Decolonising in practice: the strangers’ case
In this, the sixth in a series of blogposts from the Inclusive Cataloguing Working Group of the Diversity and Inclusion Allies, Philip Milnes-Smith discusses decolonising catalogues in a contemporary organisation without direct entanglement in empire.
Decolonising in practice: the strangers’ case
Shakespeare’s Globe, which was only completed and opened in the late 1990s, was intended to explore what could be learned from recreating the performing space(s) of his acting company. Although it had international backers and international reach, particularly in the Anglosphere, its date of foundation means there was no direct organisational involvement in the British Empire.
However, we have to acknowledge that Shakespeare has been (and remains) exploited by proponents of the white supremacist ideology that deems cultures in other continents inferior to those of White, Christian, Europe. Notwithstanding the reality that early modern plays were intended to be experienced aurally, in our individualistic capitalist culture even the fact of his plays having been written and published in his name has served as proof, for some, of their DWEM creator’s superiority over, for example, the anonymous oral practitioners spinning Anansi folktales in West Africa and its diaspora. Similarly, Shakespeare’s works have been unquestioningly deemed universally relevant in a way that, for example, Noh plays are not – and without any reflection on the affordances of empire in spreading his plays around the world.
By chance, we know that his plays were being performed on East India Company ships, both for recreation and to impress foreign dignitaries, in his lifetime. It is perhaps no coincidence that colonial era scholars preferred to make his crowning achievement The Tempest, a play which ‘others’ (as a bestial savage fit only for enslavement by a European) the indigenous inhabitant of the isle on which the action is set. Of course, enforcing readers to study his works as curricular content did not guarantee the students became fans, or that their sympathies would align with Prospero rather than Caliban.
Understanding our collections
Within an organisation which aims to remove barriers to Shakespeare, a major decolonising step is to educate ourselves not only about the barriers raised by the language and characterisation of the plays themselves, but the complex of historical, societal, and cultural issues arising from the use and abuse of the plays in the centuries since their first production (including in imperial contexts). In Othello, for example, even if the audience is not meant to sympathise with Brabantio and Iago, we nonetheless have a play in which the tragic hero becomes the disturbed and unreasoning danger to white women which their racist prejudice had made him out to be (reinforcing stereotypes that have real-world consequences in the present day). That doesn’t mean we want the plays pulped, but it does mean that how sensitively (or otherwise) productions handle them matters.
In other words, the potential for offence, distress and harm does not only lie in our catalogue descriptions, but in the records themselves. If we are aware of the issues, we are in a better position to look after our users.
Caring for the records subject in descriptive practices
Caring for the records subject can mean not prioritising Shakespeare from an English language perspective. For example, uMabatha which has been performed at the Globe in 1997 and 2001 was not simply a ‘Zulu Macbeth’, but a scripted, literary creation in its own right by a named writer (Welcome Msomi). It also means acknowledging contributions made by those whose names don’t appear in the programmes for a season: an impromptu post-show speech in 2007 was given by Tony Benn on the contemporary relevance of Chartism, while performances of Henry IV Parts 1 and 2 in 2019 had BSL interpretation from Janet Guest.
Sam Wanamaker, our founder, was not just an American actor whose career opportunities were limited by Macarthyism, but the son of a Ukrainian refugee of Jewish heritage, who had cancer (now regarded as a disability) in the final years of his life. All these facets of his identity matter – but not all of them are surfaced equally and some have been overlooked altogether. Similarly, Polly Hope was not simply the second wife of the Globe architect Theo Crosby, but an artist and designer in her own right.
Caring for more diverse users in descriptive practices
We also have to imagine that users could exist who are not like those we already have, and to think about the barriers to access that could (if unwittingly) have been erected in our existing descriptive practices and catalogues. This might help all users. For example, cataloguing performance recordings to item level enables any user to choose a specific recording (to see a change in cast, or hear a speech given at the end of the run, or at the presentation of an award). Repeating ‘redundant’ detail (inherited from the parent file) recognises the reality that the user may arrive at an entry directly rather than through the hierarchical structure of the catalogue.
In helping users find the stories of people like themselves in our collections we might like to draw attention (through subject guides, for example) to performers of colour, or with disabilities. However, this puts the archivist in the difficult position of applying identity labels to others.
Caring for the user also means not uncritically parroting the record creator’s perspective as if it were impartial, universal, and definitive. Acknowledging that intention to cause harm is not necessary for harm to have been caused, our cataloguing could help users find divergent perspectives. For example, making Gower a griot figure in 2005’s Pericles could be read as both inclusive and culturally appropriative. Similarly, even if part of the experimentation at the Globe has been with “colour-blind” and “gender-blind” casting, direction has often remained in the hands of white, male gatekeepers.
Caring for people
In my view, however, the most important decolonising step is to educate ourselves (as recordkeepers from an un-diverse profession), listening to, learning from, and putting ourselves in the shoes of, people unlike ourselves however we identify (“the strangers’ case”). Far from being divisive, this is an inclusive measure, recognising our common humanity, equipping us to care better for the colleagues (including volunteers) and users we already have, as well as those we might foster in the future through making our cataloguing more inclusive.
Thumbnail image photo credit Dazhi Me via Unsplash