Intermission, ft. Baby’s First Archive Trip!

As promised, today I’m rehashing my first archive visit! After completing one successful visit, I am clearly an authority on how to do this (please, please read the sarcasm), so if you need a step by step tutorial, you’ve come to the right place!

Step 1: Have a vague (or specific) idea of what you’re looking for; find an archive that has this vague/specific material– or something closely related.

DO: Ask your professors for leads on archives, archivists who specialize in your topic, universities that have certain collections.

DON’T: Assume the only archive you know about has what you’re looking for.

All I knew when I was starting out was that I wanted to find an archive that had the July 1966 Fantastic Four issue no. 52, which featured the introduction of Black Panther. I really wanted to read Stan Lee’s Soapbox Letters and the Letters from the Bullpen in the early Black Panther comics to see what the discourse around the character was. Everything I’d been using up until yesterday had been a reprint and thus all of the fun extra pages from the originals were absent.

One of my professors gave me a lead on a comic archive in Michigan, but as I’d assumed I’d find something in the National Archive, I didn’t apply for summer research money, thinking I’d just have a jaunt up to D.C. and return with everything I needed. When I finally had time to scour the archives a few weeks ago, I came up empty handed and started to panic.

Once I pulled myself together, I told myself I just needed to follow a different trail. One of my favorite things to do is mine footnotes of articles and books that were inspiring to me. I wound up searching through the entire #WakandaSyllabus just to see if anything would jump out at me. Fortunately, one of the sources in the Syllabus, was a link to an article about VCU’s Comic Collection and the head archivist there, Cindy Jackson, in RVANews. It took me about ten minutes to realize that the archive had every Black Panther comic I needed to look at, and dozens more, and only a few minutes after that to begin drafting an e-mail to the archivist…


Step 2: Reach Out to the Archivist of Your Collection

DO: Go through the archive and have a list of things you’d like to see.

DON’T: Worry about getting everything perfect the first time. Be honest about where you are in your researching journey.

Working with Cindy was fantastic. She promptly replied to emails, was happy to pull additional sources for me that I hadn’t listed, but felt I might enjoy, and was generally outstanding in her knowledge of comics and comic scholars. I knew when we both agreed that Tim Hanley’s Wonder Woman Unbound was a better Wonder Woman history than Jill Lepore’s The Secret Life of Wonder Woman that I was in good hands.

Step 3: Plan Your Visit

DO: Have a date in mind, but be flexible. It may take time for the archivist to gather your materials.

DON’T: Over do it. Don’t ask to see 300 sources when you know you’re only going to be visiting for a day.

I planned on coming in to the archive about a week after I initially reached out to Cindy. I made myself a list of things I needed to see (which really was only the Fantastic Four no. 52 and 53 and a few of the first Jungle Action issues) and then listed everything else as “would be nice but not necessary.”

Cindy gave me a general set of guidelines for what to expect when I got to the archive– she’d pull a set of things for me, but I’d be able to take about 5 into the reading room at a time; there was a scanner but I was able to bring in electronics and a camera if necessary; and she recommended I bring a jump drive, as it’d be a little easier than trying to e-mail myself a zillion pages of comics.

Step 4: Prep For Your Visit

DO: Pack your bag the night before. Charge your electronics. Make sure you have directions to the archive. Take a jacket or a long sleeve shirt in case it’s cold. 🙂

DON’T: Forget your camera battery.

I forgot my camera battery. I left it in the wall, charging.

It wasn’t really that big of a deal because I had my jump drive and was able to scan everything I needed, but I was mostly just annoyed that I’d done all that prep and even ran back into the apartment for snacks and an additional phone and iPad charger— but still forgot the camera battery.

Had the camera. Forgot the battery.

Here’s what I took with me in a tote bag:

  • My iPad
  • My iPhone
  • My iPad/iPhone charger and USB cord
  • My Jump Drive
  • My camera (which was useless without its battery but anywho…)
  • My thesis binder with all my notes, essay drafts, and other related materials (included a pad of paper for scratch notes)
  • My journal, which had written instructions on how to get to the library, and then how to get to the archive once inside
  • Pencil case just bursting with writing utensils (which was also useless as, of course, you’re only allowed to bring in pencils and they have those inside the reading room so…)
  • My wallet
  • Snacks! (I didn’t know what my food situation would be like, alright?)

I didn’t take my laptop, mostly because it’s big and clunky and honestly a piece of crap. But I almost wish I’d taken it, if only because I could’ve used it to make sure all my scans were saving properly. (I’m a little anxious that everything will disappear on me.)

I also wish I’d had business cards with me so I could’ve shared my information with some of the other really nice archivists I met. (Especially since I was planning on writing nice things about them on my blog.)


Step 5: Enjoy the Journey

DO: Blast hype music in the car and sing loudly during the hour I spent on 64 traveling to Richmond.

DON’T: Panic or stress.

Once I got into Richmond, I missed a lot of turns and got really turned around because there was so much construction happening on the campus itself. Cindy had recommended just parking in a lot so I wouldn’t have to move during the day, but I was so worried about arriving late, that I just swung into the first 2 hour spot I found on the street. (Thank God for my three years of parallel parking training in insanely tight street spots near the French House.)

Nevertheless, I was only moderately behind schedule and was ready to head into my latest adventure.

Step 6: Get Started!

DO: Introduce yourself! Explain your project! But also listen to the archivist– they’ll give you valuable information about the archive, the sources they’ve rounded up for you, and any special directions/protocol to follow while working in the reading room.

DON’T: Worry about getting lost on your way to the archive itself! Just ask people where to go. Bonus points if you accidentally run into your best friend from undergrad, who’s studying to be a dentist, while you’re attempting to find the archive. (She helped me find the library.)

As I’ve mentioned, Cindy was an invaluable resource. She pulled a bunch of really awesome comics for me, including one really neat one that was an actual “Black Panther” comic (like the Oakland, CA/Black beret/10 Point Program Panthers), featuring a brother named “Eldridge.” (See below) How sway. She also let me know about cool things they do, like an annual comic sale!

Once we were done chatting, I selected my first five comics and headed into the reading room with my iPad, phone, binder, jumpdrive, charger, and pencil.


Step 7: Start Scanning!

DO: Take a look to see what treasures you’ve uncovered!

DON’T: Spend all day just looking. Start scanning so you can pour over them from the comfort of your home.

My goal was to get everything Cindy had pulled for me scanned and on my jump drive so I could look at everything carefully when I got home.

They had an overhead scanner, so I could look at the pages while the machine did its job. I mostly scanned nonstop, but if something jumped out at me, I’d jot down a note with the issue I found it in. For instance, I just noted things like:

  • Striking villains. (ex. Black Panther v. the Klan)
  • Lynching scenes
  • If Black Panther was listed as a comic you could subscribe to (it usually wasn’t)
  • Who the advertisements were geared to
  • If any of the fan letters stuck out to me.

After I got into a rhythm, it didn’t take me long to move on through the issues.

Around noon, I decided to take a lunch break and move my car…

Step 8: Take a break! Eat! Drink! Be Merry!

DO: Move your car if it’s in two hour parking.

DON’T: Get a parking ticket. (I didn’t, so that was nice.)

Fortunately, there was a full service Starbucks on the first floor of the library, so I met up with my aforementioned friend and we passed an amicable lunch hour together, getting caught up and filling each other in on our respective pursuits. It was only appropriate that the (future) Drs. Stringfield and Dao ran into each other at a library where we were both trying to do work.


Step 9: Finish scanning!

DO: Make sure to get business cards before you leave!

DON’T: Leave the room a mess. Make sure it looks the same as it did when you came in.

I spent the rest of the afternoon scanning more issues and chatting with one of the other archivists, who was pleasant and interested in my project. Before long, I had scanned everything I needed and I tried to use the scanner to see if my scans were being saved on the jump drive properly. It took a while, but I managed to figure it out and I saw about 2 dozen folders on my jump drive, so I figured they’d stuck.

I spent a few minutes writing about the most interesting things I’d seen during the day and what I might like to see if I came again.

I returned everything to its proper place in the reading room and returned the rest of my issues to the archivist on duty, making sure they were placed back correctly in their plastic. I made sure to grab one of Cindy’s cards so I could e-mail her and thank her, as she’d been gone when I was leaving.

For some reason, I’d imagined archive work to be dreary and miserable, but I had passed a remarkably pleasant day, wading through first editions of comics in a bright, newly constructed facility, with enthusiastic and knowledge archivists ready to help me, if I said the word. I was satisfied knowing that I’d found a resource so close to home that I might be able to use not only for my Masters thesis, but for my dissertation as well.


Step 10: Carefully review your new found collection of sources.

So that’s what I’ve been doing this morning when I haven’t been writing up this post. I’ve been looking through my issues, renaming folders as necessary and taking notes, all while enjoying as much coffee as I’d like (one of the downsides of archives: no coffee allowed.)

I’ll be sure to let you all know what treasures I’ve uncovered when I’m done wading through all my sources!


If you’re interested in comic studies and happen to be in the Virginia/DMV area, be sure to give Cindy and the Comic Arts Collection a visit in VCU’s James Branch Cabell Library.

Intermission ft. Self-Doubt in “Are You Sure You’re Doing This Right?”

My last month has been great. I’ve been catching up on sleep, making myself good food and voraciously reading and watching shows and movies I missed during the semester. I’ve been journaling and making art. (Examples of both are actually at the bottom of the home page of this site! I can’t do much online but I rigged this to connect to my instagram page, RavynnCreates, which you should absolutely follow.) But I’ve also gotten some work done, too– I’ve already met with Jody about what my Lemon assistantship is going to look like next year and I’m killing it at my job at Michaels. (I’ve already gotten two really kind customer survey feedback reports, both of which are tacked on a board in our break room.)

I’ve even been having fun. I’ve always been mature and serious, so my idea of fun has always been very different than my peers’ ideas. But more recently I realized there’s point in always acting like I’m 40 when I have a solid twenty years before I get there and I have plenty of time after that to act like an old fuddy duddy. So I got a little more social. I stopped avoiding outings with friends and started taking people up on more lunch and dinner invitations. I’ve just been out and about more instead of retreating into my shell as I am so wont to do, going kayaking with buds or even just hanging out at coffee shops by myself. I’ve even *gasp* been to a concert!

Up until last Saturday, I’d never been to huge concert– unless you count going to BET Honors my fourth year of college, but that was definitely more show than concert– and I always assumed that my favorite artist would have to be headlining for me to go. (Read: I was pretty sure J. Cole was going to be my first and only concert.) But Chance the Rapper was in town, and I knew enough about him and his music to merit purchasing those spur of the moment lawn tickets. My friend and I hit the road to VA Beach, and I got to not only see the concert, but two of my dearest friends while we were there.

In between all of the various exciting outings, I have also been able to hang out with my parents and my uncles, who were up visiting from Key West last week.

And in between all of that?

I’ve been working on my Masters Thesis.

Even though I made a schedule for myself, starting seemed daunting. My first move was to get organized. I collected the two papers I wanted to use for my portfolio, collected my professors’ comments on those papers, any e-mail correspondence I’d had about the papers, and my SASA conference paper into one binder. I added a pad of paper to the back so if I had to take notes (which, clearly, I would) I could keep everything together.

So I had a nice heap of things I needed, strikingly organized in a clear binder with colorful dividers but that was about all I had.

I carried my project around in my purse with me for a few days so whenever I hit up a coffee shop (which was often), I could fish it out and look at it, as if staring at it would make clear what I was to do next.

For a while, I tried editing what I already had, slashing away at poorly worded paragraphs, circling ideas that were crucial but under developed, but it slowly became clear that though my Black Panther essay was the one that has been carrying me as a scholar, it’s also a mess.

I would have to rewrite it.

At first I was stuck in between a ton of emotions– frustration that there was nothing I could save, fear of starting from the bottom again, and a little disgust that I hadn’t written anything better. But I started to look at it as a good thing. The fact that I knew I had to try writing this paper again meant that my ideas had grown, my theory and source base had expanded and my execution has gotten better. Even just from semester one to semester two, my papers have gotten leaps and bounds better (though admittedly they still aren’t particularly well written.) I wanted my semester one ideas to be communicated with my semester two knowledge base.

It’s a good thing.

Then, after that panic subsided and I was able to move forward again, I started to worry that I would never be able to write in the tradition academic way. I wondered if I would ever be able to write clearly– create sentences, to quote Baldwin, that are “clean as a bone.” I remember reading a girl in my cohort’s paper at the end of the semester thinking, this is one of the clearest pieces I’ve read, this could be in a journal. She and I were both in the masters part of the program, but she could write like that and I still have trouble writing about only one idea at a time.

I began to worry that maybe I wasn’t “serious” enough of a scholar. I started to question the validity of my questions and my research interests. I started to question if I was doing something wrong. Clearly, comic studies and Black studies are vibrant fields, but I felt as if my work was missing components that made it relevant.

It didn’t help that I didn’t get the academic blogging internship I applied for.

Rationally: yes, I did submit my application late; no, I did not actually need to do the internship in addition to everything else I was doing this summer; and no, it really wasn’t that big of a deal.

Irrationally: I wondered why I wasn’t considered and instead of reasoning that a large part of it was my tardiness (which is probably was), I let the rejection be an indictment of my work. I blog, yes, but it isn’t “serious.” I do history, kind of. I do Black studies, in a way. I wasn’t doing work in a way that one particular group didn’t affirm as valuable. I wondered if I could be doing something better, what I could be doing better. I thought, maybe I should drop blogging all together and spend more time in the library, maybe I should try doing more archival research and then I’d be taken seriously, maybe I should stop trying to claim Black studies– is my work laughable?

I confided my worries to a fellow Black doctoral student in a different program and said to her, “Sometimes I really wonder if I’m even doing this right.”

She kind of smiled at me and said kindly, “I hear you and I hear your concerns, but I really doubt you’re doing this wrong.”

At the moment, I smiled and acted like I was reassured, but the truth was, I was still carrying around my project and not really doing anything with it. I was reading more articles and books, writing little summaries of them, just generally plodding along but not really moving forward.

This past week wasn’t much better. I spent a couple of days scouring the National Archive, hoping there might be something I could use for my paper so I didn’t have to go to Michigan to the archive my professor had suggested, mostly because I didn’t apply for summer research money. Finally, I returned to the Wakanda Syllabus, a tidy document of comic/Black studies resources, written by Dr. Walter Greason and posted on Black Perspectives, for new inspiration. A solid half of the material, I’d already come into contact with in some shape or form, but I made a point to click on every link.

One of the last sources linked me to an article in RVANews about a comic archive at VCU.

And it was like everything fell into place.

Another hour of researching uncovered that the archive had original issues of all of the comics I’d wanted to use, plus hundreds more that could almost certainly be relevant.

I took down as much information as I could, including the name of the archivist and her phone number, already getting excited that I had found something so relevant so close to home. This archive, at most an hour away from my apartment, might resolve a lot of the hiccups of self doubt and invalidity that I’d been feeling about my work.

(So definitely stay tuned because I’ll probably be writing about my first archive trip before long. Honestly, thank Rao that this archive is so close.)

I probably need to stop worrying so much and just let my mind take me where it wants to go. I wouldn’t be here if at least a few people didn’t think I had potential. I’ve got plenty of ideas– I just need to learn to stop doubting them. They’ve gotten me this far, I doubt they’ll fail me now.

Week 17.5, or the Aftermath

It’s been quiet today. I lounged around my apartment, reading comics, catching up with TV shows and friends, making art and banana bread, high on the absence of immediate responsibility. My last grade of the semester came in last night before I went to sleep and it seemed impossible that I had ended what proved to be a tragic semester on such a high note.

My major texts in African-American life professor sent back my final paper/project (I was to write a transcription of a conversation between W.E.B. Du Bois, Booker T. Washington, Patrick Moynihan, Gunnar Myrdal and E. Franklin Frazier, which I promptly turned into play, with stage directions and all) with the following comments:


I will admit, I cried. Not hard or for very long, but I was moved for so many reasons. For once, I got the opportunity to let my work be as limitless as I am. Despite being in grad school, on track for a PhD, I still struggle to reign in my ideas and stuff them in a paper. Someone recognized my knee-jerk impulse to wonder what Booker T. Washington would have thought of hip-hop as insightful and my desire to turn everything into a story virtuous. I felt validated in my knowledge. For once, I eagerly anticipated getting my work back, knowing I’d knocked the assignment out of the park, because I was operating within my wheelhouse, rather than anxiously awaiting results, knowing I’d get pages of what I’d done wrong, what I could’ve done more of or what I could have added. 

It’s sort of the point of academia, really– you could’ve always done something better and someone is always going to point it out. At some point, you simply have to say, this is the best I can do with the time and resources I was given. You have to cut it off.

So when I received my first grade back (which was not at all disappointing considering I’d only been able to go to one class a week all semester, had to rewrite my entire prospectus with an entirely different bibliography and rewrite my paper to include about three more books), I gave in. I made myself be satisfied with my grade. The fact was, given my mental health issues, my medical leave from school, and my mother’s hospitalization and resulting struggles, it was remarkable that I even came back to school. It was extraordinary that I not only went to class but actively participated, and even did my readings. (I was reading painfully slowly and was almost always catching up, but I finished it all, nevertheless.) It was beyond reason that I managed to even finish a final paper, but even rewrite, expand my argument and source base within a few weeks, considering I was still sleeping too much and spending every free evening I had in Suffolk. I did the absolute best that I could have done with that paper. I worked damn hard on it. And it may not have been perfect, but I worked as hard as I could to turn into something good, that I liked. What I wrote would’ve been good anyway, but it was amazing to me, given what it had taken to write it.

It was proof to me that grades don’t reflect struggle. They don’t reflect life. No one’s going to know what I had to go through to get that A-, nobody but me. I prayed more than I wrote during my finals weeks. I cried more than I care to admit. I was so determined to finish because I had made it that far, that I just prayed to make it. I prayed for no success other than surviving, and yet I get to sit here and write about what it had taken to get my A-, and about how my A performance in another class was validating and a testament.

I don’t normally like to put my grades “out there.” When I was in the ninth grade, my best friend took my test and told the class I’d gotten a 98 on it, so naturally I threw a book at his head. Hard. Thankfully, he ducked. But for some reason I want to put my 3.9 on a certificate, frame it, and hang it above my bed. My earlier blogposts from the beginning of the semester somehow seemed to foreshadow the downward spiral that my spring was going to take. I missed that first step in January, and never recovered. But in spite of the fact that I kept missing steps, and was hurtling downward, I never stopped moved. Moving forward is still forward motion, even if you’re falling. So I stumbled through the semester, just praying to keep moving forward– to not stop, because if I stopped I didn’t know if I’d be able to move again. I constantly tripped over myself, tumbled and rolled, and yet I still managed to win. 

Now, let me be crystal– I was lucky. I recognize that the “normal” course of action would have been for me to withdraw from the semester. There was simply too much to be getting on with in my life and in my family’s life this semester. There is nothing healthy about the fact that during two nearly fatal circumstances in which my mother and I were physically and mentally drowning, I put my papers on the life raft instead of trying to save her or myself.

Nevertheless, I won’t deny that I have been tremendously blessed to have gotten the results that I received. In fact, I have literally running around scream-singing “Somebody say BLESSED! (Blessed!)” since the first grade came in. Amid the insanity, I also found out that I will be serving as the Lemon Project graduate assistant next year, a post that I am truly excited to occupy. Grateful though I am for the skill set I have acquired as a Omohundro apprentice, I have never been more glad to have a job that doesn’t require me to sit in a basement 10 hours a week, staring at a computer screen, only to interact with a human to see if there are leftover snacks in the break room.

Just as my performance on my Af-Am texts paper proved, I thrive in environments when I’m given intellectual freedom, a sense of creative liberation and respected as an academic. I prosper when I can break down high brow ideas into digestible meaning.  I create. I orchestrate. I lead. I negotiate. I am so much more than a researcher. My intellect is not limited to papers and often is more readily visible when I’m given such outlets as Lemon or a script to really spread my wings. When I let my ideas spread over acres, the result is a diverse, expansive and prosperous garden. 

Fortunately though, there are still several months between now and when I take up my mantle, and more fortunately still, there is plenty to do until then. I might’ve mentioned, I have a job as a course instructor for the cross cultural program with Keio University for two weeks in August, which will be a 24/7 on call sort of gig. Until then, I’ll work part time at Michaels craft store and write/edit my Masters thesis. I’m extremely interested in doing an editing internship with the peer review blog Black Perspectives, but I’m still trying to decide what is reasonable, what is too much, and figuring out if I am going to have the time to take care of myself the way I need to and do all of the things I want to do. The truth is that even though I know I can do it, I need to be more attentive to whether I should do things based on me and what I need as a person.

Even without Black Perspectives, my summer will still be extremely fulfilling and busy. I even have a writing schedule worked up (per request of the Dean) to keep me honest.


Either way, I’m celebrating the monumental success of having survived a hellish semester with much sleeping, lots of food and many comics. Given that I’ve got so much coming down the pipe, I might update the blog more than I thought I would, providing some “intermission” entertainment, giving updates on my thesis progress  and so on. 

So to those who have struggled with me from the beginning, thank you. Just knowing that every now and then somebody reads this, helps me feel a little less alone in this great big lonely world we call Academia. 

And to those of you just joining me, the good new is there’s still plenty of adventure left.

My attempt at joining the Academy