February 27, 2026
Blog Post by Guest Writer Mary Richards, Associate Professor of English at HACC
A Note on Affinity Months
It is important to acknowledge that while we set aside particular affinity months to honor notable U.S. citizens, their contributions impact us every day. Our accomplishments — and our mistakes — are intertwined: one nation, indivisible. But more pointedly, as Mother Teresa of Calcutta wrote, we all belong to each other, and nothing makes that more of a reality than the arts.
Artist Jacob Lawrence
When you think of art, you might immediately imagine huge canvases of still-life scenes in quiet museums — far removed from everyday life. Jacob Lawrence’s art, however, is far from that. Lawrence depicts lived experiences: family stories, community history, and personal struggle. His work is among the most powerful visual records of 20th-century Black American life.
Jacob Lawrence was born in 1917 in New Jersey to parents who had moved North during the Great Migration of the Industrial Era. Like many families at the time, his childhood was shaped by the instability that is caused by racism. In his teen years, Lawrence moved with his mother to Harlem, New York — a place that would define his life and art.
In the 1930s, Harlem was alive with creativity. Writers, musicians, and artists were reshaping Black culture during what became known as the Harlem Renaissance. For Lawrence, Harlem wasn’t just a neighborhood — it was a classroom. He absorbed stories of resilience, migration, and survival simply by listening to the people around him.
Lawrence didn’t grow up surrounded by expensive art supplies or museum trips. In fact, he first encountered art through after-school programs. What started as something to pass the time quickly became a way for him to make sense of the world.
During his youth and teens, Lawrence studied at community art workshops and later joined the Works Progress Administration (WPA), a New Deal program that employed artists during the Great Depression. Through the WPA, Lawrence found mentorship from influential Black artists like Augusta Savage and Charles Alston. They didn’t just teach technique — they emphasized that Black history and everyday life has always and continues to belong in fine art.
This idea became central to Lawrence’s work. He once said he wasn’t interested in painting things he didn’t know. Instead, he focused on stories that were often ignored by textbooks and museums.
Lawrence’s rise as an artist wasn’t smooth or guaranteed. He faced serious financial hardship throughout his early career, often working with limited materials. Racism in the art world also meant fewer opportunities and constant pressure to justify his place as a serious artist.
Later in life, Lawrence experienced depression and emotional struggles, particularly after serving in the U.S. Coast Guard during World War II. These challenges didn’t disappear just because he became successful. Still, he continued creating, teaching, and telling stories through art — even when it was difficult.
What makes Lawrence’s journey especially powerful is that he never tried to hide struggles, whether those he faced in his own life or those he depicted in his work. Instead, he treated them as part of the human experience worth documenting.
Major Accomplishments: Telling Stories That Last
Lawrence’s breakthrough came in 1941 with The Migration Series, a collection of 60 panels that depict African Americans moving from the abject poverty of the South to the industrial North in search of opportunity. Using bold colors, sharp angles, and simplified figures, the series tells a sweeping historical story through deeply personal moments.
The impact was immediate. At just 24 years old, Lawrence became the first Black artist to have a solo exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) in New York. That achievement alone would secure his place in art history — but he didn’t stop there.
Over the decades, Lawrence continued to create narrative series about figures like Harriet Tubman and Frederick Douglass. He also became a respected educator, teaching for many years at the University of Washington and influencing generations of young artists.
In 1990, he received the National Medal of Arts, one of the highest honors for an American artist.
Jacob Lawrence’s life offers more than an art lesson: His story is about finding purpose despite instability, using creativity as a tool for survival, and insisting that overlooked histories matter.
Lawrence proved that art doesn’t have to come from privilege — it can come from perseverance. By turning everyday struggles into powerful visual narratives, he reshaped American art and made space for voices that had long been ignored.
In a world still grappling with inequality and representation, Jacob Lawrence’s work reminds us that telling your story — especially when it’s hard — is an act of courage.
You can visit 30 panels of Jacob Lawrence’s 60-panel Great Migration series in Washington, D.C. at The Phillips Collection.
February 18, 2026
In honor of Black History Month, the staff of The Copper Quill is excited to share the following author recommendations with you:
Recommendation by Associate Editor Rae Stachowski:
Octavia E. Butler
(1947-2006)
“When I began writing science fiction, when I began reading, heck, I wasn’t in any of this stuff I read. The only black people you found were occasional characters or characters who were so feeble-witted that they couldn’t manage anything, anyway. I wrote myself in, since I’m me and I’m here and I’m writing.”
~Octavia E. Butler
They say if you want to write great literature, you must read great literature. Funny enough, it was a terribly written story that inspired Butler to first pick up the pen. After watching a B-grade science fiction film, she was left with the impression that she could create a much better story. And she would. Her stories are masterful, weaving explorations of race, gender, sex, and politics. Her beliefs aligned with eco-feminism, and she traveled to the Amazon to study its biological diversity and incorporate more factual information into her work.
In 1984, she received the Hugo Award for Best Short Story, making her the first Woman of Color to achieve mainstream recognition in the science fiction genre, and she has since gone on to become one of the first black women and the very first science fiction author to secure a MacArthur Genius Grant. Her pieces are bold and unapologetic, and she has managed to make a significant impact on her genre, while still remaining relevant and accessible. She was a Titan of her craft and a profound influence.
Works Cited
"Octavia E. Butler: Telling My Stories." The Huntington, www.huntington.org/exhibition/octavia-e-butler-telling-my-stories. Accessed 21 Jan. 2026.
Additional Author Recommendations by Rae:
Victor Lavalle
Oyinkan Braithwaite
Tananarive Due
Helen Oyeyemi
Toni Morrison
Bell Hooks
Angela Davis
Recommendation by Faculty Advisor Julie A. Castner Shepard:
John Lewis Steptoe
(September 14, 1950, to August 28, 1989)
John Lewis Steptoe, who was originally from Brooklyn, New York, wrote and illustrated children’s books; his inspiration included both “his own experiences as a single father, showcasing themes of family life and cultural identity,” and folktales, which he retold (Butterworth). Children of the 1980s may remember the episode of the classic PBS kids’ show Reading Rainbow in which LeVar Burton read aloud from Steptoe’s book Mufaro’s Beautiful Daughters. As noted in an article by Susan Butterworth written for EBSCO Knowledge Advantage, Mufaro’s Beautiful Daughters, published in 1987, won the Caldecott Medal, which, according to the American Library Association, “is awarded annually by the Association for Library Service to Children, a division of the American Library Association, to the artist of the most distinguished American picture book for children.” You can experience Steptoe’s talents as a writer and illustrator by clicking here to watch the Reading Rainbow episode featuring the story of Mufaro’s Beautiful Daughters.
December 17, 2025
We invite you to get in the holiday spirit by reading the story below, which comes from The Copper Quill's archives. Originally published during the holiday season of 2021, the piece was written by TCQ advisor Julie Castner Shepard.
If you have a story of your own to share (holiday-themed or otherwise!), we'd love to review it! Feel free to submit your own original writing, artwork, and/or photography on our Submissions page.
The author, TCQ advisor Julie Castner Shepard, decorating Christmas cookies as a child.
Ever since I was little, I have always had a difficult time saying goodbye. Bidding farewell to a person, to a season, to a place—even to Christmas decorations at the end of the holidays—can still prompt tears for me.
As a highly sensitive child, I used to hide the gingerbread cookies I had decorated at our annual holiday baking party amongst the knickknacks on my bedroom shelf. I distinctly remember hiding a carefully iced and daintily decorated unicorn-shaped cookie next to a tiny glass Pegasus figurine because I couldn’t bear to eat the cookie.
The unicorn was one of the special gingerbread cookies our family friend Kim always baked for each of her three children and for my sister and brother and me at these Christmas baking parties. Before we would embark upon decorating trayfuls of cookies in various holiday shapes, Kim would make a ceremony of presenting each of us with our own unique cookie, stating why that particular shape had been chosen for each child. I still remember her saying, “Julie has the unicorn because she reminds us of the importance of dreams and imagination.”
I remember feeling humbled by that description and proud that Kim had chosen it for me. Maybe, then, it wasn’t just the gingerbread unicorn I was keeping safe but also that way of looking at myself. It is a way of seeing myself that I will hold onto always—one to which I will never say goodbye.
October 31, 2025
Happy Halloween! Here at The Copper Quill, we encourage you to celebrate this spooky time of the year by reading a good ghost story and perhaps even writing a scary tale of your own. Maybe you could find inspiration in these photographs Julie Castner Shepard, one of our faculty advisors, took on a ghost tour of Strasburg, Pennsylvania, she went on with her husband and parents this past summer!
It's said that if you look carefully at the decorative stonework of the tower of the Gonder Mansion, Strasburg, PA, you can see hidden faces gazing back at you.
This is the grave of Annie Gonder, who is also known locally as "Laughing Annie." Some believe that, even though Annie was not permitted to live in the Gonder Mansion during her lifetime, she now haunts the home.