Sylvia D. Hamilton

Sylvia Hamilton

[A photograph of Sylvia D. Hamilton, from her professional page as Assistant Professor and Rogers Chair in Communications at the University of King’s College, Halifax]

Who counts as an historical subject? Who is worthy of our attention when historians tease out the narratives we call “history” from the amorphous past? And, moreover, who is the “we,” the “our” that can be found – sometimes explicitly, other times just a looming threat – in historical writing? For today’s post – the last in our celebration of Black History Month – I want to highlight Sylvia D. Hamilton, a Black Canadian filmmaker, and writer who has helped to shift both who counts as an historical subject in Canada and who counts as the historian, the always present “our” in historical writing. Sylvia D. Hamilton is therefore both historian and historical subject, both the one crafting narratives and the one centred in various stories.

Instead of the usual post where myself or Spirit write a tribute to an historical (and in this case, living) person, or set of persons, I will in its place allow for Hamilton’s own words to tell you where she is from and why she does the work she does. The following is an excerpt from her fantastic 2012 article “When and Where I Enter: History, Film and Memory.” Let her words inform you, remind you, or perhaps even challenge you into thinking about how Blackness is an integral part of the Canadian national project, and about how the same issues of anti-Black racism that exist in the United States punctuate Canadian history (and the many Canadian presents), as well:

Since our earliest days in Canada as African-descended people, we have striven to find a compass: to locate ourselves in this vast land, to plot our position on the physical and mental map of Canada…

I am the grateful daughter of Marie Nita Waldron and Gerald Mac Hamilton, the granddaughter of Ida Grosse and Gilbert Hamilton and of Hattie Kellum and William Waldron, and the great granddaughter of Charlotte and Charles Grosse. William Waldron was a sailor and watchmaker who came to Halifax from the Barbados at the turn of the century and married Hattie Kellum. All are the reason I can stand before you today.

I have become a seeker, trying to plot some of the co-ordinates, not just for myself, but also for others. For me, as a filmmaker and a writer, history and memory combine to create a lens through which I view the present. These joint themes figure in much of my work that draws on oral story telling, archival and other found documents and objects, and on geography to tell stories about African Nova Scotians and African Canadians generally.

My work re-inserts and re-positions African-descended people in our landscapes by presenting stories and images of people being witnesses to their own lives. Their experiences and stories are the evidence of their realities. I think that a true understanding of our past and its meaning, one rooted in our bones, is vital to our future.


Thank you to Sylvia D. Hamilton, for telling your story.

~ M

P.S. I encourage everyone who has access, to read Sylvia D. Hamilton’s article cited here. And I especially encourage everyone to watch her fantastic and at times heartbreaking documentary The Little Black Schoolhouse (2007) which chronicles the experiences of Black Canadians who were subjected to school segregation in Nova Scotia.


Hamilton, Sylvia D. “When and Where I Enter: History, Film and Memory.” Acadiensis XLI, no. 2 (Summer/Autumn 2012): 3-16.





Sylvia D. Hamilton

Nicky Hallett

Since Monique and I launched this blog in September, I’ve wanted to feature a nun. As I wrote, revised and scrapped posts though, I realised that, despite a number of early modern Catholic nuns having characteristics that inspire me, many were also problematic figures. Some advocated crusading, others participated in aggressive missionisation among indigenous populations. In short, many were not people I feel comfortable labelling historical hotties. I’m sure that as I move forward in my research, I’ll learn about and feature some of the nuns I study. For now, I’m excited to post about an incredible, provocative historian of nuns: Nicky Hallett.

In 2013 Hallett published The Senses in Religious Communities, 1600-1800: Early Modern ‘Convents of Pleasure. For readers unfamiliar with sensory history, I believe this book will prove to be one of the genre’s great works. Early modern histories of the senses have tended to apply anachronistically present-day notions about the senses to the past. But Hallett avoids approaching the sensory experiences of nuns from present-day perspectives. Instead, she respects the priorities of her historical subjects where the senses were concerned.

Although the Teresian Carmelite nuns she studies meditated on senses such as smell in order move out of their bodies and closer to the divine, Hallett does not dismiss the ways they understood or experienced their senses as backward, incorrect or delusional. Instead, she presents the nuns’ practice of mastering their senses as a demonstration that both notions about and experiences of the senses are plural and mutable rather universal and fixed. Hallett points out that “secular philosophers necessarily have conceptualised smell from a human point of view.”[1] By contrast, the nuns she studies used the senses in order to bring themselves nearer to God. By taking seriously the Teresian Carmelite discipline of mastering the senses, Hallet undermines the essentialist assumption that each sense has a true/natural mode of operation.[2]

What’s most important about Hallett’s argument is that it does not perpetuate ideas that early modern people understood their senses incorrectly. Rather, she shows the plurality of valid ways of sensing, knowing and being. This isn’t just good news for students of history like myself who want to study the senses respectfully and meaningfully. It’s also an affirmation for those of us interested in challenging right now—today—assumptions that certain present-day cultures have more truthful ways of knowing and being in the world than others.



[1] Hallett, Nicky. The Senses in Religious Communities, 1600-1800 : Early Modern “Convents of Pleasure.” (Farnham: Ashgate, 2013), 164.

[2] Ibid., 162, 164.

Nicky Hallett

John Bossy (1933-2015)

It is very common for students of history come across scholars whose work is game changing for them. Perhaps a certain argument upends a firmly entrenched assumption, or a particular article, book or whole body of work presents a methodological or theoretical approach that you had never before considered, but becomes fundamental in your own work.

When I was working on my BA, I came across a particular historian whose work completely shattered my preconceived notions about Catholicism (historically and in the present day), especially in terms of the social aspects of life for late medieval and early modern Catholics. This historian radically changed and enhanced the way I think about history at large, and led me to the course of study I am on today. He died last month, and so this week I tip my hat to John Bossy.

I’m not sure it’s possible to overstress the importance of Bossy’s great works, The English Catholic community, 1570-1850 and Christianity in the West, 1400-1700, both of which highlight the deeply communal aspects of late medieval Catholicism and how reform affected important social aspects of shared faith. My first exposure to his work was in reading his seminal 1983 article, “The Mass as a Social Institution 1200-1700,” which shows how deeply connected were the links between the religious and the social in early modern communities and lives, thereby completely overhauling my understanding of what it meant to be a Catholic at this time.

Though his perspective on the social changes wrought by religious reform was more negative than my own, his work is absolutely foundational to the way I think about this period. I could not do the work I do without it. His contributions to the field remain as invaluable today as they were when first published. And they continue to inspire students.


An obituary written by one of Bossy’s friends and colleagues, Simon Ditchfield, can be read here:


The English Catholic Community, 1570-1850. Darton, Longman and Todd, 1975.

“The Mass as a Social Institution 1200-1700.” Past & Present, no. 100 (August 1, 1983): 29–61.

Bossy, John. Christianity in the West, 1400-1700. New York: Oxford University Press, 1985.



John Bossy (1933-2015)