Weblog launch at Minet Library

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On Monday 1 October 2007, on a very wet London evening, a group of people braved the weather to gather at Minet Library for the official launch of this weblog.

The launch consisted in a presentation about the origin of the project, and a demonstration of the blog (its contents and how to use it). Liz Obi shared with the audience some personal words about Olive, and qualified her interest in recuperating the memory of Olive Morris. The discussion was then opened to the audience, that included some people who knew Olive both personally and from references, and some others who simply wanted to find out more about her. Conversation continued over drinks and music, and people had a chance to look at the exhibition about Olive Morris that Liz Obi kindly brought into the Library. The few of us who went on in the search for a pub, were rewarded with a chance encounter with an old friend of Olive.

Many thanks to all that came, and to all of you who have sent emails of support, and volunteered help to take the project further.

Image © Lucia Pizzani. Image reproduced with permission of the author.

Liz Obi’s Remembering Olive exhibition can be seen at Minet Library until Friday 14 October. It will then go on tour to Lambeth’s Women Project (166A Stockwell Road), where on Tuesday 16 October 6.30 they will be launching a reading club with a selection of books related to Black History. Lambeth Women’s Project is currently facing the threat of closure. Visit their link to support their petition.

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Here is a personal account of the evening:

I arrived early to set up the equipment, and was soon joined by Liz, who brought the exhibition about Olive Morris she had presented in 2000 at Brixton Library. Liz also brought some candles, incense and some of her plants. The exhibition boards were covered in African textiles. As an artist, I was pleased to see (and gently reminded of) how little it takes to give a personal touch to what we do, when we take temporary occupation of an institutional space.

The presentation was introduced by Jon Newman from Lambeth Archives, who explained why the Archives had chosen to support the project. The use of weblog technology was an innovative tool, but also the fact that it was an artist-led project brought “a different sensibility” to their job of collecting and preserving local history.

Image © Ermiyas Mekonnen. Image reproduced with permission of the author.

I started the presentation by welcoming the audience, and as an introduction and a form of setting the wider background against which this project was conceived, we showed a 6 minutes long video, made the previous week in collaboration with Liz Obi.

I went on to tell the story of how I came to be interested in Olive Morris, a story that is also narrated in this blog in a separate post (The starting point).

Image © Lucia Pizzani. Image reproduced with permission of the author.

I then showed the blog and its contents to the audience, and explained the different sections in which I have tried to organise the information. I wanted to give a sense of the breadth of Olive Morris work and interests, but try to keep a non-linear, or non-chronological order. I described the fragmented way in which I have compiled the information, and that I hoped the blog maintained that open structure, where snapshots from Olive’s life and her times could be connected through the personal journeys or interests of those reading and contributing to the blog.

Image © Lucia Pizzani. Image reproduced with permission of the author.

Following the more formal part of the presentation, Liz Obi spoke to the audience about her personal relationship to Olive Morris, and about the journey she had embarked a few years ago when she decided to put together the Remembering Olive exhibition. Liz also spoke about Olive’s legacy and what she had learnt from her. She went on to tell the audience about her initial reticence when we first met: “what does this white woman wants to do with Olive’s story”, but understanding the motives she had agreed to collaborate and share her knowledge with me. Liz’s words of support and her engagement with the project had so far been crucial to the development of the blog.

In contrast to Liz’s own search for Olive’s history, where she both had the personal knowledge (dates, places, names) and the trust and access to those who knew and worked with Olive, the issue of me being an “outsider” is – I feel – quite central to the success or failure of the project.

Image © Lucia Pizzani. Image reproduced with permission of the author.

The conversation was then opened to the floor, and this is a summery of the things that were spoken about:

We had the pleasure to count amongst the audience with Sandra, who had known Olive despite being several years younger. Sandra told us how she had moved into 121 Railton Road squat after Liz and Olive moved out, and was involved with her partner in setting up and running Sabaar Bookshop. There was quite an animated discussion about the lack of awareness of this story of Black squats, and of the paradox of having a housing building named after Olive Morris. A lineage of Black squats was traced from 121 Railton Road, to the recently closed Rastafarian Centre at St Agnes Place.

There was also some debate as to whether the naming of buildings and streets are actually a positive thing and the desired recognition of Black people’s achievements, or whether – as Jon Newman pointed out – it could be simply a political gesture that can be easily undone, as it is actually happening in South London nowadays (the renaming of Mary Secoale House was given as an example). The current situation of Olive Morris House refurbishment was discussed, and this is one of the areas where the audience felt there could be some concrete outcome that could come out of this project.

Image © Ermiyas Mekonnen. Image reproduced with permission of the author.

Neil Kenlock – who was present, kindly offered to go through his archive and make his photographs of Olive available free of charge for this blog. Neil reminded the audience that it would be a pity if Olive Morris went down in history as a squatter, because above all, her fight was “a fight for equality, and this is how she should be remembered”. Neil spoke about his photograph (which was the trigger for this project), and told us about Olive’s courage and fearlessness. He said: “it took a lot of courage for her to stand there holding that placard. Those were tough times and many big and strong men didn’t have the gust to do it, but Olive did. She even took her shoes off”.

We also had the honor of counting with Tamara Lewis in the audience. Tamara is Olive’s niece but was born after her death. She said: “seeing and hearing all this, I keep thinking how happy Grandma would have been if she was here today”. This prompted some comments about Ms Doris Morris, and her own engagement with political activism, as the source of both the inspiration and the support that Olive found in her own family.

Image © Ermiyas Mekonnen. Image reproduced with permission of the author.

There was a sense – specially in those who knew little about Olive Morris – of the importance of recuperating her figure within our local community – not just as an inspiration for Black people, but as an example for everyone. As Liz said, what was most important about Olive’s legacy is that she showed us we all can, as individuals, make a difference. That this power we had as individuals to stand up against injustice, is a very real power and that we should not hesitate to use it on our own and in collaboration with others.

With the good atmosphere amongst the audience – a gathering of people paying respects and honoring the memory of Olive Morris – it was easy for all of us to push away the chairs and carry on chatting over a drink, to the sound of some classic reggae tracks.

When it was time to go, a small group of us started on the search for a local pub. We stumbled by chance upon an “old style Brixton pub” of the kind that have now vanished from Brixton centre. Just as we walked into the pub, Liz shouted and run after a man that was popping out to smoke a cigarette. He had been a close friend of Olive throughout her life, and over a few cigarettes shared in the outdoor cold, he pieced together with Liz some memories of Olive’s early youth and later years. It seemed to us that it had been Olive’s spirit guising us to that pub.

Image © Lucia Pizzani. Image reproduced with permission of the author.

Just after midnight Liz Obi, Oniel Williams and I walked together all the way to Brixton, still talking about Olive and her times, the fate of “the 70s struggle”, contemporary politics, the third world, and the reality of life in Brixton as experienced by our children. Just as we were coming into Coldharbour Lane we saw a police van, and several police officers in the process of searching two young Black men. One of the police officers was feeling the youth’s toes over his white sport socks, and another was holding in his silicone gloved hand a forensic evidence bag with a small amount of weed in it. We walked past them and a third police officer volunteered – with a smile – some community relations nicety to us, as we continued our journey without making any fuss.

There it was in a nut shell, the sign of the changing times. Much talk was made on this night about what would Olive Morris would be doing nowadays, were she still alive. For sure she would have something to say.

The Morris family

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On a tip from Liz Obi, I managed to track down Ms Yana Morris, Olive’s sister who works as a head teacher in South London. I made contact with her and sent her information about the project and this weblog. A few days later I received an email from Ms Jennifer Lewis, another of Olive’s sisters:

Dear Ana Laura,

My name is Jennifer and I am Olives other sister, I was pleased to hear of your intentions from Yana. Funnily enough my daughter Tamara had a similar idea some time ago and did try to contact Liz but to no avail. Unfortunately I will not be able to attend the launch in the Minet library however my daughter will attend and I would be happy to contribute in any way I can.

At some stage our mother was actually asked to put some history of Olive’s life on paper, these we found when she passed away and perhaps these would be of use to you in your research?

It is a wonderful discovery to know there is an account of Olive’s story written by her own mother, and hopefully with permission of the family, we will be able to publish some of it in this weblog.

Ms Doris Morris was a steward with the TUC, and it would be also interesting to know whether Bill Morris is related to Olive’s family. (In 1991 Bill Morris became the first black General Secretary of a TUC affiliated union, the TGWU – Transport and General Workers’ Union.)

Errol Morris – Olive’s younger brother posted this tribute as a comment in the Contribute page:

As Olive’s younger brother, she was a key figure in our family setup.

For me she was an advisor as well as a sister with all kinds of problems I had in my life at that time. It was only when she died did I find out about all of her achievements which made me and the family proud. I do remember when I was young, my mum talking to my dad about Olive being arrested “again” for some demo only to be released without being charged, yet again, which made me feel stronger about fighting injustice throughout my life.

She was one of my role models and a good role model to women and all black people living in the UK. If young people knew Olives story, they would find it very interesting, sad, funny and entertaining. It took over 2 years to come to terms with olives death, but now i still feel her presence, watching me and when i pass Olive Morris House, Brixton, it reminds me that she made a difference to people, now my whole family try to do the same.

NOW WE ARE ALL WORKING FOR THE PEOPLE, “SHE WAS A PEOPLE’S PERSON”

ERROL MORRIS
TRAINER/ASSESSOR
LEARNING MENTOR

Liz Obi

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While I was liaising with Lambeth Archives over the publicity for the weblog launch, the name and contact of Liz Obi was given to me.

Tim O’Dell and Jon Newman had been in touch with her to source some images for the BHM programme. After a few emails and phone calls, I met Liz for coffee at Brixton Market. On that morning I learned more about Olive Morris than in a whole year of poking and probing archives and the Internet. Liz had been a close friend of Olive at one time. Together they squatted 121 Railton Road, and in 1972 they hitch hiked their way to North Africa in search of a Black Panther in exile.

After questioning me and listening at my story and my reasons for wanting to do this project, Liz agreed to help me. I invited her to speak at the web launch, and she kindly offered also to bring some of the exhibition materials to arrange a display on the day.

Liz invited me to her house to see the materials she had. When she organised the exhibition at Brixton Library in 2000, Liz added to her personal archive, photocopies of items found in libraries and archives. Having lived through those years, Liz knew what and where to look for information. She also contacted Mike McColgan, a long-term friend of Olive. Mike had in his possession many documents belonging to Olive, including school notebooks and college essays, correspondence with several community organisations, albums of personal pictures, and even notes of condolence received after Olive’s death. He gave all this material to Liz, to complement the materials she had already gathered for the exhibition.

For my visit, Liz had taken all the documents out of storage, and even pinned up several items on the exhibition boards. She had prepared also a selection of books that were influential to her and Olive in the 70s (see reading list). Liz talked me through the items I was picking up at random, answering my questions and adding her personal comments and stories. I was like a kid in a toy shop, and Liz had more or less to throw me out of her house. I could have stayed there all day going through this amazing collection. I left with a handful of borrowed pictures and documents to scan, now published on this website, including Olive’s passport. This was was specially moving for me, to have her passport in my house, it made me feel as if I myself had been a friend of Olive.

Of the many things that Liz had to say about Olive, there were two that stood out for me. The first was Liz description of Olive, and how she always visualised her whenever she thought of her: silver bangles on her arms and forever riding her bike. The second had to do with what Liz had learned from Olive: never to be afraid of anything.

The starting point

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I came to live in London in 1995 and settled in Brixton, where I still live. Like many Lambeth Residents, I have had my fair share of waiting time at Olive Morris House. I never thought much about the building’s name. In fact, in the back of my mind there was an unformed idea that the building was named after a man: Oliver Morris, perhaps a English gentleman of political or philanthropic leanings.

In August 2006, I was in Peckham Library doing some research about the history of Black activism in the UK. I was looking for images of people holding placards, when I came across a picture that stopped me in my tracks. It was a small black and white photograph, printed towards the back of The Windrush Legacy: Memories of Britain’s Post-War Caribbean Immigrants, a book published by The Black Cultural Archives in 1998. In the picture there was a young woman with a short afro and and her mouth open in a defiant gesture. She had the physical built of a teenager, and looked almost like a boy. She was holding a placard that read: BLACK SUFFERER FIGHT PIG POLICE BRUTALITY. She held a fag between her fingers and she was barefoot.

© Neil Kenlock, Image reproduced with permission of the author.

The caption said that the picture had been taken at a Black Panther Movement demonstration in Coldharbour Lane, but there were no further references to Olive Morris in the book, apart from a dedication on the last page to her contributions to the Black struggle – from which I learned she had passed away.

I was startled. Could this be the same person that Lambeth Housing Services building was named after? I was puzzled and exited about the idea that a Council building had been given the name of a woman that – if one was to judge for the image – had been involved in radical activism within the Borough.

But who was this woman? I asked my friend Hurvin Anderson, who was working with me on the research, if he knew her. He told me that the name was familiar and he thought she was an activist that had died very young. He asked a friend who had been active with the Brixton Black Panthers Movement, and he confirmed that Olive had been a Black Panther herself, and was known for her fearlessness in confronting police abuse.

A Council building named after a female Black Panther. It seemed to defy belief in this age of non-confrontational politics. I wanted to know more. I searched and scoured the Internet for more information, but nothing came up. I found a brief comment in a forum for squatters that mentioned Olive Morris and Liz Turnbull as the first successful squatters of private property in Lambeth. A Council building named after a female Black Panther and squatter. A building dedicated to Housing Services.

I visited Olive Morris House, and saw the dedication plaque, under a framed picture of Olive smiling. The plaque mentioned her as the founder of Brixton Black Women’s Group, and from her date of birth and death (1952-1979) I understood that I was in the presence of a remarkable historical figure, who in the span of her short life had managed to make an impressive contribution in many fronts.

The research that brought Olive Morris to my attention was for a participatory arts project that went on to win a Archives Landmark Award from the London Metropolitan Archives. One of the prizes was the opportunity to use an actress or actor to perform a character of the period researched. I asked for an actress to perform Olive Morris to a live audience. I envisioned the actress in a Brixton street, barefoot and telling the audience the amazing story of her life, possibly in October to coincide with Black History Month. I was asked to provide the actress with a biographic script. My request for a street performance was denied on the account that October is a cold month, and ask to arrange for a suitable venue. I approached Brixton Library and the organisers of Black History Month and they were keen to host the performance during BHM 2007.

© Neil Kenlock, Image reproduced with permission of the author.

With all practicalities seemingly resolved, I set out to compile a biography of Olive Morris to give to the actress. Up until now I had presumed there will be plenty of public sources of information about Olive Morris. Records in archives, libraries, perhaps even a book or two written about her. The Black Cultural Archives had their archives in storage waiting for a new home. Lambeth Archives and Brixton Library didn’t have anything on file, although they knew of Olive Morris and her importance. The Women’s Library had some papers related to her but uncatalogued, and as such inaccessible. Nothing on the Internet, nothing on file.

And so is it that I set out on my search for Olive Morris. This weblog came about as the first step towards the performance I still want to put together, hopefully sometime in the near future. The blog was set up to keep a record of the search for Olive Morris, and in the different sections you will be able to find out more about what has been found so far. Hopefully, this blog will also grow up to be a reliable public repository dedicated to Olive Morris, enlarged and enriched with the stories and memories of all the people that had the privilege of knowing her.

Lambeth Archives had supported the creation of this blog in several ways, including putting me in touch with Liz Obi. Liz was a close friend of Olive, and in 2000 she organised an exhibition at Brixton Library entitled Rembering Olive. When I met Liz, the door that I had been searching for during a long year, suddenly opened wide. Liz has kindly shared with me many stories painting a vivid portrait of Olive’s character and of Brixton life in the 70s. She has furnished me with dates and facts, and showed me her personal archive of documents and photographs of Olive. We are now collaborating to bring these information out into the public domain. Many thanks to her and to all those who have kept Olive’s memory alive for the benefit of the rest of us. I have been enlightened and moved.

Ana Laura Lopez de la Torre. September 2007