Each February, via Black History Month,  our nation has the opportunity and privilege to reflect on the legacy of Black Americans. From Google Doodles to corporate banks to federal proclamations, reaching far beyond slavery, observing Black History Month allows us to celebrate the substantial contributions that African Americans have made to The United States of America’s history, culture, vibrancy, and soul. This month is not merely a quick retrospective glance at the past; it is an intentional celebration of  Black resilience, innovation, and cultural richness that continues to shape our nation (and world). 

Black history is American history, but how we tell this story is often incomplete. When discussing Black history, many immediately gravitate to leaders of the Civil Rights Movement like MLK Jr. or Rosa Parks. They also may uplift the stories of inventors such as George Washington Carver and Garret Morgan, who invented the traffic light. Some may be able to name immediately Black thought leaders and scholars, including Booker T. Washington and contemporary examples such as Dr. Cornel West and Dr. Henry Louis Gates Jr. 

One scholar’s name that is undoubtedly a part of Black History and public memory is W.E.B. Du Bois. Being Harvard’s first Black recipient of a Ph.D. in 1895, DuBois pioneered education, race relations, and Black scholarship. However, as evidenced in this study published in 1912,  he did not work alone. In the early 1900s, DuBois had a mentee, Augustus Granville Dill, with whom he worked and researched.

Augustus Granville Dill has been lost to history because he was fired by DuBois and erased after he was arrested for a homosexual encounter in New York City in the early 20th century.

Who was Augustus Granville Dill?

Born in Portsmouth, Ohio, in 1881, Dill came of age toward the beginning of Jim Crow, but racism alone did not stop his educational endeavors and success. However, homophobia from an educated and brilliant Black man did.

After graduating from Atlanta University with a B.A. in 1906, Dill earned a second B.A. at Harvard University in 1908. Like DuBois, this was incredibly rare at the time, even at the undergraduate level as most Black students were enrolled at HBCUs. Dill was one of a handful of Black students at Harvard, and reports vary on whether his Masters Degree is from  Harvard or Atlanta University. 

However, there is absolutely no debate about his connection to and work with DuBois. These letters show direct correspondence between the two. Here is a receipt of payment from DuBois to Dill. Together, they published a series of groundbreaking studies known as “The Atlanta Studies.” Comprised of four studies-The College-Bred Negro (1910), The Common School and the Negro (1911), The Negro American Artisan (1912), and Morals and Manners Among Negro Americans (1914), together, these works documented the difficulties that African Americans faced under Jim Crow, particularly highlighting inequalities in education and lack of economic opportunity. At the same time, heavily following DuBois’s idea of The Talented Tenth, the Atlanta Studies also insisted that there was a small but active Black bourgeois (upper class) in Atlanta that highlighted the power and promise of Black prosperity, rights, and citizenship. 

After impacting Atlanta, Dill moved to New York City in 1913. While there, he served as manager and assistant of The Crisis, the official publication of the NAACP. New York provided Dill with abundant opportunities, but it is also where his scholarship and career with the NAACP and DuBois ended. 

What happened in NYC?

As briefly mentioned in the book A Queer History of the United States by Michael Bronski and Gay New York by George Chauncey, Dill’s legacy and how he was fired has been purposely hidden. One likely must have access to archives or deep experience in research to dig up his story. An example of a publicly accessible archive can be found through Umbra Search, an African American archive housed at the University of Minnesota.

From most accounts, in 1927, New York City’s vice commission focused on gay clubs that promoted “specialized types of degeneracy and perversion.”  Essentially, any type of gay intercourse could and would be policed. A quick Google search of Dill’s story would yield dozens of results highlighting this injustice. From OutHistory to the University of Kentucky’s Archive to peer-reviewed scholarship, it is highly accepted that Dill was fired in 1928 after he was arrested for engaging in homosexual intercourse in a restroom. Some accounts say it was a sting operation, a common tactic at the time to police sexuality. This arrest and termination occurred after over 15+ years of partnership and collaboration with DuBois. In his autobiography, DuBois lamented his decision, as he quipped

In the midst of my career there burst on me a new and undreamed of aspect of sex. A young man, long my disciple and student, then my co-helper and successor to part of my work, was suddenly arrested for molesting men in public places. I had before that time no conception of homosexuality. I had never understood the tragedy of an Oscar Wilde. I dismissed my co-worker forthwith, and spent heavy days regretting my act. - W.E.B. Du Bois

Of note,  “molest” does not have the same context here; there is no evidence to indicate this encounter was not consensual. “Molest” was the word used to describe two men engaging sexually at the time. While DuBois expresses remorse here, this sentiment was not reflected then. In fact, Dill remained in NYC but made a living as a musician and took his last breaths in Kentucky. 

DuBois seemed to silence homosexuality consistently or, at the very least, desire to shift the narrative. For example, in the wedding of the century featuring over 3,000 guests, DuBois gladly gave his daughter’s hand in marriage to Countee Cullen (see wedding pic here and see Cullen’s party here). This letter highlights DuBois’s reception plans. The marriage was short-lived, lasting only two years before ending in a divorce- a feat that was extremely rare at the time.

The divorce could have been because it was widely known that Cullen was bisexual (possibly, gay), especially for others involved in the Harlem Renaissance. Yolande DuBois’s wedding and Dill were fired in the same year - 1928.

Why does Augustus Granville Dill’s story matter now?

Even when there has been passion and fervor for honoring the NAACP and Black scholars and authors, Dill’s name is still rarely uttered. For example,  his name does not appear on the historical plaque documenting the NAACP’s building as historic in New York City. This is true despite him leading the publication for over 10+ years. Outside of public memory and plaques, Dill’s story and the loss of his work have undoubtedly had immense tangible impacts on Black culture, society, and history. 

1. The Crisis & The Brownie Book 

The Crisis served as a resounding voice of education and resistance for Black Americans in the early 20th century. In the first issue, DuBois stated that the goal was to "set forth those facts and arguments which show the danger of race prejudice. “ Dill helped bring the publication to life and kept it afloat. The publication had an unapologetic stance on Civil Rights and galvanized public opinion and fostered a sense of collective identity and purpose among African Americans. The Crisis was the vehicle for critical information, laying the groundwork for activism and advocacy later. It was for Black people,  by Black people.

Simultaneously, The Brownie Book emerged to help Black youth develop a sense of racial pride in a highly racist world. A radical counter-narrative at the time as Black children were often seen as unruly, violent, and void of humanity. Yet, Dill’s work with the Brownie Book affirmed Black children’s beauty, intelligence, and potential, nurturing their minds with stories, histories, and images celebrating their identity. A new and reimagined Brownie Book was relaunched in 2023. 

2. Black Queer Struggles: The Lack of Intersectionality from the Beginning

Pop culture advancements have allowed us to get more insight into lost queer icons like Bayard Rustin, but stories like Dill remain hidden. It is a somber reminder that for many Black queer people, they frequently must hide their sexuality if they want to be involved in a movement. And/or, once their sexuality is discovered- their work and legacy are erased.

Thus, revisiting and honoring Dill's legacy becomes an act of resistance against the erasure of Black queer voices from historical narratives. By bringing Dill's story and achievements back into the spotlight, we can reframe some history and understand the presence and impact of Black queer individuals. Dill did not receive many flowers in 1928, but we certainly can uplift his story nearly 100 years later. This enriches our understanding of the past and provides inspiration and validation for present and future generations. 

Imagine if Dill was able to mentor other Black males; even if they were not homosexual, mentorship and guidance from Dill would have been incredibly fruitful for the individual and community. Black men flourishing in education was, and still is, an act of resistance and evidence of Black perseverance. Losing Dill likely had a compounding effect, considering he was among the few Harvard-educated Black males at the time, and education was highly regarded and sought after. 

3. The Past is The Present: His research on Blackness rings true now. 

Most notably and sadly, the key takeaways from Dill and DuBois’s work can still ring true today. What if he was able to keep researching and advancing these ideas?

For example, outside of the Atlanta Studies, Dill delved deep into race relations and labor unions. In his study, “The Negro and Organized Labor,” Dill and colleagues found Black laborers faced limited access to union membership and the subsequent benefits and protections that unions typically provide. The past is the present. Teamster International just settled a $2.9 million lawsuit and trade unions across the country are notoriously exclusionary. 

Next, as briefly discussed, The Atlanta Studies outlined how Black Americans were facing inequalities in education and economic advancement. For instance, Dill explicitly writes about the purposeful disfranchisement and lack of resources for negro public schools, noting that the government does not hear the pleas for help. 

 He writes, “Since 1890, five and a half Negroes, have been deprived of a voice in all government.” He continues, “There is a distinct endeavor to curtail the facilities of education which Negroes already possess,” and “ there has been a continuance to curtail Negro education by reducing the number of public schools.” 

The political suppression of Black voters and the closures of predominantly Black schools are still happening. 

Dill was fired in 1928. Ironically, this was around the same time that the Harlem Renaissance took off. Dill’s forced departure occurred at a critical time where Black people, especially Black queer people, could flourish and thrive. The Renaissance became the epicenter of African American intellectual and cultural life, raising profound questions. 

One of the most important is forcing the question of “what could have been if Dill weren’t fired?” 

** A HUGE and Special Thank you to Tina  Dent and others at Emerson College’s Iwasaki Library. Without their expertise and guidance, locating primary sources and historical documents would have been impossible. Please support your librarians and local libraries; they are the foundation for knowledge. **