When I was younger, I would see shea butter being sold on the street, and I was interested how people were still coating themselves in the theater of Africanism. You see that in dashikis and hairstyles and music.
There was a manifesto in the late '60s/early '70s, and it basically laid out what 'black art' was and that it should embrace black history and black culture. There were all these rules - I was shocked, when I found it in a book, that it even existed, that it would demarcate these artists.
I celebrate my blackness. I love the artistic vibrancy of the culture I was born to.
People forget how dominant Public Enemy became in the mid '80s. No one talks about how transformative they were. And then that led to the '90s and the sort of East Coast v. West Coast stuff, which is kinda when I came of age.
When I discovered Gil Scott-Heron, I discovered a musical hero, a man who spoke baritone truth to power over jazzy funk at a time when funky music was primarily about shake, shake, shaking your booty.
Hip-hop in the '90s began moving towards the Nation of Islam and the 5 Percenters, black nationalist movements; very much so, these movements embraced a form of Islam: Malcom X's form of Islam prior to his change.
I would say 'The Big Narstie Show' is the United Colours of Benetton; it's for everyone. But I would definitely say that it has a black appeal, because that's what I am.
I read everything, but particularly, growing up in a household where my mom was black and my dad was white, I remember really loving 'Ebony' and 'Essence.' Those magazines were the only place where I could see images of women who looked like me or my mom.
Coming up, the music of my era was very conscious. I grew up on Public Enemy, and it was popular culture to be aware. People were wearing Malcolm X T-shirts and Malcolm X hats. It was a very cool thing to know who Malcolm X was. It was all in the lyrics. It was trendy to be conscious and aware.
There are only two positions, either you support multiculturalism in American education, or you support the maintenance of white supremacy.
With guys I revere, like Marcus Garvey or Malcolm X, their look is less about style than purpose and the expression of beauty. It wasn't just about being noticed, you know?
Afrocentricity seeks to re-locate the African person as an agent in human history in an effort to eliminate the illusion of the fringes.
Asante is known as “the Father of Afrocentrism.”
Africaness is not something that limits you to a corner of humanity…it expands you universally
Black Consciousness seeks to infuse the black community with a new-found pride in themselves, their efforts, their value systems, their culture, their religion and their outlook to life.
When I was going to school, I just wanted to be like everybody else. I would pull at my hair to try and get it to lie straight. America was where I would consume and absorb black culture, buy Ultra Sheen and watch 'Soul Train,' but I still had that weird in-between thing.
I come from an era of black pride, black power, my father riding around listening to James Brown singing, 'Say it loud: I'm black and I'm proud,' and people walking around with African medallions and Malcolm X hats.
I wanted Season 2 of Luke Cage to be Ice Cube's 'Death Certificate,' or Fugees' 'The Score,' or Public Enemy's 'It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back,' or my favorite, 'The Low End Theory' by A Tribe Called Quest.
I didn't have a brown-skinned superhero growing up who wore cornrows and who reflected the inner city where I come from in Philadelphia.
People have accused me of bleaching my skin, of getting a nose job. They squint at my mom, like, 'I didn't know Wendy was Asian.' I am black all day, honey pie. I am black and very proud.
The Afrocentric exploration of the black past only scratches the surface. A full examination of the ancestry of those who are referred to in the newspapers as blacks and African Americans must include Europe and Native America.
I grew up on Public Enemy, which had a message with great music behind it.
'Black Panther' has made me embrace my natural black hair. The representation of natural black hair in the film has made me reflect on myself.
I've had so many parents DM me on social media thanking me because I simply have dreadlocks, because their daughters wear dreadlocks and play with dreadlocks, and I'm like, 'Well why not? Let's do it.' It's really cool to be able to inspire the younger generation of kids of color that look like us.
'Smart, Funny and Black' is about celebrating, critiquing and learning about black culture, black history, and the black experience.
I was like other teenagers in the late 1960s; I too was very interested in having an Afro and getting rid of the perm that was in my hair.