Her name is now emblazoned on a major downtown thoroughfare, attached to a nationally recognized journalism training program and even used by a soul food restaurant in Baltimore.
For decades, crusading journalist, civil rights activist and women’s rights pioneer Ida B. Wells-Barnett’s legacy and story lingered in the shadows of history. But in recent years, as historians, activists and scholars brought her story to light and a new generation embraced her, that obscurity has lifted.
Now, her descendants find themselves grappling with how to control her image and her name to ensure that projects in her honor properly salute her. The families of civil rights icons Emmett Till and Fred Hampton are facing similar issues, as they work to both promote and protect the names of their forebears.
These descendants carry a unique burden because their loved ones gained fame for their roles in the struggle for social justice, which means the families feel they have to be particularly careful about how the those names and images are used.
“There are people out here that love Ida and they want to make clothes and wear things with her image on it,” said Michelle Duster, the great-granddaughter of Wells-Barnett who has emerged as the spokeswoman for her family.
But the family sometimes learns only in passing that Wells-Barnett’s name has been used for murals, posters, causes and events, Duster said. As one example, she pointed to Ida’s Legacy, a Bronzeville political organization that supports and endorses African American women running for public office. The family has no affiliation with the group, she said.
“We have the Ida B. Wells Memorial Foundation. And they are Ida’s Legacy, operating in the same city,” Duster said. “It has caused so much confusion for our family.
“I never thought I needed to protect Ida’s name. These situations are making us say, ‘Wow, we need to be more formal about things.’ “
It was the goal of Mamie Till Mobley to keep her son Emmett Till’s story in the spotlight and to never let the public forget how the 14-year-old was brutally beaten and lynched by two white men in Money, Mississippi.
But in some cases, people invoke Till’s name for various projects without informing the family or seeking their input, said Airickca Gordon-Taylor, a cousin of Till Mobley who says she’s more like a surrogate daughter.
“We never get contacted,” she said. “Eighty-five percent of the time our family isn’t contacted for projects in memory to quote unquote honor him. Or to honor Mamie.”
She acknowledged that there is a split among Till’s surviving family, in part because of differing visions on how to preserve the Till name and legacy. His descendants in Minneapolis run the Emmett Till Legacy Foundation, which focuses on using Till’s story as an educational tool.
In Chicago, his descendants control the Mamie Till Mobley Memorial Foundation, which is attached to her estate and tells the story from her viewpoint. Till Mobley never had any other children and devoted her life to talking about her son and what happened to him the summer she sent him from Chicago to visit relatives in the South. His brutal murder and treatment was a catalyst for the civil rights movement.
Last week, the Chicago descendants placed balloons on Till’s grave at Burr Oak Cemetery to commemorate what would have been his 78th birthday. They are currently campaigning to get permission to place a bench near his gravesite.
Even with two organizations, there are too many fundraisers, films and mentions in books or movies about Till to police and critique, or to even applaud and celebrate, Gordon-Taylor said.
“There are organizations and people that want to represent Till this way or that way,” Gordon-Taylor said. “Some may try to profit from the story. And it could be in a good way, but it’s still disrespectful when they don’t acknowledge Mamie’s surviving family. It causes conflicts.”
In June, a photo of Emmett Till appeared on the big screen at Guaranteed Rate Field during a White Sox game along with images of game show host Pat Sajak and actor Orson Welles under the banner “Other Famous People from Chicagoland.” The display was criticized, and the team admitted it was “in bad form.” Gordon-Taylor said the family was never consulted for their take.
“It’s OK for others to honor the history, but there should be decency and order,” Gordon-Taylor said. “It amazes me. To know that it’s been almost 64 years since Emmett Till’s murder and he is mentioned almost every day. Mamie got what she wanted. That was her desire, that he not be forgotten. Still there is a way to continue to honor someone and their family when they are gone.”
Fred Hampton Jr. has made it part of his life’s purpose to protect the story of his father, the Black Panther and revolutionary who was killed in a hail of gunfire during a West Side raid by law enforcement in 1969.
That has meant organizing commemorative events, hosting rallies and speaking publicly. But it has also meant confronting those who use his father’s portrait on shirts and/ tote bags without authorization, as well as reminding the public that the family often has nothing to do with museum exhibits or lyrics from rappers and singers that reference Hampton.
“Our position is, a legacy is more important than your life. We have a certain amount of time to be here. But a legacy is a prototype that informs others on how to deal with a particular situation,” Hampton Jr. said.
For his family, even the words used to describe what happened to Hampton are important. They use “assassinated,” rather than “killed.” And they are careful to include his Black Panther title of “chairman” and talk about more than just how his life ended. They discuss him as a gifted speaker who taught political classes in Chicago, was deeply concerned about poverty and helped run the Panther’s free breakfast program. Those are considerations others may not remember to highlight.
“Too many people play Panther when its profitable,” Hampton Jr. said. “There is no out for me. This is all I have – its not a phase, it’s not a costume party that I can be a part of when it’s fashionable. I’ve seen people get grants, resources and book deals. And they haven’t checked in with us, thought about us.”
Hampton Jr. and his mother, Deborah Johnson, who is now known as Akua Njeri, have been working to restore the childhood home of their family patriarch in Maywood. Yet as the 50th anniversary of Hampton’s death nears, they have been watching the public discourse to make sure Fred Hampton’s story is told with the proper context.
“When you see people come, make T-shirts and bags and profit and then leave … it takes a toll,” Hampton Jr. said.
In some ways, it’s also affirming, he explained.
“It reinforces what we think: The system doesn’t want the public to fully know who he was. For us, that means he must have been doing something right.”
Ida’s Legacy was started by Delmarie Cobb, who decided in 2017 to create an organization centered around grooming black women for public office.
She immediately thought of Ida B. Wells-Barnett, she said. Not only was Wells-Barnett the first black woman to run for office in Illinois, but Cobb has lived for 50 years on the same block where Wells-Barnett resided.
It wasn’t until after Cobb established her organization that she connected with the family descendants. Once she did, she invited them to the group’s gatherings.
“The descendants are doing their thing, and we are doing something too,” she said. “Our work doesn’t dishonor Ida B. Wells or the family. We don’t see ourselves in competition in any way.”
Earlier this year, the descendants asked that a disclaimer be placed on the website to differentiate between their efforts, and Cobb has obliged.
She looks at all efforts named for Wells-Barnett as separate causes with a cohesive mission — to raise awareness about this great and iconic Chicago woman.
“All some people knew of her was the housing projects. Now they see the layers of her work,” Cobb said.
“There is an excitement, an energy that has been created over the last two years. I hope that this sudden interest in Ida B. Wells lasts and is sustainable. She is someone who deserves our respect and honor,” Cobb said.
Twitter @lollybowean
