Editor’s note: This is the thirty-first entry in a series on how historians—especially contingent historians and those employed outside of tenure-track academia—do the work of history. If you know of someone we should interview, or would like to be interviewed yourself, send an email with the subject line HOW I DO HISTORY to pitches@contingentmag.org.
Christine Sloan Stoddard is a writer, filmmaker, performer, artist, and founder of Quail Bell Press & Productions. Here’s how she does history.
What are your current positions and where are you working?
I am a writer, filmmaker, artist, and actor. My positions include owner and creative director of Quail Bell Press & Productions and M.S. Documentary Film candidate at Columbia University.
What’s a typical work day or work week look like for you?
There is no typical work day or work week. What I can say is that there’s usually a flurry of writing and video edit sessions, film shoots, theater rehearsals, live performances, and snatches of time spent painting, drawing, and editing photos. There are the inevitable Zoom meetings, too. One of my usual haunts is the studio of Manhattan Neighborhood Network, where I film “Badass Lady-Folk,” “Don’t Mind If I Don’t” (read on for more info!), and other film and video content. During weeks of Columbia classes, I am in classrooms, at the library, at campus screenings, lectures, or shows, and at whatever site interviewing sources might necessitate. I also take improv and sketch writing classes at the Upright Citizens Brigade and am often there.
I always have reading materials on me because there’s always so much to absorb. Luckily, I can get a lot of reading for Columbia and Quail Bell done on the train. I spend time outdoors when I can. Even a small patch of green can inspire relaxation and positivity. Morningside Park is one of my favorite spots.
Tell us about your undergraduate and graduate experiences. Where did or have you completed your undergraduate and graduate studies?
While at Yorktown High School in Arlington, VA, I started taking college-level courses at Northern Virginia Community College in Arlington and Alexandria. Then I went to Grinnell College on a POSSE Scholarship for one year. POSSE is a full-tuition scholarship program for under-represented students, including those from low-income, first-generation, and “minority” races/ethnicity backgrounds, attending elite partner colleges. I transferred to Virginia Commonwealth University (VCU) and graduated from the School of the Arts with a B.A. in Film, a B.A. in English/Creative Writing, and a Baccalaureate Certificate (C.E.) in Product Innovation, and minors in Spanish, French, and European History. During the summers, I completed study abroad programs in France, Scotland, and Mexico.
Once in the workforce, I took a graduate folklore class at George Mason University and did a summer seminar in storytelling at Yale University. A couple of years after that, I earned my M.F.A. in Digital & Interdisciplinary Art from The City College of New York-CUNY. It was a media arts degree that allowed me to take studio art, film, and literature courses. An award for further graduate study led me to Columbia University, where I began in the Oral History M.A. before transferring to the M.S. in Documentary Film, a three semester program. I highly value formal education for what it has empowered me to do outside of the classroom.
You are completing your MS in Documentary Film. Please tell us about the field. What made you want to pursue the study of documentary film?
I have always had parallel careers in journalism and cultural work. In one way or another, storytelling has been at the crux of what I’ve done all my life. Documentary film allows me to merge my strengths and interests from varied experiences while focusing on non-fiction storytelling. Since I already hold an MFA that allowed me to take a deep dive into fiction projects, I wanted to round out my training with non-fiction work. As a Columbia student, my network is vast and powerful. That comes in handy for grants, gigs, fellowships, and other professional opportunities.
What are some of the works — in film, video, and performance — that you are proud of and want to tell us about?
“Mi Abuela, Queen of Nightmares” is a poetry book turned stage play. It’s about Maya, a young Salvadoran-American woman, who navigates trauma and family mythology through magic and folklore as she comes of age in Phoenix, Arizona. Her story explores mother-daughter relationships, mixed race identity, being the child of an immigrant, growing up without a father, and using fantasy as a coping mechanism, while featuring movement and dance. Owls, jaguars, and cacti also make dream-like and delightful appearances. You can watch the filmed play on YouTube and order the script as a book.
I work on two interview-based shows that are very different in tone. “Badass Lady-Folk” is a feminist/womanist talk show featuring incredible women and non-binary femmes, usually with ties to New York City. It airs on Manhattan Neighborhood Network, but anyone outside of New York City can watch it on YouTube @badassladyfolk. “Don’t Mind If I Don’t” is a comedy TV show that I co-host with Aaron Gold, my boyfriend. Fans and experts try to convince Aaron to like the things he hates. I play the role of the supportive girlfriend who wants her man to grow. Our first episode on bagpipes features a world-renowned musicologist and a professional musician. You can watch the show on YouTube @dontmindtheshow.
I’m also proud of my Stoddard Says YouTube channel, which I launched in April. You can watch many of my films and video essays there. Some stand-outs include “Sirena’s Gallery,” “Uncontested,” “Bottled,” “Her Garden,” and “Imperfect.” I perform different characters that you can watch online, including on the Stoddard Says YouTube channel, and in person around New York City. Art Bitch and Queen Jaguar are the best known ones.
In addition to your work in documentary film, you also have conducted oral histories. Tell us about some of the oral history projects you have done or worked on.
I have an expansive view of oral history. It’s grounded in first-person narratives and memories. Right now, I have three ongoing projects:
One is a general oral history pursuit related to Latin American culture and diaspora, with a special emphasis on Central America because that’s my matrilineal side. I started this because of my own diasporic yearning and need to better understand my ancestors and part of what’s made me. Two examples include “My Afternoon with Mayan Weavers” and “Las Madres de Floyd Bennett Field.”
Another project is more timely and closer to journalism but I imagine will have a long shelf life: “Confessions of Columbia and City College Protests.” These are anonymous oral histories about the Spring 2024 Israel/Palestine protests at Columbia University and The City College of New York. Part 1 and Part 2 are live now. I’m still collecting stories, so if you want to participate, drop me a line: christine.stoddard@columbia.edu.
The third project is “Fathers of Brooklyn.” I’m doing portraits and interviews with Brooklyn fathers from various racial and cultural backgrounds, particularly those who identify as Black, Hispanic/Latino, and Jewish. Interviews touch on everything from co-parenting to K-12 education to the cost of living to prison life as a father and more. As an intersectional feminist, I believe that patriarchy oppresses men, too. This is a system that hurts many fathers in their ability to effectively and lovingly parent. Improving societal conditions and expectations for fatherhood is PART of the solution for achieving gender equity. “Fathers of Brooklyn” advances this stance. The first facet of the project that is publicly available is this video with Brian Parker. I envision the project also taking the form of a book and community gallery exhibition, though that is a long-term hope.
Then there are one-off projects that catch my fancy. More and more, I’m getting into the habit of recording audio textures and doing quick interviews with people. On Mother’s Day, I encountered a passionate volunteer at a Quaker meeting house in Rye, New York, my father’s hometown. Thus, “Family Time at the Bird Meeting House” was born. Or while doing my artist residency with the Lower East Side Ecology Center, I found a COVID memorial garden volunteer who wanted to share a few thoughts. My time in the oral history program opened my eyes to just how broad oral history can be.
For Contingent readers who want to conduct oral histories, what advice do you have?
Consider the narrator’s role. Ask what the narrator feels is important to share. Let the conversation evolve organically. Listen closely to respond in real time. Be attentive and treat someone else’s time and story as sacred. You might be surprised. You can’t be rigid about your questions. You should of course do some research and come prepared with questions that can help guide the conversation and clarify information you think may be useful and interesting for listeners. The oral history, however, should not become an interrogation.
Also keep in mind your audience. Most oral histories are recorded with the intention of going into some type of archive. That is a slippery word, “archive,” as the definition differs from field to field. What binds archives is the idea of preservation; accessibility to the general public may or may not be the case. Ideally, you have a sense of which archive, or at least what kind of archive, will be the recording’s destination. This can assist you in setting the tone of the conversation and capturing certain types of information. Does this archive exist for academics? Scientists? Park rangers? Medical professionals? Artists? The general public? You might adjust your language, especially jargon, for the audience. I recommend, too, knowing in advance whether your oral history will be part of a series or not. You might consider whether the oral histories ought to be listened to in isolation or as a series.
There is the issue of editing, as well. As a documentarian with an arts background, I believe in editing for a purpose. Some oral historians may let a conversation run for hours, unedited. I personally find that less decisive than I would like. That being said, it may be your style and preference, in which case you should know why you are taking that approach. When you do edit an interview, that should be made clear to the listener, whether in a written notation or in the audio itself as a preface.
Have you always been interested in history?
Yes! I grew up in Virginia, where U.S. Colonial and Civil War history is so celebrated, and with a mother studying for her U.S. citizenship test. Plus, my father is a journalist who began working on Capitol Hill before I was born. Politics and history are inextricably linked. As a family, we constantly went to museums and state and national parks in and around Washington, D.C. and Baltimore.
You have written a number of books, chapbooks, and zines. Please tell us about some of your books and where we can find them.
I have always been a writer probably because I have always been a reader. Though I grew up after the heyday of punk, I was attracted to punk music and fashion. I read alternative magazines and newspapers like Washington City Paper and Bust at a young age. Honestly, it was because my mother showed them to me. I’m not sure exactly where I first found out about zines, but with all of my punk consumption, it’s not surprising I did. I fell in love with DIY and all things handmade. Book art, such as chapbooks and limited edition book sculptures, really came onto my radar while at VCU. Belinda Haikes’ course “The History and Form of the Book” changed me. The university’s special collections had such a stunning array of one-of-a-kind pieces that brought such a tender, intimate reading experience. Had it not been for that course, I’m not sure I ever would’ve known about it.
Here are some of my favorite books:
Water for the Cactus Woman (SpuytenDuyvil, 2018) is a collection of bilingual English-Spanish poetry and photography about five women confronting their family trauma.
Belladonna Magic (Shanti Arts, 2019) is a collection of poetry and photography about feminine magic.
Heaven Is a Photograph (CLASH Books, 2020) is a collection of narrative poems and photographs tells the story of an art student and her journey of doubt, longing, and questioning. Join her as she finds her power behind the lens.
Naomi & The Reckoning (Finishing Line Press, 2020) is a novelette that follows Naomi, a young woman with a physical deformity living in Richmond, VA. Struggling with body acceptance all her life, Naomi also comes from a strict religious upbringing. Purity culture further complicated her relationship with her body and, now recently married, she can’t find sexual satisfaction.
Desert Fox by the Sea (Hoot ‘n’ Waddle, 2019) is a collection of short stories and winner of the Four Chambers Press Prize in Fiction.
You can find all of my books and their order links on my website.
Are you currently working on a research project or new book?
I’m working on a musical called “The Spooky Salvi Girl Dreaming Big in Her Little City.” It tells the story of Victoire, a Salvadoran-American grad student who dreams of dropping out of her racist historic preservation PhD program when a rabbit ghost leads her to an abandoned cemetery for a prominent family’s outcasts. Then Victoire finds an unmarked Indigenous burial ground by the cemetery. When her university announces its plans to develop the land, she creates a DIY haunted house and mini museum to bring attention to these resting places. She collaborates with local Indigenous bigwigs, including a Pamunkey chief and a Mayan community leader. In the process, she feels more connected to her Indigenous ancestors than ever.
I began developing this project as a librettist in the BMI Lehman Engel Musical Theatre Workshop. This is considered the most elite professional training program for musical theater writers, including lyricists and composers. I went into the workshop feeling awkward, as if musical theater was not a place where I belonged. Certainly, I didn’t feel I belonged in such a prestigious place. It was pure imposter syndrome. I came to realize that if I don’t see something I want to see, it’s up to me to create it. I also came to accept that I don’t have to feel awkward. I can own my presence in the places I want to be.
Once the project is fully scripted and sample songs have been recorded, the submission slog will begin. I’m excited to see what happens.
You are the founder of a publication, Quail Bell Magazine. Please tell us about the publication. Would Contingent readers dig it?
I hope Contingent readers dig it! Quail Bell Magazine is a multimedia arts and culture publication for real and unreal stories from around the world. We have a special love for the imaginary, nostalgic, and otherworldly. Our go-to spell? Art + Ideas = Magic. Headquartered in New York City, Quail Bell unites contributors and audiences from around the globe.
The Quail Bell crew is a team of fairy punks who are citizens of the world. We publish work that values and critiques issues in the arts, history, folklore, and oddities not always carefully examined by mainstream magazines. Our bent may be the imaginary, the nostalgic, and the otherworldly, but we are forward-thinking and socially engaged. We care deeply about personal narratives, diverse voices, and expanded notions of creative expression. In all that we do, the Quail Bell crew encourages original thought, open dialogue and community-building through exploration of The Real and The Unreal.
As a woman-run publication of intersectional feminists and womanists, we strive to publish work that not only challenges readers, but lets them enjoy some sparkle, too. Our aims are not purely literary or journalistic but somewhere in that magical between. In the acts of writing, making, and sharing, we dream of possibilities together. We happily publish the work of men and non-binary writers and artists, but all work must respect our goal of achieving equity for women in society. This means honoring the dignity of women—in real life and in fiction.
I founded Quail Bell as a Virginia Commonwealth University undergrad, so there’s still a lot of Virginiana in the web archives. Today the perspective is New York-centric but looking outward. Here is one of my favorite recent pieces: “Second Star to the Right” by Madeline Trice. It’s vulnerable, humorous, and so well written.
Your writing has appeared in several publications (Cosmopolitan, Bustle, Ms. Magazine, etc.) What advice do you have for people interested in writing for and reaching wider audiences?
Consider what kinds of publications you want to write for and study them closely. Be honest about whether your story ideas match them. Magazines for a general audience tend to have a certain style and often humor. The brevity, lack of specificity, and oversimplification can frustrate writers coming from an academic writing background. So decide if writing for a consumer magazine is right for you. If you want to give it a shot, tailor your ideas and voice accordingly. Always read the submission guidelines. Then, when you are ready, pitch, pitch, pitch! Ideally, you have previously published clips and professional links (like a web portfolio or social media) that you can fold into your pitch.
While you wait, be patient and persistent and continue writing. Normalize rejection. Repeat the process. Some pieces will get accepted on the first try; many will not. Acceptance becomes more common as you rack up bylines, especially in national magazines.
Tell us about your work as a studio and conceptual artist.
I see my visual art practice as inseparable from my writing practice. They feed into one another, with the idea dictating the form. Illustrating my stories and poems and drawing comics was something I began doing at a young age. I never stopped. Some periods have been more fruitful than others, but I’ve always held my art dear. My “Forget Fairytales” comics have had quite the following over the years and I’m always grateful for that.
Conceptual art, or art rooted in concepts rather than aesthetics or narrative, was something I began exploring during my MFA. Most of it falls within the realm of digital culture and electronic literature. Your readers might enjoy Working Women: Unseen Labor in the Library of Congress, Girl With Camera, Fabsquid: Poems for Unsearchable 3D Models, and A Millennial Girl’s Digital Garden.
The summer prior to my MFA, I devised a series of found object sculptures in a series called Chesapeake Menagerie. This was for a residency at Annmarie Sculpture Garden in Maryland. I dabbled some more in sculpture during my MFA. Then in 2020, I presented a public sculpture at the Queens Botanical Garden called “Rabbit’s Storytelling Throne.” Eventually, I would love to do a large-scale sculpture work again, especially something that is permanently installed.
You are a Curator-in-Residence at AnkhLave Arts Alliance on Governors Island. What does the position entail? Tell us more about the AnkhLave Arts Alliance.
Quarantine devastated almost every field, with many art forms coming to a standstill. So when AnkhLave Arts Alliance tapped me as an artist for its Queens Botanical Garden, I felt a surge of hope. This organization, founded and directed by artist Dario Mohr, is dedicated to advancing Black, Indigenous, and other people of color who create within the contemporary art realm. AnkhLave believes in the transformative power of art as a catalyst for difficult conversations, fostering dialogue and collaboration between diverse communities, especially in public, non-traditional spaces. I was one of six artists asked to create an outdoor sculpture or installation that visitors could enjoy during the garden’s open hours. As an outdoor space, the garden was one of the few major New York City cultural institutions open to the public. I created the aforementioned “Rabbit’s Storytelling Throne” and it was so touching to see how people interacted with the piece.
This year, AnkhLave invited me back as the Curator-in-Residence. I am shadowing Cecilia André, a Master Curator on Governors Island. We chose a cohort of artists to take residency at the organization’s house on Colonels Row, where they have studio spaces through early fall. We’ve curated one exhibition, “Claimed and Reclaimed” in the house and had the artists install work from the island in a Harlem community garden in September.
“Claimed and Reclaimed” celebrated BIPOC artists Kraig Blue (Public Artist-in-Residence), Damali Abrams, Coralina Rodriguez Meyer, Diego Espaillat, Xiong Wei, and Chihiro Ito (AnkhLave Garden Project Fellows) who own and redefine their cultural narratives. This expression shines in the use of recycled and repurposed materials that resist Western centered art making traditions. Such a gesture speaks to the power of symbolically taking land back from colonizing forces. Home to the Lenape people prior to European contact, Governors Island has also been a site of Black labor such as in 1918 when an African American Army labor battalion was stationed here. Today, immigrants own and staff businesses on the island. In reclaiming this historical house, AnkhLave artists bring their creations to diverse audiences outside of a Western white wall gallery context. While the walls in House 408 may be white, they are decaying. “Claimed and Reclaimed” breathed new life into them. Collectively, the artists’ palettes drew inspiration from the blues, greens, and earth tones that have long colored this maritime environment.
You can read interviews with all of this year’s AnkhLave resident artists at QuailBellMagazine.com.
If money, time, and distance were not issues, what’s a dream project you’d love to tackle? Or what’s a class you love to teach, but just haven’t had the opportunity to yet?
I have several feature films I would like to direct. Next on my list is “A Teacher’s Nights.” Here’s the logline: An ex-journalist and new public school teacher goes through a trial by fire in Brooklyn’s tough Brownsville neighborhood.