Reel Freedom

This week in North Philly Notes, Alyssa Lopez, author of Reel Freedom, writes about the development of Black film culture in New York City throughout the early twentieth century.

In 2013, I was sitting in a dark classroom illuminated by only a projector. The professor was screening scenes from D.W. Griffith’s The Birth of a Nation (1915), a deeply influential film that hinged on a racist interpretation of the Civil War and Reconstruction. In the class’s discussion of the response to the film, particularly from African Americans, we talked briefly about the development of a Black-oriented cinema called race films and the famed and prolific race filmmaker Oscar Micheaux. I had so many more questions than we had time to talk through; I left the class intent on finding answers. And so, Reel Freedom comes from a desire to know more and to understand, really, the significance of film.

Over the course of ten years of searching, asking even more questions, and learning to bend to the contours of what the sources were trying to say, I found answers that pushed me to consider not just the power of film, but the very people who shape, consume, showcase, and report on the medium. I quickly realized that to talk about “film,” you must also talk about “film culture.” As a reflection of that, Reel Freedom looks at Black film culture—that is, theaters, moviegoing, censorship, labor, and journalism—as it developed in New York City throughout the early twentieth century.

Recasting this moment (and place!) in American history known most commonly for the Harlem Renaissance, I work to showcase how Black New Yorkers used Black film culture to claim the city as their own, to make space for themselves in cultural and social spaces hostile to their presence. They tried to keep theaters in Harlem accountable to their interests and needs; used those same theaters for activities other than watching movies (like crime and illicit love affairs); rejected the local censorship board’s efforts to limit their commentary on American racism; labored as projectionists and demanded fair union wages; and, kept tabs on film’s impact on Black life in the city, tying film and experiences in movie theaters to their lived realities.

Stretching the boundaries of what I thought film history could or should be, the research for Reel Freedom pushed me into some unusual archives and source material: prison records to trace Black girls’ moviegoing, for example, and organizing materials from a popular Black unionist. In these and other records, Black New Yorkers’ own interest in film became clear. As I argue in Reel Freedom, Black New Yorkers shaped cinematic reception in the city, recognizing its representational and community-building potential, and used it to assert belonging in various city spaces.

As long and winding of an explorational journey that Reel Freedom was, I hope that it uncovers for readers a piece of New York City history that has long been ignored. I hope, too, that it may prompt some questions, more searching, and even more Black film history.

Listen Up! Temple University Press Podcast, Episode 11: Tim Weaver on Inequality, Crime, and Resistance in New York City

This week in North Philly Notes, we debut a new podcast that is part of a series of interviews with authors of books in the series Political Lessons from American Cities, edited by Richardson Dilworth. Each book in the series is intended to provide a specific lesson about politics, drawn from a single American city.

Inequality, Crime, and Resistance in New York City, by Timothy P. R. Weaver

Listen to this podcast HERE

In this episode, Political Lessons from American Cities series Timothy Weaver’s entry in the series, Inequality, Crime, and Resistance in New York City, looks closely at New York City’s political development since the 1970s starting with the 1975 financial issues facing New York through the occupy and Black Lives Matter movements. Weaver explains that multiple political orders—conservativism, neoliberalism, and egalitarianism—emerged at that time. He traces their historical political development and looks at “law and order politics.” Inequality, Crime, and Resistance in New York City belies glib assumptions about the city’s liberal character. Weaver reveals the metropolis not as a homogenous political whole, but as a site in which the victories and defeats of rival political forces change the terms of local citizenship for the millions of residents who call the city home.

The lesson of Weaver’s book is that urban politics and political development are driven by clashes among multiple political orders.

Is New York City as politically liberal as we assume?

This week in North Philly Notes, Tim Weaver, author of Inequality, Crime, and Resistance in New York City, writes about New York City’s political development. 

The 2024 presidential election delivered a profound shock to the American political system. One of the election’s most striking features was the surge of support for Donald Trump among voters in putatively liberal places, most stark in New York City where a red wave swept across the city’s working-class neighborhoods, not only in reliably Republican Staten Island, but also in parts of Brooklyn, the Bronx, and in Queens, where Trump was born and raised. Why did “reliably blue” New York, a putative liberal bastion, undergo such a decisively rightward shift?

To answer this question, one must look not only at the recent past—where rising vote shares for the GOP in presidential elections have been detectable since 2012—but more deeply into the city’s political history. My recent book, Inequality, Crime, and Resistance in New York City, analyses the past 50 years to argue that the city’s political and economic development belies glib assumptions about its supposedly liberal character.

In the aftermath of the city’s 1975 fiscal crisis New York’s development was driven by a neoliberal order reflected in periodic imposition of austerity measures under the egis of an unelected Emergency Financial Control Board, which reduced the size and scope of city government. Furthermore, mayoral administrations, from those of Ed Koch to Michael Bloomberg—Democratic and Republican alike—embraced the ever-expanding use of tax incentives to boost commercial and residential real estate development in a bid to transform New York into what Mayor Bloomberg called a “luxury city.” It was government largess in the form of tax breaks that underwrote Trump’s meteoric rise in the 1980s. The net effect of the neoliberal economic policies has been widening income inequality, stagnating median wages, stubbornly high levels of poverty, and gentrification. Thus, far from hewing to the dictates of New Deal liberalism, after 1975 neoliberal economic policy was the order of the day.

But if neoliberalism characterized the city’s approach to economic policy, it was not the only game in town. Alongside neoliberalism, New York’s approach to law-and-order highlights an additional driver of the city’s political development: conservatism. The 1960s and early 1970s witnessed a sustained rise in violent crime, often associated with the drug trade, which gripped neighborhoods like Harlem and the Lower East Side. Until the 1960s, the preferred approaches to crime and drug addiction were primarily liberal. These problems were largely viewed as emanating from underlying structural socioeconomic failings. From this perspective, the solution was to address root causes and offer treatment to addicts. In the face of rising crime and social dislocation, however, conservative diagnoses and remedies were stridently advanced by right-wing elites and working-class New Yorkers who were desperate for change.

Whereas conservative claims about the “culture of poverty” frequently took a racist and misogynistic form—as the “welfare queen trope” reveals—concern about disorder and crime cut across racial divides, as did preferences for tough-on-crime measures. Hence, mayors like Ed Koch and the city’s first black mayor, David Dinkins, prioritized investments in policing and corrections over funding for social programs. Still, it would take the combined administrations of Rudy Giuliani and Michael Bloomberg to transform New York into a mass incarceration city. Whereas Giuliani promoted “broken windows” policing, which targeted those committing “quality of life” crimes, Bloomberg accelerated the use of stop-and-frisk. Indeed, even as serious crime fell markedly, the number of people stopped and frisked annually exploded from 160,851 in 2002 to 685,724 in 2011. Over the course of Bloomberg’s mayoralty, there were almost five million stops, the vast majority of which were found to be unconstitutional, not least because they overwhelmingly ensnared black and Latino New Yorkers. Hence, alongside the neoliberal, elite-led transformation of economic policy, in the realm of policing conservative ideas came to dominate, bubbling up from the streets and flowing down from the think-tanks.

But if neoliberal and conservative ideas and policy designs came to define key elements of New York City’s political development since the 1975, the left was not vanquished entirely. The city’s centuries-old tradition of protest and rebellion was apparent throughout this period, as illustrated by the movements against gentrification in Tompkins Square Park in the late 1980s and the Occupy Wall Street revolt that exploded onto the scene and was echoed worldwide beginning in 2011. Furthermore, leftists and liberals enjoyed a modicum of electoral and programmatic success with the mayoralty of Bill de Blasio, which reversed the city’s decades-long tough-on-crime policing strategy, increased public-sector wages, froze socially regulated rent, and rolled out universal pre-kindergarten with alacrity. Furthermore, beyond the de Blasio administration a plethora of progressive forces based both in the resurgent labor movement and organized at the community level pressed for transformational economic and social policies. Therefore, alongside the neoliberal and conservative political orders sits an egalitarian order fighting for the material interests of the city’s working class.

With the social disruption of the pandemic, and an associated (albeit transient) spike in crime, the city’s conservative and neoliberal orders found themselves once again with the initiative. The familiar bromides of austerity and punitive policing were back on the agenda. Voters turned once again to somebody who promised to “get tough” on crime: former NYCP cop Eric Adams, who was elected in 2022. Although they spring from vastly different social and economic backgrounds, the parallels between Adams and Trump are clear, even beyond their causal relationship with the truth and the law. Perhaps most strikingly, their willingness to scapegoat “illegal immigrants,” who they deem responsible for crime and disorder, has paid political dividends, helping them to garner the support of the city’s racially and ethnically diverse working-class.

A historical understanding of New York City’s political development since the 1960s helps us to see how its trajectory has been shaped by the interplay among its three political orders: conservatism, neoliberalism, and egalitarianism. Such a perspective gives lie to the view that New York is a liberal city to the core. Rather, it is a blend of the political traditions that will continue to vie for power in the years to come. The balance of those forces will determine whose interests get protected and who will suffer the consequences.

Announcing Temple University Press’ Spring 2025 titles

This week in North Philly Notes, we present our list of forthcoming Spring 2025 titles!

The Fast Track: Inside the Surging Business of Women’s Sports, by Jane McManus
Investigating adversity and advancement for women’s sports

A Sports Odyssey: My Ithaca Journal, by Grant Farred
How sports evokes love

BG’s ABCs: Tackling Football and Life, Written by Brandon Graham and Lesley Van Arsdall; Illustrated by Mr. Tom
Life Lessons from an NFL Legend

Remission Quest: A Medical Sociologist Navigates Cancer, by Virginia Adams O’Connell
Sharing the story of being diagnosed with and treated for lymphoma-and the knowledge it provides

Canaries in the Code Mine: Precarity and the Future of Tech Work, by Max Papadantonakis
Explores the vulnerabilities of software developers in the tech industry

Be Water: Collective Improvisation in Hong Kong’s Anti-Extradition Protests, by Ming-sho Ho
How Hongkongers launched a large-scale protest movement with collective improvisation

Counterfeited in China: The Operations of Illicit Businesses, by Ko-lin Chin
Dispels the many myths surrounding an illegal industry through face-to-face interviews with luxury-goods counterfeiters in Guangzhou, China

Inequality, Crime, and Resistance in New York City, by Timothy P. R. Weaver
Shows that urban politics and political development are driven by clashes among multiple political orders

Reel Freedom: Black Film Culture in Early Twentieth-Century New York City, by Alyssa Lopez
How Black New Yorkers used film culture to claim the city as their own

Visuality of Violence: Witnessing the Policing of Race, by Ofelia Ortiz Cuevas

Examining the visual, political economic, legal, and cultural functions of racial violence

Theatres of the Body: Dance and Discourse in Antebellum Philadelphia, by Lynn Matluck Brooks
An expansive study of Philadelphia’s significant contributions to dance during the nation’s political, social, and intellectual development

Monstrous Nature and Representations of Environmental Harms: A Green Cultural Criminological Perspective, by Avi Brisman and Nigel South
How popular culture informs our ideas about harms to the environment caused by humans

Sodomy’s Solicitations: A Right to Queerness, by Joseph J. Fischel
Advances a queer politics that backgrounds identity claims and foregrounds instead the state’s deployment of sex to govern

Love in the Lav: A Social Biography of Same-Sex Desire in Ireland, 1922–1972, by Averill Earls
Tells the unexpected, sometimes heartbreaking stories of Dublin’s men who desired men and the Gardaí who policed them

Family and Disability Activism: Beyond Allies and Obstacles, edited by Pamela Block, Allison C. Carey, and Richard K. Scotch
Giving voice to a range of intersectional disability and parent experiences within social movement activism

Cultural Studies in the Interregnum, edited by Robert F. Carley, Anne Donlon, Beenash Jafri, Laura J. Kwak, Eero Laine, SAJ, and Chris Alen Sula
Interrogates and reconfigures possibilities for activist-intellectual work during times of social transformation

European Higher Education, Social Responsibility, and the Local Democratic Mission, by Sjur Bergan
Provides global lessons from Europe’s experience developing a culture of democracy through higher education

The Hidden Face of Local Power: Appointed Boards and the Limits of Democracy, by Mirya R. Holman
Juxtaposes appointed boards that generate policy and consolidate power with others that pacify agitation from marginalized groups

Mapping AsiaTown Cleveland: Race and Redevelopment in the Rust Belt, by Rebecca Jo Kinney
Analyzing the role of regional racial formation in Asian American community development in the Rust Belt

American Corruption Talk: A Political Etymology, by Robert G. Boatright and Molly Brigid McGrath
Explores differences in how Americans have deployed corruption talk throughout the nation’s history

Foundations of Black Epistemology: Knowledge Discourse in Africana Philosophy, by Adebayo Oluwayomi
An exploration of questions about agency and the power of knowledge from the Black philosophical perspective

What Is Solidarity?

This week in North Philly Notes, Alana Lee Glaser, author of Solidarity & Care, writes about how her days as a labor activist informed her new book.

What is solidarity? What do we—as members of a society—owe one another? How might we effectively uphold and institutionalize our mutual obligations? These questions have animated my own activism and scholarship since I was an undergraduate student turned labor activist two decades ago. More recently, these same questions motivated me to write a book for undergraduate students that I hope might inspire them to solidarity action themselves.

During my first year as an undergraduate at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, I, along with ten or so other students, staged a sit-in in the Chancellor’s historic South Building office on UNC’s central campus to protest the sweatshop labor behind the manufacture of the university’s licensed apparel. Months earlier, on a lark, I had attended a small meeting of anti-sweatshop activists. Over the course of those few months, I had what I now recognize as a full-scale world-view revolution. I entered college with an esteem for volunteerism and letter-writing campaigns (both of which I continue to endorse) and before my first year ended, I was a self-proclaimed labor activist and student radical.  To contextualize, let me add that this all occurred in 1998, before historical hindsight would allow me to place my consciousness within broader anti-neoliberal globalization movements that united “Teamsters and turtles” in Seattle and countless others in global mass demonstrations against the anti-labor, free-trade policies of the World Trade Organization, IMF, and World Bank. Virtually all my subsequent endeavors have built upon the foundational experiences of student-labor solidarity that took place throughout my undergraduate career, leading me to Domestic Workers United, the organization of immigrant women domestic worker activists that is the subject of my book, Solidarity & Care.

Solidarity & Care addresses these questions of solidarity, mutual aide, and activism through an accessible ethnographic description of Domestic Workers United’s decade-long fight to establish workplace protections in New York and the ramifications of this legislation in the ten years since it passed. Historically, U.S. labor laws have excluded care work performed in the home—housekeeping, childcare, and elder care—from labor law protections, leaving the women who work in this highly personalized, low-wage sector vulnerable to wage theft, harassment, abrupt termination, and abuse. In summer 2010, New York State passed the Domestic Worker Bill of Rights, the nation’s first-ever legislation granting formal protections to in-home workers.

Solidarity & Care chronicles the laboring lives and activist endeavors of immigrant women care workers across New York’s five boroughs, as they manage the implications of the new law in their workplaces, transnational communities, and political organizations. The introduction of the Domestic Worker Bill of Rights hasn’t attenuated many of the issues with which childcare providers, housecleaners, and home health aides contend on a regular basis—frequent termination, employer inconsideration, long hours, dismally low pay, mistreatment, and lack of control over their own labor. Solidarity & Care describes how care work positions exemplify increasing worker insecurity across industries—wrought by neoliberal economic policy and employer efforts to reduce wages and eliminate worker benefits through overseas outsourcing where possible and through casualization, deskilling, and fragmentation here in the United States. In this way, the book invites undergraduate students, many already working in low waged labor sectors themselves, to contextualize their own labor and to consider their experiences and interests in common with domestic workers.

By foregrounding the activist successes and setbacks of primarily Caribbean, Latina, and African women care workers, Solidarity & Care showcases how intersectional labor organizing and solidarity can effectively protect workers in this and other industries. It centers the voices and experiences of immigrant women workers through their oral histories, vibrant accounts of their roles in protest actions, and their own analyses of the overlapping oppressions they face as women of color, immigrants, and low-wage workers in New York City. Just as I was drawn to understand the historic and political circumstances during which I protested sweatshops by “sitting-in” as a an undergraduate, my hope is that Solidarity & Care will be an approachable invitation to undergraduates, and even the broader public, to reflect on their own political-economic position and to stand in solidarity with immigrant women workers, like the members of Domestic Workers United, and workers across the U.S. labor movement.

What will work eventually look like?

This week in North Philly Notes, we focus on our new and forthcoming Labor Studies titles in honor of Labor Day.

 Workforce Development 

The Many Futures of Work reframes the conversation about contemporary workplace experience by providing both “top down” and “bottom up” analyses.  

America in the 20thcentury

Becoming Entitled examines Americans’ shift in thinking about government social insurance programs during the Great Depression.

Communists and Community shows what role Communists played in the advancement of social democracy. 

Elaine Black Yoneda (forthcoming) presents a critical biography of the Jewish labor activist and feminist pioneer. 

Industrial histories

“A Road to Peace and Freedom recounts the history of the International Workers Order.

From Collective Bargaining to Collective Begging analyzes the expansion and restriction of collective bargaining rights for public employees.

Social justice and social welfare 

Motherlands challenges preconceived notions of the states that support working mothers. 

Labor economics 

Daily Labors and its examination of Black and Latino day laborers’ experience on an NYC street corner.

Sociology of work 

A Collective Pursuit argues that teachers’ unions are working in community to reinvigorate the collective pursuit of reforms beneficial to both educators and public education.

Policing in Natural Disasters shows how disaster work impacts law enforcement officers and first responders.

Making Their Days Happen (forthcoming) explores the complexities of the interpersonal dynamics and policy implications affecting personal assistance service consumers and providers.

For all of our Labor Studies

Temple University Press is having a Back-to-School SALE!

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Chronicling the unfinished odyssey of Bronx Cambodians

This week, Eric Tang, author of Unsettled likens the Cambodian refugees that are featured in his book to the current exodus of Syrian refugees to show connections of race, gender, and activism.

After they survived the Khmer Rouge genocide of the mid-to-late 1970s, followed by several years of confinement in international refugee camps, as many as 10,000 Southeast Asian refugees arrived to the Bronx during the 1980s and 1990s.

Unsettled chronicles the unfinished odyssey of Bronx Cambodians, closely following one woman and her family for several years as they both survive and resist their literal insertion into the Bronx “hyperghetto.” The term hyperghetto refers to the postwar structural decomposition of U.S. cities resulting from massive and compulsory unemployment, public and private disinvestment, and the hyper-segregation and confinement of the city’s poorest Black and Latino residents. It serves as a prime example of how late-capitalism and racial democracy failed far too many in the post-Civil Rights era.

Unsettled_smI wrote Unsettled  to reveal how Cambodian refugee resettlement to the United States did not mark the closing of the refugee sojourn, followed by the opening of a new era of peace and stability for those who fled their homeland. I wanted to show the ways in which the refugees remained displaced, their sojourn unclosed, owing to the false promises of federal policy makers and the unscrupulous actions of their handlers. Politicians talked boldly about delivering refugees into the arms of the free market, but there was never a meaningful economic plan tethered to U.S. refugee resettlement policy. The Office of Refugee Resettlement (ORR) offered only one-year of housing and job training assistance to refugees before they were cut loose, told to make it on their own. Meanwhile local resettlement agencies placed Cambodian refugees into ruinous housing units in some of the most economically marginalized neighborhoods in the Bronx. According to the past three decennial censuses, Southeast Asian refugees have held some of the highest welfare and poverty rates of any racial or ethnic group in the United States. Among Cambodian refugees living in New York City, 42.8 percent were living in poverty, 23.9 percent were unemployed, and 62 percent had less than a high school education twenty years after their resettlement. Over the past three decades the vast majority of Bronx Cambodians have subsisted on welfare programs (or what remains of them).

Despite these harsh realities, many Bronx Cambodians engaged in activism. Unsettled explores how Bronx Cambodians resisted conditions of poverty, violence, and housing discrimination. It pays attention to the unique process whereby community members developed an analysis of their conditions, reached consensus on their collective needs, and sought meaningful political redress through community organizing and direct action. Today, such activism continues through the community’s younger generation—the children and grandchildren of refugees—led by organizations such as Mekong NYC. The organization’s work, as told by director and community organizer Chhaya Chhoum is featured in key chapters of the book.

As an urban ethnography, Unsettled offers a new kind of discussion on race and gender in the contemporary city, particularly as it relates to the welfare-dependent and jobless urban poor. In this way, it departs from the core thesis of seminal texts in the sociology of immigration that, in the decade following refugee resettlement, predicted the seamless transition of Cambodian refugees into American labor markets as well as their eventual assimilation into Anglo-American culture. It serves as a rebuttal to research that seeks to ideologically remove the refugee from the grips of a Black and Latino “underclass”—the sociological pejorative used to describe racialized inner city poverty. By examining the ongoing phenomena of refugee poverty—that is, the manner in which Cambodian refugees of the Bronx simultaneously subsist in the welfare state and the sweatshop economy—Unsettled complicates the fixed race and gender identities that structure common-sense notions of the city: the immigrant working-poor on the one hand, the domestic and welfare-dependent underclass on the other.

Finally, Unsettled poses questions that are relevant to the present moment. The current exodus of Syrian refugees represents the “biggest humanitarian emergency of our era,” according the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees.  Indeed, not since the Southeast Asian refugee crisis of the late-1970s and 1980s, have so many migrants from one region risked their lives, across land and sea, in search of asylum. Yet what happens after they are resettled to their new homelands? Have their struggles come to an end, or have they only just begun?

Paying Tribute to The New York Young Lords

This week in North Philly Notes, Darrel Wanzer-Serrano, author of The New York Young Lords and the Struggle for Liberation, provides an introduction to this almost forgotten liberation organization.

On July 26, 1969, the New York Young Lords announced themselves to a public audience at a Tompkins Square Park rally. The next day, they were blocking the streets of El Barrio with trash, protesting both their unsanitary living conditions brought on by willful neglect of their community and the sanitizing force of “the system” — it’s capacity to nullify resistive movements and homogenize difference.

The first New York-rooted, radical Puerto Rican group of the post-McCarthy era, the Young Lords were central to a set of transformations in their community and beyond. This group of young people spoke truth to power and mobilized thousands of supporters in the communities to which they anchored themselves and their activism.

But why, after all of these years, has still so little been written on the New York Young Lords (and even less on the original Chicago chapter or the branches in Philadelphia, Bridgeport, etc.)? Appearing as the main subject of only a handful of articles and book chapters — and appearing, more frequently, as an aside or summation — the memory of Young Lords has circulated like a ghost for leftist Puerto Rican academics. Is it because the group, ultimately, wasn’t instrumentally “successful” in many of their specific interventions? Is it because so much of the scholarship coming out of Puerto Rican studies has focused on older histories, literary and cultural studies, and so on? Who knows; but more work needs to be done.

New York Young Lords_smMy recently released book, The New York Young Lords and the Struggle for Liberation, is one such effort at filling out the history of the Young Lords in New York. Focused largely on the group’s early activism, I craft a critical-interpretive history of the Young Lords to help introduce them to a broader audience. Beyond the historical point, the book is also an effort to enrich our understandings of decolonial praxis and its potentials. Decolonial theory — especially as engaged by scholars from Latin American and Latin@ contexts — has evolved well over the last couple of decades. I believe it can be pushed further via engagement of particulars, of the grounded ways in which people and groups seek to delink from modernity/coloniality in their lived environments.

In the fourth chapter of book, I examine the Young Lords’ “garbage offensive” as an activist moment that speaks to/through multiple gestures of decolonial praxis. As their first direct-action campaign, the Young Lords helped craft the space of El Barrio as a colonized place, one in which broader based efforts at politicizing the residents would be necessary. Crucially, rather than merely asserting themselves in El Barrio, the Young Lords listened to the people in order to discern their needs, which is how they came to the issue of garbage in the first place. In listening to the cries of the dispossessed, the Young Lords engaged in a key practice of decolonial love and went on, further, to model such love in the immediate community and beyond.

Now, there is some question as to how unique activism around garbage was to the Young Lords. As I talk about in the book, there is evidence that a branch of the Real Great Society has engaged in similar garbage protests earlier than the Young Lords. What’s important here, however, is not the question of who did it first, but the different issue how they came about the idea, gave it priority and presence, and cultivated political transformations in the community that could transgress constructions of Puerto Ricans as a political, docile, and so on.

Although my book engages in detailed analyses surrounding the garbage offensive, the church offensive, their transformations surrounding gender, their articulation of revolutionary nationalism, and their engagements of history, more work remains to be done. Aside from a brief mention, I devote little attention to their takeover of Lincoln Hospital in the Bronx. I barely write about the branches that sprouted up outside of New York City. My hope is that others will continue to add to the breadth of the Young Lords’ history in ways that scholars have done with the Black Panthers, the Chican@ movement, and beyond. As one recent report puts it, “The time is ripe for a look back at one of the most potent and political organizations of the 20th century.” Running now through October, ¡Presente! The Young Lords in New York is a multi-site exhibition of Young Lords art and activism at the Bronx Museum of the Arts, El Museo del Barrio, and Loisiada Inc. Through such exhibitions and more scholarship, my hope is that memory of the Young Lords can live on and continue to inform public debates and activism now and into the future.

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