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"They don't know we are becoming powerful. Every time we kiss we confirm the new world coming."      --from the poem American Wedding

Appropriate to Pride Month, today let us look at the impressive body of work of Essex Hemphill, poet, writer, and social advocate. Born in 1957 Chicago but raised in S.E. Washington, D.C. (in his words, "in poverty so deep I don't even want to remember it"), Hemphill dove into poetry as a creative outlet in his early teens. He originally attended the University of Maryland to pursue a degree in journalism but pivoted to English at the University of the District of Columbia (UDC); by that time he was already publishing (publishing his own chapbooks whilst working at a local print shop), and delivering spoken-word presentations throughout the D.C. art and literary scene. Over time he also performed at Harvard, University of Pennsylvania, and UCLA.

Hemphill quickly became a fixture in local poetry and literary circles, as well as becoming an eloquent voice in the D.C. gay community; he came out in 1980 during a poetry reading at Howard University. His poems and performances ranged all over: covering exclusion, fetish, love, sex, heartbreak, and (particularly) loneliness. Never one to shy away from controversial or upsetting topics, over the years he wrote pointed essays critical of the government's slow-walked response to the AIDS epidemic, religious homophobia, photographer Robert Mappelthorpe's hyper-sexualized images of black men and the then-sordid "red light district" of 14th Street, N.W. Among Hemphill's publications were Earth Life in 1985, and Conditions in 1986. Also in 1986 his work appeared in Joseph Beam's seminal In the Life: A Black Gay Anthology, which unapologetically centered Black gay, lesbian, and trans perspectives. Beam himself died of AIDS in 1988; in his memory Hemphill would publish a follow-up: Brother to Brother: New Writings by Black Gay Men.

Hemphill's work was very much autobiographical in nature; an intersection of his own identities and enthusiastic collaborations with many other artists, writers, and even filmmakers. One such project in 1989 saw Hemphill working with director Isaac Julien on Looking for Langston, arguably one of the first films to assertively depict Black gay desire in a once-thought-untouchable historic context: the Harlem Renaissance. The film challenged convention by depicting Hughes as being openly and comfortably homosexual; Hughes's estate refused permission for the use of Hughes's work and likeness in Looking for Langston. Another anecdote recalls the D.C. Commission for the Arts having asked Hemphill to remove the words "corruption" and "muthufucka" from a planned recitation of his poem Family Jewels at the 1987 Mayor's Arts Awards. Hemphill and his then-partner, musician Wayson Jones, at first agreed... then they went ahead and performed the poem in its entirety, uncensored.

"Some of us bake wonderfully, write, paint, do any number of things, have facilities with numbers that others don't have. Those are your blessings. Some of us are very strong and candid and some of us are nurturers or combinations of all of those things. Just be aware of what your particular things are and nurture them and use them toward a positive way of living."      --Hemphill, on being asked the meaning of his signature phrase "Take Care of Your Blessings."

Not part of the ongoing trading card study/series; I just felt like drawing a picture of Barack Obama today, and sharing it with you. Colored pencil and watercolor with some pen and ink, 2.5" x 3.5".

Over the years this trading card series has touched upon the lives and accomplishments of several individuals who were present for the Stonewall Uprising in 1969. Today we honor another, the Rev. Magora Elmira Kennedy (neé Molineaux). A lifelong New Yorker, Magora was born in 1938 and raised by a white father and a Black (Caribbean) mother, in strict Baptist and Methodist traditions. However she realized her own sexuality fairly early on, but was outed by her mother and threatened with conversion therapy. Rather than jeopardize herself, she forged her own baptismal certificate and lied about her age so as to enlist in the U.S. Air Force (she was 14). Unfortunately her mother went to the effort of hiring private detectives to locate her and bring her back, and forced her to marry an abusive man 21 years her senior, in an attempt to "cure" her homosexuality (remember, this was in the early 1950's).

For obvious reasons (and fortunately) this marriage failed pretty quickly --three months, to be exact. Magora did later remarry Eugene Kennedy (an old friend who was himself bisexual and a far much more sympathetic person and ally), and they in fact had five children, but this was only the beginning of her journey. Working as an entertainer throughout the rest of the 1950's and into the 1960's, she pivoted to a spiritual calling. Unable to complete her degree at New York Theological Seminary due to her frank admission to being a lesbian, Magora was ultimately ordained by the Baptist Association Board and served as a minister of the Universal Life Church. Later Rev. Kennedy would launch her own ministry, Revolutions Now --a temple where spirituality and queerness would not be diametrically opposed concepts, and where no-one ever had to "pray the gay away."

She threw herself wholeheartedly into the Civil Rights movement: she marched with Dr. King, protested in Selma, joined the Black Panthers Party, and by way of her connections at the Holy Cross Church of God in Boston, she also became a member of the Boston Black Action Committee. A fierce advocate for LGBTQ+ rights, she also protected the still-closeted members of her church and community. Perhaps most famously, very late in the evening on June 27, 1969, she was driving several closeted friends and colleagues to Provincetown, Mass. (then, as now, a queer safe haven). But enroute on the news, she heard about what was unfolding at the Stonewall Inn, and promptly paid for a cab to safely carry her passengers the rest of the way to P-Town --she herself knew she had to turn around and make straight for Greenwich Village. Magora also made darned sure she was at Boston's very first Pride March in 1971.

There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep, and the rivers dream. People made of smoke, and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice. And somewhere else, the tea is getting cold.

Come on Ace. We've got work to do.

Happy Pride Month everyone, and incidentally today we also enter Year #7 of this ongoing project. Therefore triply appropriate to today, we look at the remarkable life of another comic book artist and illustrator: Clarence Matthew Baker.

Born in 1921 North Carolina, Baker later moved with his family to Pittsburgh; where he graduated high school in 1940. While most men of his age and station would have been drafted into service during World War II, a heart condition prevented this and he began studying art at the famed Cooper Union in New York. In 1944 Baker's work came to the attention of comic book publisher/packager Eisner & Iger, whose executives were reportedly so impressed with Baker's minimal portfolio that they hired him on the spot. Baker's style is considered the standard-bearer of what became known as "Good Girl Art;" a pulp style that lends itself to clean lines and a dynamic elegance --particularly when it came to depicting glamorous femme fatale leading ladies. This illustrative style would later be mimicked/homaged by modern-day artists such as Dave Stevens, creator of The Rocketeer.

In that vein, Baker's work quickly elevated from ad hoc background artist to leading penciller and inker, on well-known titles such as Phantom Lady, Sky Girl, Tiger Girl, and particularly the very popular Sheena, Queen Of The Jungle. At a time when racial segregation starkly defined American life (and the comics industry was certainly no exception to this), Baker was nevertheless quietly defying convention by laying out --and eventually defining-- an artistic style all his own. Perhaps his most significant contribution to the art form was in illustrating the then-described "picture novel" It Rhymes With Lust, a 126-page detective thriller that is today regarded as the earliest known example of a full-length graphic novel.

This last title brought its own controversy; notorious moral crusader and faux-psychologist Frederic Wertham brandished It Rhymes With Lust as one of his principal outrage-producers when he testified in Congress about the Evils Of Comic Books and their contribution to the so-called "epidemic" of juvenile delinquency, which led to the much-maligned Comics Code Authority. In 1945 Baker kicked off his own jungle adventure series for Crown Comics, Voodah. Such obvious Edgar Rice Burroughs imitations were innumerable in those years, but Voodah was unique in that the lead character was Black and did not fit the established stereotypes. Fearing consumer backlash after the character's first appearance, Crown's publishers insisted --for the covers, at least-- that the lead character's skin be lightened and that his hair be drawn longer and more flowing, for subsequent serials. This series ran for 15 more issues.

Closeted, Baker nonetheless carried on an understated relationship with publisher Archer St. John --eventual founder of St. John Publications, which featured many of Matt's illustrations in its various titles, including the aforementioned It Rhymes With Lust. Baker and St. John traveled together frequently, and in a 2012 interview Matt's brother Fred Robinson stated "They had a very close relationship. I don't know exactly what it was."

As the critical issue of Black representation once again centers itself in the national discourse, I thought it appropriate to take a look at the trajectory of the first-ever Black representative to be elected to the U.S. House of Representatives. Meet Congressman Joseph Hayne Rainey of the 1st district of South Carolina, who served in office from 1870 to 1879.

Born enslaved in 1832, Rainey's also-enslaved father Edward was himself fortunate enough to be "favored" by his owner; to not only be educated but to be able to earn and set aside his own money --in his case, as a barber. By 1840 Edward had earned enough money to be able to purchase his, his wife's and his two sons' freedom. The family then moved to Georgetown, South Carolina, where the Free Black population accounted for some 40 percent of the total population. Joseph followed in his father's footsteps in a career as a barber: a relatively privileged yet no less precarious position, socially. He married Susan Cooper of the West Indies, and fathered three children, and --incredibly-- for a time he himself purchased several slaves of his own (who most likely worked in the same barbershop).

At the outbreak of the Civil War, Joseph was conscripted into the Confederate Army and worked fortifications in nearby Charleston; at one point also serving aboard two different blockade runners as a ship's cook. But in 1862 he and his family managed to escape to Bermuda and resided there for the remainder of the war and its immediate aftermath --in that time Rainey established himself not only as a barber but as a prominent citizen, building an easy rapport with local officials, both Black and white. Bermuda enjoyed a unique status (and considerable profit) during the Civil War as something of a "go-between" for the now-closed Northern and Southern import routes. In 1866 the Raineys moved back to Charleston, South Carolina, and Joseph parleyed his relative wealth and status into a career in politics. In 1868 he was named as a delegate to the state constitutional convention, and in 1870 was elected to the South Carolina Senate.

Later that same year Rainey ran in a special election to fill a vacancy in the U.S. House of Representatives; he won and was seated December 12, 1870. He would be re-elected to Congress for four more terms, ultimately serving until March 3, 1879 --making him the longest-serving Black congressman during all of Reconstruction. During his time in office, he advocated for the passage of the Fourteenth Amendment, the Enforcement Acts, and in particular the Civil Rights Act of 1875. Perhaps most significantly in May of 1874, he became the first-ever Black Congressman to preside over the House as Speaker pro tempore. His last re-election (1876) was hotly contested and marred by growing incidences of voter intimidation and accusations of deliberate undercounting (sound familiar?). As Reconstruction faded out, Federal troops departed the Southern states and open violence against Blacks began to rise; Rep. Rainey competently read the tea leaves and arranged for his family to move to Connecticut well before his last term of office ended.

(Resharing a previous entry in this series; originally posted on 3/27/2023.) On this very date in 1796 in Philadelphia, Oney Judge escaped from her slaveowner: President George Washington. My full entry is at: https://www.petervintonjr.com/blm/lesson123.html

If you are in the Portsmouth/Seacoast area of New Hampshire this coming weekend, please make a point of attending the long-awaited unveiling of the Oney Judge Staines Mural at the Black Heritage Trail of New Hampshire. https://blackheritagetrailnh.org/ona-judge-mural

(There's a reason the "Freedom and Slavery in the Making of a New Nation" outdoor exhibit at 6th and Market Streets in Philadelphia, was torn down and hidden earlier this year --it has since been restored but that doesn't mean there won't be another attempt at vandalism.)

Just a week to go, until the Spring Open Studios at The Art Center & The Loft, in Dover, New Hampshire.

Step inside and experience the creative energy of resident artists as they open their studio doors for a full day of art, inspiration, and connection. Explore two floors filled with original artwork, meet the artists behind the work, and discover something truly special to take home.

Happy Free Comic Book Day everyone. And in honor of this most blessed of holidays, today I want to tell you all about the life's work of Jackie Ormes, creator of the Torchy Brown character, Patty Jo 'n' Ginger, and Candy. These specific characters and their affililated strips may not be familiar to you, but they are in fact the handiwork of America's first-ever published --and first-ever syndicated-- Black cartoonist.

Born in 1911 Pittsburgh, Jackie's parents William Winfield Jackson and Mary Brown Jackson owned a movie theater and a printing business, which almost certainly helped to set the stage. In 1930, after graduating high school, Jackie took a job as a proofreader and art director for the Pittsburgh Courier, during which she also contributed editorials and various freelance pieces. Later Jackie married hotel manager Earl Ormes in 1936 --they had one daughter, Jacqueline, who tragically died at the age of 3.

During her time with the Courier Jackie also began experimenting with cartoons alongside her editorial pieces, and in 1937 she premiered her first regular strip: Torchy Brown in Dixie to Harlem. The lead character, Torchy, was a definite standout --fashionable and intelligent, flying in the face of Black depictions in popular culture. No racist carictatures here --Torchy was a headstrong, glamorous teenager from Mississippi who traveled to Harlem to perform at the Cotton Club, and while the strip was still mostly humour-based, there was a grounding in the real-life day-to-day struggles of Black people.

The strip ended after a full year run, but Jackie soon returned to cartooning; producing Candy, a single-panel "daily gag" cartoon for The Chicago Defender (a newspaper which has been mentioned often in these recent journalism-focused biographies). Ormes wrote other think pieces for the Defender during this time, making observations on civil rights and other sociopolitical issues --usually with generous helpings of satire. Of course there was a downside to this growing popularity: the FBI did open a file on Ormes at some point during the McCarthy Era in its never-ending "communist" witch hunt. In 1942 Ormes returned to the Courier with a new premise: the two sisters Ginger 'n' Patty Jo. This series ran for eleven years and became so popular it led to the creation of a "Patty Jo" doll --the first Black doll based on a comic character, complete with combable hair and a considerable wardrobe (sold separately). It is widely thought that Patty Jo's precocious, thoughtful behind-the-scenes narrative --usually at the expense of her older (but not necessarily wiser) sister Ginger-- was inspired by Jackie's deceased baby daughter. In the 1950s Ormes brought back Torchy for a new series, Torchy in Heartbeats.

Gentlemen, the Guys With Microphones (and their popular YouTube channels and their rural radio stations) are kinda winning the day, here. Their arrogance and their swagger and their braying about being "the real victims here" really resonate with a LOT of people, it seems. At least 62 million, by a recent horrifying count. Buncha 50-year old incels who constantly post lengthy "coaching" screeds about why Real Men(TM) should only date teenage girls (and shouldn't use birth control), are feeling extremely validated. The rape-apologists are creating an absolute din and they're only going to be emboldened to get even louder and more dangerous.

WE have a responsibility to stop this unleashed misogyny. And no, I don't mean grab our always-at-the-ready pitchforks and torches and go administer some righteous mob justice. That's too easy. I mean detecting this incel/abusive behaviour EARLY from our fellow males, and challenging it. Right then and there. Regardless of who he is or his perceived status or if other guys in earshot are cheering him on. THAT's the scarier part, the part of the task that's going to require some actual courage. It's one thing to pile onto an anonymous comment thread that's making fun of some self-declared "alpha" loser with pimples and a MAGA hat. It's quite another to firmly call out that affable co-worker that everyone likes, or Director Bob, or Pastor Jim. Or Athlete Stu or Officer Brett or good old Veteran Mike. Or Landlord Hal. Or CEO Charlie.

But that IS our responsibility. Keep your eyes and ears open and SHUT THAT S**T DOWN. Decisively. A look of disgust and an unmistakable "Dude, did you REALLY just say that? What are you, five?" challenge. Or a clear-as-vodka "Not cool, man. You sound like a freakin' pedo, what's wrong with you?" Or a revolted "Christ, do you talk like that in front of your customers? I'm surprised you still have any." Or just plain "You talk about other people's genitals a LOT, like, a WHOLE lot, do you know that?" Play the 'ol public embarrassment card ...knowing full well it may swiftly reverse-Uno back on your gallant well-intentioned ass and leave you standing alone in a roomful of self-righteously angry dudes whose confidence just got pricked. Actions such as these DO paint a target upon one's back.

And oh yeah, don't expect thanks or praise from any of the women in your life; there's a very good reason most of them have by now cheerfully chosen the bear. (And don't pretend you don't know what I'm referring to, there.) Stop this threat BEFORE it turns into a crime and just accept that as its own reward. Suffocate these predators in their crib, so to speak, even if you're the only one that knows anything was even done. That gushy "How can I EVER repay you?" fictional trope is just that: fiction. (If we MUST invoke fiction, then at the very least be like Doctor Who or Spider-Man: save the day and clear out.)

So to restate the premise: I need to hear from my fellow men, here. The ones the media is falling all over themselves to apologize and pander to for "neglecting" and "marginalizing." All of the women in my orbit have already made their thoughts ABUNDANTLY clear about all of this; they are now taking the next appropriate steps, and they are 100% right to do so. Leave them be; they've enough to deal with. I'm interested to know what YOU are going to do, in your societal role as men, to help in all of this.

Blithely insisting "not ALL men" isn't enough.

Can't imagine why, but manned spaceflight is very much on my mind as of late. I dunno: after nonstop daily assaults of little else but horrifying and cruel headlines, I have apparently latched barnacle-like onto what seems to be the only genuinely uplifting and encouraging news story of 2026, so far. And while we are of course rightly celebrating the literally-out-of-this-world accomplishments of Black astronaut Victor Glover and his equally amazing colleagues Reid Wiseman, Christina Koch, and Jeremy Hansen... there is another name that fails to come up when speaking of Black firsts in space travel, and that is Robert Lawrence, Jr., America's first Black astronaut.

Born in 1935 Chicago, Lawrence earned his degree in chemistry at Bradley University and then enrolled in the ROTC program, ascending to corps commander. He graduated in 1956 and received his commission as a U.S. Air Force lieutenant, and completed his flight training at Malden AFB. Early in his career his aptitude caught the attention of his superiors, and he was assigned as an instructor pilot at Furstenfeldbruck AFB for Germany's Air Force. Later he was transferred to Kirtland AFB in Albuquerque, New Mexico as a research pilot --ultimately accumulating more than 2500 hours' worth of flight time.

For Robert, now at the rank of Major, the truly seismic shift happened shortly after he earned his Ph.D in Chemistry from Ohio State University. On June 30, 1967 he was named as a research pilot to the Manned Orbiting Laboratory (MOL), a joint USAF and the National Reconnaissance Office project. This achievement didn't come without its pitfalls; on one occasion during a press briefing, a reporter snarkily asked if Lawrence "would be expected to sit in the back of the capsule." While the MOL project was ultimately shelved, literally every one of its members were rotated over to the replacement program: the Space Shuttle. Which certainly would have meant that Robert would have found himself amongst the first Shuttle crews.

"Invest in the human soul. Who knows, it might be a diamond in the rough."

We close out Women's History Month celebrating the remarkable life of Mary MacLeod Bethune; president of the National Association of Colored Women (NACW) in 1929, advocate for integration, civil rights advisor to First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt and later to President Truman, and sole Black woman in attendance at the founding conference of the United Nations in 1945. Take in the full scope of her achievements at: https://www.petervintonjr.com/blm/lesson49.html

"I came in, it was accidental. I wasn't aiming to be a news reporter or an anchor. But I became an anchorwoman. I started at the very top. Then I went back to being a secretary and then a news trainee."

One more pioneering journalist whose contributions should not be overlooked during Women's History Month, is Melba Tolliver, the first Black woman to anchor a regularly-scheduled news program on a major television network (in this case, New York's WABC-TV). Born in 1938 Rome, Georgia and raised in Akron, Ohio, Melba originally pursued a career as a nurse but pivoted to a secretarial job at ABC news in 1966. A year later the timing of a strike by the American Federation of Television and Radio, presented an opportunity for Melba to be able to occasionally fill in for anchor Marlene Sanders --who was herself the the first woman to anchor an evening news broadcast for a major network (also ABC).

A Black woman's face being a rarity on network television news at the time, Melba quickly proved her capability and competence in the role and projected an air of competent trustworthiness, even as she was completing her degree in journalism at SUNY Empire State College. In very short order she became a full-time anchor for WABC, a position she would hold for the next ten years --one of her earliest assignments was to cover the funeral of Robert Kennedy, Sr. Not insulated from racial stereotyping, Melba famously ran afoul of television standards in 1971 when she insisted on wearing her hair in a natural afro --disdaining the then-accepted practice of wearing a wig or a scarf-- when covering the White House wedding of Presidential daughter Tricia Nixon. In 1976 she took a job with competing WNBC, at one point becoming one half of television's first all-women co-anchor news team with Pia Lindstrom and Carol Jenkins. She later joined News 12 Long Island but was fired from that role in 1994, at a time when the realities of cable news were forcing the more traditional networks to rethink their entire models.