Sunday, June 28, 2015
INDEXING THE FREEDMEN'S BUREAU RECORDS
I've now spent most of a day online indexing Freedmen's (sic) Bureau Labor Contracts, Indentures, and Apprenticeship Records, 1865-1872, for their eventual searchability via FamilySearch, a Mormon genealogical service. Last night I very much needed to talk over with Margot the impact this is having on me.
This particular project is far more difficult, for a number of reasons, than the 1940 census indexing push I participated in last year. To begin with, the records are older, images more decayed, paleography more antiquated, though all familiar enough to me after decades of studying primary source documents back to the 1600s. However, there is no "form" being filled in here. Each contract is a handwritten, freely worded entry in a log book, the wording not exactly the same twice, in diverse handwritings. Even the simple main details to be indexed -- date, location, names of contractor and contractee -- often require much poring over and guesswork to be determined.
The non-indexed portions are where the human story lies, drawing me in to read the whole thing. Most of what I indexed was from three counties in Virginia -- Accomack, Dinwiddie, and Danville (an independent city). These regions are diverse from each other, and will be strikingly different from, say, contracts created in Mississippi or Alabama. It is too early for me to suss out these geographic/cultural differences.
Maybe half of the contracts involve a newly freed person who is female, which seems to indicate absolutely everybody in that group had to work to survive. A depressing number of them contract out the labor of children as young as 8 years. There is obviously one quantum leap from emancipation: Families are no longer divided up and sold away from each other. But black children are still not having childhoods.
The wages are impossibly low, subsistence level at best. When it is sharecropping, typically the white landowner is providing only the land (clapped out as it may be), seed, and perhaps a plow and mule or horse for agricultural use only, as well as the right to live in whatever shack was already there. For this they demand, on average, half of all crops produced. If the crop fails, the sharecropper still owes. All planting decisions are under the rigid control of the landowner, and the language spelling this out is both florid and highly authoritarian. ANY resistance to the landowner's dominance will result in the sharecropper being expelled from the land.
This is, as Margot said, serfdom, pure and simple.
But I know that an astoundingly number of these families somehow combine starvation wages and unending labor enough to buy land by a decade later. They donate precious bits of their new land to found schools and churches. They track down and bring back home all family members they can find. They marry and learn to read, they vote in the few years before Reconstruction is sold out by the so-called emancipating North, and they, on their own, keep the South alive as an agricultural player in America.
In these documents, however, a third of them are still listed only by first names. Whether they have not yet chosen surnames (seems to me they would do that even before marrying), or those surnames are deliberately being rejected by the white male record taker, is something to be proved once all these records can be sifted through by those of us whose ancestors they were: African-American history as told by African-Americans.
It hurts, to see this disrespect firsthand. I wish I could make it never have happened. But denial is the addictive comfort of whiteness, and I chose to be a race traitor long ago, to see as much of the truth as I could bear, grieve the barriers to my understanding, and go back for more witnessing. Full humanity demands no less.
Posted by
Maggie Jochild
at
10:42 AM
1 comments
Labels: African-American history, American South. historical research, Freedmen's Bureau Records, personal sharing, slavery
Friday, October 3, 2014
A CRIP'S ANTHEM
Eyedrops and eardrops and squirts up each nostril
Two-puff inhalers and count out today's pills
Bloody one finger for sugar machine
These are a part of my morning routine
Click out the insulin and stick in my tummy
Plan for a brekkers high-protein and yummy
Drain off the Foley and ingest caffeine
These are a part of my morning routine
Then comes clean-up, lots of rolling,
Scoutie watches, licks my toe
I finally am ready to face a new day
Your public awaits, Child of Jo
copyright 2014 Maggie Jochild
Posted by
Maggie Jochild
at
10:13 AM
1 comments
Labels: disability, personal sharing, poetry
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
DYKES AND DOGS CAMPOUT, JULY 1981, SUNOL REGIONAL WILDERNESS, BAY AREA, CALIFORNIA
For a few years during the late 1970's and early 1980's, I organized an annual Dykes and Dogs Campout at the Sunol Regional Wilderness about an hour outside San Francisco. We would occupy some or all of the four campsites along Alameda Creek in this East Bay wilderness area, sharing meals, hikes, swimming, and nightly campfire. One year, by a wild coincidence, the campsite next to ours became occupied by Martha Shelley, her lover and their three children.
This photo is from the campout in July 1981. Not everyone who attended is in the photo. I have identified all the attendees below, along with their relationships and political affiliations at the time. This is a rich cross-section of one political dyke community and friendship network at that moment. The two somewhat overlapping organizations mentioned are Lesbians Against Police Violence and the Pleiades, first incest survivor self-help group in the U.S.
copyright 2014 -- Maggie Jochild
Attendees not in photo:
Holly Wilder (close friend of Maggie's and several others)
Joan Annsfire (lived on Brosnan Street with Julie Twitchell, next door to Maggie and Kathie; member of LAPV)
Julie Twitchell (lived on Brosnan Street with Joan Annsfire, next door to Maggie and Kathie; former member of Henry Street Household)
Marcie Essock (ex of Maggie's; member of LAPV)
Renee Enteen (became Maggie's roommate and briefly her lover later this year)
Shown in photo, left to right:
Standing:
Kathie Bailey (Maggie's roommate at 73 Brosnan, member of LAPV, lovers with Kay Finney)
Travis Smith (member of Pleiades)
Mimi Goodwin (member of LAPV)
Judy Pollock (lovers with Tricia Case)
Tricia Case (lovers with Judy Pollock)
Maggie Jochild (currently single, member of LAPV and Pleiades)
Sim Kallan (roommates with Annie Bell)
Diana Robbins (member of LAPV)
Squatting:
Kata Orndorff (member of LAPV and Pleiades)
Kay Finney (former roommate of Maggie's at 73 Brosnan and in Wimmin's House land collective in Durango, Colorado; lovers with Kathie Bailey and briefly member of LAPV)
Annie / Anne Marie Bell (briefly member of LAPV, roommate with Sim Kallan, briefly lovers with Maggie later this year)
Georgy Culp
Susan Bell (sister to Annie Bell)
Posted by
Maggie Jochild
at
7:47 PM
1 comments
Labels: Bay Area lesbian herstory, LAPV, lesbian herstory, memoir, personal sharing, Pleiades, San Francisco dykes
Sunday, November 23, 2008
WHAT'S UP
(Sunlight and stones on Canadian river bottom; photograph by Paul Nicklen)
So. Here's the scoop. (Part of the scoop.)
I can't pay my rent in ten days. The only reason I'm not evicted yet is because others have paid my rent. And phone bill, and utilities. The only reason I have food for Thanksgiving is because someone else at this blog sent me money to buy groceries. I went almost five days without a solid meal last week. I'm out of most of my medications, and I don't have health insurance. And my good, generous friends are tapped out.
I'm trying to get emergency help, but it's unbelievably complicated. Hard to do when you're hungry and freaked out.
It's so hard to admit all this. I grew up in poverty, and I'm back there again.
I have a job but the hours have been slashed because people aren't going to the hospital if they can possibly help it, aren't seeking medical care that can be postponed (I hear that). I have no family to lean on, no means of leaving my house for assistance. Scary shit.
The most I can manage at the moment, aside from what I'm already doing, is to share this with you. An act of faith, and going against shame. The only way through some things is through it.
Thanks for being here.
Posted by
Maggie Jochild
at
12:34 PM
8
comments
Labels: classism, personal sharing