortune for us all.

Photo from Robert Frank’s The Americans

Photo Plan
Currently named “The Yalies”
In spring of last year, I released an artist statement for my now ongoing project, “ADS FOR SALE”:
After two years of sharing Google Drive links and running from gig to gig with seemingly a new camera every week, I am finally ready to take my finger off the shutter for a little while.
"[ADS FOR SALE]" celebrates the traditions of labor I have consumed my Yale life with so far and forces me to reckon with the aesthetics I adopt as a photographer serving the institutions, groups, and individuals that hire me.
What gazes do I have to grapple with or morph alongside my own when I create art solely for someone else?
Can I chop and splice these works and make something truly of my own afterwards? Or do these pieces hold unsevered ties?
In the next few weeks, I will be posting several parts of this series as I try to become more comfortable sharing my work and as I close this era.
I cannot describe how excited I am to venture into my own projects soon where my aesthetics and messaging can live and prosper, unabashed and unlatched from anyone else's.
At the same time, this work has allowed me to find new homes and people that I now cannot live without. I will forever be grateful for that.
My photo professor from last spring Tommy Kha said something once that has really stuck with me – use these jobs and gigs as opportunities; take something for yourself. I have committed to re-entering to Yale scene of photography again but want to try my hand at capturing spaces that are much more foreign and uncomfortable for me. After reading the Combahee River Collective Statement at the beginning of this class, my eyes kept glossing over one line; “we believe that the most profound and potentially most radical politics come out of our own identity, as opposed to working to end somebody else’s oppression.” (2) Adopting this idea into the context of perspective and framing within photography and artwork, I think rather than trying to make an overtly political piece that promotes some grandiose message, I should simply embrace that my identity as a Black man on this campus alters my gaze and my access to certain spaces. What does it look like to be out of my comfort zone and taking a photo that says something interesting about this experience? I am excited to try something with a bit more social risk attached and am excited to think about the logistics of a photo series like this more.
In terms of certain photos or people I have been thinking of capturing, I have had the following ideas:
(1) Beinecke Plaza professional photoshoots – a representation of how Yale has become a vocational institution in many’s eyes. I see the Beinecke Plaza as a place of birth but also death – we fully embrace our future lives within corporate America abiding by the rules and standards of American professionalism and work culture at such a young age.
(2) Yale’s Zionism – Thinking about the perpetual presence of a Yale police car at the Slifka Center. What messages are being sent within an institution advertising their commitement to ‘institutional neutrality’? What is becoming the default? What is assumed to be true? What do we not question?
(3) People waiting outside of Commons – It is always a fascinating photo I have had in my mind that I desperately want to take. I think the tradition of ‘grabbing meals’ as a means of connecting ourselves to people is a testament to many things we see as natural in the life of a Yale student.
(4) The Tory Party – this one is a bit crazy I cannot lie. I have always wanted to do something resembling perfromance art where I enter a space I would never reasonably enter willingly such as a right-wing student group. What does it look like to enter that space for the first time and with a camera?

“Olde Common”, oil paint and acrylic ink on canvas, 8 x 10 inches.

Made in “Painting Basics”, with help and support from Professor Matthew Watson and Flores.

Photo Plan
Currently named “Olde Common”
“Our bodies are sites of liberation.” (Hersey)

“We reclaim our bodies, our lives, our decision-making.” (Charter of Feminist Principles for African Feminists)

“Difference must be centered as a site of resistance.” (Alarcón)

“...the absence of Caliban’s woman as Caliban’s sexual reproductive mate functions to ontologically negate their progeny/population group, forcing this group to serve as the allegorical incarnation of ‘pure sensory nature’” (Wynter 362)

During this semester, I – for the first time since becoming a Yale student – refused to take a camera photo. I did zero gigs, I renounced my lead photographer roles in student organizations, and created no photo pieces for myself. I wanted to give myself time to recover from the burnout I had previously suffered, as I knew I would want to make a strong return come spring time.
The photo series I aspire to make is centered around my hometown of Atkinson, New Hampshire. According to census data, the town has a black population of 0.00%. This has been a place I have lived in for almost my whole life, and yet, on this formal government document, I am null. I do not exist. Of course, this is a bit hyperbolic. But I have not met a single other black person in my 17 years of Atkinson living and don’t like my chances of meeting one in the next year I will leave there before I move out on my own.
As I only have a year left, I want to think about the legacy and memory I will leave on this town. When I went to register to vote for the first time this summer, I was helped by a lovely lady who, before I could walk out the door, cheerfully exclaimed “and welcome to Atkinson!” Others who had walked through the town hall building were met with familiar smiles and colloqialisms, as the population is only about 7,000 people. Whereas for me, I had never met any of these people before. Something like my 7,000th day in the town seemed like my first.
I want to think about how others in Atkinson percieve and interact with me – whether it me riding my bike around the neighborhood to pick up mail from the gazebo as I wave to cars driving back from work or the bits of small talk I have with neighbors as I sit in the passenger seat of my dad’s car before driving of to school. I then want to take these scenes and layer asterisks on top of them – just like how I’ve done in this painting on the left. My experience and reflections on this town cannot be separated from the fact that I am one of one in this town – in fact, I might as well be one of none.
This painting I have named for the time being as “Olde Common” serves as the compositional inspiration for what I hope to create soon. It is one of the things I am most proud of during this semester. For months I was telling friends and anyone else willing to hear my complaints that “Painting Basics” was the bane of my existence and a grave mistake. But I was able to create something really striking and jumpstart a photo project I am now fully prepared to seek my teeth into. This is just the start.