Ajuan Mance: Celebrating Black history, resilience, and creativity through art
Ajuan Mance is a writer, illustrator, theorist, historian, and faculty member in CCA’s Illustration program. Mance also teaches courses in the MFA Comics and Critical Ethnic Studies programs. Their recently published books include Living While Black, What Do Brothas Do All Day?, and Gender Studies: The True Adventures of an Accidental Outlaw.
Ajuan Mance, what’s been on your mind?
I spent many years as an English professor and a literary historian. And so my creative process has always been deeply embedded in the things that have changed my experience of being Black in America. Lately, I'm thinking a lot about what kinds of historical stories need to come to light to make room for people who are at the margins, to remind us that we belong here. I’ve been thinking about how art can do that.
In this current moment of political uncertainty, when so many people are wondering what's going to happen next, I’m trying to focus on what we need to feel hopeful and empowered and grounded.
Partly because of my past work as a literary historian, I find it useful to take a long view. I am trying to look back at earlier moments when the rights of many were either in jeopardy or outright denied. I’m attempting to walk in the shoes of people who were living in those moments that weren’t entirely different from our own. How did they find a sense of place and a sense of belonging?
Right now, for example, I'm researching Black women who escaped from slavery between about 1736 and 1776. In the newspapers from that time, there are a surprising number of ads looking for help in locating enslaved Black people who’ve run away. The ads almost always mention the escaped Black woman they are seeking by name. They also provide a description. Sometimes they’ll even describe her interests and any nearby relatives to whom she may have run. One ad noted that the woman who escaped enjoyed dancing. They’ll often describe any scars or injuries as well as their language skills. Some who escaped had just arrived to the U.S. and did not speak English with fluency, for example.
I noticed, however, that in the ads that are selling African American people, they don't mention the enslaved people by name. As soon as they're free, they suddenly have a name and interests and loved ones. It's fascinating. I've read about a hundred of these ads now, and putting them together, they're making a story. So I'm thinking about women who found their freedom more than 200 years ago, and I'm feeling inspired. I'm trying to come up with a way to share that story with younger readers. After my book, What Do Brothas Do All Day? I've had several people ask, What about a book about Black women? I have a couple of ideas that I'm working on that center women and girls of African descent.
The predominant feeling in your work is joy and love, can you tell me about where that comes from?
I am glad that those are the things you see! I strongly relate to Zora Neale Hurston assertion that she refuses to be what she called “tragically Black,” and I’m paraphrasing here. She took so much pleasure in the language, culture, and people of the Black community. These same elements are a source of inspiration for me.
I have a very close friend who's a science fiction writer. I remember her looking at my work many years ago and saying, Well, you really love Black people, don't you? She's African American as well. That planted a little seed in me; it is still what guides me.
When I was working on my series of 1001 portraits of Black men, I was interested in the way that art could serve as an expression of unconditional love and acceptance. I tried to draw my subjects as they were, without judgment and without trying to project my own meanings or needs onto them. My thought was that the people I was meeting and drawing were uplifting enough. They were surviving and thriving and having joy in a society that was kind of not built for them. So, love really is the foundation of my work, with some curiosity, and appreciation thrown in.
My parents loved the arts. They met in the college choir at a small HBCU, at the tail end of the Jim Crow era. They modeled for us what it is to not just be people who raise their children and go to work, but people who have a true love of music, theatre, literature, and art. They took us to museums, to the theater, and to concerts. There's something really freeing about seeing grownups who allowed themselves to nurture and grow their love of the arts. Our house was full of music and books, from encyclopedias to history books to novels and poetry. Black people and Black people's stories were integral to the development of my creative imagination. It was a great gift to be in that environment.
What do you want to tell our students right now?
I want them to know that regardless of what's happening in the world, it is so important for them to continue to pursue their work as artists. We need their voices and their vision, now more than ever.