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Education for Our Liberation
Reflections on the 60th Anniversary of the Summer 1964 SNCC Freedom School Program in Mississippi
“So that the question stands as to what we are willing to do,
how we are willing to say ‘no’ to withdraw from that system
and begin within our community to start to function
and to build new institutions that will speak to our needs.”
— Kwame Ture aka Stokely Carmichael, “Black Power” Speech, 1966
Throughout the history of Black freedom struggles—both in the United States and globally—questions of self-determination have remained constant. Whether the battle was against Jim Crow segregation or the cultural remnants of colonialism, visions for new institutions that center the needs of marginalized communities have been extensive. These visions have radically imagined alternatives to socioeconomic disenfranchisement: pinpointing community-based, consciousness-raising education as a key tool for freedom.
In December 1963, Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) field secretary Charlie Cobb penned a proposal for a summer Freedom School program in Mississippi to the SNCC executive committee, noting the need for some educational program that would supplement the lackluster and racist education Black high school students were receiving in the education system. Due to decades of racialized and gendered poverty, Black people in Mississippi had extreme barriers to educational opportunities. For instance, in the early 1960s, less than five percent of Black Mississippians were high school graduates (Strukey 2016). The SNCC executive committee approved the proposal, and a Freedom School was developed by members of SNCC (Chilcoat & Ligon 1995:24).
While racialized violence and discrimination continue into the twenty-first century, it would be remiss of us all not to acknowledge the extensive work done by organizations like SNCC to combat anti-Black racism in their communities.
Context, Curriculum, and Elements
Centering the lived experiences of Black students in Mississippi, the Freedom School curriculum was created by a collective of educators and activists over the course of a two-day conference. In addition to providing the students with extensive academic and intellectual support, the Freedom School was first and foremost proposed to nurture students’ political consciousness and give them the tools to organize against racial injustice themselves (Chilcoat & Ligon 1995:25). The curriculum contained a multitude of interdisciplinary elements:
- an academic component focused on developing reading, writing, and math skills,
- a citizenship component to encourage students to think critically about their community and draw connections between their personal experiences and the greater climate of white supremacy in the United States, and
- a ‘Guide to Negro History’ that explored the socio-political activism of Black people around the globe (SNCC Digital Gateway 2016).
By dedicating a large part of the curriculum to Black history, the SNCC Freedom Schools opened the path to a consciousness-raising model that stressed a connection with the greater African diaspora and affirmed notions of Black transnational identity for students. The schools themselves were attended by students voluntarily; Freedom School teachers knocked on doors in the community they taught in to explain the purpose of the school and invite students to attend. By relying on word of mouth, the Freedom School classes across Mississippi gained popularity among community members. By the end of the Summer of 1964, over fifty Freedom Schools had been created, reaching over 2,100 Mississippians both young and adult (Watson 2014).
SNCC’s leadership and teaching model was largely influenced by mentor Ella Baker, an organizer in the Civil Rights Movement who developed the educational pedagogy of ‘democratic education’ which aims to teach students “…about the emancipatory nature of learning and schooling” (Watson 2014). Due to this, the Freedom School curriculum was deliberately developed to invest in the leadership potential of all students and create a learning environment in which teachers and students were both co-creators of knowledge. SNCC recognized that the educational institutions in Mississippi were failing Black students in a multitude of ways, so the curriculum needed to be flexible enough to accommodate various student needs: as they studied the curriculum, teachers were told to discard it and to create, on the spot if necessary, activities and questions that responded to the needs of the students in front of them. The curriculum’s central premise, the importance of questioning, challenged the concept of a written curriculum. The Freedom School curriculum encouraged—in fact, mandated—that teachers improvise (Emery et al. 2004).
Although the majority of Freedom Schools started their day off with singing, each school differed in terms of its daily schedule and classroom content. While some Freedom School students wanted to spend the bulk of their day learning deeply about Black historical figures and events such as the Haitian Revolution or Harriet Tubman, other Freedom School students were concerned with improving reading/writing skills or learning French. Many Freedom School classrooms even focused on the Civil Rights Struggle waging across the nation and internationally at the time. Freedom School teachers pushed students to discuss among themselves organizing tactics and strategies for, for example, Black voter registration (Sturkey 2004). In addition to the use of discussion, Freedom Schools in Mississippi utilized a diverse range of artistic and literary methods to give students the tools needed to both push back on dominant white supremacist societal narratives and take pride in their identity as Black people.
Using poetry, plays, academic essays, roleplaying, and short stories, the 1964 Freedom Schools worked to reconstitute and refigure a Southern Black identity outside of the racism that historically marginalized and defined the life of a Black person in Mississippi. The Freedom School curriculum challenged the reductive 1960s imaginations of the so-called Southern United States as simply a poverty-stricken area and recognized (through art, performance, literature, etc.) that the censuring of Black history in standard textbooks minimized the traumatic history of enslavement and the Black experience in Mississippi. Moreover, many Freedom Schools published newsletters that included the art and writing of Freedom School students as well as news from the Freedom Summer voting registration organizing work (Emery et al. 2004). These newsletters voiced political consciousness and activism to an audience that went beyond the Black students and SNCC volunteers involved in the Freedom Summer campaign.
Funding
Teachers were not paid, so they had to arrange their own room and board in the (typically) small, rural town they’d be teaching in. The budgets of the Freedom Schools were nearly non-existent, so Freedom School teachers were also expected to crowdfund supplies for the classrooms themselves. For example, before the start of the Freedom Summer Campaign, all volunteers were expected to ask companies to contribute books and equipment. Freedom School teachers relied heavily on the communities they lived and worked in for support. While a small budget was calculated for each town, the communities themselves generally provided a place for the classes—e.g., in a church basement—and donated equipment like tape recorders or projectors (Emery et al. 2014).
The Legacy of the 1964 Freedom Summer Schools
The Freedom School program started in 1964 summer was explicitly designed to develop the power of Black Mississippians: the schools pushed to deconstruct the U.S. public educational system that operated (and continues to operate) by maintaining elitist, eurocentric standards of intellect. Through its cultural and educational work, the Freedom Schools created spaces that supported and empowered Black people in a society that did not readily supply that knowledge. For many students, the Freedom Schools served as an entirely new opportunity to dream and envision a future beyond the constraints of exploitative sharecropping or racial terror.
The Freedom School educational model, of providing alternative education as a means of pushing back on dominant narratives and unapologetically claiming the human right to decent education, continued to influence activists beyond just the sociohistorical moment of Freedom Summer. After the summer ended, some Freedom School volunteer teachers decided to stay in Mississippi and continued to facilitate classes into the fall of 1964. Depending on the community, Freedom Schools served as community hubs for tutoring young Black people after school, held nighttime classes for Black adults and the voter registration effort, or continued classes for “children whose regular public school classes had been suspended for cotton-picking” (Emery et al. 2004).
As the Black Freedom Struggle continued, notions of ‘democratic education’ remained present in the ideological framework of the Black Power era institution-building (Carmichael 1966:53) and contemporary freedom projects such as the Children’s Defense Fund Freedom School Program which “…serve[s] children and youth in grades K–12 in communities where quality academic enrichment programming is limited, too expensive, or non-existent” (Children’s Defense Fund New York) or the Gaza solidarity encampments on college campuses globally throughout the Spring of 2024 that offered public, political education programming. Although institutional racism and race-based school segregation remain a serious problem (Hale 2014), dozens of freedom schools in the United States today identify the 1964 SNCC Freedom Schools as an influence. Liberation struggles across the globe, from Turtle Island to Palestine, continue to push for change by employing similar educational strategies to inspire others to fight for collective liberation.
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{
"article":
{
"title" : "Education for Our Liberation: Reflections on the 60th Anniversary of the Summer 1964 SNCC Freedom School Program in Mississippi",
"author" : "maya finoh",
"category" : "essays",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/education-for-our-liberation-reflections-on-the-60th-anniversary-of-the-summer-1964-sncc-freedom-school-program-in-mississippi",
"date" : "2024-09-05 21:47:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/sncc-thumb.jpg",
"excerpt" : "“So that the question stands as to what we are willing to do,how we are willing to say ‘no’ to withdraw from that systemand begin within our community to start to functionand to build new institutions that will speak to our needs.”— Kwame Ture aka Stokely Carmichael, “Black Power” Speech, 19661 Carmichael, Stokely. “Black Power.” Voices of Democracy, University of California at Berkeley, Oct. 29, 1966, www.voicesofdemocracy.umd.edu/carmichael-black-power-speech-text. ↩ ",
"content" : "“So that the question stands as to what we are willing to do,how we are willing to say ‘no’ to withdraw from that systemand begin within our community to start to functionand to build new institutions that will speak to our needs.”— Kwame Ture aka Stokely Carmichael, “Black Power” Speech, 19661Throughout the history of Black freedom struggles—both in the United States and globally—questions of self-determination have remained constant. Whether the battle was against Jim Crow segregation or the cultural remnants of colonialism, visions for new institutions that center the needs of marginalized communities have been extensive. These visions have radically imagined alternatives to socioeconomic disenfranchisement: pinpointing community-based, consciousness-raising education as a key tool for freedom.In December 1963, Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) field secretary Charlie Cobb penned a proposal for a summer Freedom School program in Mississippi to the SNCC executive committee2, noting the need for some educational program that would supplement the lackluster and racist education Black high school students were receiving in the education system. Due to decades of racialized and gendered poverty, Black people in Mississippi had extreme barriers to educational opportunities. For instance, in the early 1960s, less than five percent of Black Mississippians were high school graduates (Strukey 2016)3. The SNCC executive committee approved the proposal, and a Freedom School was developed by members of SNCC (Chilcoat & Ligon 1995:24)4. While racialized violence and discrimination continue into the twenty-first century, it would be remiss of us all not to acknowledge the extensive work done by organizations like SNCC to combat anti-Black racism in their communities.Context, Curriculum, and ElementsCentering the lived experiences of Black students in Mississippi, the Freedom School curriculum was created by a collective of educators and activists over the course of a two-day conference. In addition to providing the students with extensive academic and intellectual support, the Freedom School was first and foremost proposed to nurture students’ political consciousness and give them the tools to organize against racial injustice themselves (Chilcoat & Ligon 1995:25)4. The curriculum contained a multitude of interdisciplinary elements: an academic component focused on developing reading, writing, and math skills, a citizenship component to encourage students to think critically about their community and draw connections between their personal experiences and the greater climate of white supremacy in the United States, and a ‘Guide to Negro History’ that explored the socio-political activism of Black people around the globe (SNCC Digital Gateway 2016)5.By dedicating a large part of the curriculum to Black history, the SNCC Freedom Schools opened the path to a consciousness-raising model that stressed a connection with the greater African diaspora and affirmed notions of Black transnational identity for students. The schools themselves were attended by students voluntarily; Freedom School teachers knocked on doors in the community they taught in to explain the purpose of the school and invite students to attend. By relying on word of mouth, the Freedom School classes across Mississippi gained popularity among community members. By the end of the Summer of 1964, over fifty Freedom Schools had been created, reaching over 2,100 Mississippians both young and adult (Watson 2014)6.SNCC’s leadership and teaching model was largely influenced by mentor Ella Baker, an organizer in the Civil Rights Movement who developed the educational pedagogy of ‘democratic education’ which aims to teach students “…about the emancipatory nature of learning and schooling” (Watson 2014)6. Due to this, the Freedom School curriculum was deliberately developed to invest in the leadership potential of all students and create a learning environment in which teachers and students were both co-creators of knowledge. SNCC recognized that the educational institutions in Mississippi were failing Black students in a multitude of ways, so the curriculum needed to be flexible enough to accommodate various student needs: as they studied the curriculum, teachers were told to discard it and to create, on the spot if necessary, activities and questions that responded to the needs of the students in front of them. The curriculum’s central premise, the importance of questioning, challenged the concept of a written curriculum. The Freedom School curriculum encouraged—in fact, mandated—that teachers improvise (Emery et al. 2004)7.Although the majority of Freedom Schools started their day off with singing, each school differed in terms of its daily schedule and classroom content. While some Freedom School students wanted to spend the bulk of their day learning deeply about Black historical figures and events such as the Haitian Revolution or Harriet Tubman, other Freedom School students were concerned with improving reading/writing skills or learning French. Many Freedom School classrooms even focused on the Civil Rights Struggle waging across the nation and internationally at the time. Freedom School teachers pushed students to discuss among themselves organizing tactics and strategies for, for example, Black voter registration (Sturkey 2004)3. In addition to the use of discussion, Freedom Schools in Mississippi utilized a diverse range of artistic and literary methods to give students the tools needed to both push back on dominant white supremacist societal narratives and take pride in their identity as Black people.Using poetry, plays, academic essays, roleplaying, and short stories, the 1964 Freedom Schools worked to reconstitute and refigure a Southern Black identity outside of the racism that historically marginalized and defined the life of a Black person in Mississippi. The Freedom School curriculum challenged the reductive 1960s imaginations of the so-called Southern United States as simply a poverty-stricken area and recognized (through art, performance, literature, etc.) that the censuring of Black history in standard textbooks minimized the traumatic history of enslavement and the Black experience in Mississippi. Moreover, many Freedom Schools published newsletters that included the art and writing of Freedom School students as well as news from the Freedom Summer voting registration organizing work (Emery et al. 2004)7. These newsletters voiced political consciousness and activism to an audience that went beyond the Black students and SNCC volunteers involved in the Freedom Summer campaign.FundingTeachers were not paid, so they had to arrange their own room and board in the (typically) small, rural town they’d be teaching in. The budgets of the Freedom Schools were nearly non-existent, so Freedom School teachers were also expected to crowdfund supplies for the classrooms themselves. For example, before the start of the Freedom Summer Campaign, all volunteers were expected to ask companies to contribute books and equipment. Freedom School teachers relied heavily on the communities they lived and worked in for support. While a small budget was calculated for each town, the communities themselves generally provided a place for the classes—e.g., in a church basement—and donated equipment like tape recorders or projectors (Emery et al. 2014)7.The Legacy of the 1964 Freedom Summer SchoolsThe Freedom School program started in 1964 summer was explicitly designed to develop the power of Black Mississippians: the schools pushed to deconstruct the U.S. public educational system that operated (and continues to operate) by maintaining elitist, eurocentric standards of intellect. Through its cultural and educational work, the Freedom Schools created spaces that supported and empowered Black people in a society that did not readily supply that knowledge. For many students, the Freedom Schools served as an entirely new opportunity to dream and envision a future beyond the constraints of exploitative sharecropping or racial terror.The Freedom School educational model, of providing alternative education as a means of pushing back on dominant narratives and unapologetically claiming the human right to decent education, continued to influence activists beyond just the sociohistorical moment of Freedom Summer. After the summer ended, some Freedom School volunteer teachers decided to stay in Mississippi and continued to facilitate classes into the fall of 1964. Depending on the community, Freedom Schools served as community hubs for tutoring young Black people after school, held nighttime classes for Black adults and the voter registration effort, or continued classes for “children whose regular public school classes had been suspended for cotton-picking” (Emery et al. 2004)7.As the Black Freedom Struggle continued, notions of ‘democratic education’ remained present in the ideological framework of the Black Power era institution-building (Carmichael 1966:53)1 and contemporary freedom projects such as the Children’s Defense Fund Freedom School Program which “…serve[s] children and youth in grades K–12 in communities where quality academic enrichment programming is limited, too expensive, or non-existent” (Children’s Defense Fund New York)8 or the Gaza solidarity encampments on college campuses globally throughout the Spring of 2024 that offered public, political education programming. Although institutional racism and race-based school segregation remain a serious problem (Hale 2014)9, dozens of freedom schools in the United States today identify the 1964 SNCC Freedom Schools as an influence. Liberation struggles across the globe, from Turtle Island to Palestine, continue to push for change by employing similar educational strategies to inspire others to fight for collective liberation.References Carmichael, Stokely. “Black Power.” Voices of Democracy, University of California at Berkeley, Oct. 29, 1966, www.voicesofdemocracy.umd.edu/carmichael-black-power-speech-text. ↩ ↩2 Charles Cobb, “Prospectus for a Summer Freedom School Program in Mississippi (Excerpt).” HERB: Resources for Teachers, www.herb.ashp.cuny.edu/items/show/1158. ↩ Sturkey, William. “The 1964 Mississippi Freedom Schools.” Mississippi History Now, Mississippi Historical Society, May 2016, mshistorynow.mdah.ms.gov/articles/403/The-1964-Mississippi-Freedom-Schools. ↩ ↩2 Chilcoat, George W., and Jerry A. Ligon. “‘We Will Teach What Democracy Really Means By Living Democratically Within Our Own Schools’ Lessons From the Personal Experience of Teachers Who Taught in the Mississippi Freedom Schools.” Education and Culture 12, no. 1 (1995): 24-42. ↩ ↩2 “Freedom Schools.” SNCC Digital Gateway, SNCC Legacy Project and Duke University, Dec. 2016, www.snccdigital.org/inside-sncc/culture-education/freedom-schools. ↩ Watson, Marcia. “Beyond Slavery And The Civil Rights Movement: Freedom Schools And Transformative Education.” African American Intellectual History Society. Oct. 16, 2014, www.aaihs.org/beyond-slavery-and-the-civil-rights-movement-freedom-schools-and-transformative-education. ↩ ↩2 Emery, Kathy, Sylvia Braselmann, and Linda Reid Gold. “Introduction: Freedom Summer and the Freedom Schools.” Education and Democracy, The San Francisco Freedom School, 2004, www.educationanddemocracy.org/FSCfiles/A_02_Introduction.htm#_edn16. ↩ ↩2 ↩3 ↩4 “New York Freedom Schools.” Children’s Defense Fund New York. Children’s Defense Fund, www.cdfny.org/programs/cdf-freedom-schools/new-york-freedom-schools. ↩ Hale, Jon N. “The Forgotten Story of the Freedom Schools.” The Atlantic, Atlantic Media Company, Jun. 26, 2014, www.theatlantic.com/education/archive/2014/06/the-depressing-legacy-of-freedom-schools/373490. ↩ "
}
,
"relatedposts": [
{
"title" : "Narrative Sovereignty in the American Wing of The Met: Don't Miss ENCODED at the MET",
"author" : "",
"category" : "",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/narrative-sovereignty-in-the-american-wing-of-the-met",
"date" : "2025-12-22 12:58:00 -0500",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/Cover_EIP_Hidden_Exhibition.jpg",
"excerpt" : "As artists and multicultural activists, we did not come to the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s American Wing seeking permission, instead we showed up to the work with intention, responsibility, and a commitment to truth. ENCODED: Change the Story, Change the Future exists because silence is not neutral, presence without agency is insufficient and solidarity across values-based creativity is essential for liberation.",
"content" : "As artists and multicultural activists, we did not come to the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s American Wing seeking permission, instead we showed up to the work with intention, responsibility, and a commitment to truth. ENCODED: Change the Story, Change the Future exists because silence is not neutral, presence without agency is insufficient and solidarity across values-based creativity is essential for liberation.The American Wing is often described as a celebration of American art, yet it also functions as a carefully curated archive of colonial mythology and westward expansion propaganda. Its paintings and sculptures rehearse familiar narratives: conquest framed as destiny, extraction framed as progress, whiteness framed as purity, Indigenous absence framed as inevitability. These works are not merely historical artifacts; they are instruments of narrative power. They encode ideas about belonging, legitimacy, and nationhood, ideas that continue to shape cultural consciousness and public policy today. ENCODED intervenes in this institutional space not to negate history, but to complicate it. Using augmented reality, the exhibition overlays Indigenous artistic expression and counter-narratives directly onto famous works in the American Wing, reframing them through Indigenous epistemologies, lived experience, and historical truth. This is not an act of erasure. It is an act of expansion and an overt insistence that American art history is incomplete without Indigenous voice, presence, and critique.At its core, ENCODED is grounded in the principle of narrative sovereignty. Narrative sovereignty asserts that communities most impacted by historical and ongoing harm such as Indigenous peoples, Afro-descendant people, Palestinians, Pacific Islanders, Trans folks and the working class all must have the authority to tell their own stories, in their own words, and within the institutions that have historically excluded or misrepresented them. This is not a symbolic gesture. It is a democratic imperative.Democracy depends on access to truth. When museums present a singular, sanitized vision of history, they do not merely reflect power, they reinforce it. The American Wing has long upheld myths of “taming the West” and the so-called exhaustion of empire, narratives that obscure the violence of settler colonialism, normalize Indigenous dispossession and chattel slavery. ENCODED challenges these myths by making visible what has been omitted: resistance, survival, continuity, solidarity and accountability. For me, I also hope this intervention reflects back to museum goers and viewers the perils of authoritarianism, fascism and ongoing colonial projects such as legacy media consolidation, rapid creation of datacenters to produce AI, cutting access to healthcare, education, rights, or the current US regime’s attempt to erase history by any means necessary.The artists participating in ENCODED are not responding nostalgically to the past. They are engaging the present. Their work examines how colonial narratives persist in contemporary systems including environmental destruction justified by extraction, racial hierarchies reinforced through cultural storytelling, and institutions that benefit from the aesthetics of inclusion while resisting structural change. These are not abstract critiques; they are lived realities and for me deep lessons that have been shaped by having formerly worked at a neocolonial conservation nonprofit ran by wealthy cis wyt men and their enablers for nearly five years.Artistic integrity, in this context, cannot be separated from ethical responsibility. For too long, the art world has upheld a false binary between aesthetics and politics, suggesting that rigor diminishes when artists engage power directly. ENCODED rejects this premise. Integrity is not neutrality. Integrity is the willingness to tell the truth, even when it destabilizes comfort or prestige. Walking with integrity can be painful and takes courage.Importantly, ENCODED is not positioned as a protest staged outside the institution, nor as a request for institutional validation. It is an act of presence with agency. The project uses accessible technology to meet audiences where they are, inviting participation rather than reverence. Viewers scan QR codes and encounter layered narratives that ask them to look again, listen differently, and question inherited assumptions. Except for a few organized tours, the experience is self-guided, decentralized, and deliberately democratic. It’s also fun, and it is so special to hear the familiar sounds from the ENCODED pieces ring throughout the galleries signalling that kin is close by.This kinship network and accessibility is central to the work. Cultural literacy should not be gated by academic language, curatorial authority, white exceptionalism or economic privilege. By operating through personal devices, ENCODED rejects the museum’s traditional hierarchy of knowledge and affirms that interpretation is a shared civic space. The exhibition does not dictate conclusions; it creates conditions for reckoning and deep dialogue.Solidarity is another foundational principle of the project. ENCODED brings together Indigenous artists across nations and disciplines, in relationship with Black, Brown, and allied communities who recognize that colonialism is not a single-issue structure. The logics that dispossessed Indigenous peoples are the same logics that underwrote slavery, environmental exploitation, the seizing of Palestine, forced child mining labor of cobalt in Congo and in general global empire. Working in solidarity does not collapse difference; it honors specificity while resisting division and acknowledging historic patterns of systemic oppression.In a cultural landscape shaped by scarcity and competition, ENCODED models an alternative, one rooted in collective presence, shared resources, and mutual accountability. The project refuses the extractive norms of both empire and the contemporary art economy, offering instead a relational approach grounded in care, collaboration, and long-term impact on community.The decision to situate ENCODED within the American Wing was deliberate. Indigenous art has too often been confined to anthropological contexts or framed as premodern, separate from the narrative of American art. ENCODED asserts what has always been true: Indigenous peoples are not peripheral to American history; we are foundational to it. Our stories do not belong on the margins, nor do they belong solely to the past or through a white gaze.Yet presence without counter-narrative risks assimilation. ENCODED insists that visibility must be accompanied by authorship. By intervening directly within the American Wing, the project challenges the authority of colonial framing and invites institutions to reckon with their role in shaping public memory. Our hope is that eventually the Met will see this as an opportunity to engage in discussion and support its presence well into 2026.There is risk in this work. Naming colonial propaganda within revered institutions invites discomfort, defensiveness, and critique. But risk is inseparable from integrity. Artists and cultural workers are accountable not only to institutions and audiences, but to future generations. The question is not whether institutions will change, but whether artists will continue to lead with courage when they do not.ENCODED is an offering and a provocation. It asks what it means to inherit a cultural legacy and whether we are willing to transform it. Empire is not exhausted; it is contested. And art remains one of the most powerful sites of that contestation. When we change the story, we do change the future. Not through erasure, but through expansion. Not through dominance, but through relationship.Ultimately, ENCODED affirms that art is not merely a reflection of society, but a tool for shaping it and that when artists from the margins claim space at the center, together and with integrity, we open pathways toward a more honest, inclusive, and democratic cultural future. Join us.To access ENCODED review the exhibit website for instructions. While at the Met scan the QR code and click through the prompts for the self guided tour.https://www.encodedatthemet.com"
}
,
{
"title" : "The Aesthetics of Atrocity: Lockheed Martin’s Streetwear Pivot",
"author" : "Louis Pisano",
"category" : "",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/the-aesthetics-of-atrocity",
"date" : "2025-12-20 10:30:00 -0500",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/Cover_EIP_Lockheed_StreetWar.jpg",
"excerpt" : "On December 12, The Business of Fashion published an article titled “The Unlikely Rise and Uncertain Future of Lockheed Martin Streetwear,” detailing the world’s largest arms manufacturer’s entrance into casual apparel.",
"content" : "On December 12, The Business of Fashion published an article titled “The Unlikely Rise and Uncertain Future of Lockheed Martin Streetwear,” detailing the world’s largest arms manufacturer’s entrance into casual apparel.Through a licensing deal with South Korea’s Doojin Yanghang Corp., Lockheed turns fighter jet graphics, corporate slogans, and its star logo into gorpcore staples. Oversized outerwear, tactical pants, and advanced synthetic fabrics sell out at Seoul pop-ups like the Hyundai department store with young Korean consumers chasing the edgy, functional vibe. Andy Koh, a Seoul-based content creator, tells BoF that while arms manufacturing is, in theory, political, he has never encountered widespread discomfort among Korean consumers. “As long as it looks cool and the product functions as expected,” he says, “they seem okay with it.”This trend aligns with a broader South Korean fashion phenomenon: licensing logos from global non-fashion brands to create popular streetwear lines. Examples include National Geographic puffers, Yale crewnecks, Kodak retro tees, CNN hoodies, Discovery jackets, Jeep outdoor wear, and university apparel from institutions like Harvard and UCLA. These licensed collections, often featuring media, academia, sports leagues, or adventure themes, have become staples on online retailers like Musinsa and in brick-and-mortar stores, propelled by K-pop influence and a tech-savvy youth market that make these odd crossovers multimillion-dollar successes.Lockheed, however, is categorically different. Its core business is not exploration, education, or journalism. It is industrialized death, and its arrival in fashion forces a reckoning with how far commodification can stretch.Having spent years in the military, maybe I’m the wrong person to critique this. Or maybe I’m exactly the right one. I know what weapons are for, how they’re used, and the human cost they carry. Lockheed manufactures F-16 and F-35 fighter jets, Hellfire missiles, and precision-guided systems that human rights organizations have repeatedly linked to civilian casualties across multiple conflicts. In Yemen, U.S.-supplied weapons incorporating Lockheed technology contributed to thousands of civilian deaths since 2015, most notoriously the 2018 airstrike on a school bus in Saada that killed dozens of children. In Gaza, since October 2023, Lockheed-supplied F-35s and munitions have formed the backbone of air operations that Amnesty International and other watchdogs have flagged for potential violations of international humanitarian law, cases now under examination by the International Court of Justice.In 2024, the company reported $71 billion in revenue, almost entirely from military contracts, with more than 1,100 F-35s already delivered worldwide and production lines running hotter than ever. That staggering scale is the reality lurking beneath a logo now casually printed on everyday apparel.So why does the planet’s largest arms manufacturer license its brand to streetwear? The answer seems to be twofold: easy money and sophisticated image laundering. Licensing delivers low-risk royalties from Korea’s reported $35-40 billion apparel market with virtually no operational headache. Lockheed simply collects checks while a third-party manufacturer handles design, production, distribution, and deals with all the mess of retail.The far more ambitious goal, however, is reputational refurbishment. Doojin deliberately markets the line around “future-oriented technical aesthetics” and “aerospace innovation,” leaning on cutting-edge fabrics to conjure high-tech futurism instead of battlefield carnage. By late 2025, as U.S. favorability in South Korea continued to slide amid trade tensions and regional geopolitical shifts, the brand quietly de-emphasized its American roots, according to Lockheed representatives. The strategy clearly tries to sever the logo from political controversy and plant it firmly in youth culture, where aesthetic appeal routinely outmuscles ethical concern.Lockheed has honed this kind of rebranding for decades. Their corporate brochures overflow with talk of “driving innovation” and “advancing scientific discovery,” spotlighting STEM scholarships, veteran hiring initiatives, and rapid-response disaster aid. The clothing itself carries the same sanitized messaging. One prominent slogan reads “Ensuring those we serve always stay ahead of ready”, euphemistic corporate-speak that sounds heroic until you remember that “those we serve” includes forces deploying Hellfire missiles against civilian targets. Other pieces feature F-35 graphics paired with copy declaring the jet “strengthens national security, enhances global partnerships, and powers economic growth”. It’s textbook PR varnish. Instruments designed for lethal efficiency, now rebranded as symbols of progress and prosperity.We’ve also seen this trick before: Fast fashion brands that slap “sustainable” labels on sweatshop products. Tech giants that fund glamorous art installations while they harvest user data. Oil companies that rebrand themselves as forward-thinking “energy” players as the Earth’s climate burns. Lockheed, though, traffics in something uniquely irreversible: export-grade death. By licensing its identity to apparel, multibillion-dollar arms contracts are reduced to mere intellectual property; civilian casualties dissolved into, simply, background static.In other words, vibes overpower victims. And when those vibes are stamped with the logo of the planet’s preeminent death merchant, resistance feels futile.Gorpcore has always drawn from military surplus for its rugged utility: endless cargo pockets, indestructible nylons, tactical silhouettes born in combat and repurposed for city streets. Brands like Arc’teryx, The North Face, and Supreme mine that heritage for authenticity and performance. After World War II, army fatigues became symbols of genuine rebellion, worn by anti-war protesters as an act of defiance against the establishment. Today, the dynamic threatens to invert entirely. The establishment itself, the world’s preeminent arms dealer, now supplies the “authentic” merchandise, turning subversion into subtle endorsement.Streetwear grew out of skate culture, hip-hop, and grassroots rebellion against mainstream norms. Importing the aesthetics of atrocity risks converting that legacy into compliance, rendering militarism the newest version of mainstream cool. For a generation immersed in filtered feeds and rapid trend cycles, Lockheed’s logo can sit comfortably beside NASA patches or National Geographic emblems, conveniently severed from the charred wreckage in Saada or the devastation in Gaza. Research on “ethical fading” demonstrates how strong visual design can mute moral alarms, a phenomenon intensified in Korea’s hyper-trendy ecosystem, where mandatory military service may further desensitize young consumers to defense branding while K-pop’s global engine drives relentless consumption.If the line proves durable, escalation feels inevitable. Palantir, another cornerstone of the defense-tech world, has already gone there, hyping limited merch drops that sell out in hours: $99 athletic shorts stamped “PLTR—TECH,” $119 nylon totes, hoodies emblazoned with CEO Alex Karp’s likeness or slogans about “dominating” threats. What’s to stop Northrop Grumman from launching its own techwear line? Or BAE Systems from dropping high-end collaborations?Lockheed already licenses merchandise worldwide through various agencies; broader international rollouts beyond Korea seem only a matter of time. Backlash is possible, boycotts from ethically minded buyers, perhaps even regulatory scrutiny as anti-militarism sentiment swells. Gorpcore’s longstanding flirtation with military aesthetics could calcify into outright fetish, obliterating whatever daylight remained between practical function and state-sanctioned propaganda.Yet, history suggests that in oversaturated markets, “cool” almost always trumps conscience. Lockheed’s streetwear pivot is a stark illustration of how fashion and culture launder raw power, enabling the machinery of war to conceal itself among hype, hoodies, and sold-out drops."
}
,
{
"title" : "Our Era of Insecurity: How Unaffordability and Uncertainty Became Our Monoculture",
"author" : "Alissa Quart",
"category" : "essays",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/our-era-of-insecurity",
"date" : "2025-12-16 11:56:00 -0500",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/Cover_EIP_Unaffordability.jpg",
"excerpt" : "In 2025, I’ve interviewed a number of people who saw themselves as living in “survival mode.” At first, their professions might surprise you. They are government contractors, public broadcasters, and tech workers, formerly safe professions. And some of their jobs disappeared this year due to DOGE “efficiency” cuts, the dismantling of the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, and AI acceleration. They are among the millions now living through an experience that I call terra infirma, a new level of economic and social uncertainty.",
"content" : "In 2025, I’ve interviewed a number of people who saw themselves as living in “survival mode.” At first, their professions might surprise you. They are government contractors, public broadcasters, and tech workers, formerly safe professions. And some of their jobs disappeared this year due to DOGE “efficiency” cuts, the dismantling of the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, and AI acceleration. They are among the millions now living through an experience that I call terra infirma, a new level of economic and social uncertainty.It’s the mood that encapsulates so much of Trump 2.0. A November 2025 Pew study found that almost half of U.S. adults are uncertain about having enough retirement income. When it comes to health insurance, they may be waiting for their ACA health subsidies to sunset or for their partner’s premiums to skyrocket. Addressing unaffordability and uncertainty is even the newest theme song in politics, most recently in the Maine campaign of gubernatorial candidate, oyster farmer and military veteran Graham Platner.Seventy years ago, the critic Raymond Williams used the term “structure of feeling” to describe a collective emotion that is tied to a time and place, as well as social and economic conditions. Today, our “structure of feeling” is uncertainty. You could even take it further, and call “precarity” the last monoculture as it’s a condition shared by so many Americans. As Astra Taylor, author of The Age of Insecurity: Coming Together as Things Fall Apart, says, insecurity is a “defining feature of our time.”As far as mass moods go, “insecurity” is certainly a disconcerting one. The economist Pranab Bardhan writes in A World of Insecurity, that “insecurity, more than inequality, agitates people.” What makes 2025 different from other years, however, is the degree to which we all experienced this precarity. The usual uncertainty level has been turned up from a whine to a 135-decibel air raid scream.What’s happened? Tariffs have raised our costs. Medicaid will be scaled back over the next decade by a trillion dollars. Meanwhile, dozens of Venezuelan fishermen have been exploded by our armed forces. And while two-thirds of Americans are already living with economic insecurity, their feelings about it don’t necessarily involve the discrepancy between their lot and those of the very rich. As Steven Semler, the co-founder of Security Policy Reform Institute (SPRI), explains it to me, these Americans have a mindset that “is more fearful of poverty than aspirations of being a millionaire.”The people of terra infirma do describe such fears. In the words of one, they’ve experienced a “mental health decline and a loss of purpose” and in another, “a serious financial pinch”, because they are their family’s main breadwinner. Uncertainty is the common refrain of the growing number of laid-off software workers, according to Human-Centered Design scholar Samuel So. In addition to feeling destabilized about their professional security for the first time, software workers have experienced disillusionment and alienation from the technology industry’s “military and police partnerships.” Jobs themselves are part of this insecurity, with never-ending hiring processes, the race of automation, and ghost jobs, the twisted contemporary version of the perished Russian serfs of Nikolai Gogol’s Dead Souls, except now professional opportunities are offered that don’t actually exist. People are also nervous about their future, because insecurity is a temporal emotion, as much about the future as the present. Many of us wonder how our security will further erode, as our health plan premiums soar, or as our subways catch on fire, or as ICE comes to our cities. This causes not only stress in the moment, but discomfort about what lies ahead.Of course, it’s not just Trump 2.0 alone that has caused this. The forces behind Trump’s win in 2024—and the anger at the traditional Democratic party—have something to do with this disposition, as well. In the weeks leading up to Trump’s election, people surveyed by the Federal Reserve Board ranked one of their top concerns as pricing and their top concern as inflation. Disparate phenomena—AI slop, job cuts, relentless and confusing cutbacks in crucial academic research—are entwined. It’s as if they were all figures in a paranoiac Thomas Pynchon novel. In a “world of insecurity,” as economist Bardhan writes, instabilities interlink. In other words, what I think of as “informational insecurity”—bots, false ads, fake news—often joins up with economic instability.These different instances of confusion and instability blend into a gnarly color wheel of distress. Economic distress, sure—that is also accentuated by societal, cultural, environmental, and physical examples of insecurity we see all around us, every day.How do we pick apart these knotted-together insecurities? For starters, we can embrace candidates who address economic uncertainty head-on, including New York’s new mayor, Zohran Mamdani, Seattle’s new mayor, Katie Wilson, and Virginia’s governor-elect Abigail Spanberger. These politicians, as Nicholas Jacobs has written of Maine candidate Platner, are “speaking to grievances that are real, measurable, and decades in the making.”Another line of defense is being brave and grasping for community in any way we can. I think of the ordinary people blowing whistles near Chicago to alert their neighbors when ICE showed up in their suburban towns: they were accidental upstanders, refusing to be part of manufactured uncertainty and instability.One traditional definition of security is “freedom from fear.” And while we are unlikely to experience that freedom from fear as long as the populist American Right continues its goosestep, it’s also important to remember that uncertainty, like any “structure of feeling,” is an unfinished emotion.Yes, insecurity shapes us now. But we, as a collective, are so much more than it. Because even if we are living in a time of such negative uncertainty, it won’t necessarily stay that way. We can still redefine ourselves and, most importantly, recognize we are not alone."
}
]
}