Tattoos are a manifestation of our identities; they represent our passions, life events, and communities. Librarians are trusted knowledge keepers and community experts; they connect us to information and to each other. And the rising sub-culture of tattooed librarians thrives in Galveston threatening to create connections among us, weave stories into our community, and bring a pestilence of literacy to all. Do tattoos on our librarians create confusion? Curiosity? Fear? How

I once thought it a fine act of marksmanship to fire a round down an empty bullet casing at close range. Don’t judge. I was drunk. I was rewarded with a spray of lead and powder to the face that was most embarrassing. I was able to dig the big chunk of lead out of my nose with a knife, and the shooting glasses saved my eyes. But I still have “gunpowder spots”. The name “gunpowder spots” is derived from the sailors’ practice of making shipboard tattoos with gunpowder, instead

I am in TDCJ, arguably the harshest prison system in the United States. Tattooing is most definitely against the rules here, but it is an everyday thing in every unit in every state in the country and probably the world. We work under the risk of getting caught and subsequent discipline measures such as loss of privileges, solitary confinement, parole denials, and more. Why do we do it then? Why risk tattooing or getting tattooed? For the same reason that people do the same t

My name is Adam Garrison, I’m a local artist born and raised here in Galveston Texas. I’ve always loved art of all kinds and the many diverse ways in which it can be applied. I enjoy learning about the materials used and admiring the final outcome of someone’s creativity. I started getting tattooed at the age of 18 and haven’t stopped wanting to be tattooed since. I love everything about getting a tattoo, although everyone would agree that pain is typically the only downside

“When you do a bad tattoo, people hate you for the rest of your life,” said Mel Black, a musician and tattoo artist working out of Flying Squid Ink in Houston. “But you know what? Bread and butter: fixing bad tattoos. All day. I could have an entire portfolio of just reworks and cover-ups. People don’t like spending money and so they get cheap shit they think is good and then one day they’re like ‘Oh shit, I have this garbage on my arm that’s representing me? I’m not a garba

Director of Student Ministries for Galveston Urban Ministries I moved to Texas in 8th grade as an african american kid in a mostly white neighborhood. Early on I learned how to carry myself in a way that was “culturally appropriate,” which meant not being “too black”. I would slick back my hair with way too much gel and do my best to speak as politely as I could. Everyone seemed to accept me and would comment on how well I carried myself, usually with a hint of surprise. B

Not one, but two civil rights movements flourished in mid-twentieth century Texas, and they did so in intimate conversation with one another. Both Afircan Texans and Mexican Americans fought for their civil and political rights throughout the nineteenth and twentieth centuries right into the twenty-first happening now. While most research on American race relations has utilized a binary analytical lens—examining either "black" vs. "white" or "Anglo" vs. "Mexican"—the Civil Ri

A few weeks ago, hanging out at Hey Mikey’s ice cream parlor down on Postoffice, crowd-watching while occasionally making sure to dam the butter-pecan stream making its way down my sugar cone, I was struck by something I had always seen but never noticed. You know the routine, the one where you stand in line with bated breath waiting your turn to find out what’s down there in the freezer – the 20 or so colorful flavors with names running the gamut from the basic Vanilla to th

With March being Women’s History Month, it seems only fitting to preface our work towards racial equity in education by looking back on Black Women in Galveston’s history who laid the foundation for the future we know is possible. It is these women who in many ways give us permission to believe in something, and mean it. Izola Ethel Fedford Collins writes of many of these women in her book Island of Color: Where Juneteenth Started. Izola writes of Clara E. Scull, one of the f

Gregory Wilson is a long time Galvestonian who’s working at the heart of what he sees as one of the biggest issues facing his community: MENTORSHIP. A founding member of Ironman, a community-focused group offering father-figure guidance for children in Black communities through Turning Point Church, Wilson was able to draw upon his own struggles growing up in Galveston to become a focal point of the kind of change he wants to see in the city. Wilson took time to speak to Cult

Galveston was touted as the Ellis Island of the South, but can it be characterized as such today? Some BOIs say Hurricane Ike was the dividing point, or when our island’s community changed. After Ike devastated Galveston in September 2008, three public housing units on the north side of Broadway and west of 25th Street, where mostly black residents lived, were flooded and subsequently demolished. The rebuilding of the public housing projects was met with fierce (and racist) o

RACE, a four letter word that has so much power and depth. In this new decade, 2020, who would have thought that the color of one’s skin, one’s name, one’s religion, or one’s race would still effect how one is treated! Unfortunately, that is still the case. Despite living in a country where equality, justice, and freedom are the foundation of our constitution and government, people are being disrespected each day. It seems as though the ethos of humanity has been forgotten.

Eating out of the garden is the simplest form of culinary delight. The students participating in The Young Gardeners Program in local Galveston Independent School District (GISD) schools are reaping the rewards of their school garden harvests. The Young Gardeners Program (YGP) is a project of Galveston’s Own Farmers Market and the brain child of Nan Wilson, the Program Director. Wilson moved to Galveston Island to be with her family in 2015. An astounding number of children

I walked down the main hall of the Estelle unit here in Huntsville with my stomach grumbling. It's impossible to get used to any certain time to eat here because each day's schedule is different depending on who is working that particular shift and how they are feeling that day. Breakfast is usually between 1-3 am, lunch's any time between 8:30 a.m. to noon, and dinner can be from 4-8:30 pm. We wait. That's all we can do if we want to eat the food provided for us at the priso

Food is life. No matter where you go, the universal sign of compassion and unity will be food. In every culture, society, group, and country, food will always be one basic yet effective way to understand each other. Food and its meaning can change but still have the same effect no matter where you live or travel. Food can have heart, or it can be soulless, the only deciding factor is how you perceive the value in your life. My family, being from India, has s

From a young age, I have never been in touch with my “culture” and often wondered if I even had a distinct one. My family was never one to sit down at a dinner table and talk about our days in great detail. Instead, we ate while watching TV shows or movies. You will find me eating dinner in my room merely because I have so much homework. The primary reason for my family not eating together is because of our schedules and the lack of time in our schedules to be present with ea

In all my years of experience as a diehard foodie and culinary thrillseeker, Galveston takes the cake for the greatest taste experiences I’ve ever had. It’s a city teeming with personality, fun, and flavor that will keep visitors coming back again and again while making the locals feel like the luckiest bunch in Texas. And if you’re looking for the perfect places to eat, you’ll find everything you’ve ever wanted and a million times more behind the restaurant doors of Galvesto

I am so excited for school today. Today they are serving pizza for lunch. I spent most of my morning fantasizing about delicious, melted cheese topped with crispy pepperoni. Today we are learning about the radius and diameter of circles in math. I could only think about the crispy pepperoni, in the shape of a circle, that I would see in a few hours. Last week, in Health, we learned about meal proportions. I never knew dinner was supposed to be an abstract plate consisting of

Let me start by saying this: I love ramen. Translated directly from Japanese as “pulled noodles,” strict traditionalists use chinese wheat noodles served in a meat or fish-based broth, boiled until the texture gives delightful chew. This can then be flavored with miso or soy sauce. Nearly every region in Japan has their own take on the delicacy, their recipe often closely guarded. The resulting soup is equal parts savory and filling; done right, it soothes and comforts in a w

Growing up I often felt like the odd man out, when I would bring my lunch to school which consisted of pickled oddities, lutefisk, and some version of rice and beans every day. A strange concoction of different foods to say the least, so different from my classmates lunches of PB&J, fruit snacks, and a juice pouch. It created a longing within me from a young age to fall into the very westernized style of eating. Growing up, my personal cuisine stemmed from my mother's very ri