Nicole Cardoza Nicole Cardoza Nicole Cardoza Nicole Cardoza

Demand the repatriation of human remains.

Last week, Abdul-Aliy Muhammad published an article in The Philadelphia Inquirer outlining some disturbing news: Penn Museum and Princeton University has been holding the remains of two children killed in the MOVE bombing of 1985 hostage for 36 years – without the consent or consideration of their family.

Happy Thursday and welcome back to the Anti-Racism Daily! Today's story still haunts me since I first read it last week. But it's a dialogue we must continue to have – not just for the remains of our ancestors long gone, but establishing a precedent for the sanctity of our remains today and in the future. The desecration of our remains after death mirror the same violence we experience as marginalized communities in life.

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By Nicole Cardoza (she/her)

Last week, Abdul-Aliy Muhammad published an article in The Philadelphia Inquirer outlining some disturbing news: Penn Museum and Princeton University has been holding the remains of two children killed in the MOVE bombing of 1985 hostage for 36 years – without the consent or consideration of their family.

The MOVE bombing occurred in 1985 when the Philadelphia Police Department bombed a residential home belonging to a member of MOVE, a Black radical group. The attack started with an armed standoff, where police officers spent over ten thousand rounds of ammunition. When the residents did not exit the home, police dropped a bomb on the premises. The resulting fire killed six MOVE members and five of their children and destroyed 65 houses in the neighborhood - fires that were left to spread intentionally by law enforcement (Blackpast).

The sheer lack of respect for the victims of this bombing was evident 36 years ago. Abdul-Aliy Muhammad notes that many of the bodies decomposed in a city morgue for six months after the incident, instead of being returned to family members. And Penn Museum and Princeton University are both guilty of the same carelessness and lack of accountability. The remains that passed between the two institutions are of Tree Africa and Delisha Africa, who were 14 and 13 years old, respectively, when they died. These remains were even featured in a Princeton University’s online course, where a professor can be seen handling and examining a badly burned femur and pelvic bone. 

In a public press conference held by the victims’ families, the pain and heartbreak that they’ve experienced is visceral. They discuss not just the state-sanctioned violence they’ve experienced since the bombing in 1985, but the horror of learning about their remains.

Those remains are not my sister, Tree Tree. My sister Tree Tree was flesh and blood. I’ll never have her back...They can’t give me back my sisters, my brothers. They can’t repair what they have done. There are no demands that they can meet to rectify this situation. Nothing.

Janine Africa, at the MOVE Family Press Conference

This wasn’t even the first time that Penn has been careless with remains. In 2020, the museum announced that it would remove its Morton Cranial Collection from view (Penn Museum). The collection included hundreds of skulls, many proven to be from enslaved Africans, Native Americans, and Cubans (The Daily Pennsylvanian). The skulls were collected by Samuel George Morton, a 19th-century, University of Pennsylvania-educated man who believed in the pseudoscience of phrenology – that some races are inferior to others based on the size of their brains (Hyperallergic). Phrenology is not just scientifically inaccurate. It offered a “scientific” rationale for the systemic oppression of people from marginalized races and ethnicities (Vassar) and laid the foundation for 20th-century eugenics. 

Advocates demand that Penn Museum begin the process of repatriation of all its contents. Although a committee has been created, these steps have yet to be taken as of April 2021 (Penn Museum). But when you read much of the press surrounding the latest allegations, many articles center their apology and intentions rather than the demands of the family harmed.

These issues aren’t unique to Penn, though. Museums worldwide hold human remains, including skulls, skeletons, bone fragments, and even preserved heads – both on display and in storage. The practice is rooted in colonization; throughout the 19th century, European settlers would “collect” body parts of non-European communities, either as keepsakes or for “scientific purposes,” akin to the phrenological purposes noted above. These remains were often taken forcefully, without consent, and disregarding the cultural and spiritual practices of honoring the remains of the dead. The Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa estimates that the preserved tattooed heads of at least 600 known Māori and Moriori ancestors are located in European museums. Over the past decade, they’ve been able to repatriate at least 500 other remains back – a time-intensive and costly process that the source communities are responsible for (Artnet).

Although museums in the U.S. have human remains of Indigenous communities from around the world, they hold far more remains of Indigenous communities who stewarded the lands now referred to as North America. They also host remains of enslaved African American people. Earlier this year, Harvard University announced that amidst its collection of 22,000 human remains, at least 15 were the remains of enslaved African people. They issued an apology and committed to creating a committee for properly addressing these remains (Harvard). The Smithsonian Institution houses the nation’s most extensive collection of human remains, many of which are located at the National Museum of Natural History. They, too, are expected to make a statement on their role of holding African American remains (NYTimes).

Although repatriation is a clear path to address these wrongdoings, it’s not straightforward for African American remains. Many remains were collected without information about where they came from and who those people were. In addition, it can be challenging to trace lineage to present-day descendants. Beyond that – where do the remains belong? Laid to rest here in the United States or sent back to their country of origin? And who has the power to make that decision if no descendants can be identified? But practices can follow the process of The Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act. Enacted in 1990, the law requires institutions that receive federal funding to consult with the Indigenous communities where the remains are from to repatriate them publicly (NPS).  No similar law exists for African American enslaved people – yet.

But there is a clear and direct way to address the harm inflicted on the Africa family. Today, take a moment to complete the action items above. And, more broadly, stay engaged in the unfolding conversations on remains housed in public institutions. Notice how artifacts were gathered and whether or not they’re displayed in partnership with the Indigenous communities they represent. And rally for the repatriation of those remains whenever called for by their families.


Key Takeaways


  • Penn Museum and Princeton University has been holding the remains of two children killed in the MOVE bombing of 1985 hostage for 36 years – without the consent or consideration of their family.

  • Across the world, museums hold the remains of marginalized communities, often without the consent or consideration of the communities they come from.

  • Public institutions deserve to be held responsible for the harm they inflict with storing and/or displaying the remains of people without consent.


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Mary-Hannah Oteju Nicole Cardoza Mary-Hannah Oteju Nicole Cardoza

Acknowledge whiteness in classical art.

Historically, whiteness has been hailed as the standard in beauty, art, and culture. In contrast, typically antithetical features (like deeper skin tones, coily/kinky hair, or wider/fuller facial features or body types) have been deemed inferior and thus unbeautiful. This can often mean interpretations of classical art that are based on preconceived notions of anti-Blackness. An example of this is the 2004 book cover from Benjamin Issaac’s The Invention of Racism in Classical Antiquity from Princeton University Press. The modern depiction of this 510 BC Greek painting of Herakles ad Bousiris plays to anti-Black imagery of the naked Black male offset by his clothed white counterparts as violent, savage, and animalistic. But it does not acknowledge the more sophisticated approach to race that is present in the original painting, showing a myriad of complexions that are more representative of ancient Egyptian civilization (Getty).

It's Sunday, and we're back! Today we're joined by Mary-Hannah, a new writer at the Anti-Racism Daily, who's unpacking how our relationship to whiteness is influenced by classical art. I learned a ton through reading and editing this piece, and I hope you will, too.

And thank you all for your support! Because of you, we can offer this newsletter free of charge and also pay our staff of writers and editors. Join in by making a one-time gift on our website or PayPal, or subscribe for $7/month on Patreon. You can also Venmo (@nicoleacardoza). To subscribe, go to antiracismdaily.com.

Nicole


TAKE ACTION


Follow platforms like A Black History of Art (@ablackhistoryofart)  that provide a more representative view of world art history.

  • Reflect: the next time you come across a historical narrative that praises European and/or Western progression, ask yourself these questions:

    • Who are the ‘heroes’ of the story? Does this chronicle uphold whiteness as the standard?

    • Where do Black and Brown people fit into the narrative?

    • How would I/do I feel when history diminishes the presence and contributions of people who look like me?

  • Consider how you react to Black and Brown cultural identities and expression. Identify unconscious biases you may hold about who or what is “ideal.”


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By Mary-Hannah Oteju (she/her)


One is White as one is rich, as one is beautiful, as one is intelligent.
Frantz Fanon

Historically, whiteness has been hailed as the standard in beauty, art, and culture. In contrast, typically antithetical features (like deeper skin tones, coily/kinky hair, or wider/fuller facial features or body types) have been deemed inferior and thus unbeautiful. This can often mean interpretations of classical art that are based on preconceived notions of anti-Blackness. An example of this is the 2004 book cover from Benjamin Issaac’s The Invention of Racism in Classical Antiquity from Princeton University Press. The modern depiction of this 510 BC Greek painting of Herakles ad Bousiris plays to anti-Black imagery of the naked Black male offset by his clothed white counterparts as violent, savage, and animalistic. But it does not acknowledge the more sophisticated approach to race that is present in the original painting, showing a myriad of complexions that are more representative of ancient Egyptian civilization (Getty).

We see continue to see this racial exclusion in TV romance dramas like Love Island (Popsugar), in the beauty and modeling world (Vogue), and even in academia. This impacts how we understand Black and Brown identities in these spheres, and results in people who aren’t white (or white-passing) receiving fewer opportunities and less representation in the media.

Recently, news anchor and reporter Tashara Parker from WFAA-TV in Dallas went viral for her natural updo (Today). Though many applauded her for celebrating her Black hair and Blackness, the image posted of her online sparked some debate about professionalism in the workspace. Often whiteness and its associated features are considered the most professional in the working world. This often leaves Black and Brown people in liminal spaces while navigating the web of their racial identities and workplace expectations (Byrdie). 

Upholding whiteness as the standard is not a phenomenon that was formed from thin air. The exaltation of whiteness in media, art, and culture stems back to the Renaissance period. During this era, many artists fascinated with the earlier Greco-Roman period began to recreate those statues, opting for white marble to reflect what they understood to be the “classical” artistic technique. However,  those Greco-Roman marble sculptures, such as the famous statue of Caesar Augustus from 1 AD, were originally vibrantly painted and adorned with intricate patterns and shapes. But over the centuries, these pigments faded, leading Renaissance artists to believe that they had originally been white (Vox). In the 18th century, influential art historians such as Johann Joachim Winckelmann began praising the “pristine whiteness” of these marble statues as the classical archetype (Hyperallergic). 

It was from works like these that Eurocentrism and whiteness began to pervade conceptions of beauty. Color was equated to barbarism, in terms of race due to the ongoing transatlantic slave trade and also artistic pigment. Recently, using new technology, art historians have been able to identify that these statues were originally painted in color (Gizmodo). While this recent revelation does not make these ancient sculptures distinctively pro-Black/Brown, they do work to change not only how we understand the use of color in the classical world but challenges how we view color and even race today.

Continuing to hail whiteness as the ideal leaves no room for other racial and ethnic identities to flourish in the modern world. In the academic sphere, the ongoing battle of “decolonizing” the curriculum (The Guardian) in world-renowned universities like Oxford and Cambridge demonstrates that there are still overwhelming systematic biases that continually stifle color and diversity in contemporary intellectualism. 

In the US, the number of non-white professors is significantly lower than non-white students in higher education. Data from 2017 says that 76 percent of all college and university faculty members were white, compared to 55 percent of undergraduates (Inside Higher Ed). While there has been substantial growth in racial diversity amongst the student population within the last two decades, the world of professional academia is still very racially exclusive. (For more on racism in academia, check out our previous newsletter.)

As a student of modern and medieval history and language, I’ve experienced first hand how historical narratives continue to exclude the contributions and discoveries of Black and Brown people for the simple reason that they aren’t white. For example, the impressive Nok sculptures from ancient southern West Africa are one example of Black artistry in classical world art. Some of these archaeological discoveries of the Nok peoples date back to as early as 1500 BC and are crucial in understanding early ancient civilizations. (ThoughtCo

Similarly, bronze sculptures from c. 850 AD South India that depict Hindu deities can be crucial in analyzing the evolution of religious art history. They are also important in understanding early Indian art history in a wider cultural-historical context. However, because these are ancient Black and Brown art sculptures that do not showcase white civilization, they have not been afforded the same treatment when it comes to understanding classical world art history. Ignoring the historical prevalence of Black and Brown early civilizations and their art not only whitewashes classical world history but leaves minimal space to appreciate Black and Brown cultures as key to global history today. 

The pervasiveness of whiteness as a societal paradigm means that Black and Brown people continually fight to legitimize our perspective. It is not enough for us to just be-- we are continually obliged to assimilate in outward expression and internal thought if we want to succeed.

Initiatives like the CROWN Act and other anti-discriminatory policies are the first steps in making diversity the standard. They put pressure on organizations and businesses to assess how they treat and view Black and Brown people, including women like Tashara Parker, and their cultural identities. While anti-discrimination laws will never be the panacea that a world plagued by inequality needs (World of Labor), they take a necessary step in identifying and denouncing discriminatory practices.

When whiteness is no longer upheld as the standard, cultural and ethnic diversity can truly be celebrated instead of simply being add-ons in one-week diversity panels and boards. The realities of being Black or Brown in America will no longer be a set of hurdles to overcome, but rather a mosaic of experiences and cultures to be celebrated and explored. A society that no longer deifies whiteness is a society in which beauty, art, and culture can be accepted in all shades.

1_Q6KmmJSZg4tddUF_cYEh9w@2x.jpeg

Mary-Hannah Oteju is a junior at Cambridge University studying Modern and Medieval Languages. She is of British-Nigerian heritage but a metro-Atlanta native and is interested in exploring global concepts of Blackness throughout history within gendered and religious contexts. 


KEY TAKEAWAYS


  • History isn’t objective. Often Black and Brown people are left out of historical narratives that have shaped how we view and understand the modern world.

  • Greco-Roman sculptures were often brightly painted but lost their color over hundreds of years. Their colorless appearance centuries later upheld a standard of whiteness that was inaccurate.

  • As a societal ideal, glorifying whiteness creates no room for Black and Brown people and their cultural expressions, which delegitimizes their positions in countless ways.

  • Rejecting whiteness through policy and legislature is just the first step in creating room for non-performative diversity and inclusion for Black and Brown people.


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Ebony Bellamy Nicole Cardoza Ebony Bellamy Nicole Cardoza

Tell museums to replace stolen artifacts.

It's Friday! Last week's newsletter on art generated a lot of discussion. Ebony continued her research to unpack how the art industry is reckoning with its history of colonialism. Her newsletter today unpacks why many museums are sending artifacts back to their home countries. It's a good reminder that in order to do this work, we must change our actions moving forward while acknowledging and repairing the past, as best we can. 

Tomorrow is Study Hall, where we reflect on the key topics from this week and any questions from the community. Share your questions and insights by replying to this email, and I'll do my best to answer them!

As always, your contributions are so appreciated! You can give on our websitePayPal, or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or subscribe monthly on our Patreon.

Nicole


TAKE ACTION


The next time you visit a museum (even virtually), do the following:

  • Research how artifacts on display were brought to the museum

  • Look for stories of that museum participating in repatriation

  • Ask: How does the museum verify how objects from collectors and dealers are obtained?

 

Consider how your desire to support museums contributes to stolen artifacts being on display.


GET EDUCATED


By Ebony Bellamy

In 2013, the Metropolitan Museum of Art made headlines after announcing plans to return two statues to Cambodia. This announcement came after Cambodian officials were able to prove the two 10th-century Khmer statues, which were donated to the museum as separate gifts between 1987 and 1992, were smuggled out of a remote jungle temple around the time of the country’s civil war in the 1970s (New York Times). 

This isn’t the first time a museum has been accused of acquiring stolen artifacts. The most notable is the British Museum, which displays various well-known artifacts from marginalized communities. The British Museum, along with museums in the UK, Germany, Austria, and the US, have bronze sculptures on display that were stolen in 1897 after British troops invaded the Kingdom of Benin, which is now southwestern Nigeria (History.com). 

Nigeria has repeatedly asked the UK to return the sculptures, and in 2018 the two countries agreed to a deal that required the British Museum to send a few sculptures to Nigeria for the Royal Museum they plan to open in 2021 (History.com). However, the British Museum claims the bronze sculptures are on loan and expect Nigeria to return them. 

In a 2007 United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) forum, they found that between 90% to 95% of sub-Saharan cultural artifacts are housed outside Africa (NPR). Many, like the bronze sculptures from Nigeria, were taken during the colonial period and now reside in museums across Europe and the US. 

The British Museum is notorious for refusing to return artifacts to their country of origin. In 2016, Australia asked for the Gwaegal shield to be repatriated, which is the process of returning something or someone to their country of origin (Merriam-Webster). The shield was stolen from Australian Aboriginal people in the late 18th century by the British (History.com). Instead of returning the shield, the British Museum let Australia borrow it with the expectation that it will be returned to them, which it was. And the list of stolen artifacts the British Museum refuses to give back is long and includes Egypt’s Rosetta Stone, Easter Island’s Hoa Hakananai’a statue, and Greece’s Parthenon marbles (History.com).

Despite us knowing the origins of these famous artifacts, it’s extremely difficult to pinpoint the provenance of most items because once they’re removed from their original home, they’re sold to private collectors who sell them to museums and claim the items were legally acquired (The Verge). The Archaeological Institute of America estimates that roughly 85 to 90 percent of classical and various other types of artifacts don’t have a documented place of origin (The Verge).

This makes it extremely difficult to determine which artifacts should be considered for repatriation because there is no specific way to decide whether or not an artifact was stolen or acquired legally. To deal with this, the UN created the 1970 convention, which was designed to end the export of stolen artifacts and allow countries to file repatriation claims and pay to have their items returned to them. But, a 2012 UN report showed that the 1970 convention had “serious weakness,” such as a lack of staff and limited international laws to support its mission (The Verge). So, the UN committee was created and it has presided over six successful restitution cases in the last 40 years (The Verge). 

UNESCO and Interpol have also been helping maintain watch lists for artifacts that are reported stolen (The Verge). But, despite all their efforts, when it comes to American museums, repatriation occurs on a case-by-case basis, normally when foreign governments provide museum officials with solid evidence that an artifact was stolen (The Verge). 

As a result, there’s no adequate way to keep track of how many repatriation claims have been filed over the years. Within the US alone, both the Association of Art Museum Directors (AAMD) and the American Alliance of Museums (AAM) admitted they don’t keep records of repatriation claims and returns (The Verge). Despite the lack of records, museums are still actively returning stolen artifacts to their countries of origin. 

Last year, the Metropolitan Museum of Art returned a stolen 2,100-year-old coffin to Egypt after officials discovered it was looted and smuggled from the country in 2011 (BBC News). In 2010, the Brooklyn Museum parted ways with 4,500 pre-Columbian artifacts that were stolen a century ago. They offered these pieces to the National Museum of Costa Rica for $59,000 because the Brooklyn Museum’s closets were “overstuffed with items acquired during an era when it aimed to become the biggest museum in the world” (New York Times).

In 2018, French President Emmanuel Macron announced that 26 bronze artifacts, which were “looted during General Dodd’s bloody siege on the Béhanzin palace in 1892,” will be returned to the country of Benin (artnet News). This a part of a five-year plan to “enact a permanent restitution agenda for all art taken ‘without consent’ from Africa during the colonial era” (artnet News). This means that all museums in France will have to return all or most of their African artifacts. 

To implement Macron’s vision, a study was performed, which recommended: “the restitution of any objects taken by force or presumed to be acquired through inequitable conditions by the army, scientific explorers or administrators during the French colonial period in Africa, which lasted from the late 19th century until 1960” (The Guardian). Once this was released, museums across Europe raced to develop new policies on restitution and repatriation, so they wouldn’t have to forfeit artifacts they’ve had at their museums for years (The Guardian). 

This response shows museums’ blatant disregard for the history they’re trying so hard to preserve. Yes, these artifacts are valuable pieces of history that should be available for everyone to see. But, they should also be accessible to the nations and countries they were stolen from. Those places deserve to have ownership of essential pieces of their heritage and culture. They didn’t ask to have their history stolen or their people enslaved and murdered. 

So, we as a society, we should acknowledge our theft of artifacts and culture and work to make marginalized communities and countries feel seen and appreciated. 


key takeaways


  • Repatriation is the process of identifying a stolen artifact and returning it to its country of origin.

  • It’s difficult to pinpoint the provenance of an artifact because private collectors can claim the items were legally acquired with forged documents.

  • The 1970 convention, UN committee, Interpol, and UNESCO help prevent the export of stolen artifacts and allow countries to file repatriation claims.

  • In American museums, repatriation occurs on a case-by-case basis, normally when foreign governments provide museum officials with solid evidence that an artifact was stolen.


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Thank you for all your financial contributions! If you haven't already, consider making a monthly donation to this work. These funds will help me operationalize this work for greatest impact.

Subscribe on Patreon Give one-time on PayPal | Venmo @nicoleacardoza

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