Curio Cabinet

These books may contain harmful material—literally. In the 1800s, it was apparently all the rage to use a toxic pigment to color book covers, and some of these poisonous publications might be hiding in plain sight. The color to look out for is emerald green, a vibrant hue that evokes the lighter specimens of its namesake gemstone. It was a popular pigment in the Victorian era not just for books, but also clothes, paintings, and wallpapers. First developed in 1814 by the Wilhelm Dye and White Lead Company in Schweinfurt, Germany, it was also known as “Schweinfurt Green” for the city where it was created. Often paired with gilded detailing, the book bindings created with the pigment look stunning, but they also pose a health risk because of its main ingredient: arsenic. The veritably verdant green pigment was created by mixing together copper acetate with arsenic trioxide.
 
People knew arsenic was dangerous even back then, but they also weren’t shy about using arsenic and other toxic substances in the pursuit of aesthetics. While it is a legitimate concern for collectors of antique books, there is a way to tell if a given book is dangerous or not. After all, not all green books from the Victorian era contain emerald green or other toxic pigments. One way to tell if a book contains arsenic is to use X-ray fluorescence (XRF) spectroscopy, which can identify the chemical composition of a bookcloth cover. For those who don’t have high-end laboratory equipment sitting around at home, The Poison Book Project at the Winterthur Museum, Garden, and Library offers handy-dandy bookmarks with a color swatch that can be used to compare colors, and pictures abound on the internet of the notorious emerald green pigment. Even if a book is green and from the right time period, if the colors don’t match, it’s probably safe. Even if there’s no test available, there’s no reason to panic. The arsenic didn’t always cause noticeable problems, though an excess amount of arsenic in the pigments have caused skin lesions, burns, and blisters in people who’ve handled them in some cases. So, there’s no reason to burn these books…but they may burn you.

 
[Image description: Old books lined up on a shelf.] Credit & copyright: Suzy Hazelwood, Pexels. This photo is not associated with the Poison Book Project in any way.

This writer-turned-activist didn’t let anything keep her down. A recent Google Doodle by artist Sienna Gonzales featured activist Barbara May Cameron holding a Progress Pride flag on what would have been her 69th birthday. The commemorative image was made with input from Cameron’s partner of 21 years, Linda Boyd-Durkee, as a tribute to her life and legacy as the first nationally-known Native American activist who advocated for LGBTQIA+ rights, Native American rights, and women’s rights.
 
Born in 1954 in Fort Yates, North Dakota, Cameron was part of the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe. Her name in Lakota, Wia Washte Wi, meant, “woman, good woman.” After attending American Indian Art Institute, Cameron moved to San Francisco, and became involved in the area’s thriving LGBTQIA+ community. In 1975, Cameron, along with Randy Burns, co-founded the Gay American Indians (GAI). The first of its kind, the GAI was an organization dedicated to queer Native Americans specifically, and Cameron advocated for greater acceptance of LGBTQIA+ people within Native American communities. As a queer indigenous writer, she helped shed light into the unique challenges faced by her people through her writing. Her essays and poems were published in several landmark anthologies, including A Gathering of Spirit: A Collection of Writing and Art by North American Indian Women in 1983 and Our Right to Love: A Lesbian Resource Book in 1996. Her works highlighted issues that were rarely touched upon even by other LGBTQIA+ writers of the time, like how Native Americans and other people of color were disproportionately affected by the AIDS crisis.
 
During the crisis, Cameron was active in the San Francisco AIDS Foundation and the American Indian AIDS Institute, providing help to those in need, especially those who couldn’t afford medical care. She also served as a consultant to the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services and the Centers for Disease Control, which sought to educate the public about the disease. At the time, AIDS was considered a taboo topic and many in the government were unwilling to speak about it. As part of her work as a consultant, Cameron also contributed to childhood immunization programs, working to get kids in rural communities vaccinated.
 
Between 1980 and 1985, Cameron did some of her best-remembered work, such as helping to organize the Lesbian Gay Freedom Day Parade and Celebration, now known as San Francisco Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Pride Celebration, the largest event of its kind in the U.S. A few years later in 1988, she was appointed by the mayor to the Citizens Committee on Community Development and the San Francisco Human Rights Commission. Later, she was also appointed to the United Nations Commission on the Status of Women.
 
For her contributions to San Francisco, Cameron was honored with the Harvey Milk Award for Community Service in 1992 and the first Bay Area Career Women Community Service Award the following year. But she also took her activism on behalf of LGBTQIA+ people to a broader stage beyond San Francisco, when she successfully co-led a lawsuit against the Immigration & Naturalization Service. The lawsuit addressed the agency’s discriminatory policy of turning away gay immigrants, who were not yet considered a protected class under federal law. The suit went all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court, which ruled in the plaintiffs’ favor.
 
Today, Cameron is remembered as one of the most influential figures in the history of LGBTQIA+ activism. In San Francisco, where she was most active, she was one of the loudest voices speaking on behalf of communities who were often overlooked or discriminated against. Her work helped create modern San Francisco’s thriving, no-longer-underground LGBTQIA+ community. That’s certainly something to take pride in.

 
[Image description: A pride flag blowing in the wind.] Credit & copyright: Markus Spiske, Pexels