Why We’re Building a Library That Can’t Be Burned

There are things I’ve read that I can’t find anymore.

Old forum threads. Community blog posts. Research papers by Black scholars that no longer have a working link. DIY recipes, rituals, case studies, entire websites—gone.

And then there are the things they’re erasing on purpose.

The banned books. The defunded libraries. The archives that never made it online before they were shut down. The stories that were passed down orally, whose keepers have died without a single recording.

It started to feel like memory itself was under attack.

That’s when the seed for Etherith was planted.

A living, breathing archive. A library built on the blockchain—so it can’t be erased, silenced, or burned.

This Isn’t Just Tech. It’s Resistance.

Etherith was never just about cool tech or chasing trends. It was born out of grief and rage.

Grief for what we’ve already lost. Rage that we keep losing more.

I kept asking:

• What happens when the people who hold our knowledge are gone?

• What happens when governments or corporations decide our stories aren’t profitable—or worse, too dangerous—to be preserved?

• What happens when an entire generation of Black, Brown, queer, poor, disabled, and displaced folks log on… and find nothing that remembers them?

What if we built something that couldn’t be destroyed?

What if the library remembered us—even when the world tried to forget?

Etherith: The Library That Remembers

Etherith is an experiment, a spell, a memory bank, and a community space.

It’s where we can store the knowledge that matters—our research, our rituals, our resistance.

And it’s not just about storing things. It’s about credit. Curation. Connection.

This isn’t just a digital dump. It’s a living library with room for storytellers, scholars, artists, organizers, and anyone with something worth remembering.

We’re building it in public. With you.

So that anyone—yes, even your auntie, your little cousin, your friend who’s not “techy”—can contribute, curate, and claim their place in history.

This Is Personal. This Is Collective. This Is Survival.

If you’ve ever lost a piece of knowledge you wish you could get back—this is for you.

If you’ve ever watched your community’s history be misrepresented or erased—this is for you.

If you believe that memory is a radical act—welcome to Etherith.

We’re building a library that remembers.

And we’re just getting started.