Medicine and white supremacy
Between 1844 and 1849, Dr. J. Marion Sims performed experimental surgeries and procedures on at least 12 enslaved women without anaesthesia, presumably without consent, and often in front of an audience. He built his career on the knowledge he gained during this time and, after he had learnt all he needed to learn, he returned these women to their enslavers and moved on with his life.
It is impossible to say how much of what we know today about gynaecological conditions associated with childbirth, pregnancy, and postpartum we owe to these women. Not only because these procedures were performed upon their bodies, and the bodies of other enslaved women, but also because they themselves were trained under his supervision and became qualified medical practitioners in their own right. To this day, their contributions are almost entirely unacknowledged.
The history of Dr Sims and the Mothers of Gynaecology speaks to a pattern in western medicine at large, whereby marginalised individuals are sacrificed in pursuit of white supremacy. There are many other stories like theirs scattered throughout history. As a museum, one of our primary functions is to make these invisible stories visible – to remind people of the forgotten. This is why we at the East London based Vagina Museum, inspired by similar actions around the world, have renamed our three galleries after Anarcha, Betsey and Lucy – the only women Sims experimented on to have been named.
Making the hard decisions
Although changing the names of our galleries seems an easy decision (and in some sense, it was), we anticipate it might cost us funding opportunities. It is a convention in the heritage sector for galleries to be named for prominent sponsors, and the change potentially makes aspects of the museum less legible to those unfamiliar with Anarcha, Betsey and Lucy’s stories.
‘Who’s Lucy?’ ‘Why is that gallery called ‘Betsey’s gallery’?’ visitors ask us, provoking potentially uncomfortable – but welcome – conversations.
Silence – and standardised naming conventions – would have been easier. Reckoning with a violent history and holding it up alongside what we know about the present is hard. But a world that venerates a man who experimented on Black women without their consent and without acknowledging their work will inevitably replicate such harms over and over and over again. It is our responsibility as a cultural space to make these ‘hard’ decisions.
A museum shouldn’t shy away from the histories that white supremacy would prefer to erase. We confront the past head-on. The story of the Mothers of Gynaecology pervades everything that we do. When we address current inequalities, the stories of Anarcha, Betsey and Lucy are a heartbeat, underlying everything.
Starting the conversation
It is also up to our visitors to do some of the work, to think critically about things they may take for granted. This applies to everything from the anatomy of the clitoris and the shape of their labia, to where our knowledge about these things comes from. Why is the g-spot called the g-spot? Why do we know about that but know almost nothing about endometriosis? What gaps are there and what do they tell us about the world?
To inaugurate the renaming, we invited Edem Ntumy from the Reproductive Justice Institute, AZ from the Ad'iyah Collective, and Princess Banda from the University of Oxford to discuss how their work in the fields of gynaecology, obstetrics and sexual health seeks to liberate Black women and women of colour from the miasma of shame and stigma perpetuated by the medical profession and wider society. At this sold-out event, they spoke about community care, choice and informed consent; about intersectional justice, over policing, poverty, ableism and coalition building.
The last is key.
Championing community care
The Vagina Museum is a community space and our community is a broad church. We’re interested in inviting uncomfortable conversation, but such discomfort is never indiscriminate. For those who are marginalised within British public life, we hope to be a space of joy, comfort and respite. We do this by acknowledging diverse stories, prioritising accessibility, taking feedback and working across difference.
In the aftermath of their abuse at the hands of a white male doctor, Anarcha, Betsey and Lucy took care of each other. They were each other’s nurses and, in all likelihood, went on to nurse others in their community. Within and between all the horror, they were modelling the kind of care we need and that the heritage sector should champion.
Inevitably, museums reflect that which is valued by society. Part of the rationale behind this initiative is to not only acknowledge the value of Black women, but to move beyond straightforward conceptions of value and toward more intimate expressions of appreciation – to cherish, appreciate and nourish Black women.
The Vagina Museum has free admission. We don’t believe that knowledge should be locked away. We are open to all, as a community space to learn, to celebrate, and to reckon with the past. We are largely supported by charitable donations by our community of visitors, members, and supporters. We invite you to support our educational world, and help us to change the world.