Laeticia Jean Baptiste

Hi! I am a graduating senior at Johns Hopkins University, majoring in Natural Sciences with a minor in History and an extensive focus on the theater arts. I have been involved with the Black theater group on campus, The Dunbar Baldwin Hughes Theater Company (DBH), for almost four years. I have worked as an actor, stage manager, stage hand, build crewman, co-producer, and finance chair in that time. My passion for the performing arts and community health are joined in this class and the people I've met have inspired me to continue working within that intersection. Public health topics that have guided me through my project include Community and Population Health, Racism and Health, and Reproductive and Sexual Health.

Project Introduction

My final project for Blackstorytelling is a living biography on Anarcha. She is one of the fifteen enslaved Black women that Dr. Marion J Sims experimented on in the 1840s. These women all had vesicovaginal fistulas after giving birth, holes caused by the blunt pressure of their babies' skulls against their pubic bone resulting in the death of the tissue separating the bladder and vagina. This caused a lot of pain and discomfort, especially for enslaved women who were more prone to this due to the patterns of premature girls giving birth, rickets, and narrow hips. There weren't any methods to cure it until Dr. Sims began his suturing experiments. He successfully closed Anarcha's after four years and over 30 surgeries. But at what cost? When I first heard about this, I was in shock but the more I learned, the more upset I got. For this to be a reality for another human being is unthinkable, yet not surprising when I think of all of the Black women and girls that experience so much trauma at the hands of those who are supposed to care for them. Trauma is stored in the body and the generational trauma that Black women continue to hold at the site of their womanhood is a public health issue. With my project, I connect with Anarcha in an effort to give voice to the abuses she suffers and call attention to the abuses that Black women suffer to this very day.

Reflections

Reflection One

My first visit to the National Great Blacks in Wax Museum was colored by my childhood experiences with black history but they didn’t completely prepare me for what I saw. The exhibits were sharp and drove in the biggest lesson I’ve learned in the United States: that this country was built on the backs of black people and yet, we still aren’t welcome here. The depictions of the transporting of black people across the sea in terrible conditions, punishing them throughout the journey and when they got in, and continuing to torture them even after they were considered “free” were graphic. However, despite the brutality, I have a healthy respect for the work done by the museum, especially when showing how the history of black people did not start or end at slavery. Before we were enslaved, we led countries with great technological advancements. The Africans of Ancient Kemet (Egypt) were the first to produce wax figures. After emancipation and surrounded by hatred, we continued to invent, create, and lead ways to better the lives of the people around us. One of the funniest things about black history month to me is how people use that time to recognize the work of black people in America... and that work is pretty much everything around us. There isn’t a thing you can touch without the certainty that a black person had their hand in producing it. This museum pushes back at the tired narratives that portray black people as perpetual victims of circumstance. I can understand why this is such an important site of knowledge, especially for the youth who are spoon fed narratives that constrain their hopes and dreams.

Reflection Two

My second visit to the National Great Blacks in Wax Museum was even better than the first. I enjoyed being able to see it through the eyes of its founder, Dr. Martin. The vision that her and her husband set was filled with intention. Having Hannibal and his elephant in the lobby was to ease younger children into what they were about to witness. Instead of entering with trepidation, they would be wowed at the big elephant and excited for what else is in the museum. They placed the “watchers” of black history, Carter G. Woodson and W.E.B. Du Bois, at the front to witness what they do with the museum. There’s a profound respect in paying homage to those before and placing our ancestors at the forefront of everything they do. Bessie Coleman used to be at the end of the tour but her plane could not easily be seen so they moved her to the front, where her feats could be better appreciated. Being able to talk to Dr. Martin was also very nice. Working with these important figures often has provided such insight and wisdom that you can hear it in how she speaks about issues that black people face in America and how we respond. I also found that I was noticing more details at this visit than the last one. The first visit was very solemn with the weight of all the history being brought to us for the first time, physically taking up the space around us. This time, the figures felt familiar and I was more interested in the details of who they were than what happened to them or what they did.

My understanding of what public health is has also expanded with this visit. In class, we’ve talked about all of the different determinants of health that don’t directly have anything to do with medicine but speak on the health of a community. Being able to frame that within actual people and how they’ve influenced and been influenced by the health of their community was enlightening. The work done to spread the word about the systemic issues that plague our community is so important. The relationship between black people and the programs that harmed instead of helped is full of distrust and centuries of hate that make it harder for black people to get the care they need. Public health messaging is meant to bridge the gap: supporting black communities where institutions fail and fostering trusting relationships so these communities can get the information they need for their wellbeing.

Reflection Three

This semester, my theatre group, the Dunbar Baldwin Hughes Theatre Company, produced Is God Is, a play by Alashea Harris. Is God Is is a story about adult twin sisters who were estranged from their parents as children after a fire. This fire permanently marked the twins with burns on the outside and deeper wounds on the inside. Racine was the rowdier twin, her scars stretched only so far as her back and neck, leaving her face as pretty as can be. Anaia was the quieter twin, her face “looked like it had melted and froze” and she often fell into the background. The girls go on an expedition to visit their mother, who they thought had died in that same fire, and from there are sent to find and kill their father, who was responsible for the fire after being rebuffed by their mother. In their travels, the girls face the trauma of an event that they barely understood at the time but has haunted them into their adult lives. They also face other people’s traumas, coming across a suicidal lawyer, a runaway wife, and a set of boy twins that remind the girls of what they believe they’re owed.

When thinking of black family structures in America, the effects of slavery and the violence of the colonizers need to be considered. The restructuring of what it means to be a man, women, or child builds on complexes due to what was snatched. It is these issues that create the violent black man, the mad black woman, and the abandoned black child. The characters in Is God Is embody these roles as they seek vengeance on each other for what was taken from them, despite it being this society that failed them. In all, this play feels crazy with a brutality that feels more like fiction, but there is an uncomfortable weight that adds a sense of realness. While not everyone was sent away to a foster home after their father tried to kill their mother, there are many that have dealt with the estrangement of an unstable family, being tossed from both sides as they try to hurt each other. I could spend hours thinking and talking about the nuances of this play and its characters. I feel honored that I had the chance and space to engage with it and hope we did it justice introducing it to our community. As the first and only theatre company on our campus that focuses on black creations, we have a responsibility in evoking a sense of respect that our audience can leave with.

Reflection Four

Today (4/4) we each presented a short bit of what we’re working on. My performance was the beginning of a short play about a girl talking to her mom, who’s getting ready to give birth, about her school’s presentation of Anarcha, whose pain and suffering led to the creation of a suturing technique. I’ve been struggling with how I want to present the stories of Anarcha, Lucy, and Betsey in a way that affords them the respect they deserve while also not reducing them to their plight. While talking to everyone before this presentation about different forms of performance, I got the attitude to consider multiple frames of reference. I didn’t have to tell the story from their own personal perspective. While this is a fairly new idea, I think it can best use all the research I’ve done. My actual performance had some improv but I like the form that it took. While doing my research, I really did feel like a child. Just lost and confused at how all this could happen. How can someone do that to another human being? How can a human being live through that? I would also need to really consider what the mom’s response would be to her daughter’s questions, and also add an intro that will segue into it. My favorite performance was Rachel’s spoken word. While I wouldn’t be able to know who she was talking about if I didn’t already know, I like the imagery that she created with both her tone and words. They brought a character to life for those that never knew him. I would like to incorporate some of that into my own work, especially since Anarcha, Lucy, and Betsey do not have any personal documentation. All I know about them is from secondary and tertiary sources that focused on what happened to them, not what they did.

Reflection Five

Scratch everything from my last reflection. Shortly after I wrote that reflection, we had done a class exercise where we randomly paired up and got interviewed as our characters. I had kept wallowing back and forth as to what I should do for my project out of a hesitance to attempt to speak for these women without any of their own words to go off of. But during the interview, I realized that I knew much more about them than I thought. While I couldn’t speak for their passions and childhood, their pain and hurt is one I could sympathize with. The personal narrative removed the distance I subconsciously created between their pain and myself but that was unnecessary. Being in the lynching exhibit, walking around feeling and hearing the echoes of the pain of my ancestors shifted something in me. On the day of our presentations, when we got to the museum, I walked around the lynching exhibit again, turning Anarcha’s story over and over again in my head. I would pause and look into the eyes of the figures, trying to picture Anarcha standing there next to them… And something clicked.

Rewatching my performance was awkward and kind of scary. Sometimes I worry that what my facial expressions and body language are saying don't match up with the words I speak. But that wasn't a concern that came up while I watched the video. Instead, I felt all the emotions running through me again and was proud that I was able to pay respects to these women.

Research

The Anarcha Project

My introduction to Anarcha was through the Anti-Archives shared by Dr. Jones. The Anti-Archives is the documented work of the Anarcha Project, a collaborative performance project in 2008 that connects to the experience and trauma of Anarcha, Betsey, and Lucy and invites discussion of the intersection of Black history and disability history. This project had five collaborators: Petra Kuppers, a University of Michigan associate professor who wrote the 34-page essay that started it all, "Remembering Anarcha: Objection in the Medical Archive"; Anita Gonzalez, a State University of New York associate professor of the theater arts; Carrie Sandahl, a Florida State University School of Theater associate professor; Tiye Giraud, a vocalist, percussionist, and composer; and Aimee Meredith Cox, an anthropologist, artist, and community activist. The archives that Dr. Kuppers had enlisted with her essay offered little help and used objectivity to distance and desensitize the narratives. The anti-archives seek to do away with that and have readers interact with the site and acknowledge their own responsibility to the material.

The picture above is from a workshop at a parking lot that was the original site of the slave hospital.

Michelle Browder's Monuments

With all the monuments and accolades given to Dr. Sims, it is only natural to wonder where the recognition for the women he abused sits. My search led me to Michelle Browder, a community activist in Montgomery, Alabama who seeks to change how history is presented and consumed. She's created an arts-centered diversion program that's been implemented in juvenile detention centers in Alabama and Georgia, and the I Am More Than Youth Empowerment initiative after leading 56 students to Washington, DC, and setting off their motivation to effect change in their world. Her main project that drew me is the More Than Tours enterprise which exposes the history of Montgomery, Alabama. Last year, she opened the Mothers of Gynecology Park near the site, where three striking monuments of Anarcha, Betsey, and Lucy stand. This past year, she also bought the site where Dr. Sims had his clinic and plans to build a museum and teaching clinic for doulas and midwives. These are just some of her efforts to challenge the state of reproductive health for Black women in the United States.

The picture above is a mural that uses Robert Thom's picture (pictured below) and reverses it with Dr. Sims on the operating table and the women around him.

Visual Inspiration

My experience with the technical side of theater emphasized the importance of the design aspects of performing. To do a living biography needs my focus to be brought to life. I took costume inspiration from the only picture I could find of Anarcha on the Internet. This picture is an illustration by Robert Thom of Dr. Sims (the man in the black coat on the far right), Anarcha (assumed to be the woman in the blue dress kneeling on the table), 2 male attendants, and Betsey and Lucy (assumed to be the two women in the orange and purple dresses peeking behind the curtain. This picture upsets me every time I see it and focus on the details. The resigned apprehension of Anarcha, the curiosity in the women's faces that does not account for the fear they were likely to have felt, and the speculum in his hand soon to be one of the objects of horror in those women's lives.

Audio Inspiration

When turning my letter into a living biography, I struggled with how I wanted to open the performance. I needed a way to introduce Anarcha without it starting off as a lecture. The performances of Mama Janice inspired me to use music to facilitate her story. So I started to look into negro spirituals that were around in the 1800s. There were quite a few to choose from but I also had to consider how easy they were to learn (I am not musically trained) and if the message would be in tune with Anarcha's story. It was a couple hours later on YouTube that I fell upon Louis Armstrong's rendition of "Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Seen" and if I were to title a book about Anarcha, that would be it. And so it was.

Final Project

Presentation

Performance Script

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