We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Imani Haynes a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.

Alright, Imani thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. What’s been the most meaningful project you’ve worked on?

Upon entering grad school, I knew I wanted my MFA thesis to be a message of appreciation to Black Women. After research and much reflection, I thought of the first moment I felt pride about my intersectional identity; I attended the 1997 Million Woman March in Philadelphia, PA, with my mother and her woman’s group. The Million Woman March is one of the largest 20th-century demonstrations in United States history, which, unfortunately, is not an event that many people remember. I will never forget the electrifying feeling of beings amongst a sea of black women, all celebrating our unique experiences while calling for a change in our community and from our government. I began researching the march and found very little academic writing about it separate from its more notable counterpart, the Million Man March, which happened two years prior. While developing my research, I knew I wanted to create an experience where audiences would learn about the march while witnessing the ripple effect for generations of black women afterward through visual art.

I set my sights on developing the idea into an exhibition, which brought me more challenges than anticipated. I had to make up for the gaps left by the media and historians by telling the story through the lens of the women who created the march, attended the demonstration, and where they landed after participating. During my first year, I recorded nearly fifteen interviews to paint as complete a story of that monumental day as I could. After documenting their stories, I worked with three brilliant artists, Katelyn Brown, LaToya Hobbs, and Asiranna Simmons-El, to speak to the current condition of Black Women in America. Their works were beautiful reflections of our beauty, complexities, and struggles. The last component of the exhibit was my work with the young women of Western High School, the oldest public all-girls High School in the United States. For three months, through a series of workshops, I taught them about black women’s long-standing legacy of activism in this country. The students created Fiber Protest Flags from our workshops, representing themselves as the future generation of Black Women in America.

I shopped my proposal around to museums that aligned with the exhibition’s vision, mission, and goals, but no one could take the show since most museums plan exhibitions years in advance. My graduate program director shared an alternative—a shipping container—that didn’t make sense to me, but after my last rejection email, I quickly wised up and got on board. After a lot of research and calling around, I found a company that allowed me to rent a shipping container for my fixed timeline. The team I gathered to build the show was our excellent graphic designer Rheagen King and skilled fabricator Daniel Lord. Everything about the exhibition fell into place: partnership, programs, and funding; so much of me and those I worked with went into this project.

A week before the exhibit was slated to open—March 20, 2020—the world shut down due to COVID-19, and everything came to a screeching halt. No need to replay the horrific early days of the pandemic, but while watching the world fall apart, I was mourning what I felt was a missed moment in my career as an emerging independent curator. With the encouragement of my family and friends, I later opened the show from July 31 – August 9; we welcomed 123 guests over eight days. Since the exhibit was housed in a 40 ft double-door shipping container with reserved scheduling, it allowed people to experience art and culture during an uncertain time in humanity. At the show’s close, a visitor shared with me how it was meaningful to see an entire exhibition dedicated to black women, which inspired me to set my sites on turning the shipping container into a museum. On August 10, 2020, I established the container as the Black Woman’s Museum, and before the year ended, I received enough funding to buy the shipping container.

The two-year journey of an idea that unfolded into an exhibition that later became a museum was never my intention, but it has left an indelible mark on my life and career as a creative.

Great, appreciate you sharing that with us. Before we ask you to share more of your insights, can you take a moment to introduce yourself and how you got to where you are today to our readers

There is a quote I live by, service to your people is the rent you pay to live on this earth.” I worked in multiple positions throughout museums: docent, social media manager, education, and programming to name a few. As a creative, stewardship and service to my community feed my work. I currently work as the curator for the Reginald F. Lewis Museum of Maryland African American History and Culture. I am proud of the interpretive community work I have done during my time working at multiple institutions. Laying the groundwork for the Black Woman’s Museum (BWM), I am using my time in the field to sharpen my skills and build a legacy for BWM that will outlast me.

Are there any resources you wish you knew about earlier in your creative journey?

Organizations offer so many free webinars nowadays on varying topics of interest. They have become more frequent since the pandemic, but I wish I had access to them in my early career. It could have served as a way for me to network and learn the field in ways that could have given me greater insight.

Learning and unlearning are both critical parts of growth – can you share a story of a time when you had to unlearn a lesson?

I am still working on it, but negative self-talk is something I battle with; at times, I can be my own worst critic. It is empowering when you continue to bet on yourself as a creative, but it is also scary to see yourself reach new heights. The process of unlearning the harmful habit of negative self-talk is using my faith; by reading my bible to combat the lies I tell myself, I can replace them with positive statements I know to be true.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://blackwomansmuseum.org
• Instagram: blkwomansmuseum

Image Credits
Photo of myself: Leah Jones, National Museum of African American History and Culture Photos of the Black Woman’s Museum: Deyane Moses