“Where Are The Black Lesbians At?” Meet Krü Maekdo, The Archivist of Black Lesbian Archives
Multimedia artist and archivist, Krü Maekdo. Photo courtesy of Krü Maekdo.
By Jaimee A. Swift
Dynamic and determined, activist, artist, and archivist Krü Maekdo is dedicated to ensuring that the activism, histories, leadership, and lives of Black lesbians are not overlooked.
When you type “Black Lesbian History” in the Google search bar, what do you see? On the first page of the search, you may see a few articles that specifically have ‘Black lesbians’ in the title. When you go to ‘Images’, you will see some photos of Black lesbian greats such as Lorraine Hansberry, Ruth Ellis, and Ernestine Eckstein. However, when you scroll down even further, you will see many photos of white and non-Black lesbians as well. It is this type of erasure and amongst other forms of mainstream obscureness of Black lesbians which led Krü Maekdo into action.
Maekdo is a multimedia artist, archivist, and founder of Black Lesbian Archives, an ongoing archival project that aims to bring awareness, build community, and educate and preserve Black lesbian culture while bridging intergenerational gaps between communities. Born in Abilene, Texas (however, as Maekdo told me, “reps Dallas, all day!”) but has lived and traveled extensively around the world, it was after watching ‘The Last Lesbian Bars’ documentary and then later conducting extensive research on lesbian history, when she realized there was chronic invisibility of Black lesbians in digital representation, as well as in libraries and archives. From there, Maekdo has created a formidable hub and community for Black lesbians, the LGBTQIA+ community, and allies to come together, build, affirm, and learn from and about the histories, power, resilience, activism, and more of Black lesbians.
Black Women Radicals spoke with Maekdo about why they started Black Lesbian Archives; the mission behind the Black Lesbian Archives’ Grassroots Tour (which was postponed due to COVID-19); the most informative research they have come across thus far in their archives; who are Black women that inspire them; and more.
You can also listen to the audio from Maekdo’s guest feature on Black Women Radicals’ Instagram Live series “Afrekete Convos”. For more information about “Afrekete Convos”, please visit here.
Can you tell me a little more about your background, your activism, and what led you into the dope work you are doing now?
Krü Maekdo (KM): “I traveled all my life. I have seen different people, places, and faces from all over the world. People used to say to me that I didn’t really have any roots because I traveled so much and would ask me how I meet and stay connected with people. And I am like, yo––home is everywhere I went. Home is everywhere I’ve been. Home is me––it is everywhere I go. Home really is about what you make it and it has always been wherever I am. Growing up in a fairly cool household, we had our shit as we all do but I really used school and the things I was in to channel that energy and do something different, you know what I mean? That is something I can definitely say about my upbringing and shoutout to my Mama! We were always on some different ass shit. She definitely fueled my creativity to the goddamn max! [Laughs] So shout out to Mama Dukes!”
“The Black Lesbian Archives really spurred from the time when I was really understanding who I was as a lesbian. I was already out when the Black Lesbian Archives started, so I wasn’t trying to figure it out but I was always curious. I have always been into history; history was my favorite subject in high school. So, I started digging around. After a while, when you watch all the lesbian web-series, you are like, ‘Damn! Okay now I need more. I need more context to this.’ I was searching and I knew I was searching for something but I knew there was something deeper. There was something that was in me that was like, ‘You need to look for more. You need to search for more.’ There has to be something more to this than just us on this screen, which was nice to see but I need more. I started researching and I started digging. I started going down the rabbit hole and all the shit. I started noticing a pattern of bullshit, you know what I mean? I would be online and I barely saw [Black lesbians] there! I see little bits of pieces of it. I would see Black lesbians here and there. Then I started going to these libraries and these collections departments at these institutions, and I am like, ‘Oh, so the only thing y’all got about us is a newsletter? The only thing y’all have about us is our damn newsletters and our newspapers?! Our magazines? Nothing else? No. Nothing? Okay. Alright.’ That is when I started getting irritated and especially getting irritated in talking about that and doing Twitter finger shit. I was like, ‘Fuck that! I am starting this shit up!’ [Laughs] I can be a very impulsive person but I knew there was something in me that was calling me to do this. Something in me was like, ‘This is where you need to be. This is the direction you need to go.’ This is me––[the Black Lesbian Archives] is really digging into myself as I am digging into a deeper community that is surrounding me.”
“The Black Lesbian Archives really spurred from the time when I was really understanding who I was as a lesbian. I was already out when the Black Lesbian Archives started, so I wasn’t trying to figure it out but I was always curious.”
“So I started digging. I was in Williamsburg, Virginia at the time staying with my auntie after I left Atlanta. I stayed with her for a couple of months and I was like, ‘I can’t do this anymore Williamsburg, Virginia. Your service is hell and there ain’t nothin’ but old ass white folks who are ready to retire or die.’ [Laughs] It was time to switch the game up. It was either New York, Chicago or D.C. I love D.C. but I didn’t know if I could see myself living in D.C. New York, I could definitely see myself living in New York but it is way too goddamn expensive. I’d be damned if I pay a beaucoup amount of money for a box. Fuck that! I love Chicago but I never envisioned myself living there but shit, it was worth a shot. So I stacked my bread and went the fuck out to Chicago on a limb. I got there and really planted my feet to the ground. I went to this exhibit on dyke spaces in the 60’s, 70’s, and 80’s. It was a beautiful exhibit. I was blown the fuck back. That was also around the time I reached out to Tracy Baim of Windy City Times, which is now The Chicago Reader, and I was like, ‘Where are the Black lesbians at?’ She reached back out to me and was like, ‘I am just making sure this isn’t a threat.’ I was like, ‘Woah, woah, woah––this isn’t a threat!’ And then she told me there was an exhibit going down and that I should meet her there so we can talk.” “We went to the exhibit and I met Tracey as soon as I was pulling up. We went to the exhibit and I saw that we were still missing––Black lesbians were still missing. We were still barely in the mix. Even though I saw Black lesbians attending the event, there were not any Black lesbians up on display or being talked about. Of course, Pat Mccombs is definitely somebody who you definitely want to roll with when you are talking about Black lesbian history in Chicago but there is so much more to it. So I really started collecting archives and talking to people. I got in touch with Yvonne Wellbon of Sisters in Cinema. We did an exhibit that next year. We opened up with discussing [Wellbon’s] book release of Sisters in the Life: A History of Out African American Lesbian Media-making. We ended up doing a panel event with the founders of Affinity Community Services. Shoutout to Imani––even though she isn’t one the founders of Affinity––but for seeing my shit even though she didn’t know me! [Laughs] She was like, ‘Kru, whatever you want to do, let's do it.’ When I first started Black Lesbian Archives, I was so back and forth on it because back in the day, we only had gay and lesbians. Queer was a disrespectful term. The only way we were able to identify––that is how it was back then. And so, I am trying to think about the scope of everybody and all that good shit. I was going back and forth on whether I should call it ‘Black Queer Archives’ or ‘Black Lesbian Archives.’ And Imani was like, ‘Yo, Kru, what is this project about? Why are we here now? Why are we talking now? What was it that you came to bring to me now?’ And I was like, ‘You know what? It is because of Black lesbians. It should be the Black Lesbian Archives.”
“That was also around the time I reached out to Tracey Baim of Windy City Times, which is now The Chicago Reader, and I was like, ‘Where are the Black lesbians at?’”
“The reason why I am here is to talk about why Black lesbians are not being included in texts or in these stories or institutions and shit. It is not just the institutions––why are we not talking about each other? Why are we not talking about the stories of our lives, where we have been, and where we have come from? That is the central hub. That is how it got started. We have done film screenings, book releases, mixers, and then we had an archiving-101 session with Sabrina from the University of Chicago. When I look around it is like, ‘Damn! All this came up out of curiosity?’ Can you imagine if I am just one person––and I am not saying I didn’t have support because I definitely had support, so shoutout to everyone that I named plus Ben––but just having the seed of thought of where are we? [and] then going from where are we to there we are. And then going from here we are to talking about how we got here. Let’s talk about this gap because that is my thing. I am all about bridging the gap between communities. For example, how do we bridge the gap between the older generation––or what I call the wise generation––with the generation of now? We are so stuck in our own zones and stuck in our own worlds sometimes. There are muthafuckas out here dying without their stories being told. Literally dying off without their stories being told, their archives not passed around, and us not having conversations of what was done and how we heal ourselves through these stories. Shit, because all the archives I have looked through I am like, ‘Damn, I sound just like this bitch.’ No disrespect to the ancestors but no really––I sound just like them. This is me. I see myself in some of the stories I read. This is me reincarnated in this lifetime. So, how are we changing this cycle? How are we breaking these chains? How are we connecting with each other?”
“Yes, I get it: social media is great and digital archiving is great. But if the government and whatever the powers that be decided to take all this shit away, what are we standing on? What are we looking back at? What are we passing down to the next generation? That is really and truly how the Black Lesbian Archives started and how it continues to thrive because of curiosity and understanding that these stories are needed to connect to each other. We need each other to connect to each other, you know what I am saying? When this digital world we live in is gone, what do we have? There is only so much you can do when you’re sliding in someone DMs versus when you are looking at someone face-to-face and talking about your personal stories. If we heal ourselves, we can heal each other. If we can heal our own shit in our communities, then we can truly heal each other in the lesbian community, outside the lesbian community, in the trans community, in the bisexual community, and in the straight community.”
Multimedia artist and archivist, Krü Maekdo. Photo courtesy of Krü Maekdo.
“Yes, I get it: social media is great and digital archiving is great. But if the government and whatever the powers that be decided to take all this shit away, what are we standing on? What are we looking back at? What are we passing down to the next generation?”
What has been the most exciting and informative archives you have come across in your research so far?
KM: “There has been so much that I’ve come across and it is not just about Black lesbians but about Black women in general. We are so goddamn determined to make shit happen! We don’t give a damn if the whole world is burning to the ground. We will be like, ‘Alright, fuck it. We doin’ it!’ [Laughs] We don’t care if the whole goddamn government is on our fucking backs and got the gun out, we will be like, ‘We will get guns, too and now we have an army, bitch!’ [Laughs] For example, in Chicago, I think about how the Affinity Community Services started. It was started by Black lesbian women who realized that community in Chicago for lesbians was nothing. They knew that women wanted to connect with each but how can we get these services out? A group of women came together and started having meetings in their homes. It was a real hush, hush thing. The fact that they had to move around like this covert mission and really establish some shit with nothing? Nothing?! They were working without shit. They knew it was something that was needed and they truly felt like, ‘Yo, where are we at? What do we need?’ Black women, we come together like a fucking village. We make shit happen. We make it work. When I feel like there is something bigger than me and there is something bigger than myself and we can truly give people the opportunity to connect, I am all for it. I am 10 toes in. As Black women, as the gods that we are, it is innate in us to just move and do. It is like, ‘Okay, we are creating a community. When are we doing this? Now? Cool.’ The way we connect is so intimate.”
“When I look at the archives, I see the determination to make shit happen and to make shit move. When I see the archives, I see something that can make shit happen and that can make shit move and that can really help with generations to come. What is my great-great grandbaby going to do with this? What is my sister or my neighbor going to be able to do with this after we start this? It is beautiful. So that is one of things I get from the archives: they weren’t playing with no goddamn ‘body up in this bitch. They didn’t take no for an answer. If that was the case, we would still be living in bondage right now. The women that paved the way for us now? Yo! We go through shit but they really went through some shit. They had to break goddamn walls to get where we are. Seriously. And with no protection. No social media. None of that shit. They were doing that shit straight from the fucking ground––off the curb. I respect that shit.”
Do you mind telling me about Black Lesbian Archives’ Grassroots Tour and what do you hope to gain from it?
KM: Yeah! The tour will be starting off in Atlanta and we are going to be ending it around July. We are going to be hittin’ the South, hittin’ the West, we are going to be hittin’ the East Coast, and we are going to be hittin’ that Midwest. Basically the Grassroots Tour for me and what I hope people take away from it is the grassroot––the root. Startin’ from the bottom, now we here type-shit. That is why I really wanted to go on tour because there is one thing to talk about that shit on social media and one thing to post things but I am like nah––we really need to take the time to start understanding how to communicate and how to connect our stories face-to-face. You can go on Instagram and make a video and poke your lips out and be like, ‘Hey, I am lookin’ good today!’ [Laughs] We have such powerful tools around us right now and how are we using those tools? To me, word-of-mouth is one of the most powerful tools you can possibly have. I feel like it establishes a different kind of connection that you cannot ever get on social media. If I am sitting with you and connecting with you and talking to you, I am connecting with you more than just me telling you on social media what Black Lesbian Archives is about or me just talking with you on the phone. Let me show you how. We keep getting caught up––and I hate to call them this but it is true––in distractions. For me, this is the way we connect from the root.”
“We have grown ourselves up from the ground. We have planted ourselves in the fucking soil. We hold hands with one another, we hug each other, and we listen to one another with intent––not just to get some shit out of each other but really listen to each other with intent. I say all this to say that this tour is really about reestablishing a new kind of connection. It is a way to tell our own stories our own way. And knowing we don’t have to go to a goddamn library or institution––it would be nice to see us in there. But we don’t have to sit around and say, ‘Oh, we are not being represented. I cannot see myself.’ Well, if you can’t see yourself then what are you doing about it?’ If you are not seeing yourself somewhere then what are you doing about it in your own community? That is the conversations we need to be having. Okay, we got some free services out here. We got some podcast tools out here. We have videos. We have YouTube. We go things out here that you can do right now to share yourself! You can go out and talk to someone on the street, just to share yourself and your story and not be afraid to do that. You shouldn’t be constricted or fear the possibilities to create that. The Grassroots [Tour] is really connecting us at the root, which is how it all started and how we can continue to build on. How can we get that tree to continue to stand strong on its own and carry it to the next generation 10 times over, do you know what I mean?”
What does a Black Woman Radical mean to you?
KM: “A Black Woman Radical to me are Black women who create their own lane. They create their own means by any means necessary. They are women who really and truly create their own versions of themselves and create the version of the world that they want to live in––whatever that is. If you want take over or take under, whatever the case maybe, that is the shit you create for your goddamn self. When I think of radical, I think of revolution. It is a revolutionary term to me. It is going the fuck in at all costs. That is what a Black Woman Radical means to me. I love the term Black Woman Radical. When I think of the term in the archive, to be honest, it was very degrading. They make it seem like we are chaotic and all over the place and basically starting shit but to me that is the point of revolution. When Black women started being referred to as ‘outcasts’ and ‘radicals’, that is when shit hit the fan. It was like, ‘Nigga, we tired! We are tired! We cannot keep living this life!’ We are not just going to stand for anything. We have to have some sort of context before we move.’ So that is what a Black Woman Radical means to me.”
“A Black Woman Radical to me are Black women who create their own lane. They create their own means by any means necessary. They are women who really and truly create their own versions of themselves and create the version of the world that they want to live in––whatever that is.”
Who are Black women who inspire you?
KM: “I would definitely say my Aunt Lula. She was an herbalist in California. She moved there when she was very young and she used to make her own herbs on the streets and sell them on the streets. She used to heal people from the earth. She is still with me. She is very strong––she is strong as hell. She still speaks with me and talks to me. My granny and my mama: those two women are probably the strongest women I have ever met in my muthafuckin’ life! My granny took care all of her siblings. She had 12 of them. Not to say that she didn’t have my pop-pop and my nanny but they were slaves and they had to work. My granny really took over the responsibility of raising her siblings. She is so strong. She is very active and very lively, even until this day. My mom and I don’t always agree on everything but there is still this light in her that I love when she is just keeping to her roots, to God, and to the person within you. I appreciate that about her. My mom she was––no, she is––so creative. It is so funny because a lot of the Black Lesbian Archives you see and even how I display the archives is a lot of stuff my Mama used to do! Her imagination is still so beautiful and colorful. I really do appreciate her as that rock, even though she is Taurus and she is very bull-headed. Those are my girls!”
You can follow Krü Maekdo on Instagram @krumaekdo.
You can follow Black Lesbian Archives on Instagram and Twitter.
You can visit Black Lesbian Archives’ website here.