Susan Burch and Hannah Joyner, authors of Unspeakable:
The Story of Junius Wilson, on the lessons that must be learned from one man's tragic life.
Q: Why is the story of Junius Wilson so
remarkable? Tell us a little bit about him and his
life.
A: Junius Wilson was a deaf
African-American born in North Carolina during the early years of the
twentieth century. In 1925 he was accused of the attempted rape of a
relative, found insane at a lunacy hearing, committed to the criminal
ward of the State Hospital for the Colored Insane, and surgically
castrated. Although he may have been falsely accused, was not found
guilty, and was apparently never diagnosed as insane or retarded, Wilson
was still an inmate at the hospital sixty-five years later. What
happened to him once his advocates realized that he was completely
misplaced is the subject of the final chapters of the book.
Wilson's story is "remarkable" in both its power and its particulars.
But we should not dismiss his history as merely an isolated story,
irrelevant to our understanding of the past more generally.
Fundamentally, what happened to Wilson highlights the extent of what a
society based on hierarchy and violence can do to its most vulnerable
members. His story allows us to explore the depth of racism and
disability discrimination, the intersection of Jim Crow policies and the
eugenics movement, the impact of institutionalization, the changing
meanings of mental health and social work across the twentieth century,
and the unexpected sources of strength that emerged in the face of such
a terrible tragedy.
Q: How did you first become aware of Junius
Wilson?
A: Living in North Carolina in the
1990s, Hannah read about Wilson in local newspapers when his story first
became public. In 2000, Susan was researching issues of diversity in
America's deaf community and found the same articles Hannah had read.
After initial research, it was clear to Susan that this story deserved
greater attention. Wilson's advocates agreed, and generously provided
access to private materials and memories. A shared interest in deaf
history and African American history made our collaboration an obvious
choice.
Q: Wilson attended a segregated institution,
Raleigh's North Carolina School for the Colored Blind and Deaf. How was
he educated? What kind of sign language was used at the
school?
A: A: Wilson became part of a
rich cultural community at the segregated deaf school, one that had its
own form of sign language (called Raleigh signs) that deaf people - black
or white - elsewhere did not know. At white schools for the deaf, in North
Carolina and around the nation, students used American Sign Language.
Within the confines of the Raleigh school, the linguistic isolation was
not a problem; Wilson and his peers shared a common language as well as
a rich cultural identity. But when Wilson was kicked out of the school,
he was unable to communicate clearly even with his relatives and
neighbors back home. His linguistic isolation contributed to the
wrenching experiences he endured.
Q: In what ways did Junius Wilson's racial
background in the Jim Crow South allow the charges to be made against
him?
A: Complicated issues of race,
economics, family, and disability contributed to Wilson's initial
arrest, but it appears that racial stereotypes also particularly
affected his treatment in jail. The white jailer, judge, and jury likely
saw the charge against Wilson - attempted rape of an African American
woman - as proof of his genetic and racial inferiority. Like the image of
the savage black rapist in Birth of a Nation, a movie that played to
packed houses in Wilmington the week he was sentenced, Wilson seemed
threatening. His inability to speak vocally (the result of his deafness)
only emphasized his dangerousness. To the white observers at the
courthouse, Wilson's staring, gesturing, and inarticulate speech were
perceived not as deaf behaviors but as manifestations of his status as
the 'black savage.'
Q: Was Junius Wilson illiterate as well as
deaf? If so, does this explain why he was unable to defend himself in
writing against the accusation of rape?
A: Literacy presented a
surprisingly complicated issue in Wilson's story. Having attended a
segregated deaf school for eight years, he had some literacy
skills - although how much is unclear. Despite the fact that Wilson could
in fact write at least basic information, the jailer, judge, and jury
all apparently assumed that the deaf man was illiterate. They never
provided paper or pen to the prisoner.
Language and racial barriers barred Wilson from a fair trial. No one who
could understand Wilson played any part in his hearing. The assumptions
of the jailors and judge combined with the accusation of attempted rape
primarily defined the court proceedings. Wilson never stood trial for
attempted rape nor was he ever found guilty of any crime. Instead, he
was sent to the criminal ward of an insane asylum.
Q: What were Junius Wilson's relationships
with staff members and with other patients at Cherry Hospital in
Goldsboro, North Carolina like?
A: Many people assume that inmates
in a psychiatric hospital don't share a sense of community, but Wilson's
story shows a rich and diverse social history. He clearly had warm
friendships with several staff members, playing pranks and running
errands for them. He also interacted with other patients both in and out
of the wards. They had a surprising amount of mobility around the campus
of the institution. Wilson and other patients dug worms from the
riverbanks to sell to various locals on their way to favorite fishing
holes. From the money he made at this entrepreneurial activity, Wilson
eventually bought himself bicycles, which allowed him to explore the
area and get to know other citizens in the town of Goldsboro.
In addition, his relationship with another black deaf inmate from a
similar background, James McNeil, points out that Wilson's story is not
as singular as we might have wished. The ways in which Wilson, McNeil,
and others provided support to each other and a sense of belonging
reminds us that 'life on the inside' is as much a rich lived experience
as life on the outside.
Q: When was it discovered that Junius Wilson
was not insane?
A: Wilson was sentenced to an
insane asylum in 1925, but evidence suggests that he never received a
formal diagnosis of insanity. Following the trend to deinstitutionalize
patient - inmates, staff at Cherry Hospital in the 1970s looked more
closely at Wilson's case and doctors began to acknowledge that he was
not mentally ill and almost certainly never had been. In spite of this
fact, they chose to keep him another two decades in the locked wards of
the institution.
Q: What was Junius Wilson's life like after
he was finally freed?
A: Newspapers and advocates
proclaimed that Wilson was "free at last" when he was transferred from
the locked wards to a renovated cottage on the hospital grounds. There
was much to celebrate. For example, he now had the ability to make more
decisions about his daily schedule, including taking car trips away from
the hospital grounds. Wilson also acquired more personal property to
call his own. He loved to show off his hat collection to his visitors.
But moving to the cottage wasn't a complete victory. Hospital policies
meant that Wilson couldn't have friends stay overnight. He was closely
supervised at all times by the same staff members who had supervised him
in the locked wards. For the first year in his cottage, he didn't even
have a key to open his own front door. Some argued that this was no
liberationÑonly another form of captivity, furnished with colonial style
fixtures and a front porch. Junius Wilson's story is complex,
demonstrating how difficult it is for even well-intentioned people to
determine how to undo years of injustice.
Q: How did you research Unspeakable?
A: Researching this work was an
adventure in itself. Wilson left behind precious few clues - like diaries
or letters - that show how he saw his life and the world around him. We
were fortunate to have access to his medical files, but privacy rights
policies and hospital mandates made it especially difficult to find
answers to some of the thorny questions Wilson's experiences raised
about the lives of institutionalized people.
To learn about some of the events of Wilson's life, we were able to use
court documents, public hospital records, newspapers, census records,
and school reports. But the richest sources for us were the many
interviews (some in sign language) that we conducted with friends,
family, and others who knew Wilson. As outsiders to both the African
American deaf community and to psychiatric hospitals, as well as other
communities whose members we interviewed, we had to be especially
sensitive in our approach to this deeply troubling history. The people
we talked to were incredibly generous with their time and memories. It
is clear that Wilson touched many lives and that many people wanted his
story to be told.
Q: It is unusual for a biography to be
co-written. Can you tell us about your experience working
together?
A: Part of the gift of writing
this work was doing it collaboratively. We have very different
approaches to history, and different talents. Working together allowed
us not only to bounce ideas off each other. Each of our strengths could
come through. It also helped us learn new working styles that may
influence future projects even when we're not working together.
Collaboration was especially helpful while writing this particular book.
Because this story is fundamentally about isolation, we were mindful of
the benefits of having another person just as intimately involved with
the story with whom we could share our ideas and experiences as well as
our emotional reactions.
Q: What do you hope will be the impact of
Unspeakable?
A: We as a society have a lot
more to learn about the experiences of many of the people of this world.
This work strives to shed light into some of these unexamined corners.
African Americans from all walks of life remain in the margins of too
many of our academic studies, as do deaf people of all walks of life.
These two populations are both everywhere present and far too rarely
seen. Institutionalized people are almost always left out of the story
of our past. It is certainly our hope that this book will encourage
others to investigate people who at first glance seem to be unknowable
or invisible.
At the same time, we hope that Wilson's story will help us remember how
complex history can be. Writing Unspeakable forced the two of us to move
away from simple accusations or understandings. It would be easy, for
instance, to place the blame for the injustices Wilson experienced on
racist judges or hospital administrators. But in reality, the issues
Wilson presented to participants in his story - participants from family
members at the beginning of the twentieth century to social activists at
its end - required them all to engage in intricate moral thinking. The
truth of human motivations is far more complex than simple good and
evil.
This is a story with many heroes: people who tried to do the right thing
for Junius Wilson and for their families and communities. They all faced
limitations on their heroism - limitations shaped by their times. Racism,
disability discrimination, the power of institutions and
institutionalization - as well as the effects of deeply entrenched
poverty - chiseled into the options available to those who sought to act
justly.
We hope that as readers explore how this story could happen, they will
explore their own moral landscapes, and the moral landscape of this
country. Fundamentally, Wilson's story is an American tale, and thus it
is part of us all.
