Richard Allen and the Sacred Music of Black Americans, 1740–1850

This chapter’s central claim is that the notion of freedom, in the context of theology, music, and modernity (1740–1850), is incomplete if it does not address the sacred music of the enslaved people of North America during this period—a population for whom theology, music, and freedom were of enormous personal and social consequence. The central figure in this regard is Richard Allen (1760–1831), who in 1816 founded the African Methodist Episcopal (AME) Church, the first independent black religious denomination in the United States. Allen was born enslaved, in Philadelphia or Delaware, but was able to purchase his freedom in 1783. He had already had a conversion experience in 1777, and once he gained his freedom, he became an itinerant preacher, ultimately settling in Philadelphia, where he preached at St George’s Methodist Church and a variety of venues in the city. In 1794 he led a walkout of black members at St George’s, in protest of racism; and over the course of a number of years he founded Mother Bethel, which would become the original church of the AME. This chapter situates Allen in the development of black sacred music in the US: first, as the publisher of hymnals for his church (two in 1801, and another in 1818); and second, as an important arbitrator between the traditions and performance styles of Protestant hymnody as inherited in the British colonies, and an evolving oral tradition and performance style of black sacred music.

Making Madam C. J. Walker

Chapter 1 presents the early life experiences of Sarah Breedlove and their influences in shaping Madam C. J. Walker’s identity, sense of responsibility to others, and philanthropic giving. Her philanthropy began to form when she was a poor, widowed migrant moving around the South dependent upon a robust philanthropic network of black civil society institutions and black women who cared for her during the most difficult period of her life. The chapter shows how she was socialized into respectability, racial uplift ideology, generosity, and philanthropic giving by a group of St. Louis black churchwomen and clubwomen, whose support and mentoring enabled her to change her life course. In outlining her early membership and involvement with key networks of women, including washerwomen, the African Methodist Episcopal (AME) Church’s Mite Missionary Society, and the Court of Calanthe fraternal order, the chapter demonstrates the formation of Madam Walker’s moral imagination as the foundation for her philanthropic life. It situates Walker within the culture of the AME Church, which immersed her in faith, black history, self-help and racial uplift ideologies, education, activism, and internationalism. In the process, the chapter reveals Walker’s formation of a moral imagination that integrated business and philanthropy, embraced particular causes, and forged diverse means of giving.

Religion, Rights, and the Promises of Reconstruction

This chapter investigates how African American activist-artists adopted new strategies to realize the promises of Reconstruction and partnered often with leaders of the African Methodist Episcopal (AME) Church leadership to accomplish these. Black image producers used their reputations and successes to encourage opportunities for, and exercise newly granted rights to, black people after the Civil War. They funded black education, supported black Reconstruction politicians, and celebrated constitutional amendments; one even attained political office. They crafted images that revealed their investment in the visual culture of John Brown, black Union veterans, and the future of Cuba. Just as these black activist artists backed the AME Church, so the AME Church leadership repeatedly encouraged its readers to collect, reflect upon, and draw inspiration from their images and the messages that they communicated.

Remaking the #Syllabus: Crowdsourcing Resistance Praxis as Critical Public Pedagogy

Between 2014 and 2017, the creation of hashtag syllabi—bricolage iterations of reading lists created by or circulated among educators on Twitter—emerged as a direct response for teaching about three highly publicized incidents of racial violence in the United States. Educators used hashtags as a means of sharing resources with their networks to provide non-normative literatures from marginalized scholars for teaching to transgress in the wake of Mike Brown’s slaying in Ferguson, Missouri; the massacre of nine congregants at Emmanuel AME Church in Charleston, South Carolina; and the fatal car attack on anti-fascist protestors in Charlottesville, Virginia. Acting on Chakravartty et al.’s provocation to center scholars of color in course syllabi as a pedagogical strategy to disrupt the reification of white supremacy in communication and media studies, I consider the creation of three hashtag syllabi related to these events as a form of critical resistance praxis in the emerging framework of digital intersectionality theory. I present a brief textual analysis of the aforementioned syllabi, triangulated with data from online conversations linked to them via their hashtags and derivative works produced by their creators and users to map two social media assisted strategies for doing critical public pedagogy.

AME Church

Organized in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, during the last decade of the 18th century by free African Americans, the African Methodist Episcopal (AME) Church is one of the oldest, centrally organized, Christian communions in the world founded and led by US African descendants. Independent-minded free Blacks chose separate Christian worship rather than suffer discriminating racist restrictions to their chosen worship practices. The entire number of African American members “walked out,” of Philadelphia’s white St. George Methodist Episcopal congregation, including the several women members. Richard Allen is the declared “iconic founder” of the denomination, though an original female member provided space for the earliest organizing meetings of what would become the AME Church. In 1816 the Pennsylvania court authorized the emerging group’s legal social status as a denomination. Earlier, a large congregation of African Americans in Charleston, South Carolina, had joined the evolving AME Church, and the denomination continued to grow and expand for more than 200 years, almost equal the age of the United States of America itself. In the first half of the 19th century, a considerable number of AME congregations served as way-stations for self-liberated enslaved persons on the Underground Railroad, and the Church participated in conversations with and about “African Colonization of Free People of Color.” The denomination declined colonization and kept “African” in its name. During the US Civil War, as the Northern military freed Confederate territories, AME Church leaders were allowed to accept recently freed African descendants into the denomination. This brought into the Church the largest numbers of new members and resources ever seen. Currently, there are some 2,510,000 AME members; 3,817 pastors, and 7,000 congregations, and the denomination has belonged to the World Council of Churches since that body organized in 1948. The AME Church is an integral and essential component of US society and has a presence in nineteen African nations, in many countries of the Caribbean islands, and in the United Kingdom, Canada, and Guyana in South America. For more than two centuries, it has published hymnals, Sunday School literature, newspapers, periodical journals, histories of individuals, places and events, a wide variety of local memorabilia, and much more. The keeping of AME records has continued throughout its history and can serve as a great reservoir for future scholarship.

Three Journeys: One Project

The Bethel Project is about the history of Indianapolis’ oldest black church, archival records, preservation technologies, virtual experiences, and collaboration and co-creation among many different departments, heritage institutions and community members. This paper provides three perspectives on this project from individuals who’ve worked closely together over the past four years. This may seem like a long while to work on one project but for those whose research is community-based it seems about right. Three unique voices will be presented with each telling their own narrative of what she thought when the project started and how her thinking has changed until now. Andrea Copeland is an associate professor in the School of Informatics and Computing whose research focuses specifically on public libraries, community collections, and engagement. Kisha Tandy is the associate curator of social history at the Indiana State Museum who researches African American history and culture. At the center of the project is Olivia McGee Lockhart: Bethel AME Church of Indianapolis’ Keeper of History, Indianapolis native, and an Indianapolis Public Schools educator for nearly four decades.

Complexities of Digital Preservation in a Virtual Reality Environment, the Case of Virtual Bethel

The complexity of preserving virtual reality environments combines the challenges of preserving singular digital objects, the relationships among those objects, and the processes involved in creating those relationships. A case study involving the preservation of the Virtual Bethel environment is presented. This case is active and ongoing. The paper provides a brief history of the Bethel AME Church of Indianapolis and its importance, then describes the unique preservation challenges of the Virtual Bethel project, and finally provides guidance and preservation recommendations for Virtual Bethel, using the National Digital Stewardship Alliance Levels of Preservation. Discussion of limitations of the guidance and recommendations follow.

Risking forgiveness after Charleston

Confronted by the White supremacists who had murdered their loved ones in June 2015, many of the family members of those killed at Mother Immanuel AME Church spoke words of forgiveness. The families’ actions sparked sharp responses. In this essay, I will argue that critical responses misunderstood the practice of Black Christian forgiveness. I claim that Black Christian forgiveness is a practical political response to White supremacist violence, one richly grounded in the principles of personalism, the logic of nonviolence and a unique understanding of the meaning of the Christian gospel as a way to ‘redeem the soul of America’.