Tuesday, October 13, 2026

Rhonda Ferguson’s Washington, Then and Now


 By Kenton Rambsy 

In Edward P. Jones’s “The Night Rhonda Ferguson Was Killed,” every stop on the girls’ route around 1960 sat in a majority Black census area, while Georgetown, the place Melanie imagines for Rhonda, was 1 percent Black. By 2020, only Anacostia, which one character associated with rural life, remained majority Black. was still majority Black.


Related: 

Black DC, Then and Now, in Edward P. Jones’s “Rhonda Ferguson”



By Kenton Rambsy

Fictional stories often preserve glimpses of real places and communities that have changed dramatically over time.

In Edward P. Jones’s “The Night Rhonda Ferguson Was Killed,” four Black teenage girls drive from Columbia Heights to Anacostia around 1960 to take a classmate’s father the last of his belongings, then return home to learn that their friend Rhonda, a singer about to sign a record contract, has been killed at home.

Geotagging the places Jones names against census records shows that every stop on the girls’ route sat in a census area at least 70 percent Black, when all of DC was 54 percent. During the ride, Melanie predicts that a famous Rhonda will move to Georgetown to “be with all them white people,” and in 1960 Georgetown was about 1 percent Black.

Cassandra, Rhonda’s best friend, insists that “Rhonda’s gonna stay the same,” and Rhonda never leaves, but the city changes around her. The Black share around Rhonda’s block on 13th Street fell from 86 percent in 1960 to 29 percent by 2020. Only Anacostia, which Anita’s grandfather dismissed as a place where people “still lived with chickens and cows,” held its Black majority, rising from 84 to 90 percent.

Jones’s characters debate whether one girl will leave Black Washington, and the census shows Black Washington shrinking around the blocks they drove.

Related: 

Toni Morrison and the Singular Spotlight: What ProQuest Data Reveals


This slide is from a larger visualization that Kenton and I produced for a presentation on our book One Black Writer at a Time. 

The data here draws on ProQuest dissertations and theses search results from 1990 to 2025, revealing the extraordinary scholarly attention devoted to Toni Morrison’s Beloved compared to other major African American novels. With 4,568 search results, Beloved far surpasses Invisible Man, Native Son, Their Eyes Were Watching God, and The Color Purple. Part of an ongoing series on Toni Morrison and ProQuest findings, this post examines the striking concentration of scholarly attention surrounding Morrison and the implications for understanding the visibility of Black writers.

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Friday, October 9, 2026

The Blues Muse: Race, Gender, and Musical Celebrity in American Poetry by Emily Rutter

About the Book 
Publication: 2018 
Publisher: University of Alabama Press

A critical analysis of the poetic representations and legacies of five landmark blues artists: Gertrude “Ma” Rainey, Bessie Smith, Billie Holiday, Leadbelly, and Robert Johnson.

This post is part of the Books in Brief series, which features concise conversations with scholars about their books in African American literary studies.

1. What inspired you to pursue the lines of research and writing that resulted in this book?
Twenty years ago, Sterling Brown’s “Ma Rainey” inspired me to consider what it meant for a poet to reimagine a live blues performance—a transformative but ultimately ephemeral experience—on the printed page and to fashion one’s poetics to resemble aspects of the blues form. That interest in invocations of blues figures and forms became the subject of my master’s thesis and then my dissertation, both of which focused on poetic representations of blues icons from the Harlem Renaissance through the contemporary era.

2. What surprised you most during your research or writing process?
I initially underestimated just how many blues and jazz poems have been published over the past century. I am very grateful to Sascha Feinstein for cataloging many of those poems in A Bibliographic Guide to Jazz and, with Yusuf Komunyakaa, The Second Set, Vol 2: The Jazz Poetry Anthology. I had far more material, particularly Billie Holiday poems, than I could examine in The Blues Muse.

3. What was the hardest decision you had to make while writing this book?
I worked on The Blues Muse for many years in many different iterations (e.g., master’s thesis, dissertation, chapters that became articles and conference presentations, etc.), and that made it difficult to see the project anew when it came time to structure the book. I had many competing voices of mentors and reviewers in my head pulling me in this or that direction. I finally arrived at a book outline that was reflective of my aims, and that was an important milestone in trusting my own judgment as a researcher and writer.

4. What's one lesson you learned while producing this book that you'll carry into future projects?
There are going to be lots of setbacks (even failures) in the process of writing a book—it’s no small feat to complete a project that has the argumentative heft and breadth of a peer-reviewed monograph. Along the way, a mentor said, if you finish the book, it will get published, and I often still think of that reassuring guidance. One needs perseverance and resilience to complete a book and usher it into the world.

5. If any come to mind, are there books in African American literary studies that you see your work in conversation with?
Angela Y. Davis’s Blues Legacies and Black Feminism: Gertrude "Ma" Rainey, Bessie Smith, and Billie Holiday
Sascha Feinstein’s Jazz Poetry: From the 1920s to the Present
Emily J. Lordi’s Black Resonance: Iconic Women Singers and African American Literature Jennifer D. Ryan’s Post-Jazz Poetics: A Social History
Cheryl A. Wall’s Worrying the Line: Black Women Writers, Lineage, and Literary Tradition
Meta DuEwa Jones's Muse Is Music : Jazz Poetry from the Harlem Renaissance to Spoken Word

Black Celebrity: Contemporary Representations of Postbellum Athletes and Artists by Emily Rutter

About the Book
Publication: 2021
Publisher: University of Delaware Press

A revealing exploration of how contemporary Black writers reimagine historic Black celebrities by illuminating the complex inner lives behind their public personas.

This post is part of the Books in Brief series, which features concise conversations with scholars about their books in African American literary studies.

1. What inspired you to pursue the lines of research and writing that resulted in this book?
Black Celebrity was in many respects an extension of my first two books, which examine representations of blues icons (The Blues Muse) and Black baseball (Invisible Ball of Dreams: Literary Representations of Baseball behind the Color Line), demonstrating the unique capacity of imaginative literature to capture the emotional texture and terrain of the past. We have also been living through an era that appeared on the verge of a third reconstruction and now appears to be in another sociopolitical nadir (with echoes of the late nineteenth century), so Black Celebrity grew out of these longstanding research interests as well as the contemporary structure of feeling, which invites us to consider the throughlines between the postbellum era and our own time.

2. What surprised you most during your research or writing process?
I don’t know if these are surprises or just teachable moments, but I always learn a great deal in the process of writing a book about a subject I think I am already well-versed in. For example, I knew about some of the figures in the cast of characters invoked in Tyehimba Jess’s tour-de-force collection Olio but certainly not all, and it was a pleasure to be introduced to Sissieretta Jones and Christine and Millie McKoy, among others. Learning about them as virtuoso artists with tremendous life stories was an education in and of itself, and again this is the transformative power of literature to raise epistemological questions about how we know what we know and why some figures continue to be heralded (or remain notorious) and others are cast into the dustbin of history (lying in wait for a brilliant poet to invoke them anew!).

3. What was the hardest decision you had to make while writing this book?
With every book, the question is where to stop—where, in other words, to say this is the final chapter. One could always keep going, finding new material and continuing to write and examine. The choice comes down to what I am trying to achieve. Am I trying to produce a comprehensive survey of all the contemporary African American poetry collections or novels that, in this case, have taken up postbellum, pre-Harlem Renaissance artists and athletes, or am I examining these particular works as case studies to make a broader set of claims about what literature contributes to our understanding of history and its residue in the present? These are the questions I ruminated on as I made hard decisions about which chapters to include and which material to leave for another article or monograph.

4. What's one lesson you learned while producing this book that you'll carry into future projects?
If I had to write this book anew, I would deploy a more nuanced structure in the chapters and would worry less about adhering to more traditional literary analysis and theoretical structures. The scholarship I gravitate toward these days (and am producing more of as well) integrates literary analysis, auto-theoretical reflections, and theoretical frameworks into a more fluid reading experience that does not announce itself as scholarship (capital “S”) but is making important claims with significant stakes. Perhaps this is a style swerve more than anything, but with every new research project I think more about the how as it connects to the what and why.

5. If any come to mind, are there books in African American literary studies that you see your work in conversation with?
Annette Debo’s The Necessary Past: Revising History in Contemporary African American Poetry
Saidiya Hartman’s Wayward Lives, Beautiful Experiments: Intimate Histories of Riotous Black Girls, Troublesome Women, and Queer Radicals
Kevin Quashie’s The Sovereignty of Quiet: Beyond Resistance in Black Culture
Ryan Sharp’s Another Throat: Twenty-First-Century Black U.S. Persona Poetry and the Archive

As an aside, I’m always in conversation with The Honeyfish Collective scholars and poets: Sequoia Maner, darlene anita scott, Sharon Lynette Jones, Leah Milne, and Katy Didden. They are the ever astute and encouraging voices in my head as I am writing and thinking (friends of my mind, as Morrison might say).

Thursday, October 8, 2026

The Organizational Brilliance of Ada Jackson and Gabrielle Wallen



Let’s get one thing straight: the organizational expertise of Ada Jackson and Gabrielle Wallen have been understudied and deserve far more recognition.

Jackson and Wallen work for the UNCF/Mellon Programs under the directorship of Cynthia Spence, and they recently coordinated the program's annual conference. I've long noticed and benefited from their organizational expertise, but until now, I've somehow failed to document the remarkable work they do behind the scenes.

Maybe that's because too many of us take such work for granted. Maybe it's because we tend to focus on the people on stage rather than those who make the stage possible. Maybe and hopefully, as my dear mentor Jerry Ward would say, it's not too late.

Their work is all around us, and at the same time, it seems invisible, simply because people refuse to see it. Thanks, Ellison, we heard you. This year, after working with colleagues to organize a few mini-workshops at my university, I've become even more inclined to seek out and pay close attention to expert organizers like Jackson and Wallen. It took just about every one of my brain cells to assist in pulling together a gathering of approximately 10 advanced graduate students and scholars.

Well, Jackson and Wallen coordinated a conference involving more than 10 times as many people. And they've been doing this kind of work year after year.

Spence, Jackson, and Wallen have developed an impressive pre-conference process. Months in advance, they send a "save the date" email to their expansive network. Next come the follow-ups, inviting people to express interest and register. Meanwhile, Spence is working her network, reaching out to people at smaller institutions who may not have attended previously, as well as colleagues across the country whom she hopes to bring into the gathering.

Jackson and Wallen then begin the complicated work of coordinating with attendees. They arrange flights, lodging, and dietary accommodations. Somewhere in the background, they're also organizing airport shuttles and transportation between conference locations.

At the same time, the team is developing the conference program, refining the central topic, identifying keynote speakers, and arranging concurrent panels. All these moving parts require countless decisions, communications, and adjustments long before anyone arrives.

By the time we attendees show up, we encounter the results of months of careful planning. An undergraduate assistant welcomes us, provides name badges, and distributes conference materials. There's a packet with the schedule and other essential information. You attend enough conferences, and you begin to take these things for granted.

But Spence, Jackson, and Wallen go beyond the basics. They take special care to ensure that the conference gift bags contain things attendees can actually use. A portable phone charger. A really nice journal. Thoughtful items that make the experience more convenient and enjoyable. They're all about the details.

And then there are the meals. Their conferences have a high standard for hospitality. Years ago, during one gathering, I overheard a hotel manager apologizing to Spence because something had fallen short of expectations. I hadn't noticed anything wrong, but from his apology, I could tell that he understood she had distinct standards and that he and his staff had not met them. Spence was gracious and understanding. Without realizing it, she was giving me several lessons at once about leadership, accountability, and professionalism.

At the close of the conference, Jackson and Wallen are still moving around, making sure everyone knows when their airport shuttles are scheduled to depart. We load onto the buses, and when the final shuttle pulls away, there they are, waving and bidding us farewell.

From the earliest planning emails to the departure of the final guests, Jackson and Wallen are there, attending to details, solving problems, and making everything look easier than it is. Their organizational brilliance deserves to be seen, studied, and celebrated.

The Value of Giving Away Books


Free books can play an important role in expanding access to scholarship and circulating ideas.

Thanks to the generosity of Cynthia Spence and her crew, dozens of attendees at the recent UNCF/Mellon conference received free copies of either my book Writing Black Panther or One Black Writer at a Time, which I co-wrote with my brother Kenton, and it was especially rewarding to see people carrying the books throughout the gathering.

Kenton and I also gave a presentation about our book and how we arrived at the topic, while the distribution of free copies reinforced an important point: removing the cost of academic books creates more opportunities for people to encounter scholarship, engage with new ideas, and participate in conversations they might otherwise miss.

Related 

Notebook on UNCF-Mellon Conferences

2026

2024