Crossing the Ocean: An Introduction to Katherine Dunham’s Legacy and Fellowship

by: Kennedy Morganfield, Katherine Dunham Fellow

Since at least age four I have identified as a writer, spieling fiction from the backseat of my Nana’s Saturn Vue. My paternal grandmother fondly recalls me rattling off improvised narratives and character arcs, attempting to revisit them each afternoon on our brief car rides from the Catholic elementary school parking lot to her one-story suburban ranch. When I was in kindergarten, my punishments for talking back ranged from my parents removing every book from my shelf, one by one, to the revocation of Microsoft Word privileges. A world without words punishes me in perpetuity. A good short story will always grab hold of my heart because, before I could tell one genre from another or even tell someone what “genre” meant, that’s all I was attempting to tell.

I was hardly shocked to learn that in 1921 prolific essayist W.E.B. DuBois published “Come Back to Arizona”, a short story written by Miss Katherine Dunham at the age of 12, in his periodical for Black youth The Brownies’ Book. What did surprise and disappoint me, though, was coming up empty when I subsequently scoured the Library of Congress archives for a PDF copy. Despite my rearing as a classical and contemporary dancer, as well as my study of American dance history during undergrad, there are gaps in my understanding of Miss Dunham’s artistic reach and prowess.

We both showed early promise as wordsmiths, but that’s not all we share in lived experience.

I’ve spent the past three weeks onboarding and starting work as the 2024 Katherine Dunham Fellow at Creative Reaction Lab, and I’d like to take a moment to introduce myself, the Fellowship, and this Medium series.

My name is Kennedy Morganfield and I was born, raised, and became myself in St. Louis, Missouri. Both my parents, too, grew up in this metropolitan area, on either side of the Mississippi River in North and East St. Louis, respectively. According to dancer, founder and trailblazing benefactor of the Katherine Dunham Fellowship Sara Burke, Miss Dunham referred to the journey from Missouri to Illinois as “crossing the ocean.” She alludes here to the fraught racial and political history of the region, which in my view necessitates its own written installment. I was eligible in part for the KD Fellowship because of my Black American heritage and my ties to the communities Miss Dunham impacted with her technique, known amongst her trainees as a “way of life.” Past fellows have all demonstrated an interest in arts administration, and I make no exception to that rule. What sets me apart from past fellows, with whom I am otherwise united in origin and passion, is my lifelong movement practice.

Even before I wrote, I danced. At three, with my mom’s help, I tugged on itchy powder pink tights and a matching cotton leotard in the church bathroom. This was our Sunday morning ritual, rivaling the service itself. Immediately after the closing hymnal, we rolled westward across the Poplar Street Bridge back into St. Louis for pre-ballet class. I found more peace at the barre than in the pew (though around puberty that bliss would become turmoil — but I’ll save the story of my body and ballet for a future entry), and I memorized the French terms for each movement and their English translations with ease.

Katherine Dunham discovered dance in high school — relatively late for a young woman especially to learn the language of ballet. But extraordinary people often pave nontraditional paths. Throughout this summer and the forthcoming articles, we will follow Miss Dunham from her birthplace of Chicago around the world and back to the Midwest. Format-wise, we’ll keep things simple: I’ll offer up what I’ve researched and reflected upon every other week. Things will also get personal, as I share a more concrete connection to the Dunham legacy than I have let on. In the process, I hope to historicize Dunham’s groundbreaking work and make a case for my hometown arts community’s indebtedness to her.

Thank you for reading and accompanying me in this exploratory exercise. I cannot wait to see what we uncover together!

Until next time,
Kennedy