Dive into the Ecosystem: Leila Blackbird
Meet Leila Blackbird, a New Orleanian and PhD Candidate at the University of Chicago who led the Keywords team from 2022-24.
Introduce yourself. Are you a student, postdoc, faculty? With what institution? What do you do with LifexCode?
I am in my last year of being a PhD candidate at the University of Chicago and a Human Rights Doctoral Fellow at the Pozen Center for Human Rights.
A positionality that is important to my work is my status as an unenrolled adoptee of Apache and Cherokee descent, which refers to someone who cannot be enrolled in the tribe because they were adopted out of it. This means I am not legally affiliated with any tribe because I am not legally my mother's child.
Working alongside the Keywords for Black Louisiana community taught me that I should also indicate that I am a descendant of Louisiana Creoles. One thing I have been working on personally and with my colleagues who are also Indigenous and Louisiana Creole is doing very necessary reparative work around Afro/Indigeneity community and coalition building.
How long have you been involved with LifexCode? What inspired you to join?
I have been involved with LxC since the winter of 2020, which is almost from the start. I met Dr. Johnson a few months after she and Dr. Christina Thomas started LxC, so I joined when it was just a seed of what has grown since. And Keywords itself grew out of Louisiana Colonial.
I met Dr. Johnson at one of her book talks, and I saw that we studied and cared about many of the same things. I immediately knew from her passion and expertise that I wanted to be in her professional circle. She took me on [as a mentee], which was very welcome because, at the time, I was a first year grad student at a PWI where I was very out of place. Since then, I’ve found my place and work with some great people. I have benefited immensely from the connections, opportunities, and education I have gotten at the University of Chicago. But looking back, it was so important to my well-being that I met Dr. Johnson and began working with her. She not only reassured me that I wasn’t going to drown out there, she became the mentor I didn't know I needed.
I would like to tell a little anecdote: I met JMJ in the deep, deep exhaustion of being a brand new parent. I literally left the NICU–it was only a couple of days after my son was born–to go to her talk, and it was worth it. I sent Dr. J a follow-up email telling her that I really appreciated her work and a little bit about my work, and she responded! This was my introduction to LifexCode and what became Keywords.
Tell me about your lab or project and your role in it.
It’s incredible that it's been nearly 5 years! When I started, I just knew that I wanted to connect and work with people who cared about the same things that I did and who did similar research. I started off as the Ethics Chair of the Keywords project. The team spent a lot of time–months really–discussing ethical considerations and critical Black DH praxis. We [students] didn’t quite put it in those words at the time, but we were always in that praxis and foregrounding what it meant to be accountable to descendant communities and tribal nations. My role was to re-ground us and re-center us into conversations that centered Black and Indigenous life and humanity and to pull those conversations into meaningful and deliberative discussions. I don’t think that the project–or others like it–could or should go forward without those considerations. Obviously, Dr. Johnson was already thinking about and publishing on these topics, but it was a great opportunity to learn and act in real time. Although I already had a history of community rooted research and political activism, I was a new grad student, so I didn’t know yet how it all fit together, in academe broadly or in the digital humanities specifically.
I eventually stepped up into the role of Lead Chair before Keywords got the NHPRC Planning Grant. After that, we exploded out over the next year or so. We grew from 5 to 8 or 9 members, and then it became a massive network of people, including Community Advisors and other people working on the ground and on various teams. As we grew, roles changed again. I became the Senior Research Editor, and figuring out what that meant took some time. But I worked hard and developed that role and my own skill set. I assisted Dr. Johnson and Dr. Guadalupe García in creating best practices and editorial guidelines that we as a team would use, and I thought a lot about what kinds of work we wanted to be in conversation with and how our work would be situated. So, my primary role as Senior Research Editor was leading the research by focusing on the documents and the historiography. Through that, I had the opportunity to teach paleography, advise language teams, revise transcriptions and translations, and create a lot of resources like syllabi and paleographic dictionaries. For example, Spanish paleography has a massive learning curve. A lot of people who study Louisiana history don’t have Spanish, so that period is not as heavily investigated as the French period. At that point in the Keywords project, I was deep in writing an article about Spanish legal codes, so I was in the thick of exactly the kind of sources we needed. I was in that role up until this summer, when I stepped back to finish my dissertation. I'm a retiree now [laughs]!
Tell us more about your work in community activism.
I like to say that at heart I am a community activist, but I realized my skills were better placed in doing academic work. I spent my whole life in “firebrand” or “ready to fight” roles, but I got tired! Now I want to “weave,” so to speak, to think through things in a different and a more expansive way, and to build back better.
Brass tacks, I am from New Orleans. I was an adult and was in the city when Katrina happened. What many of us experienced, there are no words for. I don't really talk about it even still. But you can’t really explain to people what that was like. We were essentially living under a military occupation for a while. There was so much violence and heartbreak and suffering around us all the time; so many of our friends and family did not survive, not just the storm, but the aftermath. In the year after Katrina, I lost 13 friends to suicide or drug overdoses. Just as we were getting back on our feet–barely–it was the BP oil spill. So many people got sick. I was already politically active, but those two events gave me the impetus to do something. I just had to do more. That really condensed my need to do the work and to pour love back into my community, which is something that has sustained me as a person from then until now.
That drive is also part of what guides my academic work, including in the Keywords project. So many good people are out there working so hard on the ground to make positive change and have been for a very, very long time like many of our Community Circle Advisory Board members. It’s so cool to know those people! My own activism started way back with anti-war protests. After Katrina, I was deeply involved in anti-gun violence, anti-racism, and anti-police brutality campaigns, especially after I lost my brother to it and one of my close friends lost her cousin in a fairly high-profile case. And after BP, I connected in with Black and Indigenous communities across Louisiana and beyond, and I started getting more involved in climate justice and anti-pipeline work like "NoDAPL" and the "L'eau est la vie" camp. I believe environmental racism is a human rights issue. But yes, I've done so many marches and sit-ins. I've participated in rallies and other calls to action led by friends of mine like "Take 'em Down NOLA." I was there the night when the Robert E. Lee statue was removed, which was a highlight of my life. It's also exhausting doing frontline work and taking the sorts of risks necessary to be in crowds staring down riot police or giving aid to folks who have been injured by hired mercenaries or literally fighting Kl*nsmen and self-proclaimed Neo-N*zis. I'll do that with books and journal articles now.
Trying to make positive change specifically in the South Louisiana context has been very important for me for a long time. I think what’s so powerful about projects like Keywords is that they’re not “just an academic project.” What’s so important is that they give folks who have gone through so much, and have so much to give, and so much fire in them, an opportunity to pour care back into the community together. It makes a difference. It really does.
What impact has Keywords had on the members involved in it?
I could answer that in so many ways! The impact was amazing to witness. I got to see a lot of people learn, blossom, and grow, especially students who don’t have connections to Louisiana. Watching them become part of that group of people and genuinely care was really powerful for me. I knew a few of our Community Advisors before I started with Keywords, and seeing them around the table and experiencing real moments of joyousness, and even sharing in their grief, if that makes sense, was really powerful. That's one of the biggest impacts from my perspective. Growing up in Louisiana as an unenrolled adoptee and as a Creole descendant with my feet in different communities, I know that they don’t always intersect easily in real life. You don’t always get African American, Native American, and Creole folks sitting around the same table, for example, talking to each other and delving into what is sometimes a very difficult history. Honestly, some of those conversations were something that I could not have imagined happening as a kid. Almost all of us at the workshop who are from there are descendants of both enslaved and enslaver and our ancestors were not always kind to each other. That's a lot to hold. So, to sit there and do this kind of work and have these kinds of hard conversations can sometimes require radical compassion and, what I would call, a form of self-decentering introspection. Developing the ability to do that is a skill that really can’t be taught in a classroom–you need to experience it. You need to be in community. You need to feel and to do so deeply. And I think that's something that everyone who has been involved in the project, whether for a short or a long time, has gotten to experience. That's the impact.
What is something you have done with LifexCode that you are especially proud of, were inspired by, or generally considered a great experience?
A great memory is of Summer Workshop, Year 1. There was a lot of joy and happiness. But it was oppressively hot, we were pouring sweat–I joked with Dr. J that she really scheduled it in August in New Orleans to keep us humble–and I was carrying around my two-year-old. I never asked for or expected this, but people swooped in to help take care of and play with him. He, at almost 5, still remembers and actively talks about it! He says, “Remember that time that I went with Miss Eola and Maya-friend and we had beignets? Or when we had snoballs with Ellie-friend and Olibia?” I have this picture that I treasure of Dr. J telling him a story and pointing out at Jackson Square. Another of Kaillee showing him some art. He talks about the whole team like they're family. Those first workshop memories are precious. It was also where the community members got to know us for the first time. That system of care really gelled that summer.
And something that I am super proud of? Well, it is really nerdy. When I started this, my French paleography was okay but still a little subpar, and I could barely read an early modern Spanish legal document to save my life! But by the end of working on the project, especially after two years in the role of Senior Research Editor, I can read through a legajo almost like a regular book. I have even taught paleography and written guides on understanding Spanish shorthand. I didn’t see myself being able to do that when I started the project, but I’m now really proud of it. I've always been a polyglot, but now I have a level of transcription and translation skill that bodes really well for my future work. Dr. Johnson calls me a unicorn!
What is one piece of media (very broadly defined) that inspires your work? This is an opportunity to tell us about something you love, whether it’s a text you read in grad school that impacted you or an album you listen to on repeat.
I really like music. My biological mom is a very talented musician. I, like most kids in New Orleans, grew up learning to play instruments, but I wasn’t very good at it, at least not compared to her! New Orleans has a unique culture of music–in school, everyone learns to play flute or clarinet or snare drum or something like that as a kid. Music is a sacred practice in many Indigenous traditions, and it is also very important in a lot of Black and Creole families there, which is how you get your brilliant folks like the Marsalises and the Nevilles. So many kids grow up having music as a safe place. One of the first anti-violence campaigns I worked on was “Trumpets, Not Guns.” The idea was more music, less violence. The culture can save, you know? I learned to play many instruments as a child–piano, violin, bass, mostly strings–but didn’t keep up with it. My talents were more in writing and composing, so I went in that direction. I spent years doing slam poetry alongside some of the greats from Team SNO [Slam New Orleans].
I still love to listen to “stereotypical” New Orleans music, especially since I moved for school. I have a Pandora channel I made called “New Orleans Childhood,” and it has a great lineup: your Dr. John, James Booker, Professor Longhair, Ledbetter, Fats kind of thing. It brings me joy. It brings me home. It reminds me of sunny, cool February days standing in the middle of the street Uptown at parades or hot, muggy summer days with my uncle–who was a professional musician–in smoky bars (it was a different time!) or down the bayou out at venues on the water. I also love hip-hop, R&B, rap, and trap [laughs]. I came up with Lil Wayne–same grade in school and even lived down the street from his mama's house for a little while. And then, there is a whole string of music that comes out of Native communities that builds off of hip-hop and trap. You’ll see that especially in rez [reservation] communities, speaking to that experience. They’re mostly no-name artists, but some of them have blown up, like the Snotty Nose Rez Kids. One of my favorite rappers is Angel Haze. I just like music, I like New Orleans music, I like things with a good beat.
We had a really cool experience at this past year's summer workshop going to Treme’s Petit Jazz Museum. We started just playing and cutting up, how New Orleans folks do. There was one point where we all came together and started playing instruments, and we played a little song. It was so great to be able to create something different than the academic work we always do. It was fun to watch people loosen up in the moment and just have fun.
What DH tools, methods, or theories do you recommend for folks exploring digital humanities against enclosure?
This may be a strange answer, but I’m not going to recommend specific DH tools like programs or coding languages. I need people to start at the beginning and read! I recommend reading what folks like Dr. Johnson, Dr. Gallon, and Ms. Berry have put forth on why a different, critical DH praxis is necessary and how to ethically engage. We need to go back to literatures on restorative and reparative justice. People need to get grounded and engage in revolutionary and radical theoretical and literary works before getting into the physical work of doing digital humanities, especially in a world that is so digital. We’re moving into the AI age–there are so many pros, cons, and fears. Everyday I look at something and think, “This is why we need the humanities!” People need to start with ethics and the why before putting things out there in the world. Ultimately, we are all accountable.
What do you like to do in your free time or how do you recharge? We like to prioritize rest as part of our decolonial praxis.
I giggled at this because my last conversation with Dr. J was about prioritizing rest and mental health! As a parent, especially with a partner in healthcare who works long hours, I am always "on." A lot of the stuff I used to like to do to relax isn't really possible and now relaxation time often has had to incorporate my kid. We play a lot of video games together (he’s obsessed with cars so we’ve been playing racing games, like Asphalt), but we go on walks and I listen to music at the park while he plays. We love taking in the sun, the cool breeze. Lately, I've been prioritizing my health; just taking some deep breaths. I’m enjoying spending time with my kiddo, having some ice cream, listening to some dope music, and watching the leaves turn.
Is there anything I didn’t ask about that you want to share?
I want to express gratitude for the cool work I got to do, the amazing spaces I got to be in and travel to, and all of the brilliant people I got to meet [during my time in Keywords]. It’s a really cool, important, and unique thing that Dr. Johnson has created in academia that is sorely missing in other places. I hope to be able to build some semblance of that kind of space in my own career. Maybe nothing on that level, but I really want to build something great for my students, too.
To learn more about Leila, check out her personal website.
She was just awarded the William and Mary Quarterly’s New Voices Prize for her work on Indigenous and Afro-Indigenous enslavement. Congratulations, Leila!
You can also read a conversation she participated in on religion and reproductive violence at the Marty Center at the University of Chicago Divinity School or listen to a podcast she did on Indigeneity in academia.
More of Leila’s publications:
"Standing Up on River Road: Activism in South Louisiana," with Mary Niall Mitchell, University of New Orleans and Rutgers Humanities Action Lab (2019).
"How making space for Indigenous peoples changes history," with Caroline Dodds Pennock, in What Is History, Now?, Suzannah Lipscomb and Helen Carr, eds. (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 2021).
"Bulbancha is Still a Place: Decolonizing the History of the Present," in Louisiana Creole Peoplehood: Afro-Indigeneity and Community, with Jeffery U. Darensbourg, Rain Prud'homme-Cranford, Darryl Barthé and Andrew J. Jolivétte, eds. (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2022).
"A Gendered Frontier: Métissage and Indigenous Enslavement in Eighteenth-Century Basse-Louisiane,” Journal for Eighteenth-Century Studies 56, no. 2 (2023).
"'It Has Always Been Customary to Make Slaves of Savages': The Problem of Indian Slavery in Spanish Louisiana Revisited, 1769–1803," The William and Mary Quarterly 80, no. 3 (2023).
"Kinship & Longing: Keywords for Black Louisiana," with Jessica Marie Johnson, Olivia Barnard, Emma Bilski, and Ellie Palazzolo, Journal of Scholarly Editing 41, no. 1 (2024).
Some of Leila’s recent and upcoming appearances:
"Refuge as a Settler Colonial Practice," at Universiteit Leiden
"TEI for Black DH," at Universidad del Salvador, Buenos Aires
"Reclaiming Two-Spirits," at the Seminary Co-Op, Chicago
"Confronting Slavery's Archive," at UMD-College Park
"Is Death Not Preferable to Slavery?," at the McNeil Center, UPenn
"Nayina Wana Ayapah (We are Still Here)," with the Karankawa Tribe of Texas
"Displaced Indigeneity, Unsettling Histories," at the University of Glasgow
"Bvlbancha Public Access Radio," with the Lipan-Apache Tribe of Louisiana
This interview was conducted and edited for space and clarity by Dr. Brooke Lansing Mai.