Walking into the RACE: Are We So Different? exhibit at History Colorado, I was already aware that race is not a scientific fact. Some things that impact us greatly disappear the closer we examine them. Race is one of those things. The exhibit explains why we look different based on geography. That reminded me of writer Maya Angelou, who visited Africa and found people who looked just like her—they had her hips, smiles and eyes. Continue reading “Winning the Ovarian Lottery: One Community’s Look at Race and Privilege”
A quiet walk among the aspens reveals a history that is often forgotten. Stately white trees with green or gold leaves, depending on the season, stand as sentinels of a past time. On their skin, incised with care, are elaborate carvings that give names, places and images—a record of travelers through the forest. These are arborglyphs: tree carvings that provide a glimpse of past lifeways. They are a wooden canvas, a reflection of Hispano history. They are ever-changing as the trees grow and expand.
Too soon, they will be gone. Wind, fire, disease or age will claim these trees. As they fall, their messages will decay and this window into the past will close. The names will be forgotten, and the art of the wayfarer will be lost. Continue reading “The Wooden Canvas – Arborglyphs Reflect Hispano Life Along the Pine-Piedra Stock Driveway”
Did you know that October is American Archives Month? To celebrate, we’ll be sharing some behind-the-scenes stories from our Photograph Collection and highlighting some of the work we do to preserve, organize, describe and provide access to the images in our collection. This summer our staff, interns and volunteers have been been digitizing, researching and cataloging our Early Photography collection: 600 daguerreotypes, ambrotypes and tintypes. Continue reading “Mad Hatters and the Anatomy of a Daguerreotype”
The first time someone was curious about my skin color, I was 4. It was in kindergarten when I got approached with the question, and my answer was, “I am grey.”
Living in a household with a white father and a black mother helped me jump to the conclusion that grey was, without a doubt, my race. I wish things were that easy from there on. Continue reading “Race: The Invisible Rainbow”
La primera vez que alguien me pregunto cual era el color de mi piel, yo tenia 4 años. Fue en el kinder cuando un compañero sin reparo lanzo la pregunta y con la mayor naturalidad contesté, -Yo soy gris.-
Vivir en un hogar con una padre blanco y una madre negra me ayudo a llegar a la conclusión que gris, era sin duda alguna, una raza. Ojalá todo hubiese sido así de sencillo a partir de ese momento.
An English version of this post is available here.