I’d never considered T-shirts, flyers, scribbled notes or poems to be art. Not the kind that would hang on a museum wall, at least.

As I walked into the Harvard Radcliffe Institute’s “Rhyme, Rhythm and Resistance: Enacting the Art of Dissent” exhibit at the Schlesinger Library, I was skeptical of the collection’s focus on written works and posters rather than traditional visual arts. The exhibit, which opened on Nov. 4th, is up until March 28th and features the work of female activists who used art as a powerful form of protest and expression.

The exhibit, which brings together pieces that address a wide variety of social issues, is empowering and thought-provoking. Though the space may be small and the mediums of art unconventional, I quickly found myself wondering why we often limit ourselves to paintings, sculptures or sketches, when, as this exhibit proves, some perspectives are best shared through seemingly ordinary concert flyers and literally hanging metaphors.

Activists celebrated in the exhibit include poets June Jordan, Adrienne Rich, Pat Parker, playwright Adrienne Kennedy and the band Yeastie Girlz. The art addressed environmental racism, antisemitism, colonialism, sexism, homophobia and more through a range of emotions.

Inside one glass case was a collection dedicated to June Jordan comprised of photographs, handwritten notes and a poem. The poem, “Apologies to All the People in Lebanon” was directly beside notes and a eulogy Jordan had written about her friend Fannie Lou Hamer, a Civil Rights activist and co-founder of the Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party.

Though the handwritten pages were difficult to read, the juxtaposition of the two pieces, one seemingly polished while the other raw, not only introduced me to Jordan, but humanized her perspective and made me think about the real, unfiltered emotions and thoughts that inspired and dictated her art. The poem, “Dedicated to the 600,000 Palestinian men, women and children who have lived in Lebanon since 1948” is powerful on its own, and was made even more meaningful and impactful with her more personal works besides it.

The last lines of the poem, which read “I’m sorry./ I really am sorry,” are the perfect summation of a poem that is angry, apologetic and heartbroken. Next to the eulogy Jordan wrote for another activist, an early draft that feels almost like an invasion of privacy to look at, I was able to understand more and empathize with the deep internal guilt, heartbreak and frustration she felt.

The collection itself also felt like a form of activism, and in addition to specific pieces, the exhibit as a whole emphasized several aspects of social justice initiatives.

Upon my first walk-through of the exhibit, I observed and appreciated its message of the necessity for connections to be forged between activists in order to enact real social change. Though fighting for different missions, the inclusion of all of the artists in the same room bridged together their emotions, words and movements, implying that for there to be true justice, all people fighting for it must work together.

I was also struck by two goals of the museum, both of which were inspiring and moving.
The first was a focus obviously on promoting oppressed voices and experiences, either raw or polished, utilizing notebooks and photographs. Not only were they works of art, they were candid glimpses of everyday life.

The second was a display of strength. The visual art throughout was bold through color and shapes. One piece for example, a flyer from the papers of June Jordan, read “POETRY FOR THE PEOPLE” in white lettering, stark against a black background and red fist. A T-shirt behind a glass case read “ROCK AGAINST SEXISM,” an explosion of colors creating a backdrop for the jagged, striking words.

The positioning of art as well, elevated in glass cases, emphasized their importance and status. The messages of the poems especially, which hung on banners from the ceiling above viewers, were physically amplified. As I looked up to read them, it reminded me of watching someone speak on stage, their words falling down upon an audience’s ears.

While some of the art was incredibly vulnerable, the exhibit clearly had the intent of showing the strength of activists, their hope and social justice movements, a message necessary at this time.