The Public Humanist

Tag Archives | Public Humanist

We Are All Racist: Using Storytelling to Overcome Implicit Bias


How can we respond to the recent increase in racism? One way could be to acknowledge our shared implicit bias, then tell stories to help overcome it.


What the Public Humanities Can Mean for Immigrant Communities


Nigerian basketball star Charles Okwandu on how the public humanities can help immigrants feel at home while honoring their nations’ histories and cultures.


What Does Women’s History Month Mean to You?

We reached out to three women actively engaged in telling women’s stories, each of whose work is supported by a Mass Humanities grant, to get their thoughts on what Women’s History Month means to them. Enjoy!


“Hamilton” and My Kids

"Hamilton" in production, photo by Sara Krulwich/The New York Times

Sometimes it takes an immigrant’s perspective to recognize what is truly great about the American experiment.


The Desire Line

L'Merchie Frazier's Oath of Secrecy II: The Mask is Still Dancing

L’Merchie Frazier, an artist and educator who has created and lectured around the world, is working with young artists of color on a collective project for the Art Grove installation in Franklin Park, opening August 8. Frazier has named her project The Desire Line: Seventeen Syllables, and it reflects an improvisational departure from and exploration of expanded urban possibilities.


Zen and the Art of Book Covers

Just start doing it. It can be a fictional project on your own if you want. Just do it; there is no recipe other than that.


Belgrade Raw: An Interview with Photographer Darko Stanimirović

Darko, with five other photographers, founded Belgrade Raw in 2009 to explore and share a side of Belgrade most outsiders never see.


The Pornographic Plantation: Mammy Minstrel Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow

Molasses drips on the walls. Close to the entrance, leading to the altar and centerpiece of whiteness, brown sugar boys hold baskets as their faces and bodies melt in the heat. A few of them have collapsed on the floor, disintegrating into dark viscous puddles. And the onlookers who have come to the slavery fair to gawk and take pictures against a background of stark plantation pornography step over the fallen, with hardly a notice. But the sight of the fall and the reek of the demise linger.