One day during fieldwork I was in the public library and I wandered into an exhibition of quilts by local African American artists. I paused at this one because, as you can see, it’s a striking work commenting directly on the conditions of toxic crisis in Flint. The hues of fabric squares tell a story of Flint water where it starts, at the top of the quilt, as a clear blue. The blue then changes to brown, then green, and then at the bottom returns to blue. “Safe?” reads the final, inconclusive wording embroidered at the bottom of the quilt. I have an opportunity to meet the artist, Nanette Chisholm, who tells me that as long as the water crisis continues, they’ll put this quilt out at every exhibition her quilting association does.
One day during fieldwork I was in the public library and I wandered into an exhibition of quilts by local African American artists. I paused at this one because, as you can see, it’s a striking work commenting directly on the conditions of toxic crisis in Flint. The hues of fabric squares tell a story of Flint water where it starts, at the top of the quilt, as a clear blue. The blue then changes to brown, then green, and then at the bottom returns to blue. “Safe?” reads the final, inconclusive wording embroidered at the bottom of the quilt. I have an opportunity to meet the artist, Nanette Chisholm, who tells me that as long as the water crisis continues, they’ll put this quilt out at every exhibition her quilting association does.