As day turned to night in Baltimore on April 27, 2015, the number of arrests for disorderly conduct, failure to obey, and destruction of property ticked upward. What began as street protests over the death of 25-year-old Freddie Gray exploded into a raw expression of fury. Thousands took to the streets to express their outrage both at Gray’s death and the decades of disinvestment and unjust policing of Black communities in Baltimore.

Many of the hundreds of people who would be arrested in the coming days would be held for more than 18 hours; many would not face charges and be released without explanation. 

The media in the city were laser-focused on the unrest — not the violation of rights that protesters were experiencing. 

A small group of legal professionals and activists, including Iman Freeman, Matthew Zernhelt, Dorcas Gilmore, Charlene Dukes and Jenny Egan, began organizing efforts to support those detained.

“We were a part of a small group of lawyers who helped set up legal observing, 24-hour jail support, and helping to bail folks out,” recalls Freeman, one of the founding members and the executive director of Baltimore Action Legal Team (BALT).

BALT was founded to make sure no one swept off the streets disappeared without due process and a network of care on the outside. They set up a legal hotline, tracked arrests in real time, and waited outside jails to meet people as they were released.

“I remember sitting in [Office of the Public Defender]’s office, writing down the names of everyone who was arrested. At first, it was minimal — just a few people. And then it was thousands. I remember seeing $300,000, $400,000 bails,” Freeman said. 

BALT’s jail support program, inspired by work done in Ferguson and New York after the police killings of Mike Brown and Eric Garner, provided critical resources for those detained. Legal volunteers worked around the clock to track detainees, provide legal representation, and, when possible, secure bail.

Police were caught on camera brutalizing and pepper-spraying protesters, further fueling the sense of injustice. Prosecutors failed to convict the officers involved in Gray’s arrest and death, while many protesters faced severe charges and exorbitant bail as high as $500,000 — the people protesting Gray’s death faced harsher punishment than the officers whose actions led to it.

A decade later, BALT is among the few initiatives launched in the wake of the Uprising that continues to operate. What started as an emergency legal response has transformed into a long-term fight for systemic change both through the courts and through grassroots organizing. 

Along with expunging hundreds of criminal records, the organization has filed lawsuits to win  the release of police misconduct records and led advocacy efforts to address Baltimore’s pretrial detention system, which disproportionately affects low-income residents and people of color.

That kind of systemic reform may be the end goal, but the real change happens through BALT’s boots-on-the-ground community work. Client by client, BALT workers strategically post up in disenfranchised communities, working with residents to ensure the broken legal system can no longer rob them of their livelihoods.

On an unseasonably warm day this February, a handful of residents signed in at an addiction treatment center in Baltimore’s raucous Penn North neighborhood. The location is tucked away in the heart of one of the city’s most notorious drug markets. 

Outside, it was a typical day in the West Baltimore neighborhood. Gospel music blasted, Black Baltimoreans chatted outside of Narcotics Anonymous meetings and nearby street pharmacists shouted out what they had in stock that day.

Inside, however, a renewed sense of hope was alive. Some sought sobriety; others wanted freedom from the weight of a criminal record. Long after a sentence ends, the punishment persists. A criminal record can be a lifelong sentence to poverty, slamming shut doors to decent jobs and housing. 

BALT began hosting clinics in 2022 to provide low-barrier legal services to anyone who may need them. For many, access to qualified legal professionals can be out of reach, increasing their chances of being weighed down by a criminal record — or incarcerated.

One of the primary services BALT offers is expungements, which can get rid of sometimes decades-old charges, ranging from simple misdemeanors to some felonies. This work is imperative, organizers say, as criminal records can interfere with access to employment, housing and some social services.

But it’s not just about doing away with cases of the past. The organization also provides warrant recall services, which can put a stop to ongoing law enforcement action. A warrant recall is a judicial order that revokes someone’s arrest warrant, interfering in the enforcement process and potentially preventing incarceration.

Since its inception, BALT has offered free expungement and warrant recall services to nearly 400 Baltimoreans.

Clearing the slate isn’t easy, nor is it a panacea. Yet it can provide opportunities to those who have faced off with a system that entraps Black Americans by design, attendees said.

At the treatment center, Matt Parsons, a community lawyer with BALT, sat upstairs in a conference room. One by one, residents ascended the stairs of Penn North Recovery Center with hopes they’d leave with a clean record. 

Nearly all of BALT’s clients are Black, which the organization takes into account by intentionally making its services available in neighborhoods with high Black populations such as Penn North, Parsons said. 

Reggie Johnson, who struggled to find gainful employment because of his criminal record but now works in the security field, had four offenses expunged with the help of BALT last year. It opened the world up to him again.

“Now I could do anything I want,” Johnson said.

He was such a satisfied client that he was sitting in the waiting room of the treatment center with his friend, Dennis Hughes, whom he brought to BALT’s February clinic with hopes Hughes could experience the same relief.

“I’m going to get my concealed carry (permit), and it don’t bother me because they’re not violent crimes. But I just wanted them off my record,” Hughes said. Hughes could have as many eight records expunged, Parsons said.

The excitement from former and current BALT clients in the waiting room was palpable. Whether the expungements gave way to new job opportunities or simply the peace of mind offered by a clean slate, clients expressed gratitude for the nonprofit’s work.

The criminal justice system is one piece of the deep inequities that plague Baltimore. Morgan State University professor Lawrence Brown coined the term “Black Butterfly” to describe the city’s apartheid-like disparities: wealthier, predominantly white areas in the central corridor receive the lion’s share of opportunities and investments at the expense of predominantly Black neighborhoods in the east and west parts of the city that are starved of resources.

These inequalities are even reflected in life expectancies: Those living in wealthy, white neighborhoods live nearly two decades longer than residents of the Black Butterfly. 

Residents in these neighborhoods are also disproportionately targeted by policing. The police arrest them; the judges and juries sentence them; the prisons hold them; and the system itself grips them and refuses to let them go. In Baltimore, this oppressive system largely impacts those in the Black Butterfly.

It’s a vicious, carceral cycle not only in Baltimore but nationwide. Black Americans are imprisoned at five times the rate of white people and experience the highest recidivism rates of all racial groups.

Even a brush with the criminal justice system can have devastating lifelong consequences, especially when whole communities are targeted. People imprisoned early in their lives go on to earn half as much as those untouched by the criminal justice system, a 2020 Brennan Center for Justice report found.  

BALT interrupts the cycle to free them from the shackles of a system designed to hold them captive.

“There’s an acknowledgment that people whose rights are violated deserve remedies. I think as far as what we value, which is movement lawyering — community lawyering — we want to focus on community relationships,” Parsons said. 

“My job shouldn’t really have to exist. These are not natural conditions. They were created by systems of oppression, by oppressors. We view providing pro bono services as being consistent with what we value in terms of Black people not deserving to be dehumanized and incarcerated en masse.”

BALT’s research found that in 2019, 75% of defendants denied bail later had their charges dropped or were acquitted. For those caught in the system, pretrial detention can mean months — or even years — of incarceration without a conviction, which can result in loss of employment and housing. Since 2020, BALT’s bail fund has assisted 78 people using $600,000 in bail funds. And between 2020 and 2022, BALT spent $300,000 covering electronic monitoring fees to help alleviate the financial burden on those awaiting trial.

“When you think of the role of law in achieving justice, a lot of people truly buy into that myth that through the law we can shift power because that’s what’s needed,” said Freeman, executive director of BALT. “History has taught us time and time again that that’s not right — it’s a people solution, and that includes lawyers utilizing legal tools.”

A decade after Freddie Gray’s death, Freeman acknowledges the progress made but says the work is far from over.

“We were born out of Black pain,” Freeman said of the organization’s founding after the killing of Freddie Gray in police custody. “It’s not lost on us that we stand on someone’s grave. And it’s not lost on us that nearly 10 years later, we’re still fighting many of the same battles. We’ve pushed for more transparency around police misconduct, and we did a lot of work around the consent decree that followed Freddie Gray’s death.”

BALT has survived this long because of its deep connections to the community and its ability to adapt. Sustaining a movement for the last decade and the years to come also means navigating challenges and responding to the evolving needs of the communities it serves. 

“We’re very good at the reaction. We’re very good at pulling up when people need us without the plan in place,” says Santana Alvarado, BALT’s director of operations. “But it’s nice that we’re able to also have this vision of the next five, 10 years and how we want to sustain this work in between disasters.”

BALT aims to fundamentally transform the legal landscape so its services are no longer needed. In 2022, a lawsuit brought by BALT led the State’s Attorney’s Office to release a list of more than 300 police officers flagged for credibility concerns based on Internal Affairs complaints. The following year, BALT secured a legal victory against the Baltimore Police Department, with the Maryland Supreme Court ruling that the department acted arbitrarily in denying public interest fee waivers for records requests.

By exposing the failures of policing, increasing transparency, and making legal knowledge accessible, BALT aims to equip Baltimore communities with the tools to advocate for themselves. Rather than relying on outside intervention, people should have the language, expertise and direct access to power needed to fight for their rights in courtrooms and beyond. 

“We want to put ourselves out of work,” says Zernhelt, BALT’s legal director.

The light that BALT brings to the community isn’t only found in its success in the courts, however. It’s visible in the people it helps.

The weight of criminal records that can make progress seem impossible is lifted. Incarceration is prevented, allowing people to be with their families and continue with their lives. And for some, such as Qiana Johnson, it can allow them to overcome the oppressive legal system and reinvest the hope that BALT gave them back into the community.

Johnson spent two and a half years incarcerated, found guilty of numerous charges related to real estate and theft in two separate cases. Her sentence could have been significantly longer, but she was released in 2017.

With BALT’s help, she got numerous records expunged after they were able to get felony charges converted to “probation before judgment.”

The organization also helped her fight nearly $300,000 in restitution set by a judge, which a higher court struck down as illegal. The latter helped prevent her from spending five more years in prison.

“I had to fight so hard,” Johnson said through tears. “I had to develop so many relationships; I had to beg so many people to listen to me that this was illegal. This was not supposed to happen to me. And BALT said, ‘I gotchu, we’re going to do this. We’re not going to see you back in prison.’”

Nearly a decade after her release, Johnson is still fighting to resolve remaining legal issues. She founded Life After Release, a nonprofit led by Black women that offers services to the formerly incarcerated, in response to a “barbaric” prosecutor in her case. 

The organization now partners with BALT in the arduous battle against a system created to put people like her down. That design is perhaps most evident in a key exemption in the 13th Amendment: Slave labor remains legal behind bars. And as the so-called “justice” system has grown, so has the complex structure that entraps the descendants of those who fought for their freedom many years ago.

“Most people think that [the system] is broken, but it’s not,” Johnson said. “It’s functioning in the way that it was designed to function.” 

“BALT has to exist, Life After Release has to exist in order to abolish what is currently in place and build a system of rehabilitation, a system of transformative justice and a system that would work for everybody. But the current system was built to oppress; it was built on the backs of slavery and has formed from that time until now.”

The post From emergency response to sustained resistance: How Baltimore Action Legal Team endured after the Uprising appeared first on Baltimore Beat.

Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God.  Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God.  – 1 John 4:7 

“I don’t know if white Christians hate Negroes or not, but I know we have a Christian Church which is white and a Christian Church which is Black. I know, as Malcolm X once put it, the most segregated hour in American life is high noon on Sunday. That says a great deal for me about a Christian nation.”  – James Baldwin on The Dick Cavett Show, 5/16/1969 

On Sunday, February 9, 2025, Govans Presbyterian Church unveiled a historic and powerful permanent installation by mixed media artist Ky Vassor entitled Sanctuary City Parts I and II. Many Black, Latino, and Asian people — communities long deterred from membership — opted to attend the service not only to honor Vassor’s accomplishment but also to hear what the institution might have to say about its role in abolishing systemic oppression and racialized violence. 

We are living in a redundant era, where mention of diversity feeds a woefully ignorant groupthink-borg-hive-mind with propaganda that some invisible encroaching enemy will take away their privileges. This false narrative corrupts democracy’s capacity, distracts the world from advancement, and prohibits those most in need from having what they and their families need to be well. Recently, that rhetoric tells us that the enemy is immigrants seeking sanctuary. On other days, that rhetoric proclaims it is the climate activists; protestors against genocide in Palestine, Congo, and Sudan; and women fighting for bodily autonomy. In other rants, the enemy is queer and trans lives fighting for their humanity to be acknowledged. The nation has a long history of demonizing Indigenous and Black lives, and that rhetoric is as old as the founding of the country.

Despite this morally deficient messaging that hopes our fear supersedes our logic and the power of our collective action, Govans, as an institution, has taken a brave stance to use its platform to stand up against injustice. They are still determining what this means and how this affects not only their congregation but also the community of North Baltimore, where their church resides. Govans has indicated that Vassor’s art commission will be the first of many substantial, rather than just symbolic, actions. Art cannot end centuries of oppression but can support robust discourse and motivate a community to grapple with complex realities to realize equitable solutions. This has always been the power of art.

The institution’s work to address oppression began in 2021 with an internal review of their diversity, including the figurative representations presented in the art they display, the racial makeup of their ministers, and the focus of their ministry. Designed in 1844 with the addition of a bell tower and chancel with a steeple added in 1905, the church celebrates many of the attributes of a Gothic Revival church. The most prominent feature, ecclesiastical stained glass windows, were installed from 1905 to 1910. Each window depicts scenes of Jesus and his disciples rendered in a style that rejects biblical descriptions of bronze skin and woolen hair in favor of likenesses popularized by European colonial expansion and missionary work around the world. In a brief segment during the service, the church acknowledged that these images, which overtly lack diversity, are unlikely to make non-white people feel welcome in the congregation. To try and counter this disparity, in 2024, Govans installed Minister Lea Gilmore as the Minister for Racial Justice & Multicultural Engagement and Reverend Dr. Ron Hankins as Govans Interim Pastor and established a Racial Justice Ministry Committee.

In that time, historian and longtime member of the congregation, Myra Brosius, in collaboration with the church’s Racial Justice Committee, has also been conducting extensive research about the history of the church and the grounds on which it was erected. What she found clarified that Govans, founded in 1844, nineteen years before the Emancipation Proclamation declared slavery unconstitutional, was a plantation that enslaved 30 men, women, and children of African descent. Moreover, well into the Jim Crow era, when the church had the opportunity to either integrate or erect a second church for Black, Latino, Indigenous, and Asian members, they refused to, which resulted in the church continuing to refuse the membership of non-white people well into the 20th century. As a result, the church remains overwhelmingly white but hopes its efforts will change not only the racial diversity of its constituency but also the consciousness of its congregation.

In early 2024, Govans began accepting proposals from community artists to design an artwork for their church that reflected their commitment to diversity. Vassor applied and received word a short time later that her design, Sanctuary City Parts I and II, two eight-foot-tall acrylic panels shaped like gothic stained glass windows, had won the commission. Vassor’s two panels flank a rendition of The Consoling Christ (1888), a recognizable painting created by German artist Bernhard Plockhorst, installed on the wall behind the pulpit, which overlooks the sanctuary. The copy featured in Govans’s stained glass window is known as Christ the Consoler and is distinguished by the inscription,

“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest,” as well as a dedication in remembrance of a major contributor to the church’s early renovations, Anna Graeme Turnbull. Coupled with Plockhorst’s work, Vassor’s panels create a dynamic triptych that references gothic and contemporary architectural motifs. With this commission, Sanctuary City Parts I and II represent the only artwork in the sanctuary that depicts non-white people.

During the opening ceremony, Vassor shared a moving speech that clarified who the work depicts, including Baltimore activists Lillian Kim, Lucille Gorham, and Pauli Murray, as well as those lost to police brutality, including Korryn Gaines and Freddie Gray. Vassor also acknowledged the names of the enslaved families who, up to that point, had not been publicly acknowledged by the church.

“The mural’s panels acknowledge that Govans is situated on lands that were formerly part of a plantation, as illustrated by the map integrated into the gothic arches. This map delineates the perimeter of the land granted to William Govane by John Hopkins. At the top of each arch, the names of thirty enslaved individuals are prominently displayed: Dick, Mirigo, Davy, Tom, Solomon, Sue, Sal, Abigail, Jenny, Rachel, Cassie, Joshua, George, Juno, Peter, Elick, Little Elick, Sam, Abraham, Daniel, Victor, Nell, Nan, Kate, Cato, Charles, Isaac, Juda, Phillis, and Hagar…I am truly grateful for this opportunity. Each of these panels encapsulates Baltimore as a sanctuary city, embodying the unity and collective protection shared among its residents,” Vassor stated. 

Govans Presbyterian Church is a rare example of an institution that boldly stands up against oppression, injustice, and the proliferation of historical violence against Black, Latino, Asian, Indigenous, and LGBTQ-identifying communities. By celebrating models of radical love instead of divisiveness, the church can promote how art as activism can enact systemic, policy, and legislative change in and beyond Baltimore City.

The post Confronting The Most Segregated Hour appeared first on Baltimore Beat.

Hall of Fame Inductees

Thommy Davis

Maysa

DJ Technics

Tim Trees

Tracy Stafford-Smith

Wayne Davis/The Paradox

Larry Whaddup

Wendel Patrick

DDm

Phil Crump

Tank

Miss Tony (posthumous)

Dukey Man (posthumous)

K Swift Award

Porkchop

Unruly

Ducky Dynamo

Run It Up Jordan 

Mighty Mark

Kai McFly

Buckshot

Neek B

Derrick Ooh Jones Service Award

Grace Love

Artivist of The Year 

DJ Squirrel Wyde

Art Educator of The Year

TSU Terry

Athlete of The Year 

Angel Reese 

Baltimore Excellence Award 

Angel Reese 

Band of The Year

Eat The Cake Band

Barber of The Year 

SlimDaBarber

Battle Rapper of The Year

Apex Tha Genius

Bike Life Award

Undarated Mark

Bookstore of The Year 

Urban Reads 

Business of The Year 

Mogul Printing 

Baltimore’s Best Carry Out

Sunny’s

Chef of The Year 

Chef Rock 

Clothing Boutique of The Year

Classic Consigns by Kys 

Best Clothing Line

Waaah Lifestyle Brand

Comedian of the Year

Jess Hilarious 

Creative of the Year 

Akio Evans

Crown Them Now Award

MUMU FRESH 

Dancer of the Year 

King Q 

DJ of The Year 

Porkchop

Duo of the Year

K Mack & J Funk 

Entrepreneur of the Year 

YG Teck 

Establishment of the Year Award 

Upton Boxing Gym 

Event of the Year

Park Heights Reunion 

Event Curator of the Year

TV Biddy 

Event Host of the Year 

Cue Reckless 

Fashion Designer of the Year

Elena Siri 

Foundation Award 

Unruly 

Genius Award 

Timothy Fletcher 

Graphic Designer of the Year 

RED DESYGNZ

Group of the Year

Down By Law 

Hairstylist of the Year 

Pretty Girl Fun Lab 

Hip Hop Artist of the Year-Female 

2Raww

Hip Hop Artist of the Year-Male 

YG Teck 

House Music Award

DJ Spen

Impact Award 

Ayo Shag and TSU Flash 

Innovator Award 

B 360

Baltimore’s Best Landmark/Attraction 

Graffiti Alley 

Make Up Artist of the Year 

Star Faces 

Manager of the Year

Xtravagant Dad

Media Award 

Bmore Wrap Review 

Movement of the Year

Purple Wallstreet 

Musician of the Year 

Brandon Woody

Best New Artist

Lu Boogie 

Open Mic of the Year 

The Vibe Check 

Organization of the Year 

Ballet After Dark

Photographer of the Year

Tut 

Podcast of the Year 

Bmore4Real

Poet of the Year 

Black Chakra 

Promoter of the Year 

TV Biddy

Producer of the Year

Mighty Mark 

Public Servant of the Year

Grace Love 

Best Radio Show Personality 

Porkchop 

Best Radio Show 

Quicksilva Morning Show

Best Ravens Player

Lamar Jackson 

Renaissance Man of the Year

Akio Evans 

Renaissance Woman of the Year

Rebecca Dupas 

Restaurant of the Year 

Papi Cuisine 

Retail Store of the Year 

City of Gods

Song of the Year 

“Let’s Get It” by Run It Up Jordan 

Special Appreciation Award 

The Floaters

Special Acknowledgment Award

Alvin Gray

Studio of the Year

Compound Studios 

Supporter of the Year

Charm City Live Music 

Talent to Watch 

Nu Blacc

Tattoo Artist of the Year

Ace Boog

Under the Radar Award

DreamGirlz

Best Underground Release

“Cook’s Lane” by Mook Ali

The Wellness Award 

Do The Bike Thing

Writer/Author of the Year 

Black Chakra

Vendor of the Year 

Raven Crystals 

Venue of the Year

Motor House

Videographer of the Year

Byrd Eyes View 

Visual Artist of the Year 

Megan Lewis 

Vocalist of the Year 

Davon Fleming

Youth Artist of the Year 

Lor Xay Xay

Youth Entrepreneur of the Year

Nyame Fatiu

The post 2024 Baltimore Crown Award Winners. appeared first on Baltimore Beat.

Best Place to Learn: Justice Thurgood Marshall Amenity Center

It’s no wonder Rev. Dr. Alvin C. Hathaway Sr. looks to this historic building (once the elementary school of civil rights great Thurgood Marshall) as the “hub” of its West Baltimore community. The Justice Thurgood Marshall Amenity Center, which opened its doors this July, has education opportunities for visitors of all ages, with hopes of making learning more accessible to locals. In addition to guest lecturers and first-run movie showings in a state-of-the-art theater, visitors can take advantage of free courses on the likes of public health and aviation, among other things.

Best Cultural Hub: City Of Gods 

City Of Gods, run by Mashari Ingram and Keshia Newman-Ingram, has been a staple in the Hollins Market neighborhood since 2009. More than just a clothing store, City Of Gods is a place to build community and meet new faces. You’ll never know who will come through. From rappers like T Savage to two-time Time Magazine cover photographer Devin Allen, City Of Gods has a very diverse community full of all the who’s who in Baltimore. 

Best: The Kids Are Alright Award

In our current semi-apocalyptic-hellscape, finding hope and finding joy isn’t easy. Many folks have negative things to say about Baltimore (See Dietz further below) and Baltimore’s young people. 

We wanted to highlight the work of five Baltimore-based youth groups and organizations, which illustrate the talent, creativity, and promise of the next generation of Baltimoreans.

If you are ever searching for moments of brightness and hope, look no further than the existence and work of Charm Lit Mag, Writers In Baltimore Schools, Wide Angle Youth Media, New Generation Scholars, and The Community School. 

Having faith in humanity can leave you feeling pretty jaded; these young people are working to ensure we have a future. Support them if you can with donations!

Wide Angle Youth Media

You might recognize WAYM from the work that they’ve done with our Youth Voter Guides and various Beat photostories (and the cover of the issue you are holding!). According to its mission statement, the organization, founded in 2000, collaborates with and amplifies the voices of Baltimore youth through media arts education to engage audiences across social divides.

CHARM: Voices of Baltimore Youth

CHARM: Voices of Baltimore Youth is a literary arts organization founded on the belief that young people’s contributions and choices matter. Their mission is to help young people develop as writers and amplify their voices through publication.  

Since 2014, they’ve published 10 Lit Mag yearly anthologies featuring student writing and artwork edited by a youth editor. They also offer workshops, classes, and digital publications. 

Their summer publishing internship places local young people at local publishing, media, and bookstore sites across the city. The Beat was happy to host an intern this year.

New Generation Scholars

New Generation Scholars is a youth-led leadership program aimed at empowering a dynamic cohort of Baltimore City youth, ages 13 to 21, who are the next generation of thinkers, educators, scholars, artists, activists, and social entrepreneurs. 

The New Generation Scholars Young Artist Archival Fellowship is a program of Muse 360, an intergenerational organization founded by Sharayna Ashanti Christmas in 2004 to radically develop Baltimore youth’s use of their voice and creative talents in pursuit of knowledge of self.

You can read more about NGS’s Young Artist Archival Fellowship here. When we return from our printing break, look forward to additional content from the 2024 cohort.

The application for their Young Artist Archival Internship is now open!

Writers In Baltimore Schools

Writers in Baltimore Schools (WBS) produces authentic, insightful, and creative poems from young people that are frequently printed on the back of the Baltimore Beat. WBS provides a community of support for young writers by building literacy skills and empowering them to express themselves. As a teaching newspaper, in the words of our Editor-in-chief, we are honored to partner with WBS here at Baltimore Beat. 

The Community School (TCS)

The Community School is a unique academic and mentoring high school for young people in Baltimore. Since its founding, TCS has worked with hundreds of students, helping them stabilize their lives, advance their education, and go on to college. Many donate their time and energy to TCS in recognition of the students’ promise and brilliance.

There is a multimedia studio that produces an impressive weekly newscast. TCS students are critical thinkers who are intellectually curious and creative because of their safe, supportive, and comfortable yet rigorous environment. With an enrollment of under 20 students and led by Tom Culotta, who started the school in 1982, it represents a beacon of community education in Baltimore; each TCS class comprises students who will be diligent, thoughtful, and engaged leaders.

Best Comeback: Stem & Vine and Viva Books Temporary Hybrid Retail Location 

On September 29, a terrifying boom erupted through downtown Baltimore. An underground explosion and fire left over 3000 customers without power, Wi-Fi, or cable. The blast also decimated the interior of Viva Books on the 300 block of N. Charles Street and caused structural damage to Stem & Vine.

The cause of the fire is still unknown, and many worried about the block of retailers that were the most impacted by this freak accident. What would become of Viva Books and Stem & Vine specifically? 

But not too long ago, a ray of hope emerged from the corner of N. Charles and W. Madison Street. A display of greenery, books, and bottles of spirits adorned the space that formerly held Studio 7, a hybrid location that had arisen like the ashes of a phoenix. 

Stem & Vine, the Black-owned plant and retail concept store owned by Quincy Goldsmith, and Viva Books, had trellised a new temporary venture together. Although the new space was temporary, it reflected the resiliency of our city’s creative community.

Best People To See At A Party: Celestial Spaces Harm Reduction

Celestial Spaces is a volunteer-run Maryland-based harm reduction group. If you’ve been to an event with a DJ, a rave, or our Summer Jam Fundraiser, you might have seen their display, a white presentation board with bowls of candy, condoms, and Narcan. Their mission is to provide harm reduction, making sure that partygoers who choose to use illegal substances do so in a safer way. 

With Beat staff having personally lost friends to drug overdoses and knowing that this group exists and is working to provide “celestial spaces where the community can flourish through overdose prevention and education,” we feel a bit of optimism and faith.

Biggest Sigh of Relief: Artist Charles Mason III Has a New Kidney 

It takes courage to reach out for help. But when doctors told Charles Mason III that his kidneys were failing and that he would soon need a transplant, the Baltimore artist was forced to be vulnerable. In March, after beginning the evaluation process to receive a living kidney donor, Mason penned a moving open letter to explain the situation to his network. They were instantly supportive. Within five months, he received a living donor. And by August 14, 2024, he had a new kidney. We couldn’t be more thrilled for the young artist, who has plans to be a further advocate for those in need of transplants in the future.

Best Stationary Store: The Paper Herald

The Paper Herald’s tagline, “stationary for the modern life,” evocatively describes the feeling you get when you step across its threshold. There are stacks of paper day planners, multicolored pens, other writing instruments, stickers, candles, cards, and more. The displayed items indicate days of a more analog past that we can revisit in our highly digitized existence. 

Located in Mt. Vernon, the shop has been offering a curated selection of goods inspired by the owner’s travels, from stationery to books and other gifts, since 2021. It is the perfect place for stationery, journaling, and writing enthusiasts. 

The shop will host its first planner retreat in January and frequently offers workshops and classes. In the meantime, we recommend you stop by and peruse the shop. It will be hard to leave without purchasing something. 

Best Love Story: Keith and Kelly Davis

This resilient Baltimore couple is proof that true love conquers all. Eight years ago, Keith Davis Jr. was wrongfully accused of shooting and killing a Pimlico Race Course security guard. Early last year, after four trials and seven-and-a-half excruciating years behind bars, he was able to walk free when Baltimore’s newly-elected State’s Attorney Ivan Bates dismissed all charges against him. 

Through everything, his wife Kelly remained his fiercest advocate. Since Keith came home last winter, Kelly’s followers on X have been ecstatic to see snippets of their life with their four children. We’re excited to see what the future holds for these two lovebirds, and we wish them all the happiness.

Best “We Got This”: Tendea Family

Elijah Miles, aka “Chairman Elijah,” was raised on Monument and Glover Street. He knew early on that, starting with himself, it would take members of his community to create the change needed to protect women, reduce violence, and change the cultural narrative of low-income Black neighborhoods often exploited by most mainstream media outlets and HBO fetish trauma. Tendea Family can be found doing everything from block cleanups to serving as violence interrupters with their after-school patrol to mediate conflict. In a day where most are waiting for elected officials and a historically corrupt police department to make change, Tendea Family is a shining example that we can all boldly Be The Change. We’re loving watching them grow right now.

The post Best (and Worst) of Baltimore 2024: For the Culture appeared first on Baltimore Beat.

Here are our picks for some of the best (and worst) moments in our city’s vibrant arts and culture scene, including our favorite exhibitions, festivals that were (and were not) successful, dance parties, and beloved bar/venue closures. Some of these picks might surprise you — and some won’t, like BOPA.

Best Art Exhibition: Joyce Scott: Walk a Mile in My Dreams at The Baltimore Museum of Art 

This was the year of Joyce J. Scott, whose lustrous retrospective showcase, “Walk a Mile in my Dreams,” debuted at the Baltimore Museum of Art on March 24. Spanning the visual artist’s five-decade career, the exhibit embodied Scott’s ever-evolving signature style—often marked by the use of small, colorful beads—and singular essence through a range of bead-emblazoned, woven, wearable, and sculpted works, highlighting social justice as the throughline in her repertoire. While we were sad to see it leave the BMA over the summer, we were absolutely dazzled when Scott lent her vocal stylings to a host of jazzy numbers during a small closing performance.

Best Concert Cameo: Barack and Michelle Obama with Stevie Wonder 

On October 15, to the delight of concertgoers at CFG Bank Arena, Stevie Wonder was accompanied onstage by two extremely special guests: the former president and first lady. Fans were floored to see the “Superstition” singer joined by Barack and Michelle Obama, who encouraged the audience to vote in the upcoming presidential election. Rather fitting for a tour dubbed  ‘Sing Your Song! As We Fix Our Nation’s Broken Heart.’

Best Commencement Speaker: Stevie Wonder (again) at Johns Hopkins University 

Graduation festivities are full of excitement. This rang especially true for Johns Hopkins University graduates during a university-wide commencement ceremony on May 24. After receiving his own honorary degree from the university, Stevie Wonder wooed the crowd with a surprise performance featuring a medley of his greatest hits. 

Best Festival: Shiny Fest 

Hosted by local record label Shiny Boy Press, this carnival-style arts and culture festival—held this year on Sept. 7 at The Ottobar in Remington—was quintessential Smaltimore. While tossing bright balloons and sipping Natty Bohs, attendees danced to local acts including SLOT, and Mowder Oyal. Clowns manned the downstairs merch tables and twisted balloon animals while local goods—and shawarma eats—were sold outside. Like Shiny Boy co-founder Collin Schnikter hoped, the whole thing felt like one big “family barbecue.” 

Best Theatre Performance: Everyman Theatre’s “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” 

The whimsical set and sound design for this Shakespearean play transported the audience through time and space with details reminiscent of an 80s John Hughes film. The play ran from May 12 to June 4. It was directed by Associate Artistic Director Noah Himmelstein and adapted by Gavin Witt. 

“The creatives have outdone themselves,” wrote Lynne Menefee in her MD Theatre Guide review. “The gorgeous costumes by David Burdick are a hybrid of the bright, electric colors of the 80s and styles of the 70s, including flowery prints, macramé vests, and bellbottoms for the Rude Mechanicals and Tatiana’s fairies-in waiting.

Every detail—lighting, costuming, set design, and direction—was exceptional. Kudos to Everyman for a triumphant performance.

Best Short Film Festival: Fresh Black Films (North) from Luminal Theatre 

On August 15, Luminal Theater, a nomadic microcinema that specializes in making Black art accessible, made a stop in Baltimore to showcase the work of local Black filmmakers. The screening event introduced works from artists across the city, like Sha-Shonna Rogers, Britt Sankofa, and Victor Armani, that interrogated gender, culture, and belonging. An extra shoutout to Oreoluwa Akinyode whose film “Shining in Plain Sight” won the audience award for best film.

Most Enduring Shit Show: Baltimore Office for the Promotion of the Arts

At a June 7 press conference held at City Hall to announce the artists who would headline this year’s Artscape, Mayor Brandon Scott described his relationship with then-CEO Rachel Graham as “lovely.”

By mid-November, however, Graham was out as the head of the beleaguered nonprofit that offers arts and artist support and organizes city events like the annual Martin Luther King Day parade, Artscape, and the Baltimore Farmers Market. The move came after the group announced in September that they had run out of money. Graham and Scott engaged in a public spat (one that gave us deja vu since the last person to lead BOPA had also argued publicly with the mayor), after which Scott announced that the city would be ending its contract with BOPA.

“The financially embattled nonprofit received most of its $4.7 million budget from the city, and Scott previously acknowledged that ending the city’s relationship with the group would be ‘an intricate process’ that would require close coordination,” wrote the Baltimore Banner.
In a piece we published in July, Graham said she had high hopes for the organization and wanted to make it one that met the needs of the whole city. She only served in the job for seven months.

Worst Take: Maryland Film Festival Founder Jed Dietz

Back in May, when Baltimore Sun reporters were allowed to write arts features, the newspaper published a story about the future of The Parkway Theatre. The Station North venue was renovated in 2017 but has been in rough financial shape since. 

Jed Dietz, the founding director of the Maryland Film Festival who was also a major player in the purchase and renovation of the theater, sang a familiar song. One that relied on crime and fear as an explanation for the theater’s failure to thrive. 

“The neighborhood is a real problem,” he’s quoted as saying. “We know there is a sense of fear about visiting the city in general from people living in surrounding communities.”  

The problem is that The Charles Theater, located around the corner from the Parkway, is doing just fine. 

The Maryland Film Festival took place this year in the neighborhood that Dietz disparaged. It was vibrant, exciting, and teeming with people – some of whom live here in Baltimore and others who came from elsewhere to enjoy the event. Everyone had a good time. 

We think the Parkway is a beautiful space and we wish the best for it — and that includes leadership that values both what it is and where it is located.

Best Gallery Exhibition: Moon in Scorpio: by Megan Lewis at Galerie Myrtis

This past June, you only had to visit Galerie Myrtis in Old Goucher to be plunged into a vibrant, dazzling, and very Black world created inside Baltimore artist Megan Lewis’ oil paintings. In the works on display in Moon in Scorpio, which was on view from May 11 to June 20, Lewis said she was attempting to dive deep into the emotional inner world of her mostly male subjects.

She told  Angela N. Carroll, who interviewed her for Baltimore Beat, that she looks to her father for inspiration. She is also inspired by the people she sees as she lives her life here in Baltimore.
“The criteria for who draws her attention is wholly intuitive: something about the stance or eyes, a dark-hued complexion, or a confident swag that compels her to immortalize their likeness on canvas,” Carroll wrote about Lewis and the exhibition. “She approaches their portraits with care. They are dreamy riffs, meta-ruminations that reflect Black lives in Baltimore City.”

Best Set Design/Casting: Theater of Body Positivity in “I Will Eat You Alive”

Culturally, a lot of this year felt like a time warp in the worst way. That included popular jokes about diabetes drugs like Ozempic, wide swaths of online influencers embracing the nothing-tastes-as-good-as-skinny-feels vibe of the 90s, and, as some plus-size influencers have pointed out, a dearth of attractive plus-size offerings online and IRL. Not that fatphobia ever truly went away. Enter Katie Hileman’s “I Will Eat You Alive,” which was performed live Jan. 25 through Feb. 10 at The Voxel. 

The play is set at a dinner party attended by three fat women and held to mark one’s decision to lose weight. 

“I am always interested in shows and media that center on fat individuals because they rarely exist without making fat people the subject of ridicule or shame,” wrote S. Ireti, who reviewed the play for us in March. “This play takes those tropes and plays with them in an off-kilter way. On opening night, I watched people around me be moved to tears.”

Best Dance Party: JaySwann’s Garden Hours 

DJ/Producer JaySwann’s Garden Hours—an every-other-week gathering that’s part party, part artist’s residency—is now in its second year. Held from May through October, this gathering is a place to see and be seen if you’re a young creative in Baltimore. It’s held in Current Space’s lush outdoor Garden Bar during the warm months of May through October. Each Garden Hours begins with a set from JaySwann, before transitioning to a different guest DJ. Kotic Couture, S.DOT, Kade Young, Cadeem LaMarr, have all been guest selectors. 

It felt good to have a gathering place to dance, grab food and drink specials, and shake away the stress of the week—especially one that’s free. 

The Garden Hours finale was a pure spectacle. The space was transformed into a vibrant, bustling hub of activity. We’ve seen dogs, people on stilts, and people from every version of Baltimore City gathering in Current Space’s backyard oasis, united by a love of music and dancing.

Best Place To Start Your Fitness Journey: MV Fitness

Stepping into MV Fitness for the first time is a surreal experience. If you close your eyes and visualize what a gym looks like, it would pale in comparison to the space. It is a repurposed elegant venue with stained glass windows, chandeliers, and marble fireplaces. 

But don’t let the gym’s gorgeous aesthetic quality fool you. MV Fitness is the place to get a severe and rigorous workout, but it is also not intimidating. MV Fitness offers relatively inexpensive memberships, class passes, and fitness classes every day. Spin on Saturdays at 9:00 a.m. with Teresa; her global soundtrack is the best way to start your weekend with purpose. 

The club is small, but that means that it becomes familiar; MV Fitness is a Black-owned gym by Guy Cragwell, who greets members by name. There is every type of equipment you might need on two floors. 

You can purchase month-to-month memberships and discounted group personal training classes. This way, you can get a head start on everyone starting their new resolution in 2025. 

The Ladies First Award: Female Emcees 

“We are living through a golden era of women in hip-hop,” Eze Jackson wrote in a piece we published in May on Black woman rappers in Baltimore. He reminded us that it was Megan Thee Stallion, not Kendrick Lamar, who took the first shot at Drake and his alleged body modification work.

The 8×10 in Federal Hill has been home to “Hip Hop at 8×10” series for some time, but an all-woman bill on April 12 drew a larger crowd than usual. For most of the history of Hip Hop, men have dominated the spotlight.

“The culture right now is very female-driven,” RegE.ruckuS, who organized the event with Sistah Dee, told Jackson. 

 Worst RIP: The Closure of The Crown

The Crown was never quite the same after the pandemic.

Divided initially between the red room and the blue room, visitors could stumble drunkenly across the seemingly unstable wooden floor from one room to the next, where two distinct offerings of music would be happening. A packed DJ night would be in one room, while a comedy night would happen next door, and a band would be playing downstairs. 

The Crown was a space that was a nucleus for the art community in Station North, but after it reopened, it was different. The walls that divided the blue and red rooms were torn down, and one unified room was created. 

But wasn’t the whole world different post-pandemic? Didn’t we all shift in unexpected ways? In August, a vague IG post announced the beloved venue would be closing permanently. Soon, we were all mourning the space where so many talented rappers, singers, performers, DJs, and photographers got their start.

“The Crown was a staple in the club scene in Baltimore and was shaped by its community,” Sydney J. Allen, the resident photographer for VERSION, wrote for Baltimore Beat.

There is a noticeable void without it and without Tony at the front door, asking for your ID.

Best Culture Keeper: I.H. Webster III

This year, we collaborated with visual artist and archivist I.H. Webster III twice: once to publish pictures from Artscapes past and once to publish photos of Baltimore Christmas celebrations from over 70 years ago. Webster is the force behind the I. Henry Photo Project—a digital archive of images shot by his grandfather, I. Henry Phillips Sr.; his father, I. Henry Phillips Jr.; and himself.

These photos highlight the beauty in the everyday, which is really what makes Baltimore so special. We are grateful to Webster that he is so eager to share his father and grandfather’s work with all of us.

Best Resurrection: Mobtown Ballroom

In January, Mobtown Ballroom, a dance venue known for its swing dance nights and plethora of diverse shows, made Station North its new home. Mobtown acquired the old North Avenue Market space on the corner of North & Maryland right as the historic Joe Squared was closing across the street. Not only did they slightly raise the main floor, turning the bar/kitchen area into more of a pit, but the pit serves healthy food options and a great remote working atmosphere with friendly baristas during the day. Never straying away from their love of nightlife, events happen on a smooth wooden floor with an updated, state-of-the-art sound system courtesy of The Crown, a legendary Station North venue that also recently closed. 

Best Pivot: Eze Jackson’s Artscape After Party

Eze Jackson’s Artscape After Party returned for the first time since 2019. An unexpected storm that caused flooding and outages throughout the city forced BOPA to call off all Saturday evening programming, including a main-stage performance by Chaka Khan. Jackson’s After Party went on as scheduled right as the storm passed. Hosted by Larry Whaddup, the lineup of DJ KeeBee, Nature Boi, Mighty Mark & Petty Penguin (who also premiered a new song “It’s Up” featuring Jackson as he closed his set) gave folks a backup plan to come out and still enjoy Artscape as the storm passed ushering in an unforgettably cool summer night. 

The post Best (and Worst) of Baltimore 2024: Arts and Culture appeared first on Baltimore Beat.

In our highly digitized worlds, photographs and archives are tools for us to remain rooted in our past as we move forward through the present. These photos were taken in Baltimore by I. Henry Phillips Sr. circa 1950. They gift us with familiar moments of Black holiday revelry and joy. Going through these images, I couldn’t help but conjure up in my mind symbols and scenes of holiday celebrations that I experienced growing up. 

The I. Henry Photo Project is a digital archive of images made by three generations of Webster men. This selection of images was curated from a virtual studio visit with the I. Henry Photo Project Archive, facilitated by I.H. Webster III, a visual artist and archivist. Webster started the archive with his father, the late I. Henry Phillips Jr., who was the Baltimore Sun’s first Black news photographer and the son of the late I. Henry Phillips Sr., a photographer at the Baltimore Afro-American Newspaper.   (Teri Henderson) 

The post Photostory: A Black Baltimore Archival Christmas appeared first on Baltimore Beat.

This story was originally published by Inside Climate News.

With Republicans on track to win control over both chambers of Congress and Donald Trump returning to the White House in January, the responsibility for keeping the clean energy transition going has passed to states. Maryland, where Democrats hold the governorship and control both chambers of the legislature, is primed to lead that charge from the front, experts and advocates believe.

“Maryland has the most aggressive short-term greenhouse gas reduction goals in the country,” said Kim Coble, executive director of the Maryland League of Conservation Voters. “We have been a leader across the nation, and fortunately, our governor is committed to being a national leader on this. So Maryland has an important and significant role to play.” 

Even so, anxiety is setting in as residents consider what a second Trump term could mean for Maryland, including the fate of billions of dollars in federal funding granted during the Biden administration for the clean energy transition. 

During a Nov. 8 cabinet meeting, Gov. Wes Moore tried to allay some of those fears when he said that his administration had been preparing for a possible Trump victory for months. “In February, I convened my advisors to begin scenario-planning for possible outcomes of the 2024 presidential election. We have worked tirelessly for months, analyzing how Donald Trump’s plans might impact Maryland,” he said, without touching upon the specifics of his plan. 

Some state legislators and environmental advocates expect the Trump administration to rescind at least some federal funding, particularly for environmental justice programs. 

“I’m sure the Trump administration is going to try and pull those [funds] away,” said Jillian Blanchard, director of the climate change and environmental program at Lawyers for Good Government, a nonprofit advocacy group. “We are tracking a lot of the environmental justice grants that didn’t go to the state, to communities within Maryland and across the country, to make sure and help those grantees get all of those funds obligated before a Trump administration takes over.”

She added that a lot of the federal funding within the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law and the Inflation Reduction Act has already been announced and is in the process of being awarded. “At that point, the funding is and should be protected under the Impoundment Control Act,” which prevents the president and other government officials from redistributing congressionally allocated funds, she said. 

The Inflation Reduction Act triggered the preparation of state-level climate plans, which required state and local governments to work together and build coalitions, Blanchard noted. Those plans can still be implemented with funding that’s already been awarded. 

“Maryland is a good example of taking strong climate action in advance,” Blanchard said, pointing out that Moore issued a wide-ranging executive order in April, directing state agencies to come up with climate implementation plans no matter what happens at the federal level. “All of that will take place regardless of federal support. The states have a lot of power to move things forward on climate and Maryland is one of them.”

Del. Lorig Charkoudian, a Democrat from Montgomery County, said that for decades, a majority of climate policy and action happened at the state level. The IRA and the Infrastructure Law were exceptions to that rule. 

“While we are devastated that we’re likely going to be going it alone, we will double down on our commitment to climate and specifically to a clean energy future grounded in good union jobs that build a middle class, and we can do that at the state level,” Charkoudian said. 

She pointed out that many components of the IRA are baked into tax structures and have been leveraged by both Republican- and Democrat-led states. “My hope is that because it’s so well structured and so effectively distributed across the entire country, that it will stay [despite political pressure],” she said.

The concern is whether funding for specific programs managed by federal agencies will continue under new appointees. “The second thing is regulations,” Charkoudian said, “for instance on emissions or in the case of home appliances,” which she said would have a significant impact on climate justice.

“Home appliances have an impact in terms of healthy housing and cost savings for people, especially low-income folks or people who’re paying a lot for their electricity bills. So I worry about that.”

Morgan Pinnell, managing director for the mid-Atlantic at Advanced Energy United, a clean energy advocacy group, said that manufacturing of electric vehicle charging infrastructure underway in the state could take a hit under the Trump administration “because they may dismantle the incentives and programs that create demand for it.” 

Maryland could also miss out on $69 million in efficiency rebates because the state agencies have not applied for it, she said, adding that another $100 million under the Grid Resilience and Innovation Partnerships award could be lost if the U.S. Department of Energy’s Grid Deployment Office doesn’t close the negotiations in the next two months. “The $62 million Solar for All grant, which is part of the Greenhouse Gas Reduction Fund from the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency, should be fine. But it’s fair to worry about Trump Administration scrutiny,” Pinnell noted in emailed comments. 

Justin Balik, senior state program director at the nonprofit Evergreen Action, said the Biden administration’s work getting IRA money out the door gives Moore “a huge opportunity to continue to drive clean energy development in the state, helping businesses and developers leverage all those tax incentives.” Some of those IRA incentives are credits and deductions on EVs, energy-efficient home improvements such as heat pumps, and clean energy projects. 

States like Maryland will also need to counter actions by an incoming administration hostile toward climate action, Balik said.

“Governors are sort of the front line of the defense strategy,” he said. “They are in a position to mobilize the business community, mobilize constituencies that are actually working on clean energy projects, to speak out in terms of what these historic investments are actually delivering for communities.”

State-led litigation was a central pillar to beat back anti-climate efforts in the last Trump term, when California and attorneys general from several other states, including Maryland, filed over 70 climate and environmental lawsuits against the federal government, he said. 

“If you go back to the George W. Bush administration, Massachusetts joined 11 other states in challenging the EPA, which resulted in the federal government being required to regulate greenhouse gas pollution,” he said. “State-led litigation, coalitions of states teaming up on legal defense, is going to be important.” 

States will also need to do more within their own borders to keep decarbonizing big sectors, from buildings and construction to power and transportation, Balik said.

“I think Gov. Moore is positioned to do that. We also know that clean energy is creating jobs and lowering costs across America, and it remains a huge economic opportunity for states to bring in new investment and economic development,” he said. “It really is going to be up to states to fight back against what we expect to be President-elect Trump’s climate denial and to accelerate their own ambition.”

The post Advocates expect Maryland to drive climate action when Trump returns to Washington appeared first on Baltimore Beat.

This story was originally published by Reckon, an award-winning national news organization that covers the people powering change, the challenges shaping our time, and what it means for all of us.

The first week of June finds me listening to the mechanical roar of passing cars along Route 15, a steady thrum over what might otherwise be a tranquil patch of forest in the eastern hills of Catoctin Mountain. They call this the unquiet place. Tires scream across asphalt, racing to climb the ramp stretching above the vernal pools and chestnut oaks calling this weary Appalachian soil home. I can barely see the highway through the sun-dappled canopy dancing in the wind overhead, but the sound is an undeniable intrusion. Extending my senses past its grating presence, I strain to focus on the vibrations of the earth. The whisper of water moving catches my ear. Leaves hshhh against each other. A mourning dove cries. Then, a truck blares its horn in the distance, drowning it all out. I have traveled about 60 miles west from my home in Baltimore City, Maryland to see this rocky soil and hear its song, pulled by a current of curiosity about Black geographies and our collective determination to hold on to the ruins of our past.

This is the soundtrack of Renner Cemetery, a forgotten burial site of an unknown number of Africans enslaved at the Catoctin Iron Furnace, a nearby historic ironworking village once sprawling across 7,000 acres of hardwood forest. After the furnace ceased operation in 1903, the cemetery sat forgotten and overgrown until a highway expansion project in 1979 excavated its 35 gravesites, 32 of them containing skeletal remains among other related artifacts. It is believed that hundreds more Black workers remain buried at the site, in a privately owned patch of forest just beyond the furnace’s current property line. Archeologists at the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History took possession of the excavated remains and may still hold them, although today some may consider this theft, as they were not acquired with informed consent. Their discovery enabled local historians to reinterpret the role that African ironworkers played in the industrial history of the United States, especially in Maryland. Their research since 2015 has confirmed that at least 271 captive workers were enslaved at the furnace between 1770s and 1840. With much still unknown about these captive workers, the project of defining their legacy continues to unfold. 

Almost fifty years after rediscovering these remains, a growing coalition of historians, biological anthropologists, archeologists, and geneticists are using today’s DNA analysis technology to study the legacy of enslavement and connect with their possible descendents. Craniometric and stable isotope analysis reveal that some of the people buried at Catoctin Furnace had West and Central African ancestry, particularly of the Wolof and Mandinka of Senegambia and the Kongo of Central Africa. It indicated that almost half of those buried in the cemetery came from the same five families. Updated pathology and demography assessments also provide deeper understanding of the pain endured by these people during their lifetimes, including birth defects, sickle cell disease, arthritis, dental decay, and spinal injuries from overworking.

I parked just off Catoctin Furnace road, dotted on both sides with original cottages preserved from the 18th century operation of the furnace. Save for a few foreboding “private property” signs, these are mostly part of the Museum of the Ironworker, immersing visitors upon arrival.

The site and its structures show the evidence of tremendous care, a feeling which follows as you walk a gravel slope leading deeper into the forest – the African-American Cemetery Interpretive Trail. Standing at the end of this half-mile walk is the silhouette of an enslaved man, an attempt to capture the invisibility of the stories of these workers whose names and stories may never be recovered.

It seems that Black histories still remain captive here at the feet of the Catoctin Mountains. I sit on a wooden bench carved with adinkra symbols and I, too, am an unquiet place. My body and mind wrestle to make meaning of this site of enslavement, reckoning as I always have with the burden and privilege of memory. The forest is determined to rewild the land at Catoctin, foliage crawling over the leftover slag and brick embedded in soil to render the Anthropocene obsolete. I wonder at our unnatural impulse to conserve as historians. So many centuries of science have been dedicated to this process – preservation. Keeping. Many cultures who don’t subscribe to this obsession have been systematically erased from existence. If nothing else, this has left their humanity intact. It is hard to find an archive today that doesn’t read as a catalog of violence.

June Jordan asks: what shall we do, we who did not die? It seems that we must adapt. We will syncretize our traditions, as Indigenous peoples have always done, in order to survive. As a Black memory worker, it is my task to listen — to the land, to the people, and to my bodymindspirit. It is my task to honor our dead and protect our living. It is my task to document history while remaining humbled and inspired by the notion that all history is fiction. As I walk well-maintained trails connecting the ironworking village ruins to the museum, I find that the legacy of enslaved African ironworkers is felt more than seen — a current buried beneath the polished veneer of historical interpretation. It comes through to me in three unforgettable channels: cultural, ecological and genealogical legacy.

Cultural Legacy

It is evident that the labor and technical skill of enslaved Catoctin Furnace workers have had an undeniable impact in the state of Maryland, despite being erased for centuries. Their knowledge of the iron production process makes the furnace stand out among countless other projects aiming to reflect the legacy of those whose ancestors were trafficked across the Atlantic into slavery. 

In Maryland alone, there are 177 known historic African-American burial grounds. The threats to these sites of enslavement, resistance and liberation prompted the Maryland Commission on African American History and Culture to take action in 2022. Working alongside preservation groups and descendent communities, they conducted a study documenting the needs of historic African-American cemeteries in the state. The resulting report made recommendations for how to best empower these legacy projects with state resources and legal protection. The report recognizes Catoctin Furnace Cemetery the “most complete cemetery of its kind associated with the early industrial history of the United States,” noting the skill that enslaved Africans had with iron. Catoctin is uplifted as a case study accompanied by photos and a watercolor illustration by artist Lucy Erwin.

In the heat of a majestic Baltimore rowhome, artist-educator Antonio Lyons tells me what he’s learned about legacy — that it is a way of protecting life and materials, a vehicle of trust between the past and the future, and a gift to the generations to come. “I think some of that is tied to age, right?” His usually playful confidence softens to something more earnest and open. “You start having these fundamental questions like, why am I here? Do I need to be here? What am I leaving behind? Do I need to leave anything behind?”

Antonio and I are part of a collective of historians, archivists, artists and organizers stewarding the legacy of prolific Baltimore artist Valerie J Maynard. He is one of many cultural workers participating in this effort, many of whom are her chosen family. Despite no genealogical ties to Maynard, this collective represents the vibrant cultural legacy of not only the artist, but the community she cultivated and the skills she shared with them.

As we spoke that morning before continuing the work of archiving Maynard’s live-work studio in Baltimore’s Station North Art District, Antonio described her legacy as a depository of knowledge, a reflection of her community bonds. “[A] culmination of a life within a community aesthetic is far more powerful, you know. It’s a lot richer thing to leave behind.” That her memory and her contributions to the world have brought together so many beautiful stories, organizations and collaborators both during and after her lifetime, is what cultural legacy feels like. Working with the foundation taught me this and allows me to recognize it in the Catoctin project in nearby Frederick County.

Historians believe that ironworkers were stolen into slavery not at random, but because of the scientific knowledge they had developed in their homeland – iron production. This knowledge was transferred into the United States through the transatlantic slave trade, where it became a core part of the Industrial Revolution. Recentering the contributions of the enslaved to this industrial period allows us to see more clearly the cultural impact of African ironworkers. Theirs is a legacy of technical and technological innovation, recorded clearly in the catalog of violence known as the archive. It is a legacy that has quite literally moved mountains and continues to do so through the collective efforts of a state-wide network of organizers, many volunteering or underpaid for their time. These efforts are evidence that these stories matter deeply to the local community in Frederick County and to folks engaging in Black cemetery projects across the country. Witnessing the passion of this group of people during my own visit this summer seeded hope in the weary soil of my own mind. In my head, a voice echoes softly, love is the legacy.

Ecological Legacy

The geology of what is today known as Catoctin Mountain Park has been creating a welcoming environment for human use since our species has inhabited this land. According to the National Park Service, the peoples of the Piscataway and Susquehannock tribes were first attracted to the Catoctin stone formations ideal for making arrowheads, knives and other tools. Springs served as important sources of water for these early American Indians and later, the settlers who would name the land Maryland. The establishment of the colonies and the following industrial period made the area a focal point for industry, agriculture, and hunting.

The operation of an iron furnace like Catoctin has a legacy far beyond its impact on human life. It also changes the natural environment – in over a century of operation, thousands of acres of trees were cleared and burned to make the charcoal used to turn ore into pig iron. Research indicates that massive deforestation may not be the only legacy of these industrial sites. Soils tested from around similar iron furnace sites dotting the Pennsylvania countryside showed elevated levels of manganese – in some, almost 17 times the naturally occurring amount. This amount of pollution can harm vegetation and be toxic for many species of trees, especially saplings. “Even if the sources of manganese pollution are no longer active,” said Elizabeth Herdon, lead researcher of the 2010 study, “the remnants remain in the soil. We need to consider the kinds of contamination left over from the past that might impact us today.”

The 2009 Catoctin Mountain Park Geologic Resources Inventory Report indicates that there is a noticeable difference between the vegetation near the furnace and the vegetation elsewhere in the park. Soil surveys show that soils on the eastern slope of Catoctin Mountain are “acidic, thin, sandy loams with high permeability”, and only able to support a few tree species. On the other side of the park, the soil is deeper and more moist, orange and rich in minerals. These soils can support a wider variety of tree species, including sugar maple, basswood, hickories, white ash, beech and tulip poplar.

Though industrial iron production ended as the furnace closed in 1903, humans continued to build dams, bridges, camps, roads and other developments that created air and water pollution. The former furnace’s 7,000 acres sat idle until 1936, when the National Park service took ownership and began to remediate some of the environmental degradation caused by iron production. Since then, attempts have been made to restore the natural processes and features that were present at Catoctin Mountain prior to the furnace operation and to make the landscape accessible to the public. According to the National Park Service, the Works Progress Administration (WPA), part of President Roosevelt’s New Deal, conducted the initial restoration efforts. The New Deal was responsible for many of the historic structures within the park, as well as planting as many as 5,000 trees – red maples, pitch pines and other native species.

While there are no recent surveys of Catoctin Furnace soil available that confirm whether or not manganese pollution may be a lasting ecological legacy of this site of enslavement, it is clear that the natural world is hell bent on reclaiming the forest. Trees, young and persistent, seem to perch over stone furnace stacks, waiting for a chance to swallow them whole. With the Biden-Harris administration pledging $725 million to clean up legacy pollution nationwide earlier this summer, the question of ecological legacy looms equally large over the Catoctin project, despite most of their capacity being focused on cultivating their descendent community.

Genealogical Legacy

Though a recent study by the Catoctin Historical Society in partnership with 23andMe identified 2,975 people living today who are significantly related to the families buried in the forgotten cemetery over 150 years ago, strikingly little is known about what happened to the enslaved families after 1840. Forensic evidence suggests that a high concentration of closely related possible descendants may still reside in Maryland, suggesting that some may have stayed in the region. Property and land grant titles suggest that the African ironworkers could have been transferred to nearby Antietam Ironworks further west in Maryland. Building a descendent community to co-steward this project with the Catoctin Furnace Historical society may surface documents, oral histories, and family trees that tell a fuller story.

“Sometimes it takes seeing something tangibly and interacting with folks tangibly to understand the impact of what actually happened in the place,” descendent communicator, Hess Stinson, explains to me over the phone. “Some of the lore around the area was that it was mostly almost always settled by people of purely European descent. And when these ancestors’ bones came up, it really showed the proof.” 

Stinson works with the Catoctin Furnace Historical Society to cultivate and structure the descendent community and guide them into a position of power alongside the other historians in the Catoctin Furnace Historical Society. Since January, Stinson has made space to listen to community members, connect them to the resources they need, and of course, connect them to each other. So far, the Catoctin Furnace Descendants Group has grown steadily as community members receive ancestry results. 

Identifying these descendants is a critical part of what Stinson calls the co-stewardship model. “We’re looking for these people so they can help shape the future of the Catoctin Furnace Historical Society…this place is part of their legacy.” Stinson admits it is rare that descendants of the enslaved participate in the historical interpretation and strategic visioning for these kinds of research institutions. The perspective of Black community members, especially those who may still live locally and have a relational understanding to the place, seems to be what is needed most to address the archival erasure of African ironworkers.

“I just believe [it’s important] because there are, right now, people want to erase our history and they want to control the narrative of how it’s being told. And I think it’s important for us to be…able to tell the truth.” says Mrs. Donna Nelson, a Catoctin Furnace Descendants group member who spoke with myself and my colleague Danielle Buckingham during our oral history collection this summer. Sitting on creaky rocking chairs inside a period room of the Collier House, it felt as if we had time traveled to have this conversation in 1820. Mrs. Nelsons words would have been just as true then as they are today.

As of June, 23andMe has begun to analyze the genetic data of community members in the group to confirm who is significantly related to the enslaved Catoctin families buried at Renner. Their technique is different from other sites like MyTrueAncestry, where inconsistencies in results have left community members like Watu Mwariama unsure about the accuracy of the results. 

Doubtful of the technology and those who wield it, Mwariama understands his possible connection to Catoctin through family oral histories passed down to him. Growing up his grandmother would tell him of ancestors who used to work in and around Frederick and warned him of the racial terror she endured there. As a boy, he had his own experiences with white supremacist violence in the areas surrounding the Catoctin Mountain Park and felt uneasy even joining us on site at the oral history collection. Braving the intergenerational aversion to the ironworking village, he joined us in the surprisingly spacious log cabin to share his dreams for the legacy project. 

“I think at the very least that an effort has to be made to contact the families of the deceased. And once that has been done and exhausted, I think that the next thing to do is to have a memorial service…they would have to have to have to be given some kind of reverence and something respectful of our traditions,” says Mwariama.

“I would like to see that they are honored and that they preserve it to truly who they are…” Mrs. Donna echoes. “I wanna see something going on like the Kunta Kinte Festival in Annapolis here— let us have more African [descendants].” 

Critics like Michael Blakey, a professor and thought leader who also led the New York African Burial Ground Memorial Project in Manhattan in the 1990s, warn that genetic analysis can reflect racist biological determinism and masquerade subjective results as objective truth. While this concern is shared by Catoctin descendent group members who feel the uncertain data may leave them behind as this legacy project moves forward, Stinson assures me that other forms of memory keeping will be honored too. 

“We’re also welcoming folks who have that substantiated family, oral history of saying like, hey, you know, my grandmother said we’re from here, you know… we’re also recognizing people who do other means of connection and lineage tracing too of not genetics…bibles, any kind of paperwork that folks have or any kind of story that folks have, we are honoring that as well.”

Just a month after visiting Catoctin, I traveled south to the quiet riverside town my grandmother grew up in before migrating to the Bronx in the 60s. I met cousins I had never seen before, people who were just as passionate about our family legacy as I am, who had been gathering their own research for years. One cousin, Ruben, took me to Berry Hill Resort, the former plantation that my ancestors lived and worked on, substantiated by both my family tree and a book about the plantation sold at the local tourism office. I begged Ruben to take me to the cemetery where our ancestors still rested, at the end of an overgrown trail a mile into the forest. He insisted it was too hot, too far, too unkempt to make the journey that day. Another time, he promised. It was, in fact, 102 degrees that day, but the heat rising in my cheeks told me that I would have braved any temperature to connect with my ancestors in that way. My frustration was not with him, but with a discipline that would preserve an ostentatious granite mansion built through slave labor as a profitable resort while carelessly letting the cabins and fields my ancestors made into homes and sacred burial sites waste away.

Even if it is the unnatural impulse to preserve that sets up the problematic dynamic, my criticism doesn’t absolve me of the feeling. We all live shaped by the brutal legacy of slavery and colonialism, whether or not DNA testing affirms our connection to those buried at these sites of economic production. Maryland isn’t the only unquiet place. We must bear the burden and privilege of remembering or of forgetting.

The Catoctin story is unique and yet familiar, a case study of why Black and queer historians are uniquely equipped to contend with the discipline of history itself. Our positionality gives us the gift of imagination – the will and skill to speculate new ways of conducting the process of preservation. History as we know it is a field of study shaped by white supremacy, colonialism and biological determinism. For centuries, historians have used documentation (and the lack thereof) to form the intellectual basis for the theft and accumulation of resources that has led us to a planet nearly laid barren by consumption, war and pollution. Now, contrary to the wise words of TLC, we must chase waterfalls. How will practices of preserving our culture, our stories, our and our memories continue without relying on the “rivers and lakes that we’re used to”? In other words, what does legacy look like beyond Confederate statues, forgotten graves and individualist narratives of heroism? How do we remember beyond the archive? What is most valuable to us now? In this pivotal cultural moment, new methods are being born of necessity, ones which integrate forms of study from Western traditions and attention to relationality and ecology from Indigenous research methodologies. Ones which reach back to go forward. Yes, there will be some histories that we don’t keep. What remains then is a bone-deep sense of truth — that our legacy will always be the living. 

“won’t you celebrate with me 

what I have shaped into a kind of life? 

I had no model 

born in Babylon 

both nonwhite and woman 

what dd I see to be except myself? I made it up 

here on this bridge between starshine and clay, 

my one hand holding tight my other hand; come celebrate 

with me that everyday 

something has tried to kill me 

and has failed” 

— Lucille Clifton, 1993 

Do you have ancestors buried at Catoctin Furnace? Connect with the other descendants and join the movement to resurface the legacy of Black ironworkers in Frederick County, MD on Facebook and reach out to info@catoctinfurnace.org with any inquiries.

The post Our legacy is the living — Preserving the history of the Catoctin ironworkers appeared first on Baltimore Beat.

I’m lounging on a sexy golden sofa, sipping something robust, sweet, and rum-forward. The cocktail is a work of art, crimson-tinged with a crisp stroke of blue algae brushed along the inside curve of the coupe glass to accentuate its cool. The category is classic beauty. I soak in the quiet chatter and sweet giggles of young professionals and artsy peers dressed in their best fits, enjoying the respite of the workday’s end. The scene could have been clipped out of a spread for Ebony photographed by Anthony Barboza or Kwame Brathwaite. Our collective joy buzzes off the wood and brick walls, beams like the sunlight shining through the towering windows. The ceilings are high enough for us to stand tall, lofty as the peace we feel in each other’s company. Rum and laughter warm my chest. There is nothing like being nourished by community and sharing space with those who see you and want you to feel seen.

Have you visited Mama Koko’s yet? The concept cafe and cocktail bar is the latest venture from veteran restauranteurs Ayo Hogans and Angola Selassie located on the first floor of the historic James E. Hooper House in Old Goucher. If you’ve lived in the region for a while, you would likely have visited their flagship eatery, Grind House Juice Bar, later rebranded The Green House Juice Cafe, in Charles Village, grabbed a bite at their sister location at Towson University, or popped into Flourish (now on Harford Rd), a boutique managed by Nilajah Brown that once operated at the front of The Green House Juice Cafe.  Soulful plant-based cuisine has long been a staple food option on the St. Paul corridor for decades. OGs will remember Chef Skai’s venture, The Yabba Pot, which occupied the same venue in the early 2000s.  Hogans and Selassie’s spin on vegetarian cuisine presented a straightforward, eat-on-the-go plant-based menu with fresh smoothies and vegan treats. Mama Koko’s offers a culinary and conceptually elevated experience. The added perk is that the cafe is located just a few blocks from their previous address. 

Think grown and sexy meets casual neighborhood hub with small plates, craft coffee, artisan cocktails, and mocktails at reasonable prices. The menu and the layout, which hosts two bars, a lounge, and covered outdoor seating, are designed to suit a broader palette that pays homage to southern Creole, French, and West African flavor profiles. The venue is inspired by Angola’s mother, Dr. Kokahvah Zauditu-Selassie, lovingly called Mama Koko, and celebrates her iconic style, incredible world travels, and their family’s powerful legacy.

“We wanted a space that would allow an experience for people to be able to slow down, sit down, socialize, show off their fits, meet some new folks, and that way, we could have a platform for an exchange of ideas.”

“Our last location was quite small, and because of the size constraints, it only allowed a to-go experience,” Angola shared. “We wanted a space that would allow an experience for people to be able to slow down, sit down, socialize, show off their fits, meet some new folks, and that way, we could have a platform for an exchange of ideas.”

The 33-room mansion was initially constructed for James Edward Hooper in 1886, who made his fortune by manufacturing duck cotton fabric in Baltimore. After he died in 1908, the house hosted various businesses until it fell into disrepair. It was purchased in 2018 by co-owners Matt Oppenheim and Mick Mier, who sought to turn the valuable property into a mixed-use space for artists and small ventures. The building survived a fire in 2022, and after years of critical renovations to maintain the original charm and historic architecture, the Hooper House recently reopened to the public. Hogans and Selassie leased the first floor for Mama Koko’s and a room on the second floor for The salon. Since last month’s soft opening, both projects have been very well received.

The couple wanted the space to feel like home. Their attention to detail is what makes sitting for a spell at Mama Koko’s such a treat. Their familial archive is the foundational decor. Cotton plumes and eucalyptus bundles billow out of vintage vases tucked into the corners of windowsills and set as intentional centerpieces on tables. Archival black-and-white ancestral portraits line the built-in bookshelves and overlook the nooks of both bars.

“All of these elements are my mother’s favorite elements,” Selassie continued. “They reflect her stories, travels, aspirations, and our family history in a very individual-specific sense, as well as a larger, collective sense… We wanted to promote global and African solidarity and internationalism as a whole. And we wanted the cotton to acknowledge those in the North American continent, the children of the cotton, and then place them in conversation with those in Brazil and Jamaica and Martinique, the children of the sugarcane, the rum.”

The recipes they feature in their evening rotating menu are intergenerational staples that have fed the cafe’s namesake and Mama Koko’s kin for generations: delicious small plates of red beans and rice, collard greens, roasted sweet potatoes, vegan and meat protein options. I cleaned my plate of greens and red beans and rice, humming and rocking as I ate, which we all know is the universal language for, “damn, this is good.” Their lunch menu reflects some of the dishes that made The Green House Juice Cafe famous, including yummy smoothies, yogurt bowls, and kale salads, and their new offerings include po’boys, smashed burgers, and Cajun shrimp and grits.

Mama Koko’s offers something to appeal to most palettes and lifestyles. During the day, teleworkers can bring their laptops, take meetings, and luxuriate in a relaxed environment with artisan offerings. When the clock strikes 6 p.m., the cafe transforms into an appealing bar and lounge; lights are dimmed, and candles are placed on each table. If you are still working at that hour, don’t be surprised if a member of their staff politely taps you on the shoulder and asks you to put the laptop away. They want to set a mood that inspires connection, community, and conversation. 

What a novel idea.

“I was a vegan for over 20 years, and in the last few years, for personal reasons, I am no longer vegan,” Ayo noted. “So, I wanted to offer more diverse food that is still healthy, fresh, and well-prepared food. But we still have many vegan options as well,” she added. “If you and your friends come and somebody is pescatarian, and someone else eats meat or is vegan, you can all get something here. The menu is definitely diasporic. It’s light bites. The food is good, but we’re not focused solely on the food,” Hogans continued. “We are focused on the whole experience, the vibe, the feeling you feel when you come in. It’s simple but delicious.”

Upstairs, on the second floor of the lush mansion, you will find The Salon at Mama Koko’s. If you peek inside, you will likely find Mama Koko sitting on her settee, surrounded by threads, beads, and books, calmly working on her coveted bracelets, writing her memoir, or reading. Lounge chairs are arranged in the round in front of her so visitors feel welcome to converse while shopping. Many will visit The Salon because they recognize the matriarch from the celebrated documentary “In Our Mothers’ Gardens,” directed by Shantrelle P. Lewis.

Others will visit to sit at the feet and learn from Dr. Kokahvah Zauditu-Selassie, a literary scholar, friend and colleague of Toni Morrison, retired professor of English at Coppin State University, and author of countless essays and seminal books, including “African Spiritual Traditions in the Novels of Toni Morrison” (2009) and her recent novel, “The Second Line” (2024).  

Those unfamiliar with who she is or her esteemed legacy will visit because of the beautiful space she has curated for herself and her community. 

“I have always made and sold things, and I have always been literary,” Mama Koko shared. “I was thinking about Virginia Woolf’s “A Room of One’s Own,” and I always wanted a space where I could create. So, I created a literary salon as a place where I could leave my house and write without the interference of distractions. And when I came back from the African Cup of Nations soccer tournament in Abidjan, Côte d’Ivoire, I decided I wanted to open up a store like the Salon de Clamart that the Nardal sisters founded in Paris in the 1930s.”

Her clothing line, Yacine Diouf, is prominently featured in the intimate boutique. Mama Koko named the collection after her 10-year-old mentee, who resides in Dakar, Senegal, and hopes the gesture will inspire the child to achieve great things. The Salon includes many rare items sourced worldwide from Black women artisans, including raw fabric, dresses, bags, and Issa Gray’s exclusive jewelry line, IRE AJE. 

Mama Koko’s and The Salon pride themselves on being family-operated businesses dedicated to curating uplifting, community-oriented experiences. 

“I think people are deprived of love,” Mama Koko counseled. “People don’t really care about people in the ways that they should care. We work hard, and we are very intentional and very protective of having a space where people come in and feel welcome… We are maximizing their feeling of comfort. It’s not an industry model. We have a different business, aesthetic, and cultural model here. They not like us.”

The post Have you visited Mama Koko’s? It’s a vibe. appeared first on Baltimore Beat.

In a small office inside the Baltimore Office of Promotion of Arts’ downtown base, there’s a treasure trove of images and artifacts from decades’ worth of Artscape celebrations. In boxes and folders, stacked up in piles, there are photos of large art pieces, of past mayors, and of generations of families strolling through the festival. 

Barbara Hauck, BOPA’s communications manager, estimates that they have thousands of images in various formats.

“The ’80s are mostly 35mm slides — we have multiple binders full of them. For the ’90s, we have about 207 sheets each with [about] five strips of negatives. Each strip has 5-6 pictures. Ballpark that’s over 5,000 images.” 

The organization doesn’t yet have a count for how much of the other Artscape paraphernalia they are in possession of — that includes things like programs, postcards, staff badges, and more. 

This year marks Baltimore’s 40th Artscape celebration. The festival will be held August 2-4 and feature performances from Sheila E. and Chaka Khan, fashion shows, film screenings, and more.

Hauck said that she began thinking about the cache of memorabilia when she realized that this year would be a milestone celebration. She hopes to eventually have everything digitized and made accessible to the public.

“When I realized this was the 40th Artscape, I started poking around to see what I could find for the newsletter. It was the public art pieces that got me. It occurred to me that these photos are the only evidence that these incredible creations ever existed and that lit a fire,” she said. 

“I think preserving and protecting our cultural history are super important. Besides, this history doesn’t belong to BOPA, it belongs to Baltimore.”

1982

1985

1989

1994

1995

1996

1998

2002

2016

The post Photostory: Artscape through the years appeared first on Baltimore Beat.