Dear Science McKittrick
Dear Science McKittrick
Dear Science McKittrick
K AT H E R I N E M c K I T T R I C K
DEAR SCIENCE AND OTHER STORIES
Katherine McKittrick
DUKE UNIVERSIT Y PRESS DURHAM AND LONDON 2021
T H E R E S U LT O F A C L I N I C A L E R R O R
I have been experimenting with these and other stories for a long
time. Thank you to the many students, faculty, staff, who invited
me to share these ideas, as well as colleagues and friends who par-
ticipated in panels, symposia, workshops, conversations. The feedback
has been, and is, invaluable, admired, and appreciated. Many thanks to
all those who administered and arranged travel, accommodations, and
day-to-day activities during visits elsewhere. The referee comments are
cherished. The readers encouraged me to think with and through this
project and imagine sites-citations unseen. My parents, Valerie Brodrick
and Robert McKittrick, have provided decades of support and love for
which I am grateful. In addition to camaraderie and an indescribable criti-
cal eye, Simone Browne read a few iterations of Dear Science — thank you
for taking the time to support these stories in a world that effaces black
time. Ruthie Gilmore offered generosity, notes, time, stories, space, fu-
tures, friendship. Sylvia Wynter’s conversation, kindness, and commit-
ment to black intellectual life is admired, always. Zilli, endlessly curious
and studied, provided scaffolding, contexts, walls, shelves, books, writ-
ings, ideas, love, photographs, songs, codes, mechanics, guitar tabs, nota-
tions, grooves that are immeasurable. Shortcomings weigh; the imper-
fections within are all mine. There are songs and musicians referenced
throughout these stories and, still, the blap-zomp-tonk is unsatisfactorily
The title of this story, “My Heart Makes My Head Swim,” is from Frantz Fanon’s Black Skin,
White Masks, trans. Charles Lam Markmann (1952; rpt., New York: Grove, 1967), 140.
1. The title of this collection of stories, Dear Science, is borrowed from tv on the Radio,
Dear Science, Interscope, 2008.
2. June Jordan, “Inaugural Rose,” in Directed by Desire: The Collected Poems of June Jor
dan, ed. Jan Heller Levi and Sara Miles (Port Townsend, WA: Copper Canyon Press, 2007),
297.
3. I shy away from black science fiction and Afrofuturism and, for the most part — when
addressing science specifically — settle on exploring the ways black creatives engage science
outside these genres. Although this list is a too-small sample of the expansive work in black
science fiction, black speculative fiction, and Afrofuturism, see Kodwo Eshun, “Further
Considerations of Afrofuturism,” cr: The New Centennial Review 3, no. 2 (Summer 2003):
387 – 402; André M. Carrington, Speculative Blackness: The Future of Race in Science Fiction
(Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2016); and Sami Schalk, Bodyminds Reimag
ined: (Dis)ability, Race, and Gender in Black Women’s Speculative Fiction (Durham, NC: Duke
University, 2018).
4. Sylvia Wynter, “Beyond Miranda’s Meanings: Un/Silencing the ‘Demonic Ground’
of Caliban’s ‘Woman,’ ” in Out of the Kumbla: Caribbean Women and Literature, ed. Carole
Boyce Davies and Elaine Savory Fido (Trenton, NJ: Africa World Press, 1990), 355 – 372; Syl-
via Wynter and Katherine McKittrick, “Unparalleled Catastrophe for Our Species? Or, to
Give Humanness a Different Future: Conversations,” in Sylvia Wynter: On Being Human as
Praxis, ed. Katherine McKittrick (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2015), 9 – 89. See
also Aimé Césaire, “Poetry and Knowledge,” in Lyric and Dramatic Poetry, trans. Clayton
Eshleman and Annette Smith (Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 1990), xlii – lvi.
A biocentric system of knowledge that assumes we are, totally and completely and purely,
biological beings, beholden to evolution and its attendant teleological temporalities, rather
than humans who are physiological-story-makers, both bios and mythoi, who produce fic-
tive evolutionary stories about our biological selves. “Biocentric” is defined numerous times
throughout this text, although the explanation in the story “(Zong) Bad Made Measure” is
the most comprehensive.
5. Dear Science works with scientia (knowledge) in its most general sense. Science (biol-
ogy, math, physics, and so on) animates scientia, but science (testable materials, systematic
methods that result in explanation, experiments and predictions and discoveries) is not the
central preoccupation of Dear Science. Science is a shadow, a story, a friendship. Science re-
veals failed attachments.
6. Fanon, Black Skin, White Masks, 140.
7. Malini Ranganathan, “Thinking with Flint: Racial Liberalism and the Roots of an
American Water Tragedy,” Capitalism Nature Socialism 27, no. 3 (2016): 18.
8. Danyel Haughton, your question still sits with me. See also Katherine McKittrick,
“Plantation Futures,” Small Axe 17, no. 3 (November 2013): 1 – 15; Billie Holiday, “Strange
Fruit,” Commodore, 1939.
STORY
The ideas and curiosities gathered in Dear Science are bundled and pre-
sented as stories. Telling, sharing, listening to, and hearing stories are re-
lational and interdisciplinary acts that are animated by all sorts of people,
places, narrative devices, theoretical queries, plots. The process is sus-
tained by invention and wonder. The story has no answers. The stories
offer an aesthetic relationality that relies on the dynamics of creating-
narrating-listening-hearing-reading-and-sometimes-unhearing. The sto-
13. VèVè Clark, “Developing Diaspora Literacy: Allusion in Maryse Condé’s Hérémak
honon,” in Out of the Kumbla: Caribbean Women and Literature, ed. Carole Boyce Davies and
Elaine Savory Fido (Trenton, NJ: Africa World Press, 1990), 308 – 309.
14. Clark, “Developing Diaspora Literacy,” 308 – 309.
15. W. E. B. Du Bois, The Souls of Black Folk (1903; rpt., New York: Vintage, 1990); Robin
D. G. Kelley, Freedom Dreams: The Black Radical Imagination (Boston: Beacon, 2002); Au-
dre Lorde, “Uses of the Erotic: The Erotic as Power,” in Sister Outsider (Berkeley, CA: Cross-
ing Press, 1984), 53 – 59; M. NourbeSe Philip, She Tries Her Tongue, Her Silence Softly Breaks
(Charlottetown, Canada: Ragweed Press, 1989), 51 – 53.
16. Barbara Christian writes: “I am inclined to say that our theorizing (and I intention-
ally use the verb rather than the noun) is often in narrative forms, in the stories we create,
in riddles and proverbs, in the play with language, because dynamic rather than fixed ideas
seem more to our liking. How else have we managed to survive with such spiritedness the
assault on our bodies, social institutions, countries, our very humanity?” Barbara Christian,
“The Race for Theory,” Feminist Studies 14, no. 1 (Spring 1998): 68. See also Saidiya Hart-
man on “critical fabulation,” in “Venus in Two Acts,” Small Axe 12, no. 2 (June 2008): 1 – 1 4.
Hazel V. Carby’s Imperial Intimacies: A Tale of Two Islands (London: Verson, 2019) is, for
me, a beautiful and creative work that offers a mode of storytelling that captures and bends
disciplined-i nterdisciplined genres.
17. Listen to Prince, “F.U.N.K.,” NPG Digital, 2007.
18. Kevin Young, The Grey Album: On the Blackness of Blackness (Minneapolis: Gray-
wolf, 2012).
19. Dina Georgis, The Better Story: Queer Affects from the Middle East (New York: suny
Press, 2013), 1, 18.
20. Ruth Wilson Gilmore, Golden Gulag: Prisons, Surplus, Crisis, and Opposition in Glob
alizing California (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2007).
SIMULTA NEI T Y
Sylvia Wynter writes that we are a “storytelling species,” while also ob-
serving that our stories — especially our origin stories — have an impact
on our neurobiological and physiological behaviors.22 Her observations
draw attention to the natural sciences as well as interdisciplinarity, em-
phasizing a dynamic connection between narrative and biology (stories
have the capacity to move us). In addition to contesting a teleological-
biocentric genre of the human, the dynamism between biology and nar-
rative affirms the black methodologies noted above: science and story are
not discrete; rather, we know, read, create, and feel science and story si-
multaneously.23 Or, we tell and feel stories (in our hearts), and this telling-
feeling tells-feels the empirics of black life. Reading across our curiosities,
the story and imagination are testimonies grounded in the material ex-
pression of black life. The story has physiological components. And sto-
ries make place.24 This means the metaphoric, allegorical, symbolic, and
other devices that shape stories also move us and make place. These nar-
rative devices, so thick and complicated in black studies, demand think-
ing about the interdisciplinary underpinnings of black studies beyond
an additive model.25 Conceptualizing stories and attendant narrative de-
26. Neil Smith and Cindi Katz, “Grounding Metaphor: Towards a Spatialized Politics,”
in Place and the Politics of Identity, ed. Michael Keith and Steve Pile (New York: Routledge,
1993), 67 – 83.
27. Smith and Katz, “Grounding Metaphor,” 80.
28. Rhetorical wealth, telegraphic coding, overdetermined normative properties.
Hortense Spillers, “Mama’s Baby, Papa’s Maybe: An American Grammar Book,” in Black,
White, and in Color: Essays on American Literature and Culture (Chicago: University of Chi-
cago Press, 2003), 203.
29. Katherine McKittrick, “On Plantations, Prisons, and a Black Sense of Place,” Journal
of Social and Cultural Geography 12, no. 8 (2011): 947 – 963.
30. We cannot risk exclusively and solely relying on metaphors or analogies or symbols
as literary devices that advance our argument about blackness. We cannot drop blackness
into the realm of motif, and depart, disguising the difficult and complicated and extraliter-
ary worlds that animate and are relational to black life.
31. Katherine McKittrick, Demonic Grounds: Black Women and the Cartographies of Strug
gle (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2006), 16 – 19; Tanya Titchkosky, “Life
with Dead Metaphors: Impairment Rhetoric in Social Justice Praxis,” Journal of Literary and
Cultural Disability Studies 9, no. 1 (2015): 1 – 18. Read, too, Toni Morrison on metaphor in her
“Disturbing Nurses and the Kindness of Sharks,” from Playing in the Dark: Whiteness and the
Literary Imagination (New York: Random House, 1990), 62 – 91.
COLLAPSE
The task is, I believe, to get in touch with the materiality of our analyti-
cal worlds, draw attention to how black studies thinks across a range of
places, times, genres, texts, shadows, grooves that are punctuated with
diasporic literacy, and collectively think-k now-l ive black life as curious,
studied, and grounded. The analytics, as story, allows us to learn and
share, and get in touch, without knowing totally. Thus, as we grieve long-
standing racial violences, as we are punched by memories of those we
have lost, as we archive the most brutal of punishments, as we are weighed
down by losing her, them, over and over and we know her and we do not
know her and we did not know their name until it happened (we did not
know his name until he was gone, I did not know his name, I cannot know,
I found the name, I came across her after she was gone) and we feel heart-
break and we see it again and again, as we study the severity of plantation
temporalities (then-now), as we are weighed down, and the loss is there
beside us, as we grieve and collapse, we do not know absolutely. Still. Los-
ing her. Dear Science seeks to tell and live and generate an ethical distance.
I hope to write an ethical distance while recognizing that our collective
histories of racial violence put pressure on how we live, now.33 I found her
picture. I hope to write an ethical distance and grieve what I, we, can-
not know without industry-of-objecthood enveloping her. I kept your
secret.
32. Teju Cole, “Double Negative,” in Known and Strange Things (New York: Random
House, 2016), 71.
33. Simone Browne, Dark Matters: On the Surveillance of Blackness (Durham, NC: Duke
University Press, 2015); Dionne Brand, A Map to the Door of No Return: Notes to Belonging
(Toronto: Vintage, 2002).
In Dear Science, I write and study stories about algorithms, lists, science,
footnotes (references, citations), plantations, consciousness, grooves and
beats, poetry, geography, methodology, and theory. The stories are inter-
disciplinary narratives that use and amend the academic form to wade
through complexities of black intellectual life. This project shares what
I have learned from friends, colleagues, students, musicians, writers, and
poets, and it also includes some photos of texts, images, stories, and songs
that have helped me work out what I have and have not learned. This
book is very much indebted to the writings of Édouard Glissant and Syl-
via Wynter — t wo very different thinkers who have inspired me (many
of us) to keep reading and sharing and wondering. The stories are con-
nected but can be read in any order. These are stories about black life. The
stories begin from the premise that liberation is an already existing and
unfinished and unmet possibility, laced with creative labor, that emerges
from the ongoing collaborative expression of black humanity and black
livingness.