VTC Wij

Tre Seals ·

 

In October 2025, Graphic Matters, a Breda-based design organization focused on the social and civic dimensions of typography, launched CHARACTERS: Voices in Type in collaboration with exhibition partner Civilization.[1] The project centered on a 105-meter mural painted by more than sixty volunteers, set in VTC Wij and featuring a declaration by Anton de Kom: Vandaag vrij, altijd vrij — Free today, free forever. Among the volunteers was his grandson, linking the project directly to the history it reflects.

Research into de Kom's life and legacy expanded into a broader study of Dutch postwar protest movements. Over the following months, the project extended into poster-making workshops in public schools[2] and a design conference examining typography as a tool for public memory.[3]

 
 
 
 
 

• Anton De Kom

Anton de Kom was born in 1898 in Paramaribo, Suriname, into a family still shaped by the direct consequences of slavery. His father had been born enslaved.[4] In the 1920s, he moved to the Netherlands and became involved in anti-colonial and left-wing movements.

His book Wij slaven van Suriname, published in 1934, was the first history of slavery and Dutch colonialism in Suriname written from a Surinamese perspective.[4] He argued that abolition had not ended inequality or racism, but had reshaped them.

When he returned to Suriname in the early 1930s, colonial authorities monitored and restricted his activities. On February 7, 1933, a protest demanding his release from detention turned deadly when police opened fire, killing two people and wounding dozens more.[5] He was deported to the Netherlands and prevented from returning.

During the German occupation, he joined the Dutch resistance and wrote for underground publications. Arrested in 1944, he was deported to Germany, where he died in April 1945, just weeks before liberation.[5] For decades afterward, his work remained largely absent from Dutch education and public life, unknown to most Dutch students, including the Surinamese-Dutch activists who would later campaign for his recognition.[5]

 
 
 

[1933] Mugshot of Anton de Kom. Police photo, Paramaribo. Learn More

 

• Anti-colonial and migration struggles

In the aftermath of the Second World War, Dutch colonial authority began to fracture. When Japan surrendered in August 1945, Indonesian nationalist leaders declared independence two days later. The Dutch government refused to accept it and launched a four-year military campaign across Java and Sumatra, conducting two major offensives they termed "police actions." The conflict ended only under sustained international pressure. The United States threatened to withhold Marshall aid if the Netherlands did not transfer sovereignty. Dutch recognition of Indonesian independence came on December 27, 1949, more than four years after Indonesians had first declared it.[6]

Suriname became independent on November 25, 1975.[7] In Amsterdam, the city attempted to restrict certain neighborhoods from settlement by Surinamese migrants, a practice of racially coded housing exclusion that community organizations documented and challenged directly.[8] LOSON, the national umbrella organization for Surinamese groups in the Netherlands, had been organizing since 1973 around anti-colonial, anti-racist, and labor issues through public protests, published materials, and parliamentary advocacy.[9] These were the same organizers who would, in 1988, lead the campaign for the rehabilitation of Anton de Kom.

 
 
 

Indonesian independence fighters in 1945. Most are armed with bamboo spears. Tropenmuseum/National Museum of World Cultures., CC BY

 
 

[1975-10-21, The Hague] Demonstration during the debate in the House of Representatives on the independence of Suriname, with the participation of members of the Surinamese Parliament. Outside, people are standing with signs and banners with various slogans. Learn More

 
 

• Women’s rights movements

In the late 1960s and 1970s, feminist movements in the Netherlands made their demands visible through direct public action. Dolle Mina emerged in 1969, organizing demonstrations that combined urgency with humor. They stormed Nijenrode Castle, a private business university open only to men, burned a corset at the statue of Wilhelmina Drucker, and blocked public urinals with pink ribbons to protest the absence of public toilets for women.[10] In a Netherlands where working women were still legally fired upon marriage, their working groups addressed equal pay, abortion rights, childcare, and support for single mothers.

Founded in 1974, Wij Vrouwen Eisen broadened the campaign into a coalition drawing from across political and social groups. Their three demands were decriminalization of abortion, inclusion of abortion in health insurance, and a woman's right to decide.[11] Their banners introduced distinctive letterforms shaped by repetition and clarity, including a consistent rendering of the Dutch digraph IJ, two characters functioning as a single unit in the language.

 
 

[1971-01-30] Dolle Mina's celebrate first anniversary, Amsterdam; demonstration including for Angela Davis at the Wilhelmina Drucker Monument on Churchilllaan. Learn More

 
 

[1976-12-18] "We Women Demand" ("Wij vrouwen eisen") demonstrates in Amsterdam against decision on abortion bill; en route. Learn More

 

• Public space and civil rights

In January 1969, one of the first public demonstrations for gay and lesbian rights in Europe took place at the Binnenhof in The Hague, five months before the Stonewall uprising in New York.[12] More than a hundred participants gathered, organized by student groups opposing Article 248bis, which set the age of consent for same-sex relationships at 21 while the threshold for heterosexual relationships remained 16. The COC, the Dutch gay rights organization, had opposed the same article since 1945 but exclusively through private channels. Article 248bis was repealed in 1971.[12]

In the years that followed, the squatters' movement responded to a national housing shortage and the deliberate vacancy of buildings by property speculators, occupying spaces and organizing collectively across the country.[13] This tension reached its most visible point in 1980, when protesters marched during Queen Beatrix's coronation under the slogan Geen woning, geen kroning: no housing, no coronation. It was one of the most significant episodes of civil unrest in the Netherlands since the end of World War II.[14]

 
 
 

[1969-01-21] Demonstration against legislation regarding homosexual contacts at the Binnenhof: young people with banners and signs. Learn More

 
 

[1980-03-07] Commission for Volkskrant; text: "no home: no coronation" on a fence at the Haarlemmer Houttuinen. Learn More

 
 

• Mass mobilization and scale

In November 1981, a demonstration against the nuclear arms race in Amsterdam drew an unexpected 400,000 people, the largest protest the Netherlands had seen since the end of the war.[15] During the period known as Hollanditis, a coalition of anti-military and peace groups organized against the deployment of American cruise missiles on Dutch soil, collecting over 3.75 million signatures. A second demonstration in The Hague in October 1983 drew an estimated 550,000 people.[16]

At this scale, communication depended on consistency and legibility, with messages designed to be read across large crowds and from a distance. The visual record of those years, hand-lettered banners filling the widest streets in the country, belongs to the same protest typography that the typeface draws from.

 
 
 

[1981-02-06] Demonstration against the introduction of the neutron bomb at the American consulate in Amsterdam. Learn More

 
 
 

[1978-03-18] Massive demonstration against Neutron bomb; overview of the demonstration. Learn More

 

• Eerherstel, 1988

In the 1980s, Ernestine Comvalius encountered the work of Anton de Kom through independent research. His absence from formal education led her and other members of LOSON to study archival materials at the International Institute of Social History, working through newspapers and records from his lifetime.[5]

In 1988, the organization launched a petition demanding eerherstel, formal rehabilitation and official recognition, for de Kom. Without digital platforms, the campaign relied on printed materials, public demonstrations, and media attention.[5] A protest march accompanied the petition, along with a proposal to name a public square after him. A square in Amsterdam Zuidoost was eventually named in his honor, though broader official recognition developed more slowly. Among the materials produced during the campaign was a protest banner bearing his name.

 
 
 

• The Source

The 1988 banner forms the primary visual reference for VTC Wij. Its letterforms are upright, consistent in stroke weight, and nearly uniform in width. Each character occupies a similar horizontal space regardless of its internal structure.

Because most reference materials were handmade rather than printed, the process focused on identifying what remained consistent across different hands. The uppercase S appeared in four variations throughout the archive. Three shared a structural logic that aligned with the broader letterform set and were included. A fourth, constructed entirely from vertical and horizontal strokes without curves or diagonals, was excluded. These selected forms informed the lowercase s and numerals 2 and 5, where fewer reference images existed. In the M and W, the central vertex consistently sits at or below the midpoint of the cap height rather than reaching the top, a characteristic of letters drawn quickly and at scale by hand.

The Dutch digraph IJ, drawn consistently in banners from Wij Vrouwen Eisen, is incorporated as a single glyph, reflecting both its role in the language and its place in the visual archive.

 
 
 
 
 
 

• From Archive to Use

The typeface was first used in the CHARACTERS: Voices in Type mural in Breda, where de Kom's declaration was painted across 105 meters in a single day. The project extended into a poster exhibition at 3sec Gallery, a publication produced for Koppermaandag,[17] and a design conference examining typography as a tool for public memory.[3] In workshops with secondary school students, participants used VTC Wij to design their own protest posters, addressing issues relevant to their own lives and communities.[2]

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

REFERENCES

[1] Graphic Matters, “CHARACTERS: Voices in Type”
[2] Graphic Matters, “Workshop: Laat Letters Spreken”
[3] Graphic Matters, “Voices in Type: Assembly”
[4] UnHerd, “The anti-racist who shames the Dutch”
[5] The Black Archives, “Eerherstel voor Anton de Kom is nog steeds nodig”
[6] Wikipedia, “Indonesian National Revolution”
[7] Britannica, “Suriname”
[8] Taylor & Francis, “Amplifying Voices: Engaging and Disengaging with Colonial Pasts in Amsterdam”
[9] Oxford Academic, “Claiming a Postcolonial Differential Citizenship”
[10] Atria, “Action Group Dolle Mina”
[11] Taylor & Francis, “1975–1985: A Catalyst for Global South-Oriented Advocacy by Dutch Feminists”
[12] Wikipedia, “LGBTQ Rights in the Netherlands”
[13] Wikipedia, “Squatting in the Netherlands”
[14] Wikipedia, “Amsterdam Coronation Riots”
[15] Wikipedia, “Hollanditis”
[16] Historiek, “Hollanditis en het massale verzet tegen kruisraketten”
[17] Graphic Matters, “Koppermaandag Print 2026”

 
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MARTIN Display

Tre Seals ·

 

In 1968, Memphis became the epicenter of America's struggle for economic justice when predominantly Black sanitation workers rose in collective defiance. What began as a labor dispute transformed into a watershed moment for civil rights, ultimately drawing Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. to his final cause. The VTC Martin font family, named in honor of Dr. King, was born from this crucible of protest, with letterforms derived from the iconic "I AM A MAN" protest signs that demanded recognition of fundamental humanity.

Memphis in the 1960s was two separate Americas. While white Memphis enjoyed prosperity, Black sanitation workers navigated a city designed to keep them invisible except when performing degrading labor. Under Mayor Henry Loeb's administration, these men worked with decrepit trucks, endured 60-hour weeks for poverty wages, were sent home without pay when it rained, and labored without breaks. Their 1966 strike attempt had failed, underscoring a painful truth: in Memphis, Black suffering was expected to remain silent.

 
 

Sanitation workers inspect a garbage truck similar to the one in which two workers were killed on Feb. 1, 1968. Courtesy of the Preservation and Special Collections Department, University Libraries, University of Memphis.

 
 

On February 1, 1968, Echol Cole and Robert Walker were crushed to death by faulty equipment in their garbage truck. These weren't isolated incidents but the culmination of years of ignored safety concerns. The city's response—offering their families just one month's salary and burial expenses—revealed a callous disregard that could no longer be tolerated.

 
 
 

Robert Walker poses in an undated photo. He was one of two sanitation workers killed Feb. 1, 1968. Photo supplied by Walker’s sister, Veria Ford. View Source

 

On February 12, 1968, 1,300 sanitation workers walked off jobs that paid so little many qualified for welfare while working full-time. Led by T.O. Jones, they demanded union recognition, better safety standards, and decent wages. Workers carried handmade signs with simple, direct messages about their conditions. Mayor Loeb's swift rejection of their demands set the stage for an escalating struggle.

 
 
 

An overflowing litter basket draws a glance from one of the 200 marchers in downtown Memphis. (Photo by Bettmann Archive/Getty Images) Learn More

 
 

When Mayor Loeb's police unleashed batons, mace, and attack dogs on peaceful protesters, they attacked a community's awakening sense of possibility. Police photographed protesters as threats of retaliation, while Black city employees were warned they'd lose jobs if they supported the strike. The city used court injunctions to limit protests while hiring replacement workers.

 
 

Police clash with striking workers in downtown Memphis on Feb. 23, using riot control gas to disperse the crowd. (Getty Images)

 
 

Patrolman K.N. Overall watches as two non-striking workers clean downtown during the strike. (Photo by Bettmann Archive/Getty Images) Learn More

 

Reverend James Lawson, having studied nonviolence in India, recognized something larger than a labor dispute—America's moral reckoning. Through Community on the Move for Equality (COME), Lawson transformed church basements into strategy centers. By mid-March, Lawson reached out to Dr. King, whose Poor People's Campaign focused on economic justice. King saw in Memphis the embodiment of his vision connecting racial and economic rights.

 
 
 

The Revs. James M. Lawson, left, and Martin Luther King Jr. hold a news conference on March 28, 1968, in Memphis. Courtesy Of The Mississippi Valley Collection/University Of Memphis Libraries.

 

Dr. King first came to Memphis on March 18, addressing thousands at Mason Temple. He returned on March 28 for a mass march where the iconic "I AM A MAN" signs first appeared—a revolutionary declaration of human dignity. The demonstration descended into chaos when some participants broke windows and police responded with excessive force, killing 16-year-old Larry Payne. Mayor Loeb deployed the National Guard.

Despite pressure to abandon Memphis after the March 28 violence, King returned on April 3. That evening, as a violent thunderstorm battered Memphis, King delivered his prophetic "Mountaintop" speech at Mason Temple: "I've been to the mountaintop. I've seen the Promised Land." His words hung in the air like a testament, leaving many sensing King understood the sacrifice before him.

 
 
 

The Rev. Ralph Abernathy, right, and Bishop Julian Smith, left, flank Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., during a civil rights march in Memphis, Tenn., March 28, 1968. (AP Photo/Jack Thornell) Learn More

 
 

National Guard troops stand with bayonets fixed as sanitation workers march peacefully wearing “I AM A MAN” placards. (Photo by Getty Images) Learn More

 

At 6:01 p.m. on April 4, 1968, a single bullet at the Lorraine Motel forever altered American history. Dr. King's assassination transformed the Memphis struggle from local labor dispute into national reckoning. For the memorial march on April 8, a second set of "I AM A MAN" signs were created alongside "UNION JUSTICE NOW" and "HONOR KING: END RACISM" signs. The murder of America's apostle of nonviolence laid bare the violence inherent in the system these workers fought against.

Coretta Scott King arrived with a radical proposition: honor her husband by completing what he began. The silent march she led on April 8 brought 42,000 people through Memphis streets in funeral procession and determined solidarity. When President Johnson dispatched Under Secretary James Reynolds to negotiate, it was fear—not compassion—that motivated the White House. The April 16 agreement recognizing the union represented America's belated acknowledgment that Black labor deserved protection.

 
 
Robert Abbott Sengstacke/Getty Images

A group of demonstrators holding signs reading 'Union Justice Now', 'Honor King: End Racism!' and 'I Am A Man' march in protest soon after the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Memphis, TN, April 1968. (Photo by Robert Abbott Sengstacke/Getty Images) Learn More

 
 

Coretta Scott King leads the silent memorial march through Memphis on April 8, 1968, four days after her husband's assassination. The march drew 42,000 participants. (Alamy) Learn More

 

The VTC Martin font family preserves protest in letterform, with each character derived from the letterpress "I AM A MAN" placards carried during King's April 8, 1968, memorial march in Memphis. A chance eBay discovery of a 1960 Hamilton Wood Type catalog revealed the signs typeset in Gothic No. 6243, a typeface from Hamilton's 1906 catalog, according to wood type historian David Shields. Additional weights were drawn from other Hamilton Gothic typefaces, while punctuation marks were sourced from headlines of The Baltimore Afro-American Newspaper from the early 1960s. The team created a cohesive variable font family with smooth transitions between weights and styles. By digitizing these protest forms, VTC Martin transforms ephemeral resistance into a living communication tool.

 
 
 

The first version of VTC Martin was released in June 2016 as the very first Vocal Type font. What began as a single weight has since grown, nine years later, into two families: VTC Martin Display and VTC Martin. VTC Martin Display stays closest to the original—bold in its uppercase, lighter in its lowercase—and now includes variable italics. VTC Martin, on the other hand, has evolved into a more versatile family with variable weights and italics, and a rebalanced relationship between uppercase and lowercase characters.

 
 
 
 

The Memphis Sanitation Strike isn't ancient history—it's unfinished business. Today's "essential workers" still face similar struggles: dangerous conditions and wages that don't reflect their value. When we use VTC Martin, we continue a conversation about human worth that those workers began. Each letter carries the DNA of resistance; each word becomes an act of remembrance. Their strike reminds us that profound social change often begins with the simple, revolutionary act of declaring: I AM.

 
 
 
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MARTIN

Tre Seals ·

 

In 1968, Memphis became the epicenter of America's struggle for economic justice when predominantly Black sanitation workers rose in collective defiance. What began as a labor dispute transformed into a watershed moment for civil rights, ultimately drawing Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. to his final cause. The VTC Martin font family, named in honor of Dr. King, was born from this crucible of protest, with letterforms derived from the iconic "I AM A MAN" protest signs that demanded recognition of fundamental humanity.

Memphis in the 1960s was two separate Americas. While white Memphis enjoyed prosperity, Black sanitation workers navigated a city designed to keep them invisible except when performing degrading labor. Under Mayor Henry Loeb's administration, these men worked with decrepit trucks, endured 60-hour weeks for poverty wages, were sent home without pay when it rained, and labored without breaks. Their 1966 strike attempt had failed, underscoring a painful truth: in Memphis, Black suffering was expected to remain silent.

 
 

Sanitation workers inspect a garbage truck similar to the one in which two workers were killed on Feb. 1, 1968. Courtesy of the Preservation and Special Collections Department, University Libraries, University of Memphis.

 
 

On February 1, 1968, Echol Cole and Robert Walker were crushed to death by faulty equipment in their garbage truck. These weren't isolated incidents but the culmination of years of ignored safety concerns. The city's response—offering their families just one month's salary and burial expenses—revealed a callous disregard that could no longer be tolerated.

 
 
 

Robert Walker poses in an undated photo. He was one of two sanitation workers killed Feb. 1, 1968. Photo supplied by Walker’s sister, Veria Ford. View Source

 

On February 12, 1968, 1,300 sanitation workers walked off jobs that paid so little many qualified for welfare while working full-time. Led by T.O. Jones, they demanded union recognition, better safety standards, and decent wages. Workers carried handmade signs with simple, direct messages about their conditions. Mayor Loeb's swift rejection of their demands set the stage for an escalating struggle.

 
 
 

An overflowing litter basket draws a glance from one of the 200 marchers in downtown Memphis. (Photo by Bettmann Archive/Getty Images) Learn More

 
 

When Mayor Loeb's police unleashed batons, mace, and attack dogs on peaceful protesters, they attacked a community's awakening sense of possibility. Police photographed protesters as threats of retaliation, while Black city employees were warned they'd lose jobs if they supported the strike. The city used court injunctions to limit protests while hiring replacement workers.

 
 

Police clash with striking workers in downtown Memphis on Feb. 23, using riot control gas to disperse the crowd. (Getty Images)

 
 

Patrolman K.N. Overall watches as two non-striking workers clean downtown during the strike. (Photo by Bettmann Archive/Getty Images) Learn More

 

Reverend James Lawson, having studied nonviolence in India, recognized something larger than a labor dispute—America's moral reckoning. Through Community on the Move for Equality (COME), Lawson transformed church basements into strategy centers. By mid-March, Lawson reached out to Dr. King, whose Poor People's Campaign focused on economic justice. King saw in Memphis the embodiment of his vision connecting racial and economic rights.

 
 
 

The Revs. James M. Lawson, left, and Martin Luther King Jr. hold a news conference on March 28, 1968, in Memphis. Courtesy Of The Mississippi Valley Collection/University Of Memphis Libraries.

 

Dr. King first came to Memphis on March 18, addressing thousands at Mason Temple. He returned on March 28 for a mass march where the iconic "I AM A MAN" signs first appeared—a revolutionary declaration of human dignity. The demonstration descended into chaos when some participants broke windows and police responded with excessive force, killing 16-year-old Larry Payne. Mayor Loeb deployed the National Guard.

Despite pressure to abandon Memphis after the March 28 violence, King returned on April 3. That evening, as a violent thunderstorm battered Memphis, King delivered his prophetic "Mountaintop" speech at Mason Temple: "I've been to the mountaintop. I've seen the Promised Land." His words hung in the air like a testament, leaving many sensing King understood the sacrifice before him.

 
 
 

The Rev. Ralph Abernathy, right, and Bishop Julian Smith, left, flank Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., during a civil rights march in Memphis, Tenn., March 28, 1968. (AP Photo/Jack Thornell) Learn More

 
 

National Guard troops stand with bayonets fixed as sanitation workers march peacefully wearing “I AM A MAN” placards. (Photo by Getty Images) Learn More

 

At 6:01 p.m. on April 4, 1968, a single bullet at the Lorraine Motel forever altered American history. Dr. King's assassination transformed the Memphis struggle from local labor dispute into national reckoning. For the memorial march on April 8, a second set of "I AM A MAN" signs were created alongside "UNION JUSTICE NOW" and "HONOR KING: END RACISM" signs. The murder of America's apostle of nonviolence laid bare the violence inherent in the system these workers fought against.

Coretta Scott King arrived with a radical proposition: honor her husband by completing what he began. The silent march she led on April 8 brought 42,000 people through Memphis streets in funeral procession and determined solidarity. When President Johnson dispatched Under Secretary James Reynolds to negotiate, it was fear—not compassion—that motivated the White House. The April 16 agreement recognizing the union represented America's belated acknowledgment that Black labor deserved protection.

 
 
Robert Abbott Sengstacke/Getty Images

A group of demonstrators holding signs reading 'Union Justice Now', 'Honor King: End Racism!' and 'I Am A Man' march in protest soon after the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Memphis, TN, April 1968. (Photo by Robert Abbott Sengstacke/Getty Images) Learn More

 
 

Coretta Scott King leads the silent memorial march through Memphis on April 8, 1968, four days after her husband's assassination. The march drew 42,000 participants. (Alamy) Learn More

 

The VTC Martin font family preserves protest in letterform, with each character derived from the letterpress "I AM A MAN" placards carried during King's April 8, 1968, memorial march in Memphis. A chance eBay discovery of a 1960 Hamilton Wood Type catalog revealed the signs typeset in Gothic No. 6243, a typeface from Hamilton's 1906 catalog, according to wood type historian David Shields. Additional weights were drawn from other Hamilton Gothic typefaces, while punctuation marks were sourced from headlines of The Baltimore Afro-American Newspaper from the early 1960s. The team created a cohesive variable font family with smooth transitions between weights and styles. By digitizing these protest forms, VTC Martin transforms ephemeral resistance into a living communication tool.

 
 
 

The first version of VTC Martin was released in June 2016 as the very first Vocal Type font. What began as a single weight has grown, nine years later, into two families: VTC Martin and VTC Martin Display. VTC Martin now includes variable weights and italics, with its most notable update being a balanced relationship between uppercase and lowercase characters. By contrast, VTC Martin Display remains closer to the original—bold in its uppercase, lighter in its lowercase—while also expanding to include variable italics.

 
 
 
 

The Memphis Sanitation Strike isn't ancient history—it's unfinished business. Today's "essential workers" still face similar struggles: dangerous conditions and wages that don't reflect their value. When we use VTC Martin, we continue a conversation about human worth that those workers began. Each letter carries the DNA of resistance; each word becomes an act of remembrance. Their strike reminds us that profound social change often begins with the simple, revolutionary act of declaring: I AM.

 
 
 
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TRÉ

Tre Seals ·

 
 

As I’m writing this, the year is 2023. However, this all began about two or three years ago when, during a post-lecture Q&A session, someone from the audience asked, “Do you consider yourself an activist, and if so, will you make a font inspired by your own story.”

I honestly didn’t know how to respond to that, nor do I remember my response to that. I just remember thinking that there would be this air of arrogance in naming a typeface after myself.

However, sometime later, I had a meeting with a potential partner (I don’t call people clients), and they mentioned that I’m very mysterious as there’s very little about me online beyond the fact that I founded Vocal Type, and a few statements about my work.

That’s when I realized that unless you attend one of my lectures, you know very little about me. So here we are.

It’s a long read, but I promise I could not make it any shorter. and there’s a lot of scrolling, but I hope enjoy.

 
 
 
 
 
 

Part 1—The Redacted Biography

My journey began at the age of four. It started with a headache. And then excessive blinking. And then the headaches became paralyzing. I had a brain tumor. I was born with it, and as I grew, it grew with me until it became the size of a golf ball. I’ve recently learned that only 1-2 out of a million people get this particular type of brain tumor. Through that ordeal, drawing and writing became my only means of working through the pain. And even when the tumor was gone, I needed a way to express what I was feeling, so drawing and writing became my only means of doing that as well. So, I’d draw to my heart’s content. When I got tired of drawing, I’d practice writing in cursive until my handwriting looked like the sample sheets.

Four years later, just when I was becoming a real kid again, I was diagnosed with a residual brain tumor. That’s when everything changed. I was different. The way I thought about everything was different. Not like, ‘I think we should see someone about this,’ but more of a maturity type of different.

Instead of drawing pictures of skateboarders and basketball players, I was drawing pictures of Venus De Milo, David, Greek Columns, and broken chains.

 
 
 

Unfinished drawing of Venus de Milo from 4th grade

 
 

However, beyond just drawing, a lot was happening around that time: I experienced racism for the first time when I was in the third grade; I started learning more about Black and Brown history, which made racism way more confusing. All of these experiences, combined, made me more observant. They made me want to understand people more. 

 
 
 

Suspension bridge design for 4th grade science class.

 

So I started observing the two people that I was around the most—my parents. I observed how they ran their business and how they treated their customers. It inspired me to start my own business. Plus, I had no allowance, but that is not the point. So, in the 5th and 6th grade, while I was supposed to be selling items at the school store, I was convincing kids to have me graffiti their name on an index card for $3. This was my sales sheet.

 
 
 
 

This experience made me realize that if I could make other people happy by doing what makes me happy, then that’s what I need 2 be doing for the rest of my life. So, from middle school through college, I was designing and selling tattoos, resumes, t-shirts, bead jewelry, posters, Lego™ jewelry, and more. I ran the comics section of the school newspaper, and I designed yearbooks for 3 schools. If I thought of it, I made it. If I wanted something, but couldn’t afford it, then I made it, and if people liked it, then I’d probably try to sell it.

 
 
 

Beads and Photography by me (2009).

 

Beads and Photography by me (2009).

 
 
 

Aside from these creative hustles, I also started a 3 year long personal project. During my senior year of high school, I started drawing what would become the basis for my very first typeface.  I didn’t know anything about type design back then, but I knew that one day I’d be capable of releasing it to the world.

 
 
 
 

And finally, in 2013, during my sophomore year of college, I finally did it. I unveiled “Unveil.” As for the sans serif part, it’s mostly some free Futura, because I knew a ton more about Illustrator than type design. But the end result was a multilayer vector font with 5 styles. That can be layered to create unique compositions like these.

 
 
 
 
 
 

Once the excitement died down, my passion became branding, but with an emphasis on typography, encouraged by a boss at an internship who pushed me to work on as many type projects as possible. Branding remained my passion, my specialty, but the education I received during that internship lit a spark in me. A few months later, while in my senior year of college, I made a pact with myself that by the time I was 25, I would become an internationally respected designer.

To make that pact a reality, I turned down art director positions at startups and a junior design position at Pepsi. I accepted a full-time position at a staffing agency where I had the opportunity to contract with eight or nine companies over the course of two years. I learned a lot about what kind of designer I wanted to be and the clients I wanted to work with. I worked for some ad agencies with bad morals and worse clients. I worked for a real estate tech company with whom I branded dozens of agents, which I enjoyed. I even worked on the rebranding of a Jewish community center, which was amazing.

 
 
 
 
 

However, in March 2016, while aimlessly scrolling for fonts while crafting another identity for another real estate agency (I did a lot of those back then), I just became really bored. Everything I saw, no matter how beautiful, all just looked the same. You could argue it’s because we are obsessed with grids and perfection, but the truth is there was no culture, no character – only monotony and stereotypes. While design is my passion, I started wondering if I had picked the wrong career.

Simultaneously, soon after this experience, I read Dr. Cheryl Holmes-Miller’s 1987 thesis, “Black Designers Missing In Action.” It was one of the first times anyone mentioned the idea of diversity in design, summarising that while most industries are white male-dominated, if our job is to communicate an idea to Black and Brown communities, Black and Brown creatives need a seat at the table as one of the most underrepresented, but most influential, cultures in the industry.

Then one day, not long after, I came across the 1987 thesis by Dr. Cheryl Holmes-Miller, entitled “Black Designers: Missing In Action.” It was one of the first times that anyone really mentioned the idea of diversity in design. The article summarizes that when an industry, not just design, is white male-dominated, these industries can do more harm than good when the diversity of the world is not represented at the proverbial table.

 
 
 
 

But it wasn’t until I read her 2016 sequel, released just a few weeks later, entitled “Black Designers: Still Missing In Action”, That I became truly inspired. This version of the article was less analytical and was more so her way of passing the torch to the next generation of Black designers. It was because of this article that I began thinking, how can we effectively solve the problems and challenges of our clients when we’ve barely even faced any of the problems and challenges in our own industry? That’s why I decided to find a way to increase diversity in the graphic design industry. I knew for a fact that I couldn’t simply change the demographics, or the education system for that matter.

 
 
 
 
 

However, when I looked back on my life, and thought about the days of practicing my penmanship, and graffitiing people’s names on index cards, designing tattoos, and making Unveil, starting a font foundry just made sense.

 
 
 
 
 

However, I had to ask myself two very important questions: first, does the world really need another font foundry? And two, If I start a font foundry, what can I do differently?

In thinking about diversity, I also had to think about my racial experiences. Like the first time I encountered racism and bigotry in the workplace. And the first time I was called the “N-WORD.” And the first time I experienced racism, way back in the 3rd grade. However, I was also forced to evaluate my positive racial experiences. Like the first time I learned about Dr. King, Eva Peron, Bayard Rustin, Ruben Salazar, Dolores Huerta, and so many others, and the pride I felt in learning Black and Brown history.

I realized then that typography could be more than just a design tool but a tool for education and sharing stories, like the one I'm telling you right now. Because these stories are what connect us. I developed the idea for Vocal Type, a font foundry that would introduce a piece of minority culture into the root of any good graphic design work—typography.

I could end the story there and say that the rest is history, but it wouldn't be the whole story.

 
 
 

Vocal Type didn't come to be overnight. People told me I didn't know enough about diversity and inclusion to start coming up with solutions, but that fueled me even more. It fueled me to work harder. However, despite my efforts, Vocal Type wasn't gaining traction after four years of work. 

But when the police murdered George Floyd, everything changed. I shut down my brand consultancy, Studio Seals, a few weeks later to focus solely on Vocal. The next thing I knew, Vocal was on every "Support Black Design" list. I went from 3,000 to 12,000 followers in a month. I started receiving emails from agencies and companies I could have only dreamed of working with asking me to do work with them. Yet, there was this burning thought that every opportunity I received was not because of my talent or efforts. It was because of George.

At the same time, this is what it took for me to realize precisely how vital Vocal was/is in the grand scheme of things. Since George’s murder, my typefaces have gone from being inspired by progressive movements to becoming a part of them. 

 
 

PART 2 — Designing VTC Tré

Beyond the introduction, the design of VTC Tré came out of my need for a logo design. Aside from releasing this font family on my 30th birthday, I’ve also launched my personal portfolio site, treseals.com. I wanted a space to show projects like the Spike Lee book, and I only felt comfortable showing the custom type here.

As you probably know, designing your logo is the most challenging, most nerve-wracking project you will ever work on in your career (unless you’re the type to pick Helvetica and move on). As a storyteller, I wanted my logo and identity to embody my story.

At first, I wanted my logo to connect to my scars. That way, the logo would be a physical representation of me. I felt that, at the time, if I could figure out how to make that work, then I’d be set. Naturally, like most first ideas, it didn’t work out.

 
 
 
 

A few hundred logos later (kidding (kind of)), I realized that stencils represented most aspects of my life so far. These surgically cut letterforms connect to my experiences as a 2x brain tumor survivor, as well as my experiences with lettering, graffiti, political communication (e.g., stencil protest signs), and storytelling.

The end result is a family that comes in 3 optical sizes: display, subhead, and text. This way, it can be used for the body copy of a book or your next protest sign/graffiti piece. It also has italics that incorporate elements from cursive lettering (I only know how to write in cursive, so).

Lastly, I’ve also included my personal logo mark as decorative elements.

That’s all for now. I kept it as short as I could, but I hope you enjoyed the read, and I hope you enjoy the font family even more. I’ll be sharing more stories on this on Instagram, but in the meantime, many thanks.

 
 
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TANK MAN

Tre Seals ·

 
 

Before I delve into the details, I would like to state that I possess a profound understanding of the delicacy and the sensitivity of the subject matter pertaining to the 1989 Tiananmen Square protests in China. This topic holds immense emotional significance for the Chinese community worldwide, and it is not my intention, in any form, to trivialize or disrespect this sensitivity.

The process of producing this project has not been without its obstacles. I was brought to the realization that anyone lending their hand in the creation of this endeavor might face severe repercussions. This in itself speaks volumes about the intensity and emotional gravity surrounding this issue.

While I have considered not releasing this font family, I have been told it is too important not to release it. With that said, I give you the history and design behind VTC Tank Man.

Thank you.

 
 

Getty Images

 

In 1989, the protesters in Tiananmen Square in central Beijing peacefully called for political and economic reform, spurred on by the death of a leading politician, Hu Yaobang, who had overseen some of the economic and political changes. Political opponents had pushed him out of a top position in the party two years earlier. [1]

The Chinese authorities responded with overwhelming force to repress the demonstrations.

Military units were brought in, and unarmed protesters and onlookers were killed en masse. The Chinese government has never acknowledged the actual events surrounding the Tiananmen massacre. It remains a contentious topic in China, with authorities banning all mention of the protest even today.[2]

For the younger generation who didn’t live through the protests, there is little awareness about what happened. Many have only become aware of it after going to other countries.

While it’s unclear how many civilians were killed, in 2017, newly released UK documents revealed that a diplomatic cable from then-British Ambassador to China, Sir Alan Donald, had said 10,000 had died. [1]

CAUTION: If you decide to do further research, be prepared. There are images of the dead and wounded in the aftermath of this event. I will not be going into further detail. Please be cautious.

 
 
 

Getty Images

 

Dominic Dudouble/Reuters

 

The design for the first installment of VTC Tank Man comes from these two banners carried during the peaceful protest. It was one of the only banners I was able to find that was photographed from multiple angles and by two different photographers. “Qingdao student single petition group to help Beijing,” is written below the phrase “Give me democracy or give me death.”

Now, I must also mention that what drew me to highlight this protest was the genius and foresight of the students. Aside from the many banners featuring English translations, many of the phrases from these banners came from movements before it. Phrases such as “WE SHALL OVERCOME” from the Civil Rights Movement, “ALL POWER BELONGS TO THE PEOPLE” (loosely) from the Black Panther Party, and even an Abraham Lincoln quote. [3] [4]

 
 
 

Getty Images

 

Getty Images

 
 
 

Getty Images

 
 

However, beyond the replication of powerful slogans, there was the creation of the "Goddess of Democracy" statue. [5]

On May 27, 1989, after more than a month of demonstrations in the square, protest organizers tasked a group of Beijing art students with creating a statue. According to Tsao Hsingyuan, an associate of the artists who published a detailed account of the statue’s creation in the book “Popular Protest and Political Culture in Modern China,” the group consisted of around 15 students in their 20s. They have remained mostly anonymous, despite the prominence of their work.

Basing themselves at the prestigious Central Academy of Fine Arts (CAFA), the students were given 8,000 yuan (then around $2,000) for materials and expenses – and just three days to complete the 33-foot-tall sculpture, which was created off-site before being transported to the square for assembly.

They needed a design that would resonate with protesters and the outside world alike, according to Tsao, who wrote that students worked in shifts throughout the night. They saved time by basing their design on a smaller model, already in their studio, of a man gripping a pole with both hands. [6]

 
 

Getty Images

 
 

Getty Images

 

While many people have noted its resemblance to the Statue of Liberty, a sculptor present during its construction, Tsao Tsing-yuan, has written that the students decided not to model their statue on the Statue of Liberty because they were concerned that it would be unoriginal and “too openly pro-American.” Tsao further notes the influence on the statue of the work of Russian sculptor Vera Mukhina, who associated with the school of revolutionary realism. Her piece Worker and Kolkhoz Woman was especially influential for their statue's head and facial features. [7]

However, symbolically, it wasn’t the creation of the sculpture that was important, but its destruction. On the morning of June 4, after troops had entered the square to clear protesters by force, a military vehicle toppled the statue. It was later demolished and removed.

“It fell at the center of China’s autocracy, loudly collapsing in the center of Tiananmen Square. The statue died for China’s democracy underneath the tanks of the Chinese military.” [6]

As a part of the trial version of this font family, the torch has been adapted with features from both the banner and the sculpture.

 
 

Getty Images

 

As for the name Tank Man, that story begins on June 5, 1989, one day after Chinese troops expelled thousands of demonstrators from the Square, a solitary, unarmed protester stood his ground before a column of tanks advancing down the Avenue of Eternal Peace. This extraordinary confrontation became an icon of the fight for freedom worldwide. [8]

According to the photographer, Jeff Widener, this man in a white shirt and dark trousers carrying what appeared to be shopping bags came out of nowhere. From the hotel balcony, Widener watched as the man confronted the lead tank, standing directly in front of it. The tank stopped and tried to go around the man. The man moved with the tank, blocking its path once again.

At one point during the standoff, the man climbed aboard the lead tank and appeared to speak to whoever was inside. [9]

In the three-plus decades since that day, Tank Man has been immortalized in photos, television shows, posters, and T-shirts. He remains an icon and a mystery. [10]

 
 
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GARIBALDI

Tre Seals ·

 
 

In (an ongoing) partnership with my good friend Michele Patanè, we bring you VTC Garibaldi. This family is inspired by the prolific typographic production of anti-fascist material distributed during WWII: flyers, journals, posters, etc. Works made in clandestinity to avoid the heavy repercussions people could face if found out.

The print work is utilitarian and informal, using what was available. Letterpress, typewriters, cyclostyle machines. The typography is eclectic: we can recognize classic typefaces from the Nebiolo type-foundry, imported typefaces from Germany, wooden type used for headlines or mastheads, monospaced types, and occasionally some decorative faces. There was no time, resources and often the typographical skills to create elaborate designs. The production of was an ephemeral material was limited to a couple of hundred flyers or less to be distributed locally. In cases like the journal ‘Il Combattente’ (The Combatant), published between December 7, 1943 (No. 1) and July 25, 1944 (No. 11), the project is more accomplished and elaborated. It was in fact the journal of the ‘Brigate Garibaldi’, one of the biggest and better organized groups of the Resistance.

The type family has been conceived as a combination of different styles that work together, giving life to a typographic palette where differences and analogies across the family are the elements that define its own nature. The overall palette will offer a modernized toolkit of what could have been available to the printers of the Resistance during the fight for liberation from the Fascist regime that ruled Italy.

In the overall production, we can synthesize a few recurrent themes into a typographic palette made of a Sans, a Monospace, and a Serif type.The first piece of this puzzle is made of a Sans typeface, beginning with the Extra Condensed type that we find in use for big headlines across a variety of materials. Among these, some of the most significant examples can be found in the the masthead of ‘Il Combattente’.The nature of the letterforms here is quite structured, mechanical, and showing the flavour of wooden type production. We extended the range of weights available at the time trying to preserve that same feeling of utilitarian, sturdy letterforms.

 
 
 
 
 
 

For this version of VTC Garibaldi, we wanted to focus on the usage of big headlines made in a condensed sans grotesque with different degrees of contrast. The nature of the letterforms here is quite structured, mechanic, and related to wooden type production. This type is used across a variety of materials. One of the most significant examples is the masthead of  Il Combattente (The Combatant), a journal published between 1943 and 1945.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 

VTC Garibaldi Sans Extended in the works…

 
 
 

Images sourced by Michele

 
 

The name for VTC Garibaldi comes from the Brigate Garibaldi. The Garibaldi Brigades were partisan units aligned with the Italian Communist Party active in the armed resistance against both German and Italian fascist forces during World War II (unlike some of the other partisan units). The Garibaldi Brigades were mostly made up of communists and made up 41% of the partisan units.

The Garibaldini were distinguished by the political symbols of their uniforms: red handkerchiefs around the neck, red stars on hats, emblems with hammer and sickle. **

 
 
 

Garibaldini at the castle of Pavia, 25 April 1945. Archivio Privato Jonio Salerno

 

Eventually, we hope to release VTC Garibaldi Serif, VTC Garibaldi Mono, and a few more families. But for now, here’s VTC Garibaldi Sans Extra Condensed.

 
 
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COLORFUL

Tre Seals ·

 
 

In 2021, acclaimed designer and artist Rich Tu partnered with The One Club for Creativity, launched COLORFUL, a global portfolio competition and grant program to help young BIPOC creatives advance their careers. Winners not only receive cash prizes to fund their creative pursuits, but they also receive free entry into Young Guns, the globally recognized competition for creatives 30 years and under — an accolade that both Rich and Tré have won over the years. 

There is no fee to apply to COLORFUL, and it is open globally to all BIPOC creatives who would also qualify for that year’s Young Guns competition (age 30 years and under with at least two years of professional creative experience and never having won Young Guns before).

For COLORFUL’s third year, Vocal Type collaborated with the amazing team at Sunday Afternoon on this typeface for the identity.

 
 
 

The root of all color comes from light. Sunlight, artificial light — all visible light is made up of different wavelengths. And each wavelength corresponds to a different color.

Based on the idea of highlighting a spectrum of perspectives, this font family takes cues from the shape of the visible light spectrum (all of the colors that the human eye can perceive) from the above diagram.

 
 
 
 

In our efforts to support COLORFUL, proceeds from the sale of this font will be donated to help grow the grant program. For more information, please visit oneclub.org.

 
 
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TATSURO

Tre Seals ·

 
 

Nearly 30 years before Dr. King marched with “I AM A MAN” signs, Tatsuro Matsuda was commissioning and installing a sign that read “I AM AN AMERICAN” on his family’s storefront.

World War II came to the United States of America on Sunday morning, 7 December 1941, with a massive surprise attack by the Imperial Japanese Navy. Japanese carrier attack planes and bombers, supported by fighters, numbering 353 aircraft from six aircraft carriers, attacked the U.S. Pacific Fleet at Pearl Harbor in two waves and nearby naval and military airfields and bases. *

 
 

Dorthea Lang / Library of Congress

 
 

The day after the attack on Pearl Harbor, 8th December 1941, a large sign reading 'I AM AN AMERICAN', was hung on the Wanto Co grocery store (401 - 403 Eighth and Franklin Streets) in Oakland, California. The store was soon closed, as the Matsuda family, who owned it, were relocated and incarcerated under the US government's policy of internment of Japanese Americans. Tatsuro Matsuda, a University of California graduate, commissioned and installed the sign that inspired VTC Tatsuro.

 
 

Photo: Dorothea Lange / The Dorothea Lange Collection, the Oakland Museum of California

 

The iconic photograph of this storefront was taken by Dorothea Lange, an American documentary photographer, and photojournalist best known for her Depression-era work for the Farm Security Administration. Lange's photographs influenced the development of documentary photography and humanized the consequences of the Great Depression.

Lange took this photograph while working for the War Relocation Authority. The photograph soon became one of the most iconic images of Japanese Interment during WWII. *

 
 

National Archives Catalog

 

On February 19, 1942, shortly after the bombing of Pearl Harbor by Japanese forces, President Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066 with the intention of preventing espionage on American shores.

Military zones were created in California, Washington, and Oregon—states with a large population of Japanese Americans. Then Roosevelt’s executive order forcibly removed Americans of Japanese ancestry from their homes. Executive Order 9066 affected the lives of about 120,000 people—the majority of whom were American citizens.

Canada soon followed suit, forcibly removing 21,000 of its residents of Japanese descent from its west coast. Mexico enacted its own version, and eventually, 2,264 more people of Japanese descent were forcibly removed from Peru, Brazil, Chile, and Argentina to the United States. *

Evacuation orders were posted in Japanese-American communities giving instructions on how to comply with the executive order. Many families sold their homes, their stores, and most of their assets. They could not be certain their homes and livelihoods would still be there upon their return. Because of the mad rush to sell, properties and inventories were often sold at a fraction of their true value.

 
 

Photo: Dorothea Lange / The Dorothea Lange Collection, the Oakland Museum of California

 

Until the camps were completed, many evacuees were held in temporary centers, such as stables at local racetracks. Almost two-thirds of the interns (yes, that’s what they were called) were born in the United States. It made no difference that many had never even been to Japan. Even Japanese-American veterans of World War I were forced to leave their homes.

Ten camps were finally completed in remote areas of seven western states. Housing was spartan, consisting mainly of tar paper barracks. Families dined together at communal mess halls, and children were expected to attend school. Adults had the option of working for a salary of $5 per day. The United States government hoped that the interns could make the camps self-sufficient by farming to produce food. But cultivation on arid soil was quite a challenge. *

 
 

Photo: Dorothea Lange / The Dorothea Lange Collection, the Oakland Museum of California

 

On December 18, 1944, the government announced that all relocation centres would be closed by the end of 1945. The last of the camps, the high-security camp at Tule Lake, California, was closed in March 1946. With the end of internment, Japanese Americans began reclaiming or rebuilding their lives, and those who still had homes waiting returned to them.

 
 
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HARRIET

Tre Seals ·

 
 

It has been said that “history is written by the victors.” In many cases, oral histories have been rejected by the descendants of the victors, but when Anti-literacy laws made it illegal for enslaved and free people of color to read or write, what else is there? On top of that, most of the captured people came from West and Central Africa, came from different environments, spoke different languages, and had different customs. The main unifying element between all of them was the heritage of oral tradition. In many tribes. the most honored person was the storyteller who committed the entire history of the tribe to memory, which was then taught to a younger member of the tribe.

A great example of the survival of the African oral tradition within the contemporary African American community is the Underground Railroad Quilt Code. According to Hidden In Plain View by Jacqueline L. Tobin and Raymond G. Dobard, the Quilt Code was handed down orally, generation to generation since the Antebellum days. The code was first revealed and recited (according to the authors) by Ozella McDaniel Williams of Charleston, South Carolina. The secret communication system used quiltmaking terminology as a message map of runaways traveling along the Underground Railroad.

SOURCE: Hidden In Plain View: The Secret Story of Quilts and the Underground Railroad\ by Jacqueline Tobin

 
 
 

According to Ozella and her family’s oral history, there were ten quilts used to direct the slaves to get ready for an escape, as well as a number of secondary patterns. Each quilt block had a different meaning and part to play in the code. The quilts would be hung one at a time on a fence or cabin door, left to “air out” while communicating a specific action or step in the journey.

SOURCE: Underground Railroad Sampler by Eleanor Burns

 
 
 

JACOB’S LADDER / THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD

It has an alternating path of dark and light that can be used to show a direction.  The slaves could know which way to go by the angle at which the quilt was placed outside the home of the abolitionist. *

TUMBLING BLOCKS

This code tells the slaves to box up the belongings that they want to take with them on their trip on the Underground Railroad.

MONKEY WRENCH

It was a heavy metal tool used by the blacksmith.  As a rule, the blacksmith was the most knowledgeable person on the plantation and was known as the "Monkey Wrench".  He could travel around without anyone thinking anything suspicious and therefore pass any information needed.  In other words, the Monkey Wrench was the person or a group of people who got things moving, or - turned the wagon wheel.

When this quilt was displayed it meant it was time to collect tools needed on the journey north to freedom.  There were physical tools needed for constructing a shelter, defending themselves, and determining direction.  Along with food, and a few coins, they were to wrap these tools in a bandana bundle. *

WAGON WHEEL

Not only was the wagon wheel symbolic of a "chariot that was to carry them home", but wagons with hidden compartments were one of the primary means of transporting escaping runaways. *

 
 
 

CARPENTER’S WHEEL

This was a secondary code pattern. To the slave, the master carpenter in their lives was Jesus. They would sing the "Swing Low Sweet Chariot" and the plantation owner thought they were singing about going to Heaven, but actually it was a message to follow the directions to the west-northwest - to Ohio. *

BEAR’S PAW

With this quilt, the runaways were directed to follow an actual trail of a bear's footprints. The animal footprints would indicate the best path, just like a road map. Most escapes took place in the spring and with the spring rains, it would be easy to follow a bear's paw trail to food and safety. *

BASKET

Symbol of provisions needed for the long journey north. One of the most difficult things faced by the escaping slaves was feeding themselves along the way. They took what they could carry and then had to depend on safe houses or friends to help. Abolitionists would give them baskets of provisions and tools such as flint and compasses. So one of these quilts hung outside a house would mean a basket of provisions could be had there. *

BROKEN DISHES

This design supposedly meant that the trail ahead would be marked by a piece of pottery.

Like a quilt hanging on a line or off a porch, a bit of broken ceramic would look ordinary and innocuous to those who didn't know and wouldn't arouse suspicion. *

 
 
 

CROSSROADS

Once escapees made it safely through the Appalachian Mountains, they were to travel to the "crossroads" meaning a city where they would find protection and refuge. The main crossroad, or terminal, was Cleveland, Ohio. There were four or five overland trails connected with Cleveland, and numerous water routes, crossing Lake Erie into Canada and freedom. *

LOG CABIN

The block may have indicated there was a specific log cabin in Cleveland that was a safe house, or it may have directed the runaway to build a log cabin to weather out winter and perhaps establish a permanent residence in a "free" area. 

The usual center color of the block was red, representing the hearth or fire of the cabin.  If the center block was black it indicated the home it hung in front of was a safe house.  If the center block was yellow it meant to watch for a light, or lantern. *

SHOOFLY

This pattern represents an actual person who would help escaping slaves. His responsibility was to secretly aid and harbor fugitives. Sometimes the slaves hid out in churches, or caves referred to as cathedrals. Graveyards were frequently the hiding place, especially if they were located on the outskirts of town, or were close to rivers. *

BRITCHES

A symbol indicating the escaping slave needed to dress as a free person.

 
 
 

BOWTIE

A quilt of this pattern was a directive for them to dress in a conventional manner. When they first escaped their clothes were those of the slaves under a master. On the journey they became tattered and torn, so free blacks would often meet them in a safe place and give them fresh clothing so they wouldn't stand out among the city folks. This way they could walk through town undetected to ships waiting to take them across the Great Lakes to Canada and freedom.*

FLYING GEESE

With this quilt, the slaves learned they were to take their direction, timing, and behavior from the migrating geese. Since geese fly north in the spring, it was also the best time for slaves to escape. Geese have to stop at waterways along their journey in order to rest and eat. Especially since geese make loud honking noises it was easy for runaways to follow their flight pattern.*

BIRDS IN THE SKY

This quilt is also symbolic of flight or migration. The clever quilter would make one block with one color dominant so it gave the direction in which to travel depending on the direction the quilt was displayed.*

DRUNKARD’S PATH

This is known by a number of different names depending on whether or not the owner was a teetotaler. No matter what it was called, in the Underground Railroad, it meant that the escapees should travel in a staggering fashion to confuse any slave hunters who might be following them.*

 
 
 

SAILBOAT

This pattern was the symbol of a safe water passage to freedom. Free black sailors and ship owners helped many slaves escape directly, hiding them on board ships and spiriting them away to Canada. *

NORTH STAR

This is also known as the drinking gourd (the Big Dipper). The North Star was the guiding light because it always points to the north. It was an important navigational tool for the ship owners who took the slaves from Cleveland or Detroit to Canada.

NINE PATCH

Once runaway slaves made it to Canada, they could work for land. For every three acres of land they cleared, the Canadian government allowed them to keep one acre for themselves. The “Nine-Patch” quilt square represented the “Nine-Patch” garden they would plant when they earned their one acre of land. It signified their freedom at last! *

WREATH OF ROSES

A wreath of roses served as a memorial to those who had died along the journey, or before it.*

 
 

The font was designed to make it easier on you, the designer, to create patterns. With this in mind, A-Z, a-z, 1-9, are single quilt blocks, consisting of regular and inverted designs. With these, you can type out any pattern you please. Stylistic sets 1-5 contain patterns. For example, SS02 contains a 2x2 pattern, while SS05 contains a 5x5 pattern. Also included are alternating patterns (which are treated like ligatures), where white and black glyphs alternate to create a checkered pattern.

 
 

As for the name, VTC Harriet is named after the one and only Harriet Tubman. Harriet Tubman was an escaped enslaved woman who became a “conductor” on the Underground Railroad, leading enslaved people to freedom before the Civil War, all while carrying a bounty on her head. But she was also a nurse, a Union spy and a women’s suffrage supporter. Tubman is one of the most recognized icons in American history and her legacy has inspired countless people from every race and background. *

 
 
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VTC SPIKE

Tre Seals ·

 
 

From 2020-2021, I had the honor of designing 5 custom typefaces for the book SPIKE by Spike Lee. Aside from the type, I also designed the entire book. In tandem with the release (11.17.2021), I designed VTC Spike, a family with 3 styles. The resulting family is based on the primary headline typeface from the book, both of which are inspired by different aspects of Spike’s career.

The first sources of inspiration were the iconic “LOVE” and “HATE” rings from the iconic film Do The Right Thing. Then there’s the MARS chain from the film She’s Gotta Have It as well as a series of Michael Jordan Nike commercials.

For those who aren’t too familiar with Spike, he’s a huge New York Knicks fan, and a supporter of Black athletes in general. With that in mind, the numbers were inspired by the numbers on Knicks, Michael Jordan, and Jackie Robinson jerseys.

 
 

Courtesy of Chronicle Chroma

 

Courtesy of Chronicle Chroma

 

Courtesy of Chronicle Chroma

 
 

While all of this was great, this headline font needed more in order to represent all of the chapter titles within the book. From there, I began to evaluate Spike’s movie posters and logos, for similarities that can lend themselves to creating one cohesive font.

 
 
 
 

Above is a typographic tone board consisting of cutouts from different film posters and logos, each consisting of square or geometric counters (the inside of an ‘O’ for example), tying everything together.

Then end result is a font family that not only encompasses Spike’s work thus far, but Spike’s personality as well. This is VTC Spike.

 
 
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DU BOIS

Tre Seals ·

 
 

W.E.B. Du Bois, William Edward Burghardt Du Bois in full, was an American sociologist, historian, civil rights activist, Pan-Africanist, author, writer, and editor. After completing graduate work at the University of Berlin and Harvard, where he was the first African American to earn a doctorate, he became a professor of history, sociology, and economics at Atlanta University.

 
 
W.E.B Du Bois Collection, Special Collections and University Archives, UMass Amherst Libraries

W.E.B Du Bois Collection, Special Collections and University Archives, UMass Amherst Libraries

 

After three decades of emancipation, the gains made by African-Americans, those that existed at all, presented a decidedly mixed picture about the state of racial progress in the country. After graduating with a Ph.D. in history from Harvard University, W.E.B. Du Bois, the prominent African-American intellectual, sought a way to process all this information showing why the African diaspora in America was being held back in a tangible, contextualized form.

To accomplish this goal, Du Bois turned to the burgeoning field of sociology. Sociology’s scope in history, statistics, and demographics held the potential to quantifiably reveal "life within the Veil," as Du Bois called the structural forces of oppressions that separated black and white populations, whether that came to educational attainment, voting rights, or land ownership.

 
 
dubois16.jpg
 
dubois10.jpg
 
dubois1.jpg
 
dubois17.jpg
 

The end result was a collection of nearly 60 poster-sized infographics, all of which, aside from their intent to bring a degree of justice to Black Americans, they are also visionary examples of visual communication. Du Bois was working in the vein of the most widely recognized Modernists of the day, with his radical infographics predating the geometric, educational ambitions of the Bauhaus movement, which was founded in 1919.

The infographics have inspired a wave of 21st-century artists and data analysts still grappling with the centuries-old conundrums of* whitewashing. In some way, I hope this font family introduces the works and achievements of W.E.B. Du Bois to the greater design industry.

 
 
 
1_WS6VRnHL-YE_pilOIg4KLA 2.png
dubois22 2.jpg
1_MPyygvwb0hi3eCGrlPo9lw 3.png
1_k_oDnGVRWFk9jV1nljjUEQ 2.png
 

The infographics are hand-drawn in an uppercase sans serif with no curves. From what I’ve seen, there are 2 weights (light and bold), and 3 different widths (narrow, neutral, and wide). Lastly, one can rarely find a mix of italics and reverse italics reminiscent of slanted rectangles.

Expanding upon the work of W.E.B. Du Bois and his students, I’ve expanded the design to include lowercase characters, 11 sets of stylistic alternates, as well as a series of refined keys from some of the maps included amongst the infographics.

 
 
 
A photograph from the exhibit on African-American progress, on view inside the Palace of Social Economy at the 1900 World's Fair in Paris. (Library of Congress)

A photograph from the exhibit on African-American progress, on view inside the Palace of Social Economy at the 1900 World's Fair in Paris. (Library of Congress)

 
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RUBY

Tre Seals ·

 
 

VTC Ruby has gone by several names throughout history: “Gothic Shade,” “Tombstone,” “English Ornamented,” and more. But beyond the name, the history is even more complicated.*

During the 1850’s a type foundry in Boston, known as the Dickenson Type Foundry, stole a typeface from a foundry in France, redesigned the ‘M,’ modified the ‘N,’ and named it Gothic Shade.

Then came American Type Founders (ATF) in 1892. It was a business trust created by the merger of 23 type foundries (including the Dickenson Type Foundry), representing about 85% of all type manufactured in the United States.

ATF was the dominant American manufacturer of metal type from its creation in 1892 until at least the 1940s; it continued to be influential into the 1960s.

With the merging of these foundries, came the merging of their catalogs. And with that came Jim Crow.*

Jim Crow is the American Type Founders' 1933 and 1949 re-casting of the Dickinson Type Foundry's type of the 1850s, Gothic Shade.*

 
 
 

Beyond the name of this typeface, “Jim Crow” is a lot of things. On one hand, “Jim Crow” is a stage character by Thomas D. Rice. The character is dressed in rags and wears a bed hat and torn shoes. Rice applied blackface makeup made of burnt cork to his face and hands and impersonated a very nimble and irreverently witty African American field hand who sang a remixed slave song called “Jump Jim Crow” (1828).

This stage character was widely copied. However, The "Jim Crow" character as portrayed by Rice popularized the perception of African-Americans as lazy, untrustworthy, dumb, and unworthy of integration.*

 
 
 
 
 

With these perceptions of African Americans, there came Jim Crow laws. Jim Crow laws were state and local laws that enforced racial segregation in the Southern United States. These laws were enacted in the late 19th and early 20th centuries by white Southern Democrat-dominated state legislatures to disenfranchise and remove political and economic gains made by black people during the Reconstruction period. Jim Crow laws were enforced until 1965.

Jim Crow laws and Jim Crow state constitutional provisions mandated the segregation of public schools, public places, and public transportation, and the segregation of restrooms, restaurants, and drinking fountains between white and black people. *

 
 
 
 
 
 
 

As the idea of “separate but equal” drifted further and further from the truth, the Jim Crow font and stereotype made their way into pop culture. For example, one of the characters in “DUMBO” (who taught Dumbo how to fly) was named “Jim Crow” (an actual crow). The font (Jim Crow) was also used in several variations of posters for the film.

For the longest time, I wondered what posses the people at ATF to name this font “Jim Crow.” But when you see this “Dumbo” poster, you might think that it does have a circus vibe. Kind of like the performances one might see from the 1800’s stage character.

 
 
LMPC via Getty Images

LMPC via Getty Images

 

As Jim Crow is one of the worst font names in the history of the type industry (along with Hobo), this revival has more than a few design tweaks, but a whole new name——VTC Ruby.

On November 14, 1960, Ruby Bridges became a symbol of the U.S. civil rights movement. She was just 6 years old. Her simple act of going to an all-white school marked the beginning of integration for U.S. public schools.

Bridges was born in Tylertown, Mississippi, on September 8, 1954. A few months before her birth, the Supreme Court—the nation’s highest court —had issued a ruling on five combined cases that would impact not only Bridges’s life, but also change the course of American history.

In Brown v. Board of Education of Topeka, Kansas, the prosecution wanted to end the idea of “separate but equal schools.” In many places in the U.S., black students and white students could not attend the same school. On May 17, 1954, the Supreme Court ruled that segregation in U.S. public schools was against the constitution. In his opinion, Chief Justice Earl Warren stated that “in the field of public education the doctrine of ‘separate but equal’ has no place. Separate educational facilities are inherently unequal…”

Although it was illegal to have segregated schools, some states—especially in the South—did not follow the ruling. The Supreme Court was aware of the resistance and took action. A year after the ruling, the court declared that the desegregation of public schools should advance with “all deliberate speed.” Five years later, little Ruby would become the first student to integrate a Southern elementary school.*

 
 
 
 
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MARSHA

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The 1960s and preceding decades were not welcoming times for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) Americans. For instance, solicitation of same-sex relations was illegal in New York City.

For such reasons, LGBT individuals flocked to gay bars and clubs, places of refuge where they could express themselves openly and socialize without worry.

 
 
Photo by Fred W. McDarrah/Getty Images

Photo by Fred W. McDarrah/Getty Images

 

The Stonewall Inn, often shortened to Stonewall, is a gay bar and recreational tavern in the Greenwich Village neighborhood of Lower Manhattan, New York City, and the site of the Stonewall riots of 1969, which is widely considered to be the single most important event leading to the gay liberation movement and the modern fight for LGBT rights in the United States.

 
 
Photo by Fred W. McDarrah/Getty Images

Photo by Fred W. McDarrah/Getty Images

 

This typeface is inspired by the vertical sign that once hung outside of Stonewall, and named after Marsha P. Johnson. Marsha was an African-American, transgender woman from New Jersey, whose activism in the 1960's and 70's made her one of the most prominent figures in the Stonewall uprising of 1969.

At this time, being gay was classified as a mental illness in the United States. Gay people were regularly threatened and beaten by police, and were shunned by many in society.

Marsha was a self-declared drag queen, and said the "P" in her name stood for "Pay it no mind" - a phrase she used when people commented negatively on her appearance or life choices. *

 
 
 
Netflix

Netflix

 
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CARRIE

Tre Seals ·

 

On October 23, 1915, over 25,000 women marched up Fifth Avenue in New York City to advocate for women’s suffrage. At that point, the fight had been ongoing for more than 65 years, with the Seneca Falls Convention in 1848 first passing a resolution in favor of women’s suffrage. Unfortunately, they wouldn’t find success for another five years.*

 
 
Photo by Bettmann/Getty Images

Photo by Bettmann/Getty Images

 

New York’s 1915 suffrage parade was the largest held in the city until that time. The parade was led by skilled political strategist, suffragist, and peace activist, Carrie Chapman Catt.

 
 
Photo by Charles Phelps Cushing/Alamy Stock Photo

Photo by Charles Phelps Cushing/Alamy Stock Photo

 

Carrie Chapman Catt was an American women's suffrage leader who campaigned for the Nineteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution, which gave U.S. women the right to vote in 1920. Catt served as president of the National American Woman Suffrage Association and was the founder of the League of Women Voters and the International Alliance of Women. She led an army of voteless women in 1919 to pressure Congress to pass the constitutional amendment giving them the right to vote and convinced state legislatures to ratify it in 1920 and was one of the best-known women in the United States in the first half of the twentieth century. *

 
 
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THE NEUE BLACK

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The Art of Blackness is an annual group art exhibition that allows for a meeting of the minds between African American artists and design professionals and its primary focus is to provide these artists with both an avenue of expression and an introduction to potential patrons and resources. Images are for the TAOB's social and event-based promotions.

So, for Black History Month 2020, we collaborated on this typeface based on the signage of Martin Luther King Jr's and the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC) Chicago Freedom Movement, a campaign that marked the expansion of their civil rights activities from the South to northern cities.

 
 
8-theartofblackness-socialb.jpeg
 

On 7 January 1966, Martin Luther King and the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC) announced plans for the Chicago Freedom Movement, a campaign that marked the expansion of their civil rights activities from the South to northern cities. King and his family moved to one such Chicago slum at the end of January so that he could be closer to the movement.

Chicago civil rights groups invited King to lead a demonstration against de facto segregation in education, housing, and employment.

CCCO had already organized mass nonviolent protests in the city and was eager to engage in further action. In addition to tapping into this ready-made movement, Chicago politics made the city a good choice for a northern campaign. Mayor Richard Daley had a high degree of personal power and was in a position to directly mandate changes to a variety of racist practices. In addition to targeting racial discrimination in housing, SCLC launched Operation Breadbasket, a project under the leadership of Jesse Jackson, aimed at abolishing racist hiring practices by companies working in African American neighborhoods. 

 
 
 

The campaigns had gained momentum through demonstrations and marches, when race riots erupted on Chicago’s West Side in July 1966. During a march through an all-white neighborhood on 5 August, black demonstrators were met with racially fueled hostility. Bottles and bricks were thrown at them, and King was struck by a rock. Afterward he noted: “I have seen many demonstrations in the south but I have never seen anything so hostile and so hateful as I’ve seen here today” (“Dr. King Is Felled by Rock”). 

By late August, Mayor Daley was eager to find a way to end the demonstrations. After negotiating with King and various housing boards, a summit agreement was announced in which the Chicago Housing Authority promised to build public housing with limited height requirements, and the Mortgage Bankers Association agreed to make mortgages available regardless of race. Although King called the agreement “the most significant program ever conceived to make open housing a reality,” he recognized that it was only “the first step in a 1,000-mile journey” (King, 26 August 1966; Halvorsen, “Cancel Rights Marches”). 

Following the summit agreement, some SCLC staff stayed behind to assist in housing programs and voter registration. King himself stayed in Chicago until taking time off in January 1967 to write Where Do We Go from Here: Chaos or Community? Jackson also continued his Chicago branch of Operation Breadbasket with some success, though city officials failed to take concrete steps to address issues of housing despite the summit agreement. *

 
 
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RUBEN

Tre Seals ·

 

RUBEN is a font inspired by journalist Rubén Salazar and remnants of the 1970 National Chicano Moratorium.

 
 
 
ruben-salazar.jpg
 

The end of August in Los Angeles has historically been a time of sad recollections for Latinos, especially activists who remember a triumphant civil rights march that turned murderous.

On Aug. 29, 1970, some 25,000 activists gathered in East Los Angeles to take part in what was billed as the National Chicano Moratorium march, and protest against the Vietnam War.*

 
 
 

They were protesting the disproportionately large number of Latino soldiers who were being killed in Vietnam. It never occurred to any of them that one of three people who would be killed that day as a result of the march would be perhaps the most important Hispanic who would die in the age of civil rights protests—Rúben Salazar.

Rúben Salazar, a journalist and crusader for Latino rights — especially against law enforcement — was slain when Los Angeles Sheriff’s deputies fired a tear gas projectile that struck him in the head, killing him instantly. No one was ever arrested — then or since — in connection with Salazar’s violent death. *

 
 
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EVA

Tre Seals ·

 

EVA is a font family inspired by banners carried during a1957 women’s demonstration in Buenos Aires in front of the National Congress By Law For Universal Suffrage.

The modern suffragist movement in Argentina arose partly in conjunction with the activities of the Socialist Party and anarchists of the early twentieth century. Women involved in larger movements for social justice began to campaign for equal rights and opportunities on par with men.

 
 
 
No.1 — Ann Ronan Picture Library/Alamy Stock Photo

No.1 — Ann Ronan Picture Library/Alamy Stock Photo

 

A great pioneer of women's suffrage was Eva Perón. On February 27, 1946, three days after the elections that consecrated president Juan Perón and his wife First Lady Eva Perón 26 years of age gave his first political speech in an organized women to thank them for their support of Perón's candidacy. On that occasion, Eva demanded equal rights for men and women and particularly, women's suffrage. *

 
 
 

Although she never held any government post, Eva acted as de facto minister of health and labour, awarding generous wage increases to the unions, who responded with political support for Perón. After cutting off government subsidies to the traditional Sociedad de Beneficencia (Spanish: “Aid Society”), thereby making more enemies among the traditional elite, she replaced it with her own Eva Perón Foundation, which was supported by “voluntary” union and business contributions plus a substantial cut of the national lottery and other funds. These resources were used to establish thousands of hospitals, schools, orphanages, homes for the aged, and other charitable institutions. Eva was largely responsible for the passage of the woman suffrage law and formed the Peronista Feminist Party in 1949. She also introduced compulsory religious education into all Argentine schools. In 1951, although dying of cancer, she obtained the nomination for vice president, but the army forced her to withdraw her candidacy.

 
 
 
No.3 — Thomas D. McAvoy/Getty Images

No.3 — Thomas D. McAvoy/Getty Images

 
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JAMES

Tre Seals ·

 

JAMES is a stencil font family inspired by signs carried during one of the demonstrations that led to Title VII of the Civil Rights Act.

Committed to racial harmony, Farmer, his friend George Houser and a multi-racial group of colleagues decided that they would desegregate a Chicago eatery via a 1942 sit-in. They thus formed the Committee of Racial Equality, with the name later becoming the Congress of Racial Equality. With Farmer elected national chairman, CORE developed a mostly white North-based membership with various chapters, yet would eventually find itself becoming deeply involved in the South.*

 
 
 
No.1 — Photo by Warren K. Leffler

No.1 — Photo by Warren K. Leffler

 

The protests against unequal hiring practices at Jefferson Bank and Trust, which lasted for seven months, mark the largest—and most contentious—civil rights struggle in the history of St. Louis.

The protest was conceived by members of the Committee of Racial Equality. CORE leaders had been eager to stage a demonstration against the racist hiring practices in St Louis at a time when few African Americans worked in white-collar jobs. For example, out of the 5,133 workers in 16 local banks, just 277 were black, and 99 percent of these black workers had menial jobs. *

 
 
 

CORE sent a letter to the Jefferson Bank and Trust Company, urging the financial institution's leadership to hire four black employees in clerical positions. It received a reply insisting that there were not “four blacks in the city” fit for such jobs. This answer spurred CORE into selecting Jefferson Bank and Trust as the location of its protest. The bank quickly filed for a restraining order to prevent protesters from disrupting business. The order was quickly granted—and even named several prominent members of CORE.

By November 1 the St. Louis Argus, another African American newspaper, noted that Jefferson Bank had hired one black person—a “promotable” messenger. However, it wasn't until March 1964 that Jefferson Bank gave in and hired four African Americans to clerical positions, bringing the protests to an end. *

 
 
 
 
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BAYARD

Tre Seals ·

 

Bayard is a unique sans-serif typeface inspired by signs from the 1963 March On Washington For Jobs and Freedom.

Outside the March on Washing, Bayard was close advisor to Martin Luther King and one of the most influential and effective organizers of the civil rights movement, leading a number of protests in the 1940s, 1950s, and 1960s, as well as a public advocate on behalf of gay and lesbian causes during the 1980s. *

Bayard provided Martin with a deep understanding of nonviolent ideas and tactics at a time when he (MLK) had only an academic familiarity with Gandhi. Bayard was also instrumental in the formation of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC), proposing to King in December 1956 that he create a group that would unite black leaders in the South who possess "ties to masses of people so that their action projects are backed by broad participation of people." *

 
 
 
No.1 — Photo by Warren K. Leffler

No.1 — Photo by Warren K. Leffler

 

The March on Washington, in full March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom, was a political demonstration held in Washington, D.C., in 1963 by civil rights leaders to protest racial discrimination and to show support for major civil rights legislation that was pending in Congress.

 
 
No.2 — Photo by Werner Wolff

No.2 — Photo by Werner Wolff

 

The planning of the historic march began early in 1963. Despite the concerns of many civil rights leaders, Rustin was appointed deputy director of the march. And in less than two months Rustin guided the organization of an event that would bring over 200,000 participants to the nation’s capital.

 
 
 
No.3 — Photo by Orlando Fernandez

No.3 — Photo by Orlando Fernandez

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