Often seen at community protests, government meetings and local chapters of advocacy organizations is one married couple united in their passion for activism: Art and Camille Taylor.
After a lifelong history of standing up for others [and standing up together at their 1994 wedding], the Taylors were recognized last month as History Makers by the McLean County Museum of History.
Art said having Camille by his side only increased his reach into other organizations around Bloomington-Normal, such as when he joined the local chapter of Not in Our Town.
“…through her relationships, not only in Unit 5, but other things that she was doing in the community, like [the McLean County] League of Women Voters. Not in Our Town was one of those examples,” Art said. “Because of her activity and her involvement in it, I kind of gravitated towards some of their activities and some of their passionate things that they were doing.”
For Camille’s turn, she noted her marriage to Art drew her to many rallies and forums over the years.
One time concerned Camille’s negotiation with Unit 5 when she was president of the teacher’s union. She remembered the union was getting flak from different groups while agreeing to a contract.
“Arthur was concerned for my safety, so he came to school. It was supposed to be for members only, but he came and there was glass windows outside the cafeteria, and he just stood there glaring at people inside the cafeteria,” she said.
“So, I think he was sending a message like, ‘Don’t mess with my wife.’”
Art described their time together as a kind of “ying and yang” mix of their passions.
Activism in their youths
Art and Camille in second grade at St. Anselm’s Catholic School on Chicago's South Side. They dated in high school but eventually broke up and enrolled at different colleges.
They each practiced their own activism before their reconnection decades later.
Camille, who recalled her advocacy streak perhaps first started as a Girl Scout, enrolled at Illinois State University and became a teacher. In 1975, while living in Cardinal Court, Camille was named to the ISU Child Care Advisory Board.
“I was the only parent on the board. The rest were faculty and some community members and they were talking about fee increases for the students,” Camille said. “We…paid $89 a month for rent, and we could barely afford that. And so a fee increase for childcare was going to be really tough.”
Camille’s son attended the university childcare program in Turner Hall.
“And I just opened my mouth and I said, ‘If you do this, I don’t think my child can attend childcare, which means I don’t know if I can be on this board.'”
While the increase was only about 50 cents an hour, Camille said she told the board it was not a modest one, as they believed. She said it taught her a lesson of how important it is to have a seat at the decision table.
Camille also spoke about even earlier life as a Black girl growing up in segregated Chicago. She said it was not until she went to high school she saw integration in the school system.
“I took three busses and an L [train] to school and three busses and an L back home,” she said. “It took me over an hour, both ways, with transfers, to get there.”
In a school that was still predominantly white, Camille said that is where she first saw the value in using her voice. Her high school days came during the Vietnam War, the assassinations of Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert Kennedy and a turbulent time in America.
“I was friendly with everyone, because my mom told me to treat other people the way you want to be treated,” she said. “So, I didn’t segregate myself when I got to an integrated high school, because the cafeteria was still very segregated.”
Camille let her social butterfly instincts take over and talked to anyone, ate lunch with anyone. She said she made friends with different groups of people who were not afraid of her Blackness.
“…even though I had my armband around my uniform, just like the other people in the Black Student Union, I got invited to white students’ homes, which was a first for several of them,” said Camille. “When I got there, and their parents saw me, they were like, ‘Oh, my god, you’ve got a Black friend.’ But I learned that you have to step out of your comfort zone and you also learned you have to be at the table.”
Art recalled his time as a college student was the dawn of his activism, also during the 1970s. He saw a rise in activism on his campus, on Lambeth College, near the end of the Vietnam War.
“Title IX was becoming something that was in the public space, and I was involved on my campus…to help implement Title IX to equalize facilities and activities,” Art said.
“We had lots of rules that separated the men and the women on campus. For example, dorm hours and athletic activities, and involvement in certain organizations and whatnot that needed to be corrected.”
Art was part of a group of students working to make their voices heard on a campus of a private, Methodist university which had not previously considered the stories of African American students.
“So, my activism has been both participatory as well as in some leadership opportunities, because I was not afraid to use my voice and my position to make my voice heard and to bring about that change…” he said.
'Boy, we’re old'
When the History Makers were announced, Camille said the honor had made her think, “Boy, we’re old,” as it reminded her of her extensive history of advocacy.
“It’s like, how did we get to this age? I don’t remember getting to this age. As you live your life, you just do what you do every year. You go to meetings; you go to work,” she said.
Art said, “We looked at a photograph…it’s a family photograph with me and in a cap and gown in eighth grade graduation. And I was looking at the photograph, and it dawned on me that I was the age of one of my grandchildren right now.”
Art said the idea gave him pause to recall all the stages of life he has gone through.
For Art’s later history of community involvement, time spent in as the chair of the Public Safety and Community Relations Board and as an elder at First Christian Church, picking a favorite is not easy. But his favorite method between the organizations is his opportunity to facilitate dialog.
“When I was a retail manager and even at State Farm as a diversity director, all of that has been geared toward bringing people together to listen to each other and to listen to the different perspectives that people have — not only from their own experiences but from their life, their work experiences, their careers, their family,” he said.
All his efforts, Art said, centered back to helping everyone have a seat at a decision table for those who wanted it, and, at the end of the day, his age has only helped him get better at it.
“Because of your vintage and your experience," he said. "people know that you’ve been involved in activism for a very long time, they tend to request and expect that level of expertise to help with the organization of what’s going on with activism that’s going on now."
At the same time, he said it is also what was expected of him as a veteran in advocacy.
Art recalled one time when he was a kid and his aunt dropped him off on a Chicago street corner with a sign and told him to protest. He was 12 years old.
“At 12, I was a follower. At 72, I’m not a follower anymore, so I’m one of the people that helps organize or participate in whatever situation is going on,” he said. “When you’re at the age that we are, that’s kind of been expected, and that’s kind of the way we function in this world today.”
The Taylors, along with the other honorees, will be recognized formally at the museum’s June 17 gala as McLean County History Makers.
