Why was there no Black ‘Friend’?
In the politicized age of Black Lives Matter, there’s a growing sense that Black History Month — for all its well-intentioned focus on slave narratives and earnest proclamations by white people to do better — is a concept that has outlived its usefulness.
Black history, after all, isn’t some easily categorized subset like “Jazz Age Flappers” or “Netflix Series Starring Cobie Smulders.”
“Black history is Canadian history,” points out Kitchener Centre MPP Laura Mae Lindo.
“In K-12 education, we shouldn’t be fighting for Black experiences to be incorporated into the curriculum. We shouldn’t have to continually be fighting for real investment to address anti-Black racism in public schools. During a pandemic, we should not be begging for the Ministry of Health to invest in culturally responsive health-care options that centre Black communities disproportionately impacted by COVID-19.
“We need a recovery strategy that centres us. Because when you centre the most vulnerable communities, everyone wins.”
Part of that centring strategy, arguably, is pop culture, which contextualizes the music, film and TV shows that fill the void in our daily existence in ways that can help or hurt.
On this week’s community panel: singer/educator/politician Lindo, awardwinning R&B singer-songwriter/educator Carlos Morgan, social justice advocate/’80s TV fanatic Moraa Mochama. All of you have found a way to blend a love of pop culture with a socially activist bent. How do the two intertwine? Mochama: For me, it’s about what we’re doing when we aren’t fighting for basic rights, and it’s what we all do: watching TV or some streaming platform. My activism is about ensuring representation in the mediums that are supposed to be a reflection of our lives. To me, it’s important that Netflix has a catalogue of content created/directed by Black people; that CBC has kids programming with Indigenous characters; that TSN has women of colour as commentators, for the simple reason that you can’t be what you can’t see. What did you want to be?
Mochama: Sitting with my underemployed friends at Central Perk drinking coffee. But there never was a Black “Friend,” was there?
True, but there were Black characters on other shows: “The Jeffersons,” “Good Times,” “The Cosby Show.”
Mochama: I used to watch reruns of “The Cosby Show” and was amazed to see a show putting a Black family at the centre. A show where the mom was a lawyer and the dad was a doctor. “Cosby” and shows like “The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air” or, even more recently, “Blackish” were great at showing Black Excellence.
But when Black people are only shown in high-ranking jobs, those of us who aren’t experiencing that level of success are left feeling like failures.
Too one-dimensional? Mochama: We weren’t all meant to be doctors and lawyers. I’m all for Black Excellence — and shows in the ’80s and ’90s laid this foundation — but I’m also here for Black Mediocrity.
Oh boy, this sounds like a controversial concept.
Mochama: Yes, let’s show a Black woman being a lawyer like Claire Huxtable or a doctor like Bow Johnson. But why not a Black woman as a masseuse and playing guitar at the coffee shop like Phoebe Buffay? Or a terribly dressed interior designer like Grace Adler in “Will & Grace”? Or a radio producer with a tiny apartment and active sex life like Roz Doyle in “Frasier”? I watched all these shows and didn’t see someone that looked like me in the main cast. Imagine how different my life could have been. I could be playing guitar at Central Perk!
Laura Mae, as a singer with the world music Samba Squad before becoming as an anti-racism educator and activist politician, what’s the connection between music, education and social justice?
Lindo: It’s about thinking outside the box. Travelling with bands like Diego Marulanda & Pacande and singing with Stuart McLean and the Vinyl Cafe taught me about the power of music and creative thinking. My degrees allowed me to understand the difference that teaching with an equity lens can have on the most vulnerable students. I completed my Masters and PhD while I had young children and my partner was battling cancer. I was forced to learn rather quickly about what really mattered to me. And that was caring for people, putting as much love into the universe as humanly possible because you never really knew what anyone was going through. I don’t see myself so much as an “activist.” I see myself as someone who just really loves her community.
You’ve said that comedy taught you more about Black culture than school ever did.
Lindo: It wasn’t so much that comedy educated me about Black culture. It was more than comedy educated the world about Black Culture in a way that made sense to me.
How so?
Lindo: It was all about being an insider to the joke. You know that feeling when a musician is totally “in the pocket”?
That’s what it felt like when I was listening to Black stand up comedians like Dave Chappelle tell me about Orange Drink — vs. Orange Juice — and his white friend Chip. Or Paul Mooney talking about whiteness as the “complexion for the protection.” Or when Richard Pryor said he was hungry and didn’t want to give up a piece of his sandwich. My parents didn’t have to “teach” me why the jokes were funny. We all knew what the subtext was. We lived it.
You didn’t need to be educated about racism. You needed to survive it.
Lindo: We could laugh with folks like Redd Foxx and Richard Pryor because we all knew we weren’t the problem. We were superfly, superwise, superintelligent freedom fighters who would use laughter and love to change the world. And they did. And because they did, now we do too.
I may be misremembering, but wasn’t comedy the topic of your PhD thesis?
Lindo: I argued that comics who centred their comedy on race and racism were today’s anti-racist theorists. If teachers made use of the same techniques race comics did, they could find cool ways to talk about race and racism in the classroom that didn’t just make folks cry, but called them to challenge the systems that continue to dehumanize racialized people.
Carlos, your experience was eerily similar. As a kid growing up in the ’70s and ’80s, hip hop — not school — was the cornerstone of your education.
Morgan: I didn’t learn, nor was I and the Black community as a whole, taught Black History in school. The only thing most Black people were taught was about slavery and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. I learned about some of the biggest and greatest accomplishments Black people did, and not just for Black people, but for humanity and civilization, from listening to rap and hip hop. Public Enemy, X Clan, Boogie Down Productions, Sistah Souljah, Ice Cube, Brand Nubian, Queen Latifah, Intelligent Hoodlum. You completed a Master’s degree in Community Music at Wilfrid Laurier University with a thesis examining how contemporary hip-hop influences, informs and impacts youth. What did you learn? Morgan: My findings ranged from Black youth who outright rejected the use of “racialized” language, sexism, misogyny and violence to those who accepted but misappropriated it, espousing the “N-word.” And the reclamation of sexuality, especially among young women, in hip hop.
As I write this I’m thinking “But you won a freaking Juno Award for Best R&B/Soul Recording in 1997! Why take a left turn into academia?”
Morgan: Because I love education and want to merge it with parts of my music.
People are moved to take action, whether positively and, unfortunately, negatively, through music. I want to write music that addresses what’s going on in society in hopes it will be a catalyst for seeking knowledge and change.
Let’s talk formative influences. What are some Black cultural landmarks people should know about?
Morgan: “Red Tails” (2012 war drama starring Terrence Howard and Cuba Gooding Jr.) tells the true story of “The Tuskegee Airmen,” a group of Black fighter pilots who faced racism and fought and died with valour and strength, proving they were just as good as the white fighter pilots during World War II. “A Different World,” the ’90s sitcom that showed Black students pursuing higher learning at an all-Black university. And Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On,” one of the best albums of all time, with songs that address the social, racial and environmental issues we’re seeing so prevalently in our society today. Laura Mae, I know from our previous conversations that Spike Lee’s “Malcolm X” figures prominently on your “must see” list.
Lindo: It’s crucial viewing. And then read about it. And then remember that Brother Malcolm was assassinated on Feb. 21 by the state. And don’t just watch — reflect on what this must mean for Black communities who saw a leader in their community assassinated, one growing in his own faith and understanding of how to build a racially just society. And then think about who’s in your sphere of influence. Who can you talk to about these ideas? And about this advocacy? And about these murders? And about Black communities? And then talk to people about everything that you’ve learned. That’s how you do Black History Month!
What about “Black Panther”? I saw multiple copies in your house.
Lindo: YASSSSS! Wakanda Forever! Chadwick Boseman (who died of colon cancer in August) will forever remain a blessing to all of us for using his art to change narratives by telling our stories from our perspectives. Same goes for the late Cicely Tyson, who we just lost on Jan. 28. Black artists move mountains and break barriers and navigate systems in ways that challenge white supremacy both creatively and powerfully.
Does Boseman — who starred last year in “Da 5 Bloods” and “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” — deserve a posthumous Oscar?
Lindo: Oscars for everyone!
Morgan: Yes, especially for “Ma Rainey’s.” His character reminded me of the self-hatred, inferiority and loathing Black people feel and deal with daily, planted by racist, white supremacist messages that tells us we’re not good enough. What also hurt and saddened me most was when he took his anger out on his bandmate due to being used, exploited and robbed. That scene was very symbolic to me. Moraa, as the youngest member of this panel, you have a different set of cultural influences.
Mochama: Every Black woman who came of age in the early 2000s has watched “Love & Basketball” and been deeply impacted by it. Go ahead, ask a Black women born between 1980 and 1990 and watch the light shine in their eyes. It’s directed by a Black woman — Gina Prince-Blythewood — has a stellar all-Black cast, a killer soundtrack and my
favourite element, Black women rocking their natural hair! I can tell this was a big film for you.
Mochama: I recently rewatched it with my husband — who has never seen it, to my absolute shock — and recalled how much it shaped my teenage and young adult years. I was convinced at 13 that because I also played basketball, I was destined to meet the love of my life on a basketball court in much the same way the two main characters meet and fall in love, and not the dull office setting in industrial Waterloo where I actually met my husband.
In an unexpected turn, you also watched all seven seasons of “The Golden Girls.”
Mochama: What can I say? I love watching middle-aged white women excel at life. What about shows/movies that offend with misguided earnestness or flat-footed ineptitude?
Mochama: Oh man, where to begin? For me it’s any movie that has terrible African accents. I’m looking at you “Sahara,” starring Matthew McConaughey. You can’t tell me you’re having an adventure in Mali, then over the course of two hours feature the widest variety of African accents I’ve ever heard. To the untrained ear, sure they all sound the same, but as a child of the diaspora, I get so angry! A West African accent is different than an East African one, which is different from a South African one. When “Black Panther” came out in 2018, I was so nervous about the accent work. But once I watched it, I was overwhelmed with the perfection of those accents.
Lindo: What remains frustrating is the plethora of history programming that discusses slavery during Black History Month. Allow me to explain: Black people are not “slaves”. We were “enslaved.” And so I’m waiting for a time where we use February to talk about what anti-Black racism looks like today, how it’s connected to a system that continues to dehumanize us and ends with a call to action to do better.
How are we doing in Waterloo Region?
Lindo: Black culture in Waterloo Region is totally healthy. White supremacy is the problem. We need to make use of our power and privilege to challenge it. Look at the amazing work of the Association of Black Students at Wilfrid Laurier University. Do folks know they’ve been fighting anti-Black racism in education for over a decade? That’s Black Culture in Waterloo Region!
So this is a good news story? Lindo: Black leaders in our community continue to remind Black youth that no matter how hard the education system tries to push them out — nope, they don’t just “drop out” .... let’s do a Community Panel on that! — they will continue to be surrounded with the love, care and support they deserve.
Other than the three of you, who should be on a list of the region’s most important cultural flagships?
Morgan: Alysha Brilla, Rufus John, Joni NehRita, Laura Mae Lindo, Kevin Sutton, Salem Debs and Carla Beharry. As artists, activists and a politician, they exemplify talent, strength, outspokenness, speaking out against racism, bigotry and discrimination, speaking up for equality for the marginalized, and truth and justice for all.
Lindo: Blues guitarist Mel Brown and his wife Ms. Angel. What beautiful energy. With dignity and grace they have brought international attention to our region, and I don’t think we know enough about their amazing work.
Mochama: A to Z African & Caribbean Groceries, across the street from the GO Train Station! It’s name is deceiving because it carries so much more than groceries. When I moved to Kitchener-Waterloo eight years ago I was in desperate need of a place to buy hair extensions that aren’t carried in regular retail stores. I was so happy to see the entire basement of A to Z is an ENTIRE beauty supply store.
That’s a big endorsement. You’re not on their payroll, are you?
Mochama: Also, if you’ve looking for ingredients for African recipes, A to Z might have what you’re looking for. “Where the heck am I going to find dried crayfish and egusi in Waterloo?” A to Z, that’s where!