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The NBGN Blog offers brief articles, essays, poetry, artwork and reflections related to Black Studies and written by graduate students in our network. Blog posts are public, only members can comment on posts.

Reflecting on Antoinette ‘Bonnie’ Candia-Bailey: Insights from Her Life and Legacy


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Breaking Silos, Building Community And Navigating Mental Health Together

By marcus singleton

I am tired of seeing my colleagues being torn limb from limb both emotionally and professionally. These Black leaders are people first. They have gifts and talents. They have to make hard decisions just like you do and sometimes they make huge mistakes. They are not your tokens, and they deserve an opportunity to lead. They deserve the same grace you give our non-Black colleagues —Jaelyn Scott, 2024

In the tradition of dedicated Black leaders who advocate for Black students while assisting them in navigating academic institutions, it is unfortunate that these same Black leaders need advocates for themselves in the universities they serve or teach in. Antoinette “Bonnie” Candia-Bailey, a Chicago native, was indeed an example of such a servant-leader at Lincoln University (an HBCU); a proud alumna of the institution who had been serving Black students as the vice president for student affairs since May 2023. Candia-Bailey had been working in higher education for 23 years, had a PhD in leadership studies, extensive experience in student affairs, and a strong reputation as an advocate for social justice (Lincoln University, 2023).

On Wednesday, January 3, 2024, as many were still celebrating the New Year, Candia-Bailey received a termination letter from John B. Moseley, president of Lincoln University. In the termination letter Moseley criticised Candia-Bailey for poor work performance and failure to follow instructions (Weissman, 2024). Four days later, on Monday, January 8, 2024, Candia-Bailey sent a powerfully written letter to Moseley, lamenting and detailing months of bullying and harassment she had received under his supervision. She also detailed the countless hours she worked and how much more strenuous the work had become due to what she described as Moseley’s ineffective leadership and toxic behaviour toward her. Candia-Bailey’s email was ten pages long, providing nearly 6,000 words exposing the actions of Moseley and holding him accountable for “a litany of actions that exacerbated her existing mental health condition” (Edgell, 2024). It is clear to many that Candia-Bailey’s experience was profoundly shaped by the long recognized antiblackness, misogynoir, and white supremacy of academia (Asare, 2024Edgell, 2024Graham, 2024), reminding us that this is institutional oppression from which those at HBCUs are not spared (Hollis, 2024).

It was courageous of Candia-Bailey to be transparent and vulnerable enough to speak to Moseley about her mental health issues and to seek support and accommodations through the channels available to her (Turman, 2024Weissman, 2024), only for her concerns to be dismissed and her well-being to be disregarded. Instead of receiving support from her employers, Candia-Bailey was fired from her job and told she must vacate her campus apartment or be removed by police (Hollis, 2024Weissman, 2024). Candia-Bailey must have felt like there was nowhere and no one left to turn to for help, so she used the power of her voice, writing to relieve herself of the weight she was carrying. “Mental health is real” she wrote to Moseley, “…I sincerely shared with you about my illness. I was saddened to learn you shared and joked about my condition” (Martin, 2024, 11:26; emphasis in original). Candia-Bailey sent her letter to Mosley in an email copied to her friends, family, and fellow Lincoln alumni, who have helped her story travel far beyond the boundaries of Lincoln University, penetrating the hearts of many Black scholars and students. Sadly, Candia-Bailey released her life into the hands of her ancestors,  choosing to take her own life hours after she sent the email to Moseley.  

The life and death of Candia-Bailey reflect how many of us as Black academics and graduate students are left to fight anti-Black racism and other forms of bullying and harassment on our own, in isolation. Some of us might find ourselves in similar dire positions as Candia-Bailey. because of the interpersonal and institutional bullying we face while trying to stand tall under the pressure to represent Black excellence. Too many of us do so without community or institutional support, and while carrying a deep-seated fear around the cultural and societal stigmas surrounding mental health, leaving us what feels like no other option but to suffer in silence. As NBGN Director rosalind hampton (2021a) reminds us in a blog about Colonial Half-steppin’ in and of the Canadian University

[T]he everyday work of being Black and/or claiming Blackness in the context of the university involves deciding if and how to respond to blatant, overt, and explicit racism, as well as complex and more subtle processes of Black racialization and nuances of anti-Black racism. 

As Black scholars and graduate students, we have to refuse to work in silos and suffer in silence  in the face of academic oppression that leads many to illness and/ or death (Asare, 2024; Hollis, 2024). We know that now more than ever, Black women in particular are being called upon to do the work of promoting “equity, diversity and inclusion” within and on behalf of academic institutions (hampton, 2021b). This work must be especially discouraging and isolating when it involves the expectation to defend institutions that are causing harm and resistant to change. As a Black woman battling depression and anxiety worsened by a toxic workplace, Candia-Bailey was forced to do “equity, diversity, and inclusion work” on behalf of herself as well as others, on top of all the other duties she was responsible for in her job as vice president of student affairs at Lincoln University. 

As Black academics and graduate students, we cannot ignore the damage and harm the institution has enacted and continues to enact upon racialized people—Black women in particular. We must work together with care, and in solidarity, shoulder-to-shoulder to create shared collective spaces that tie us to greater social issues and promote a greater sense of community. This is the everyday work that we are all responsible for doing.

It is unfortunate that Candia-Bailey’s suicide has become another devastating example for us of how important it is for us to organize, resist and find ways to respond to both subtle and overt academic oppression and bullying. We can keep her legacy alive by arming ourselves with her words and story, and by continuing the fight against anti-Black racism, patriarchy and ableism, and for decolonization through the work we do inside and outside academia on both sides of the border.        

Some of you might be thinking, as a Black man, why is marcus writing about Candia-Bailey? Well for one, like Candia-Bailey, I am a Chicagoan, and when I heard about her death and saw her picture it instantly made me think of my mother, grandmother, aunts, cousins, and other Black women who played a major role in my growth and development into the Black man I am today. At a young age, I always saw Black women leading in my community—taking on more than they should, but again, as we know, Black women have always been doing this work. I knew that Malcolm X said, Black women are the most disrespected, unprotected, and neglected person in North America, and they always have to take on the label of being strong (Jones, 2020). However, in taking a graduate seminar on Black feminist life writing, I found I had to come to grips with my own patriarchy and commit to the ongoing work of recognizing and challenging how we are all impacted by dominant power relations and implicated in oppression. I don’t get it right all the time, because this work is always ongoing, but I’m striving to work in equitable collaboration with Black women and continue to learn from Black feminist thought.  Black women have always been and continue to be my teachers. May you dance joyfully with the ancestors and rest in peace, Dr. Antoinette “Bonnie” Candia-Bailey.

Acknowledgments: I would like to extend love, light, and condolences to the Candia-Bailey family during this season of loss. I would also like to extend my gratitude to Professor hampton for her invaluable support in reviewing and refining this blog through thoughtful discussions and editing.

nbgn.contributor

NBGN Contributor


February 5, 2024

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