--- title: A Fresh Start for ‘Maryland’s Shame’ date: 2025-01-15T09:50:00-05:00 author: University of Maryland canonical_url: "https://terp.umd.edu/a-fresh-start-for-marylands-shame" section: Articles --- # A Fresh Start for ‘Maryland’s Shame’ *January 15, 2025* — by [Karen Shih ’09](/authors/karen-shih-09) - *Portrait by Stephanie S. Cordle* > Joi Howard ’03 seeks to turn a shuttered, segregated psychiatric hospital into a working farm and wellness site for the Black community. *Joi Howard poses by brick columns and greenery* **ROSALIA DAWSON**, a respected Baltimore musician, spent her final years locked away from her four children and husband in a segregated psychiatric hospital outside Annapolis. Her family still wonders what led her there. *Rosalia Dawson with her husband Robert and a friend — Rosalia Dawson (top left), with her husband Robert and a friend in an undated photo.* ## ‘The Worst Story Ever Told’ For years, Crownsville Hospital was used as a threat. Parents from Baltimore to Washington, D.C., would tell their children to behave—or the “night doctor” would come and scoop them up. There was truth to it: African Americans had vanished behind Crownsville’s gates, and not just those with mental illnesses or developmental or physical disabilities, but folks who were picked up for petty crime, homelessness or even just walking on the wrong street at night. *hospital staff poses with patients — Hospital staff pose with patients in January 1932. Those with developmental disabilities and mental illnesses and even orphaned children shared living quarters.* > How can we turn this into a hub of healing, led by the Black community? — —Joi Howard ## Steering Toward History Had Joi Howard been born a few generations earlier, she could have ended up at Crownsville. Her life looked successful from the outside. She’d worked for more than a decade in alumni relations and event management after graduating from the University of Maryland with a degree in individual studies, focused on multicultural advertising, and earning a master’s degree from the University of Baltimore. She and her husband were parents of two little girls, and their family had just moved to a community in a great school district in Anne Arundel County. But in 2018, Howard was struggling. Her father had just died of ALS, which plunged her into a depression. At the same time, she was diagnosed with attention deficit/hyperactivity disorder. One day, she was driving along the back roads near her new home, and nestled between youth soccer fields, an Anglican church and some restaurants, a series of dilapidated red-brick buildings came into view. Howard found herself drawn to the site, where a sign read, “Crownsville Hospital Center.” She discovered tangled vines climbing the walls, weeds bursting from balconies, cracked windows hanging ajar and boarded-up doors indicating a property long out of use. “I wanted to dig into, ‘What was going on there? What was it like?’” she says. But she found only a few resources online. “Because of the stigma of mental illness and the fact that people sent away their family members, there was not a lot of incentive for people to tell those stories.” Then she had a breakthrough. Howard started attending “Say My Name” ceremonies created by noted Annapolis historian Janice Hayes-Williams; they recognized patients who had died and been haphazardly buried on hospital grounds. Naturally chatty and inquisitive, Howard eventually connected with former Crownsville workers who shared their tales of trauma. Hearing all this, Howard considered how lucky she was to have so many resources to address her own mental health, not only modern medicine, but yoga, acupuncture and healthy, home-grown foods (she’d started a backyard garden, complete with chickens and worm composting, during the pandemic). But these remained too expensive for Black community members who needed help. The Crownsville site, which was about to be turned over from the state to Anne Arundel County for redevelopment in 2022, could be the key. She didn’t want to see it turned into recreational fields or solar farms—ideas floated by county officials—that wouldn’t honor the history of those who suffered there. Instead, she started pitching the idea of transforming portions of it into a working farm and wellness center, emphasizing the need for spaces and programs to support Black residents. *aerial view of brick buildings — The 500-acre Crownsville Hospital property is largely vacant today, except for small portions used for a food bank and treatment center for substance use disorders.* ## A Toolbox of Mental Health Resources While Black Americans have similar rates of mental illness as the rest of the U.S. population, just one in three Black adults receives the mental health care they need, according to the American Psychiatric Association, either because of lack of insurance or high cost, or a lingering distrust of the medical community. (One of the most famous cases of Black medical exploitation intersects with Crownsville: Henrietta Lacks, whose cancer cells, taken without her or her family’s consent, have been crucial to biomedical research for some 70 years. Lacks’ daughter, Elsie, was sent to Crownsville and died there a few years later, after doctors drilled into her skull repeatedly as part of an epilepsy study.) *instructor leads yoga session — Chevon Wright leads a community yoga session.* *Joi Howard demonstrates vegetable washing — Joi Howard (center) demonstrates vegetable washing at an enBloom community event.* > I want to reclaim the narrative that Black people’s experiences with agriculture began and ended with slavery. — —Joi Howard ## Ready for Change The county plans to ratify a Crownsville Memorial Park master plan in early 2025 for the now 500-acre property, featuring a museum with historical displays, multiuse trails for biking and recreation, an expansion of existing food bank operations and more. As part of the park’s health and wellness committee, Howard was able to incorporate her ideas for mental health services and community gardens. “Joi has been a strong voice around issues of race and equity on the council,” says committee Chair Pam Brown, executive director of the Anne Arundel County Partnership for Children, Youth and Families. “She comes with facts, a clear vision and an understanding of history.” For Brown, who has long worked with vulnerable populations, including on issues of food security, Howard’s approach to community gardens is innovative. “She sees the bigger picture. She talks about more than just growing food so people aren’t hungry; they’re places for social behavior, physical activity, mindfulness and spiritual activity.” But as with all public projects, execution is another story. In an October meeting, a committee member said building out the park could be a “generational” endeavor. “I don’t want to wait five, 10, 20 years,” Howard says. “This is something that the community needs now.” To help move things forward, she’s partnered with the [Office of Public Health Practice and Community Engagement](https://sph.umd.edu/about/office-public-health-practice-community-engagement) in UMD’s School of Public Health on an environmental assessment, conducted by M.P.H. candidate Barrie Pasternak, to determine what environmental hazards, such as lead, asbestos and contaminated soil, will need to be mitigated before the site can be safely used. *rendering of production farm — One of Howard and enBloom’s goals is to create a small production farm at Crownsville, as shown in this rendering.* **Issue:** [Winter 2025](https://terp.umd.edu/editions/winter-2025) **Types:** [Features](https://terp.umd.edu/category/features)