The life of Sophia Pooley and the Queen’s Bush Settlement

Carly Holmstead, Kayla Hefford, Jennifer Williams 

Who is Sophia Pooley? 

Sophia Pooley’s story may be the only existing first-person narrative of someone who was a slave in Canada. The daughter of Oliver and Dinah Burthen, Sophia was a born a slave in Fishkill, New York. At the age of five, Sophia and her sister were taken to Niagara Falls, where they were sold to Mohawk chieftain Joseph Brant. The sisters were brought back to the Mohawk reserve in Upper Canada, joining the thirty other slaves Brant owned. During her time with Brant, she was often the victim of the barbarous and violent nature of his mistress. After several years on the reserve, Brant sold Sophia to Samuel Hatt:  “at twelve years old, I was sold by Brant to an Englishman in Ancaster, for one hundred dollars, – his name was Samuel Hatt, and I lived with him seven year.” (Ontario Ministry of Government and Consumer Services). Separated from her family at an early age, Sophia’s early life was spent in isolation and fear, under the mental and physical brutality of her owners. 

This image is a female version of Josiah Wedgwood’s 1787 antislavery medallion depicting a black woman enslaved in chains. “Previous Chapter Chapter 5: Resistance to Slavery and Black Nationalism Next Chapter.” 
This is an image of Mohawk chief Joseph Brant, Sophia Pooley’s (then Burthen) slave owner.Les Archives Publiques De L’L’honorable Lincoln Alexander .

During the time Sophia was enslaved by Samuel Hatt, legislations had passed marking the end of slavery; unbeknownst to Sophia, she continued to live under the confines of slavery. Thanks to the interference of neighbours, Sophia was informed that she was being held illegally and she was able to safely escape. Soon after, Sophia married Robert Pooley, a black farmer in Waterloo, but their marriage didn’t last long. Robert ran away with a white woman; Sophia would later state with great certainty that “he is dead.” It was in her old age that Sophia settled in Queen’s Bush, where she boarded with various families (Kubish 62). 

What we know about the Queen’s Bush Settlement?

This is a map of the Queen’s Bush Settlement, showcasing the area in which it covered. Right near the Grand River, Hamilton, Guelph, and Waterloo area. Kubish, 2004. 

Queen’s Bush refers to a vast unsettled area between Waterloo County and Lake Huron. Beginning in the early nineteenth century, the area of Waterloo County and Lake Huron became a haven for more than 1,500 free and formerly enslaved Blacks. This group of Black pioneers cleared the land for farms that were scattered across the Peel and Wellesley Township border, with Glan Allan, Hawkesville and Wallenstein as important centers. The Queen’s Bush settlement was a fully-functioning and self-reliant community. However, in the 1840s, the government ordered the land to be surveyed; many of the Black pioneers could not afford to pay for the land they had worked hard to labor and were forced to abandon their farms or sell them at below value. Queen’s Bush pioneers moved to villages and towns in the surrounding areas, including Guelph. Although Black population in Queen’s Bush began to dwindle after the land was surveyed, a significant number of them remained and prospered, well into the latter half of the nineteenth century.

Sophia Pooley’s Queen’s Bush 

The Queen’s Bush settlement offered Black people an opportunity to create a community made by and built for them; a place where Black people could find belonging among neighbours who helped and supported one another. This Black community stood for courage, strength, and perseverance, as it continued to exist after the surveys forced many to leave. Sophia arrived in the settlement in the years after the land surveys forced so many others like her to leave the community that was their home. Sophia’s story of charity and care in the Queen’s Bush settlement reflects the persistence of a community that existed against all kinds of odds. In the Queen’s Bush settlement, Sophia, for the first time in her life, was able to join a community that took care of their own. Before she found this sanctuary, Sophia’s life was one of isolation, dislocation, and violence.  While in the settlement, she found the unending support of the community through the people who boarded, supported, and cared for her until the end of her life. Sophia’s Queen’s Bush was a strong black community that thrived and withstood the many pressures that tried to break it apart. It was a place where Black people could find a sense of belonging and home within the space of Canada. 

Blackface Minstrelsy in Guelph

By Pamilpreet Brar, Josiah McColeman, and Faryn Smith

In 1996, the Fergus Brass Band performed a blackface minstrel show at the Fergus High School. While it may seem like blackface and minstrelsy are forms of entertainment of a different time, the minstrel show, the donning of blackface, and its residual effects continue to remain pervasive in society today.

Fergus Brass Band and Fergus High School Minstrel show, 1996.

Minstrelsy, What is it?

Minstrelsy is the comic enactment of Black stereotypes usually performed in blackface. The minstrel show was derived from the character commonly known as “Jim Crow,” which is closely tied to American system of laws of racial segregation. He was created in 1828 by Thomas D. Rice, the son of English immigrants, who lived in the lower east side of Manhattan (“The Origins of the Black Minstrel show” 45). Rice was the first person to go on stage with black cork smeared on his face and go by the name of “Jim Crow.” Previously, other actors had appeared in blackface portraying the stereotypical role under names like “Black Sambo,” but Rice’s “Jim Crow” was an African-American trickster masquerading in the guise of an escaped slave. The audience for his sarcasm and wit was working-class whites, who faced a different form of hardship (45).

While minstrel shows began in the United States, this practice of Black “recreation” was evident in Canadian society. While Canada is often perceived as a “racism-free space,” a haven for fugitive slaves who escaped North via the Underground Railroad, Canada is more similar to its neighbours in the south than it would like to admit. American minstrel companies first came to Canada in the 1840s, but its peak years were between the 1860s and 1910s (Thompson 100). One of the first cultural events of the Northwest Mounted Police was a minstrel show. The minstrel production of Uncle Tom’s Cabin was one of the most popular shows that toured across Canada. The degradation and dehumanization of Black lives, evident in minstrel advertisements, was the cultural reality or dominant perspective of blackness in Canada at the time (Thompson 99-103).

Troubling Guelph and Canada’s “Racism-Free” Identity

Evidence of the minstrel tradition in the Wellington County Museum, Guelph Civic Museum, and the University of Guelph Library document a long history of a white community’s engagement with racist tropes and caricatures of Black people and culture. The following examples of local manifestations of bigotry and ignorance figure blackface minstrelsy as an important aspect of white culture in Guelph and surrounding areas. This archive of blackface and minstrelsy depict a century of white engagement with and enjoyment of racist representations of minoritized people. These photographs trouble the concept of Guelph, and Canada more generally, as a “racism-free space.”

The first image shows the Guelph Jazz Band on the steps of Guelph City Hall in 1921. This image is disturbing due to its placement of the photo. By being taken in the steps of City Hall it associated people of political power in Guelph with this racist engagement.

The second image is from 1925 and shows the Ladies of Chalmers Choir at Castle Theatre engaging in a minstrel play for the entertainment of a white audience. Despite being a marginalized group themselves, these women put forth a minstrel production meant to degrade Black people.

The third image is from 1950 and shows community members from Belwood United Church dressed in blackface for an amateur production. Being associated with a church, this play connects religion and racism during the 20th century in Canada and the church’s role in promoting the degradation of Black people and culture in the Guelph area.

Belwood United Church Minstrel Show

The fourth image is a 1961 advertisement form the minstrel show performed by the Guelph Kiwanis Club, their 10th annual minstrel production. By the Kiwanis Club being able to produce and find profit in ten consecutive years of amateur minstrel productions show that the citizens of Guelph accepted and enjoyed this racist production of the characterization of Black people.  

Finally, the opening image in this blog post is from a 1996 minstrel production by the Fergus Brass Band performed at the Fergus High School and demonstrates the continued presence of blackface in Wellington County. Over the 140 years of its existence, the Fergus Brand Band performed in racial costumes; black and white photographs of the band, in the Wellington County Museum and Archive, show members dressed in “Chinese costume” (1950), “First Nations costumes” (1955), and “Arab costumes” (1970).

Why does this Matter Today?

By remembering minstrel shows, we can assess how this popular form of entertainment fuelled anti-Black sentiment in Canada. As early as July 1840, forty-five Black people from Toronto asked for the banning of Blackface performances. They did this because they saw its purpose was to “make the Coloured man appear ridiculous and contemptible in the eyes of their audience” (Frost). This early opposition emphasizes the erasure of Blackness, it must be noted while Blackface is remembered, the protests against it are overlooked. Another method of contesting this racist theatre was through the creation of  whiteface. Bob Cole, a Black performer, challenged societal norms by creating the white character of Willie Wayside; as the red-headed Wayside, Cole intended to highlight the versatility of Black actors in comedy (McAllister 3). This method of critiquing racial hierarchies did not stop the practice, but challenged it nonetheless. To truly understand the “absent-presence” of Blacks in Canada, there must be an examination of the ways cultural representations of blackness have shaped the ways we understand and limit the meaning and significance of Black people in Canada and beyond.

How the History of the BME Church Brings Guelph’s Black Community Together 130 Years Later

By Amanda Conibear, Katarina Furundzic, Alexandra Nigh, and Rocky Su 

Introduction to the BME Church

Guelph’s British Methodist Episcopal (BME) Church has a long history that traces back to 1880 when a thriving Black community once resided in Guelph. The church was not only a community hub for events and gatherings of all kinds, but also housed a school for students ranging from grades one to eight. Although made by and for the Black community on Essex St, all were welcome. This post delves into the history of the BME church in Guelph, telling the story of the Black community that the church nurtured and brought together and still brings together to this day. The role that the BME church played on Essex St in Guelph was so important and impactful for the everyday life of Guelph’s historic Black community that even now, the church’s original congregants come together every Black History Month to celebrate the heritage, accomplishments, and cultural institutions of Guelph’s Black community.

BME church, 83 Essex Street 

History

The construction of the BME church on 83 Essex Street embodies a history of black suffering and struggle and is a symbol of hope and freedom. The root of this BME church is an AME church located in Peel Township built by pioneer fugitive slaves reaching Canada through the Underground Railroad (Wells). In 1856, the name AME was shifted to BME because those settlers associated the British territory in Canada with freedom from slavery and slave hunters (Wright). Thus, it became a means of protection for the slaves as British subjects could not be brought back to the US. However, their dreams of freedom did not come easily. In the second half of the 19th century, the Canadian government evicted Blacks from their lands and sold their land to white settlers (Kawano).

Members of the Peel Township church dispersed to Guelph, but they were not able to build a church of their own, due to the hardship of survival and the limited scale of community. It was not until 1869 that the Black community became large enough to start making arrangements and sought public donation for the purchase of land onto which they could erect a place of worship. Eventually, the BME church was built on 83 Essex Street at a cost of $2000, with a seating capacity of 300 in 1880. One noteworthy discovery from the archives is that the church was addressed as 79 instead of 83 Essex Street from 1916 to 1947 according to the textual account. It might indicate a temporary relocation of the church or a slight reorder of the street number. Unfortunately, no valid evidence from the existing account has been found to support our hypothesis, this interesting question might require further exploration.

The church was addressed as 79 instead of 83 Essex Street from 1916 to 1947
BME church pamphlet, from Guelph  Civic Museum

Notable Members

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Addie Aylestock,
Canada’s first ordained black woman minister

The BME church on 83 Essex St. was not only a place of worship, but also a social hub that was served the people who attended the church and the community that arose in the surrounding neighbourhood. Some notable people were essential to the history of Canada and Black settlements in Canada. The people of the BME church were vital to the running and creation of the “underground railroad” that helped Black slaves escape to freedom (Montgomery). Although the people of this Church were important in the various ways that they formed and maintained a Black community in Guelph, some of the members’ contributions had such a significant impact on the community that it is important to remember them in talking about the history of the Church.

One of these people was Addie Aylestock, Canada’s first ordained Black woman minister, who fought to follow her calling by working hard and staying strong even when she was faced with the overwhelming number of men in the profession (Baglole). Another prominent character in the creation of the BME church was S. D. Smith; the community brought this pastor in when the church first opened, and he succeeded to fill the pews of the church and teach the people of this small community (“British Methodist Episcopal”). Although these two people are well written about, there’s something to be said about every person who helped to create the BME church into what history knows it as. This community helped support each other, helped support other people, and helped to support the ideas and dreams of Black men, women, and children in Guelph.

Black History Month at the BME Church

For the past 28 years, the BME church in Guelph has been hosting Black History month celebrations (Carter). Celebrating in Guelph’s BME church is important due to the integral role that the Black community has had in the city since they settled in the 1800s (Carter).  The celebrations include Caribbean and African food, singing, music–using  instruments brought by slaves long ago–, and motivational speeches for the hundreds of guests that attend the event. Plays also take place to teach audiences about Canada’s Black history and recall stories of the past that honour the bravery and courage of the Black settlers. Many of those who attend the celebrations have long ties to Guelph’s Black community and the BME Church, such as Ernie Crawford, who comes to Guelph from Brantford to remember and honour the memories they have growing up on Essex St and being part of the church’s community (Stead).

Celebration of Black History Month
Photograph taken in Feb. 1995, from Guelph Civic Museum

A Gathering of Community

Many gather for Black History Month: it is a homecoming for those connected to Guelph’s Black community who have spread to new areas over the years. The limestone walls of the BME Church are a sight of warmth against the bleak winter sky. The tall, lean door that is hugged between the tall, lean windows calls a welcoming and return for many. As people walk through the entrance, they inhale the breath of community and history that exhales from the body of the building. Faces familiar or new light up the room, and music and laughter ring. The smell of food brings the comfort of a home; people chatter with excitement for the entertainment that will come to life shortly. Musicians, a guest speaker, and a children’s recital embrace the values of culture, heritage, and history. The children’s recital is about a generation escaping the United States to Canada via the Underground Railroad, just as those who laid the stones of the BME’s foundation had. As people start to disperse back out to beyond the church walls, there is an understanding that the BME Church was more than just a building, it was and still remains a social and spiritual home for Black people in Guelph and beyond.

A strong sense of community and belongingness
Photograph taken in Feb. 1995, from Guelph Civic Museum


How Guelph Aided in Opening the Doors For Young Black Women

By Tia Muma and Soraya Thorne-Smith

During the 1940s, Marisse Scott fought against de facto segregation and racial prejudice in Ontario’s education system and paved the way for future Black nursing students. Across Canada, Black Canadians encountered various forms of segregation in public services (schools, hospitals, orphanages, cemeteries) that affected their everyday lives; additionally, rampant anti-Black sentiment depicted black people as ignorant, backwards, criminal, and immoral. Despite these practices and beliefs that relegated Blacks in Canada to the status of second-class citizens, Marisse Scott became one of the first Black woman to graduate from a nursing school in Ontario. Scott had to go through a lot on her journey to graduate, starting with facing rejection and segregation in her hometown. However, at St. Joseph’s Hospital in Guelph, she was able to complete her schooling and continue her work in healthcare.

Graduation Picture of Marisse Scott: Facebook image

In her hometown of Owen Sound, Scott applied to nursing school, but was quickly rejected. Scott had graduated from Owen Sound Collegiate and Vocational Institute with Honours in 1946, and, as the superintendent of St. Joseph’s Hospital said her “qualifications are high.” So why was she denied? Reasons for an applicant to be denied ranged from bad grades to under qualification and paperwork. The simple answer Scott received was because she was “colored,” and they “don’t accept colored girls.” According to newspapers at the time, she was also denied admission to the nursing school because the hospital “feared that patients would be traumatized by a black nurse at their bedside.” Even though, at St. Joseph’s Hospital, there was a patient that was eager to have her as a nurse: “I hope I’m the first person to whom she brings a breakfast tray” (Toronto Daily Star 1947).

In 1881, St Joseph’s Hospital started off as three nuns that dedicated themselves to taking care of the sick, injured, and homeless. Their area of care was originally called the Gate House because of its nearness to a big gate. A new building was constructed in 1862, in fact the pit of the elevator shaft is a part of the basement of the old building. The building staff grew in numbers as the patients did, and eventually the building became what it is today. In 1947 when Scott trained in the hospital, she would have lived in the hospital itself until a year before her graduation when a separate residence was built. At the time that Scott was training at the hospital a private room cost $5, much different from today.

Image of St. Joseph’s Hospital in the 1940s.

Eventually, after some publicity from surrounding newspapers in Ontario and other areas in Canada, Scott sent in an application to St. Joseph’s Hospital at the suggestion of a priest at her local church in Owen Sound (Toronto Daily Star 1947). She was accepted into the Hospital Nursing School and graduated in 1950, becoming one of the first Black women to graduate from a nursing school in Ontario. Her graduation and the publicity that her case gained also disturbed the notion that Canada was a “racism-free space.”

Graduating class photograph with Marisse Scott: Virtual Museum.

During the 1940s and 50s, many white Canadians viewed Black people as immoral, lazy and criminal. These white supremacist beliefs maintained forms of de jure and de facto segregation in Ontario and beyond, which resulted in Black men and women struggling to find employment in universities, government institutions, and hospitals. Scott’s success in nursing school and the publicity that came with it showed that Black people were “fit” for the kinds of jobs that were exclusively “white positions,” disrupting notions of Black racial inferiority. Scott, and the individuals at St. Joseph’s Hospital who admitted Scott to the nursing programs and taught her, pushed against these racial barriers to open up new opportunities for Black women and girls to be able to achieve their own dreams. 

Scott’s experience of racial discrimination in Owen Sound encouraged her and others to challenge barriers in the education system. Her story was a call for equal access and opportunity to education for all Black Canadians. In admitting Scott to its nursing school, St. Joseph Hospital was a leading institution in lowering the colour bar and standing for equal access for all.  Rejecting the dominant belief that nursing should be a strictly white profession, St. Joseph’s Hospital was the site of an influential turning point for Black Canadian Civil Rights. Guelph was home to a woman, Marisse Scott, who would be a trailblazer for a new generation of Black nurses, and an institution, St. Joseph Hospital, that was a model for integration in nursing.  

Black Families and Lives in Guelph: The Bollen Family

By Anja Binkofski, Chloe Utting, Sydney Wildman

In “Nothing Shocking: Black Canada,” Katherine McKittrick writes that the discovery of a Black presence in Canadian history often leads to a sense of surprise, which is “is followed by an experiential curiosity, wonder” (93). This sense of wonder is “inevitably attached to new sensations, new ideas, that were previously unavailable” (93). We applied this notion of “wonder” to our research on the Bollen family in Guelph, which revealed them to be an upper-class, interracial family who has resided in Guelph since the 1800s. This unexpected discovery of the Bollens demonstrates a different narrative of Black life in Guelph from 1860 to 1960 that counters assumptions of Black identity and experience.

We first discovered that Charles Bollen –the oldest known generation of the family to live in Guelph – owned around 5 properties on Toronto Street and owned his own barber shop. An interview with Shirley Heal, a descendant of the Bollen family, in 1997 discussed how Charles himself was Puerto Rican, and therefore the Bollen family was interracial from the 1880s. In the next generation, his daughter Evelyn married John Duncan, a black man, which lead to a generation of Bollens that were visibly interracial rather than passing as white. In the interview, Heal discusses a dispute between Evelyn and her family regarding her marriage with a visibly Black man which led to her exclusion from the family. This discovery of an interracial family in this time period led us to uncover an unexpected narrative of interracial mixing and cooperations shaping Black life in Guelph.

Guelph Census of 1861
Guelph Census of 1871
Guelph Census 1881

Charles’ profession as a business owner, with multiple properties, led us to discover that in addition to being an interracial family, the Bollens had an upper-class status which seems to have continued through generations. This contrasts with the data we found in the Guelph census of 1861, 1871 and 1881 (above) which shows a majority of Black people were working-class, employed as labourers, servants, whitewashers, butchers, and barbers. We can infer that because of the Bollen family’s ability to be business owners, they were economically better off than the rest of the Black community in Guelph.

Bollen sisters in 1906: Gertrude (Gertie), Annie, Eva, Kathleen , Rita, and Ella Bollen. Source: Guelph Civic Museum Archives.

The Bollens’ class status is further shown in the family portraits we found in the Guelph Civic Museum archives. These photographs situate the Black family in a manner that echoes 19th century upper-class, British portraits. These portraits assert the sophistication and luxury of the family, as signified through their formal appearance and the background of the home they were taken in. These photos allow the family to visually assert their Black and upper-class status – two notions that are not typically linked in the 1900s in Guelph and beyond.

Bill Stickland  standing beside the plane that he built in 1930. Source: Guelph Civic Museum Archives.

We discovered a fascinating photo of Bill Stickland, a close family friend to the Bollens and the husband of Rita Bollen. The photo shows Bill in 1930, standing in front of an airplane he built himself. We found this to be an unexpected – and interesting – discovery. For Bill to build this plane he would have had money to purchase the materials, access to a mechanic shop and high technology tools, and knowledge of mechanical engineering. This photo further implies the class privileges and social status of the Bollens and, again, highlights the contrast the life experiences and opportunities between the Bollens and the average Black individual and family in Guelph. A life story like Bill’s challenges the view of a single shared Black experience in Guelph.

Contemporary map showing the areas where known black families lived in Guelph in 1960.

With our collected data from the directories of 1975-1960 we mapped out the addresses of black families in Guelph and found the Bollens’ properties on Toronto street were across the river from the rest of the Black community’s residence. Most of Guelph’s black residents’ homes were on Essex, Durham and Nottingham Street, surrounding the BME church which was a community hub. This special discrepancy leads us to wonder why the Bollens were separate from the Black community. One possibility is that their financial, and interracial, status allowed them to assimilate or integrate with the white Guelph community, while other Black individuals were marginalized or segregated to the same, specific neighbourhood. This visual map helped us to further situate the Bollens’ narrative in relation to the other Black members of Guelph.

We believe that retracing the forgotten histories of Black lives is important to challenge the stereotypical view of Guelph as a predominantly white, rural space. Families such as the Bollens show how blackness has always been present, and integral, to Guelph’s community. In addition, the Bollens offer an unexpected narrative of Black life in Guelph and demonstrate there is no monolithic narrative of black experiences as each family is unique. With our research we have uncovered a potential way of reading one family’s incomplete history. We now ask you to consider what else can be uncovered about this family. What other histories could be discovered if more people engage with the recovery of black history in Guelph? Start wondering!

Blackface Minstrelsy in Guelph

By Laila El Mugammar, Maggie Lehman, and Maxime Tam 

WHAT IS BLACKFACE MINSTRELSY? 

Blackface minstrelsy is an attempt to impersonate another race and present it as a form of entertainment. It involves individuals (most often people who identify as white) who paint their faces black and perform a series of musical and dance numbers that “ventriloquize” blackness. These performances are comic theatricalization of degrading and demeaning stereotypes invented by white people that is meant to denigrate and erase the history and experiences of Black people. 

Developed during the early nineteenth century and gaining immense popularity all the way through the mid-twentieth century, blackface minstrelsy in North America emerged as a “conduit of white assertion and a buffer against black protest” (Douglas 27). On the one hand, early minstrel shows allowed white people a platform to express their dissatisfaction with a rapidly changing economy that further alienated and disenfranchised the working class working in industrial factories, but on the other, it also gave whites, of all classes, an opportunity to suppress abolitionist movements attempts to end chattel slavery in the US South (31). The rise and success of blackface minstrelsy suggests that white Americans were afraid of what would happen to their white privilege and power should Black people achieve equal opportunity and fair treatment. Blackface minstrelsy ultimately fueled pro-slavery politics and anti-Black sentiments that ridiculed the idea of Black freedom and citizenship.  

It is important to understand that while blackface minstrelsy is commonly associated with the United States and the US South, Canada has a long history of promoting and performing, engaging and watching blackface minstrelsy. Calixa Lavallée, the composer of our Canadian national anthem, spent many years of his career as a composer and musical director for a travelling minstrel performance group, the New Orleans Minstrels (Thompson 23). Consider what it means to have Lavallée as a representative figure of/for Canada with his participation and contribution in minstrel shows, especially as we delve deeper into the history and current relevance of blackface minstrelsy not only in Canada on a broader scale, but also in the City of Guelph. 

BLACKFACE MINSTREL SHOWS IN GUELPH AND WELLINGTON COUNTY

Blackface minstrelsy served an important social function in the lives of Guelphites: it was a form of entertainment, and like most media, it reaffirmed existing disparities and systems of oppression. The Ontario Agricultural College hosted a number of minstrel shows. One, which took place in March of 1912, is described in the OAC Review as taking the audience back to the “Dear Old South.” It boasted “Southern jokes and songs […] rendered in first class style” and a sketch entitled “Befo’ de War” (Miller 321). The December 1943 OAC Review delineates a minstrel show in which the chorus sang “Old Black Joe” and “Darktown Strutters Ball.” They also sang “Dixie,” the unofficial anthem of the Confederacy and perhaps the most famous song born of blackface minstrelsy. The Kiwanis Club of Guelph, which was founded in 1921 and professes to be “working for the betterment of our community and our world,” held annual minstrel shows in the auditorium of Guelph Collegiate and Vocational School. An advert for the 1961 minstrel is shown below: 

Pictured above is the Guelph Jazz Band (circa 1927) standing on the steps of City Hall in blackface. Blackness was and is an absented presence in Guelph, and the mythology of Canada as an egalitarian refuge for Black people escaping the horrors of slavery is an obstacle to confronting a legacy of anti-Black racism. The erasure of Canada’s involvement in slavery and the slave trade allowed us to shamelessly indulge in this form of anti-Black entertainment and deny its relevance to our own relationship with blacks in Canada, past and present. Minstrelsy was a cultural import, and this lack of responsibility for its origins ensured no Canadian individual or group needed to be accountable for enjoying it. Blackness and Black people being “always elsewhere” created fertile soil for blackface minstrelsy to flourish in Guelph. 

THE RELEVANCE OF BLACKFACE MINSTRELSY TODAY

Guelph is like many other cities within southwestern Ontario that have erased or forgotten their long tradition of hosting and performing blackface minstrel shows. However, the legacies of blackface minstrelsy in Ontario are constantly rupturing our present-day amnesia. In recent years, there have been many examples that shed light on how this popular form of entertainment continues to influence (and damage) understandings of race and race relations today. For example, a CBC News report from January 4, 2018, entitled “London police officer apologizes for blackface incident,” describes an apology letter written by a London police officer, who was photographed in neck coils, tribal clothing and brown face makeup for a Halloween event.  While not a police officer at the time the photographs were taken, the London Police understood the implications of the officer’s participation in degrading and demeaning representations of black people as affirming a widely held belief of racial bias in police shootings and crime rates.


To further emphasize the relevance of minstrelsy in contemporary society, Philip S.S. Howard argues in “Blackface in Canada” that although “there appears, in some ways, to have been a resurgence of these [minstrel] acts in the last 10-15 years, it cannot trill be said that blackface ever entirely lost popularity here in the interim.” In his conclusion, Howard argues that while contemporary incidents of blackface “spark intense debate,” there are many attempts “to justify it as harmless fun, and in some cases suggesting that those who are offended by it are ‘too sensitive’ or bound by unwarranted ‘political correctness.'” However, contemporary blackface continues to draw on the tropes and traditions of the minstrel show, reiterating stereotypes of Black inferiority and ideas of white racial supremacy that are more ingrained — and dangerous — than we realize.

Revelation: The Story of the British Methodist Episcopal Church

Emilie Gauthier Black, Andrew Scrofano, Charlotte Edwards, Loraine Weir

Introduction 

The British Methodist Episcopal Church. A building. A community. A forgotten relic of the past. A monument to a history of blackness in a city that is unaware it exists. A site where bishops, female ministers, and settlers established a symbol of black identity. This place, known familiarly as the BME church, embodies the spirit of Guelph’s black community. 


History and Formation of the BME Church 

The story of the BME church did not begin from a unified community. Fragmented by racial segregation, black settlers came to Guelph in the mid-19th century as a result of limited employment and housing opportunities throughout Ontario. Driven to establish a sense of community, these early settlers aimed to create a new identity for black individuals that had been racially oppressed. John S. Brooks, an early settler of the Queen’s Bush Settlement, contributed to the cultivation of black identity in Guelph through his efforts to organize populations and churches scattered throughout the province. Brooks realized that organization of donations was necessary in order to sustain the funding for black churches throughout Ontario. His piecing together of various black populations in the province illustrates a unification of a black community that had been fragmented by racial segregation. Through their efforts to oppose racial division, these early settlers contributed to an identity of black presence that allowed for the development of the BME church.

Overcoming racially-imposed hardship was a challenge the early Guelph settlers were well familiar with.  Members of the Queen’s Bush Settlement – the community from which the church was established – had previously experienced difficulties in obtaining property ownership in predominantly white Ontarian cities. Despite their limited resources and restricted ownership opportunities, however, the Guelph settlers succeeded in obtaining a legal land claim. This claim, lot 383, would become the home of the BME church when it was formed on 83 Essex St in 1880.  The group’s achievement represents not only the success of a unified black Guelph community, but also a legally recognized claim to the BME church. The congregation’s influence within the city of Guelph embodied the church’s objective, which aimed to overcome racial barriers and assert black presence. 


The BME Church and the Guelph Community 

A photograph of Mabel Adeline (Addie) Aylestock, who became the first female minister to be ordained at the British Methodist Episcopal Church in 1951, as well as the first black woman to be ordained in Canada. Retreived from The Canadian Encyclopedia.
A photograph of Mabel Adeline (Addie) Aylestock, who became the first female minister to be ordained at the British Methodist Episcopal Church in 1951, as well as the first black woman to be ordained in Canada. Retreived from The Canadian Encyclopedia.
In the unifying process cultivated by the BME church, several iconic leaders emerged that would further demonstrate the group’s ability to thrive within Guelph. Just as the church overcame racial obstacles to land ownership, individuals such as Addie Aylestock and Walter Hawkins overcame racist attitudes to achieve significant process for black development in Canada. Aylestock and Hawkins exemplified models of excellence by challenging racist conventions that posited peoples of black culture as incapable of achievements. Hawkins, a preacher who rose to the rank of bishop in the late-19th century, dedicated himself to furthering his status within the BME church. Similarly, Aylestock dedicated her life in servitude to the church, becoming the first black woman ordained in Canada as well as a deaconess in 1959. In achieving their positions, Hawkins and Aylestock demonstrated that black individuals living in Ontario could pursue achievements despite racist attitudes that attempted to deprive them of opportunities. Together, their body of work championed the liberation of black people, united the black community, and gave shape to the BME church.  

A photograph of Walter Hawkins,a bishop who preached at the British Methodist Episcopal Church in Guelph during the 19th century. Source: From Slavery to a Bishopric, Or, The Life of Bishop Walter Hawkins of the British Methodist Episcopal Church, Canada by S. J. Celestine Edwards, 1891
A photograph of Walter Hawkins,a bishop who preached at the British Methodist Episcopal Church in Guelph during the 19th century. Source: From Slavery to a Bishopric, Or, The Life of Bishop Walter Hawkins of the British Methodist Episcopal Church, Canada by S. J. Celestine Edwards, 1891

The developing black identity modeled by the BME church led to its increasing role within the Guelph community. Because individuals such as Hawkins and Aylestock forged a stronger black presence within the city of Guelph, the church was able to engage in citywide events such as Tag Day.

A letter from the city of Guelph, dated April 18, 1961, granting permission to the British Methodist Episcopal Church to host a Tag Day. It is archived at the Guelph Civic Museum.
A letter from the city of Guelph, dated April 18, 1961, granting permission to the British Methodist Episcopal Church to host a Tag Day. It is archived at the Guelph Civic Museum.
Tag Day, an event where citizens would provide the church with a donation in exchange for a tag to wear, allowed the organization to sustain itself through funding. The event integrated the BME church with the greater population of Guelph, and was officially recognized by city officials. As an occasion where the church utilized its influence to obtain a larger community outreach, Tag Day illustrates the growing significance of the church. The city of Guelph’s official acknowledgment of the church not only signifies its importance to the history of Ontario, but also situates the BME church as a monument unique to the municipality of Guelph.  

A document from the Ontario Land Registry, which documents proof of ownership of land for the British Methodist Church in 1880. It is archived at the Guelph Civic Museum.
A document from the Ontario Land Registry, which documents proof of ownership of land for the British Methodist Church in 1880. It is archived at the Guelph Civic Museum.


Conclusion 

The British Methodist Episcopal Church did not achieve its position without struggle. Its members came from communities fragmented by segregation and oppressed by racial discrimination. It is out of this separation, however, that a unified black identity was formed. Leaders such as Aylestock and Hawkins surfaced, challenging racial stereotypes that had existed in Ontario for years. Settlers like John S. Brooks obtained legally-recognized land ownership, an accomplishment that was previously unimaginable for black Canadians. Moreover, an integration with the city was achieved when segregation of black cultures had made such a feat impossible. These achievements undeniably position the BME church as one of the most important historical sites in the city of Guelph. 


Works Cited

“Addie Aylestock.” The Canadian Encyclopedia, October 4, 2016.            www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/addie-aylestock. Accessed 8 November         2018.

Brown-Kubisch, Linda. The Queen’s Bush Settlement. Dundurn, 2004. Print.

“History – Local.” Guelph Black Heritage Societywww.guelphblackheritage.ca/in-the-news/.     Accessed 8 November 2018. 

Montgomery, Marc. “Underground Railroad church in Ontario named heritage site.” Radio Canada International, 13 Aug. 2013, http://www.rcinet.ca/en/2013/08/13/underground-railroad-church-in-ontario-named-heritage-site/. Accessed 7 November 2018.

“Underground Railroad church becomes Guelph heritage site.” CBC News, 9 Aug. 2013,            https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/kitchener-waterloo/underground-railroad-church becomes-guelph-heritage-site-1.1370700. Accessed 8 November 2018.

Williams, Dawn. Who’s Who in Black Canada 2: Black Success and Black Excellence in Canada. University of Toronto Press Inc., 2006. Print.