Acknowledgements

This book has lived with me like a second self I took everywhere I went. From writing Mortevivum, I have learned patience and purpose, fury, and profound sorrow. I have been fortunate to come through the other side of its creation a better human, and this is in no small part due to the support I have had around me. I want to begin with Victoria Hindley at the MIT Press, who held an admirable certainty about this book when I did not. I thank you for your code of ethics, your insight and vision, the way that you listen, and all you are able to see. Gabriela Bueno Gibbs, Mary Reilly, Kathleen Caruso, Melinda Rankin, Allison Levy, and the whole Brown University Digital Publications team have my profound thanks for the work that has gone into shaping this project into its current form. To the anonymous reviewers of the book manuscript, I am grateful for the time and effort you put into your suggestions and comments.

The first seed of Mortevivum was presented at the Feeling Photography conference in Toronto, ON, in 2009. I thank the organizers, Thy Phy, Elspeth Brown, and the members of the Toronto Photography Seminar for the opportunity to be part of that important conversation. My essay, “Regarding the Pain of the Other: Photography, Famine, and the Transference of Affect,” was later published in the edited collection Feeling Photography (2014). I have presented parts of this project in one form or another to audiences at Emory University, the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, the University of Pennsylvania, Simmons University, The University of Toronto, Brown University, Tufts University, CUNY Graduate Center, Harvard University, and OCAD University, Toronto. I want to thank series editors Gabrielle Moser and Adrienne Huard, SAGE Publications, and the Journal of Visual Culture for the opportunity to reprint a portion of my essay “You and Eye in the Afterlives of Images” in Mortevivum.

This project was supported by a Martin Luther King Jr. Visiting Fellowship at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. My enduring appreciation goes to Sandy Alexandre, Helen Elaine Lee, Mary C. Fuller, Wyn Kelly, Joaquin Terrones, Ed Bertschinger, and Sophia Hasenfus for making my time there so incredibly productive. I completed the book manuscript in my first semester as the Richard D. Cohen Fellow at Harvard University’s W. E. B. Du Bois Research Institute at the Hutchins Center. To Henry Louis Gates Jr., Abby Wolf, Krishna Lewis, and the rest of the Hutchins Center community, I want you to know that my time there was a gift of black studies centrality, and it came at the exact moment it was needed. To my fellow-fellows: your effortless brilliance does not surprise me, but your remarkable cross-disciplinary engagement and care will stay with me for a long time.

The years I spent at Mount Holyoke College have given me great colleagues and greater friends. Iyko Day made the Five Colleges area a refuge for scholars of color seeking communion. I aim to create community with such elegance and precision. David Hernández, aside from being my left-handed comrade, is a sonically attuned master of musical selections. Each of his suggestions have made their way into my sound lists. Wesley Yu marks this world with a seemingly effortless calm disposition and genuine interest in others. He makes me want to read medieval literature for fun. Ellen Alvord is what joy in a museum looks like. I will always take the opportunity to visit an exhibition space with her. Suparna Roychoudhury mixes wit with wicked humor and blends this with intellectual energy. I thank Vanessa Rosa, Sarah Stefana Smith, Meredith Coleman-Tobias, and Ren-yo Hwang for good food, good humor, and great joy. My first chairs at Mount Holyoke, Amy E. Martin (English) and Preston Smith II (Africana Studies) made my introduction to the college pleasant and comfortable. I thank Dorothy Mosby, Elizabeth Young, Nigel Alderman, Lucas Wilson, Andrea Lawlor, Chris Benfey, and Kate Singer for the time we have spent in conversation.

Eunsong Kim is that friend that most do not deserve, me included. I am so grateful that we crossed paths (thanks, Lisa!). Sandy Alexandre is the epitome of deep, soul kin. My goal is to keep earning the friendship she gives. Jyoti Puri is a perfect example of a purpose-driven life. Chiwen Bao helps me to remember what is most important as I move through my days. Helen Elaine Lee goes hard and loves harder. Sarika Chandra puts good humor to good use while also using her scholarly integrity to benefit others. Caroline Light continues to inspire me with her moral code and her jovial nature. To DJ Lynnée Denise, I thank you for your eye, and your pristine ear.

At Dartmouth College I have had the great fortune to be in good company. Donald Pease is as generous with his time and expertise as he is kind. Trica Keaton, Alexander Chee, Peter Orner, Colleen Boggs, Vievee Francis, Patricia Stuelke, Michael A. Chaney, Eng-Beng Lim, Jed Dobson, Matthew Olzmann, Naaborko Sackeyfio-Lenoch, Desirée J. Garcia, Laura Edmonson, Joshua Bennett, Jeff Sharlet, Mary Coffey, Tommy O’Malley, Monika Otter, Iyabo Kwayana, Andrew McCann, Ayo Coly, Mingwei Huang, Matthew Delmont, Melanie Benson Taylor, Alisa Swindell, and Katherine Gibbel—thank you for welcoming me with such care. Charlotte Bacon is a source of genuine motivation and my work is better because of this. Michaela S. Benton was my research assistant for the 2021–2022 academic year, and her mix of enthusiasm and vigilance helped the book reach this point.

I will be endlessly in debt to Lisa Lowe, for all the reasons she knows and some she may not. I thank her for her continued mentorship, for her infectious laughter, and for our friendship. Roderick Ferguson is a model of humanity and scholarly grace I wish to emulate. My appreciation goes out to Paul Gilroy for his continued support and helpful advice. I thank Michael Boyce Gillespie, Jennifer L. Morgan, Lisa Uddin, Karin Vélez, Kymberly Newberry, Sa Whitley, Trica Keaton, Elizabeth Maddock Dillon, Jovonna Jones, Iyko Day, and Vievee Francis for good humor and laughter. Katherine O’Callaghan and Malcom Sen graciously allowed me to be a small part of their life when I lived in South Hadley. For this I am thankful.

Former students and now current academic colleagues Jenna Sciuto, Tesla Cariani, Asimina Nikolopoulou, Anni Pullagura, Laura Hartmann-Villalta, Kiara Hill, Liz Polcha, and Victoria Papa remind me of the importance of the connections you make along the way.

I could not have completed this work if not for the conversations I have had and continue to have with my cohort of black women who do-not-suffer-fools. To say that our work is the fuel that propels us is to say a thing. So thank you: Nicole N. Ivy, Patricia A. Lott, Kaysha Corinealdi, Martine Jean, Helen Elaine Lee, Moya Bailey, Nikki A. Greene, Christina Sharpe, Dell Marie Hamilton, Trimiko Melancon, Faith Lois Smith, Julie Crooks, Sandy Alexandre, Sarah Haley, Marcia Chatelain, Shana Redmond, Zakiyyah Iman Jackson, Toby Sisson, Vanessa Monique Liles (my plus-one, my road traveler), Kia Melchor Quick Hall, Misty De Berry, Amanda Russhell Wallace, Aneeka A. Henderson, Trimiko Melancon, and Nadine Adjoa Smith (and of course, Ayo).

I was wrestling with the contours of this project when I decided to create a scholarly working group on race and visual culture. The Dark Room: Race and Visual Culture Studies Seminar began in 2012 and has been the most sustaining force in my scholarly world. What started as a way to think through the axes of engagement between black feminism, black studies, and visual culture studies is now so much more than that. We are every part the collective I imagined we would be. To Nikki A. Greene, Nicole Morris Johnson, Patricia A. Lott, Rachel Afi Quinn, Jasmine Elizabeth Johnson, Kelli Moore, Autumn Marie Womack, Patrica A. Banks, Samantha A. Noël, Kellie Carter Jackson, Zoé Samudzi, Sarah J. Jackson, Anique Jordan, Bakirathi Mani, Irene Mata, Alexandrina Agloro, K. Melchor Quick Hall, Brittnay Proctor-Habil, Brandy Monk-Payton, LaRose Davis, Rachel Mordecai, Sonya Donaldson, Stéphanie Larrieux, and Alicia Ellis, thank you for reminding me of the power of community.

I have Shirley Carrie Hartman to thank for any clarity that exists in this book. While I have secretly been calling her an “alliteration killer” and a “hater of fragments,” the truth is she has shaped Mortevivum in ways I could not. Sometimes fragments are a cry for help.

My siblings are remarkable people. They have always managed to give me the space to be myself in their presence. I will forever be grateful for that.

My father, Harold “Sylvester” Brown remains my constant compass, having shown me what it means to put good out in the world and to do so with intention. After a contentious divorce and the loss of his visitation with us, my father, a bus driver, chose his bus route to move through our neighborhood so that he could occasionally set his eyes on his children and make sure we were okay. He gave me my first camera at sixteen, and a word processer when I was eighteen. Most importantly, he has given me my temperament and my commitment to grace.

This book is dedicated to him.