Friday, February 13, 2026

Theorizing Cultural Spaces on Campus



I probably haven’t done enough to theorize the use and development of cultural spaces on campuses. But I’ve been thinking about it for quite some time now here at SIUE.

Back in February 2004, I organized the first large-scale viewing of Eugene B. Redmond’s photographs of Black writers in an exhibit space on campus. Dozens of people, many of whom would not have normally attended an event at SIUE, showed up. That experience led me to think more seriously about developing culturally distinct projects that could, among other things, bring new people into campus spaces where they were typically absent or unlikely to visit.

Later, beginning in the summer of 2010, the university gave me access to a small room on the third floor of the library, where I created the Redmond Reading Room to store and showcase posters from the various exhibits I had organized. That reading room ultimately served as a blueprint for the larger space the university later created: the Eugene B. Redmond (EBR) Learning Center.

Since the EBR Center opened on October 19, 2015, we have hosted well over 200 events, including poetry readings, book-browsing sessions, presentations, a fashion show, mini-conferences, discussion groups, and multiple kinds of exhibits.

Theorizing cultural spaces helps us better understand how intentionally designed environments on campuses can support community formation, nurture intellectual exploration and development, expand participation in the humanities, and create enduring structures for artistic engagement.

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Why You Gotta Visit Cindy Reed's Classes



I visited my homegirl-colleague Cindy Reed’s African American literature course yesterday to conduct a teaching evaluation. That's the story I told. My real main reason for visiting was to follow up on a research question I developed: What’s going on in Professor Reed’s classes that make her former students react so strongly and positively when they see her on campus?

I figured a look at what's happening in her classes with current students would provide some clues.

At the start of class, no, before the class began, she was engaging everyone by name. If you have a nickname, that’s the name she uses. She’s says their names, says their names throughout the session. 

And she’s continually translating course content. We use a common syllabus for our various African American literature courses, and I wrote much of the writing and framing for materials. When discussing the materials in class for her students, Reed is constantly explaining what is meant by some of the wording I may have provided. 

“What’s speculative mean?” she asks. “Employ’ right here is a another way of saying ‘use.’” “Here’s another way to say that passage.” There’s perpetual translation.

She’s throwing out vernacular expressive phrasings on a regular. “Got dern!” “OooOOOHHH!” “Come on now!”

She’s moving to that side, then over there, and next right here, and then back over there. You in that room with her, then your eyes working, your head moving, and your ears getting all kinds of experiences.

I’m sitting on one side of the room, and throughout the session, I’m looking out across the whole room. I periodically notice this one young sister who never speaks. But she's deeply engaged, smiling, taking notes, and laughing at Reed’s jokes. I realize that she’s studying, but not just studying the content of what Reed is saying.

No, the student is also studying and absorbing a lesson about what it might mean to be a Black woman talking on a subject and knowing people’s names and having knowledge on a subject and helping others understand. I mean really, it’s clear that this sister is studying this other lesson that Reed is teaching her.

How Dwight McBride Unknowingly Lifted A Young Scholar

I attended the Modern Language Association (MLA) conference in my first or second year as a professor at Southern Illinois University Edwardsville, so around 2003 or 2004. While browsing the book exhibit, I spotted a well-known scholar in African American literary studies. 

I rushed over and began telling her how much I admired her work and how much I had learned from it when she interrupted me: “Have you published a book?” “No,” I said. “Oh, I thought you were someone else,” she replied, and the conversation ended there.

I won’t lie; I was hurt and embarrassed. To tell a further truth, I remember thinking that the interaction confirmed some of the critiques I had been hearing about elitism in academic spaces. I began to leave the exhibit hall, feeling, you know, defeated. 

Before I could exit, another well-known scholar walked by. Not wanting a repeat of what had just happened, I kept my head down and tried to move along. But he saw me, smiled, said hello, extended his hand, and introduced himself: “I’m Dwight McBride.” Of course, I already knew who he was. If you were paying even modest attention to African American studies at that moment, you knew that Dwight McBride was a leading force in literary and cultural studies.

And there he was, speaking to me as if we were colleagues. One of us was major--established and widely recognized, and the other was minor--just getting started, but that was not how he approached the interaction. In retrospect, what may have seemed like a small gesture was actually a powerful act of affirmation.

Fast forward to December 2024, almost exactly twenty years after that MLA encounter. I attended the first meeting of a new Race & Ethnicity Study Group here in St. Louis. When I walked in, the host was speaking with a group of attendees, and as soon as he finished, he acknowledged me, smiled, extended his hand, and (once again) introduced himself: “I’m Dwight McBride.”

Wheatley, Moorhead, and Marshall, Intersections of Art and Poetry


Image 1: Phillis Wheatley, Negro Servant to Mr. John Wheatley, of Boston, 1773, attributed to Scipio Moorhead 
Image 2: Phillis Wheatley-Peters (1753 – 1784) African Poet in America, 2022, by Kerry James Marshall 
Image 3: US Postal Service Phills Wheatley Black Heritage Series, 2026


In 1773, a drawing, attributed to artist Scipio Moorhead, was produced of poet Phillis Wheatley, and an engraving of the image was produced in London and appeared as the frontispiece for Wheatley's Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral (1773). 


At the time of the drawing, both Moorhead and Wheatley were enslaved. The frontispiece image included the words, "Phillis Wheatley, Negro Servant to Mr. John Wheatley, of Boston.”

In 2022, Kerry James Marshall produced an image that was a take on the Wheatley engraving and the drawing attributed to Moorhead. Marshall's image an older Wheatley, and she is facing forward. The words above the image read, “Phillis Wheatley-Peters (1753 – 1784) African Poet in America.”

The Peters refers to Wheatley's married named. Today, some scholars refer to her as Phillis Peters, while some use Phillis Wheatley-Peters, while still others retain simply Phillis Wheatley. 

On January 29, 2026, the US Postal Service, as the 49th installment in their Black Heritage series, released a Phillis Wheatley stamp derived from Marshall's painting. 

When Discussion Drives Reading



By Joyce Woodard

For some Black students, college is where they begin reading more intentionally and discover new perspectives and authors, often because a class requires it, but what keeps their engagement with reading once it is no longer tied to a grade?

For Tamaruis Toles, the class-wide discussion is what makes the reading more compelling. “The best part of going over the poems is when everyone doesn’t agree,” Toles said. While she isn’t an avid reader, dissecting and analyzing poems in class with her peers, “...that’s the best part about it,” according to Toles.

Exchanging thoughts and opinions about reading with peers is important to Black students. It is especially crucial for Black students attending PWIs to have spaces where they feel heard and seen, and a lot of them find that in classes with other Black students.

If habits and interests are nurtured then reading can become less about completing an assignment and more about interacting with your peers. Sharing differing ideas can lead to insightful conversations and revelations for students as well as a newfound appreciation for reading.

Reading Depends on Who’s in the Room



By Joyce Woodard

This week’s discussion of Nella Larsen’s Passing (1929) in my Harlem Renaissance: Topics of African American Literature class, taught by Professor Angel Dye, showed me how much the experience of reading depends on who is in the room.

We began reading Passing and discussed the first two parts of the book as a class, and it was one of the liveliest book discussions I have ever been part of. There aren’t many people in this class, and most of the students are Black women, which I believe contributed to the strength of the conversation.

Given the book’s plot, the discussion focused heavily on how unbelievable or silly we found certain parts, and I left class with both new perspectives and a deeper appreciation for how Black readers discuss books. Black readers are able to analyze texts seriously and thoughtfully while still keeping conversations engaging and dynamic. The class felt short because the discussion was so immersive, allowing us to share different interpretations of the characters’ interactions without the conversation becoming boring.

In other classes I have taken, book discussions were never nearly as interesting as this one. As I grow as a reader, I am learning that the experience of reading and discussing is shaped significantly by the people I am engaging with about reading.

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Thursday, February 12, 2026

Donavan Ramon presents research at the Race & Ethnicity Study Group gathering



On the evening of February 11, my colleague Donavan Ramon presented his research during a meeting of the Race & Ethnicity Study Group in St. Louis. The study group, by the Center for the Study of Race, Ethnicity & Equity led by its executive director, Dwight A McBride at Washington University, brings together scholars in the region to discuss their ongoing research projects. 

Ramon’s talk, entitled “Keeping It Real: Black Men, Fight Scenes and Self-Making,” served as an overview of a project he is pursuing that focuses on canonical autobiographies and contemporary memoirs by Black men. He is examining how writers use fight scenes to present ideas about masculinity, consider rites of passage, critique systems of power, and rework the memoir as a form.

It was a strong presentation, with Ramon identifying several of the authors he is studying, including Olaudah Equiano, Frederick Douglass, Richard Wright, Ralph Ellison, Ta-Nehisi Coates, Damon Young, Kevin Powell, MK Asante, and Kiese Laymon.

After the presentation, there was a spirited Q&A session. It is rare for scholars to receive so much feedback on work in progress. During typical conference panels, there is usually time for only one or two questions. For this study group, however, about ten people participated in the post-presentation exchange, and some of us were able to ask multiple questions.

Providing a space for sustained feedback for scholars working on projects is one of the most important services that the Race & Ethnicity Study Group offers. I was also pleased that so many of my colleagues from SIUE were in attendance, including members of my crew from African American literary studies group.

The Growth of African American Literary Studies at SIUE


Our ability to achieve a record year of courses depends in part on our large group of contributors. 

Our team of specialists in African American literary studies in English at SIUE includes Tisha Brooks, Elizabeth Cali, Jeremiah Carter, Angel Dye, Donavan Ramon, Cindy Reed, and Treasure Redmond. We also have three graduate students, Rie Holmon, M. Mallon, and Jalen White, who teach courses for us, along with two academic success coaches, Danielle Hall and Daria Spencer, who teach our African American literature labs. 

Strange as it sounds to say now, there was a moment -- longer than I would have liked -- when African American literary studies at SIUE was just me. I'm grateful for how much we've grown. 

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