Is Black childhood afforded the quality of fragility? Easily injured and deemed necessary to protect. In Ebony Patterson’s …and babies too… (2016-2018), small frosted glass sneakers, ballet flats and heels are laid out across the surface of the table, each embellished delicately with costume jewelry, pearls and colorful shoelaces. The pairs of shoes gesture to the lives of 18 children killed in Jamaica throughout 2015. Sitting with the installation, I meditate on fragility as a characteristic too often extricated from Black childhood. Handle with care. Be gentle.  

…and babies too… is centered around a grandiose, rectangular table covered in a jacquard woven photo tapestry that displays digitally embroidered appliqués featuring children’s cartoon characters such as Hello Kitty, brightly colored glittering flowers, hair bows and crowns. The table’s pink surface has white polka dots that peek out past the edges of the tapestry. In a space between the tabletop and its wooden legs, colorful models of toy cars are tightly assembled. Ornate carved accents flank each wooden leg. Lying on the floor below the table are multicolored fabric covered papier-mâché balloons.

The installation’s title references the iconic anti-Vietnam War poster, “And Babies,” which displayed a photo of a dozen Vietnamese women and children murdered during the My Lai Massacre (1968).[1] Through the title, Patterson positions her work within both a global and historical context, recognizing the power of visual representation to interrogate violence, while also refusing to reproduce explicit images of those killed.   

In a 2018 lecture, Patterson remarked on the highly publicized murders of young Black people in the U.S. over the last decade, including Trayvon Martin and Tamir Rice.[2] She noted that these children were described as adults in the media, using language that erased their youth. What is it about the addition of Blackness that negates their right to childhood? …and babies too… highlights the lack of societal sympathy expressed at the deaths of Jamaican children, particularly working-class young girls killed by older men with whom they had “relationships”. In this Jamaican context, a predominantly Black country, Patterson indicates that childhood is not only negated by Black subjectivity, but also dictated by a set of respectable assumptions on how a young person should behave. The installation critiques the lack of intentional care provided for young Black girls as they traverse societal projections that seek to control their sexuality.

Patterson’s larger practice reflects on the social neglect experienced by working-class Black people. Exploring the spectacularity created by bling fashion accessories and emphasizing materials such as glitter, colorful jewelry and eye-catching fabrics, her work employs what scholar Krista Thompson has discussed as the aesthetic potential of shine and excess. These aesthetic tactics create moments of hyper-visibility for working-class Black people whose needs and desires are usually neglected by general society. [3] Objectified through hyper-exposure in popular culture and social tragedy, the quiet moments of Black life and the rich interiority of Black childhood are often obscured.[4]

Patterson’s creative labor is committed to acknowledging lives that have been both lost and overlooked. The artist’s practice constitutes what scholar Christina Sharpe conceptualizes as wake work, acts of caring for and mourning Black life.[5] Sharpe writes, “To tend to the Black dead and dying: to tend to the Black person, to Black people, always living in the push toward our death...It is work: hard emotional, physical, and intellectual work…” (7:2016). For Sharpe, because Black people navigate anti-Black worlds that position them proximate to violence and death, wake work will always be taxing  I consider …and babies too… as an altar, holding the interconnected complexities of mourning and celebration. 

Wake work characterizes the Jamaican cultural tradition known as a Nine Night, which is held to acknowledge the life of the deceased and guide them to the afterlife. The event happens nine days after the person dies and lasts for nine consecutive nights. Music blasting with food and rum in excess, much like the maximalism of Patterson’s installation, it is a party flowing with the emotional intermixture of love and grief. In the spirit of the Nine Night celebration, …and babies too… is imbued with an exuberance that feels like an inverse to the inconceivable sadness that characterizes a child’s death.

The inclusion of Patterson’s …and babies too…  in the 2022 KMAC Triennial: Divided We Fall can be thought of as a somber interrogation of the contemporary and historical relationship Kentucky has as a site of anti-Black violence. Her work is also an opportunity to question the societal systems that impact experiences of childhood globally. How can the world be re-imagined to prioritize the fragility of Black life? Handle with care. Be gentle.

Notes:

[1] M. Paul Holsinger, “And Babies,” War and American Popular Culture, Westport: Greenwood Press, 1999.  

[2] Ebony G. Patterson, “They Were…” Penny W. Stamps Distinguished Speaker Series, University of Michigan, 2018, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eox2tRHKml8&ab_channel=UMStamps

[3] Krista Thompson, Shine: The Visual Economy of Light in African Diasporic Aesthetic Practice, Durham: Duke University Press, 2013.

[4] Kevin Quashie, The Sovereignty of Quiet: Beyond Resistance in Black Culture, Chicago: Rutgers University Press, 2013.

[5] Christina Sharpe, In the Wake: On Blackness and Being, Durham: Duke University Press, 2016.