DECEMBER 2023 • ISSUE 13

ISSUE13

DEC2023

AFROFUTURISM From Kindred to Kizazi Moto

Behind The Scenes with Anedra Edwards

We Exist Tomorrow

Amira Tripp Folsom, p. 8

Yasmine Jaffier, p. 16

Gretchen Walker, p. 25

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TABLE OF CONTENTS FROM 4 LETTERS THE EDITORS

8 AFROFUTURISM 20 AFROCAMP

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22 CULTURE 34 MULTIMEDIA 44 35 AU EXCELLENCE

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EDITOR’S LETTER

Dear Reader,

Our goals for The Blackprint’s 13th magazine edition includes how AmeriThe mission of The Blackprint as highlighting University students, an online and print publication at can professors, and American University is to alumni, amplify the voices that were others are making contributions historically unheard and over- to Afrofuturism in their personlooked on this campus and al and professional lives, by in our broader society. Our adding to Afrofuturist converjob as journalists and write sations as well as providing a outlet on this rs at American University is creative for Black peoto capture the stories and im- campus portant events happening on ple to showcase how they our campus and in our local would reimagine the past community. With this in mind, The and future.

Blackprint issued a multitude of unique magazines and diverse Thank you to Amira, my dediarticles that added to our col- cated Co-Editor-in-Chief, as well lective story. We act as an ar- as Raven, Nicole, and Charichive of our time. We doc- ty for their hard work in making ument and describe what this theme come to life. I also students were doing at the want to thank my past Co-Edtime each story or mag- itors-in-Chiefs and Founders azine was published. for leaving behind a legacy for Black students on this campus, This semester, we, as Co-Ed- including myself. I am so grateitors-in-Chiefs, made a con- ful and in awe of all our section scious choice to not only writers and contributors to the document the stories of zine, as they have done a phepeople within our community, but nomenal job in capturing Afroalso to utilize a different tool – futurism on this campus and Afrofuturism. In the various in our broader cultural society. definitions and expressions of Afrofuturism, there I hope this edition of The Blackare common themes and Print’s magazine incentiviztenets, including Black es you all to learn more about liberation, revisioning the Afrofuturism and think about past and future for Black how it may apply to your life. people, and reclamation.

With Love,

Yasmine Jaffier

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EDITOR’S LETTER

Dear Reader, How can a people with a fragmented past imagine their future? When race itself is a creation of science fiction, we have the power to manipulate our own definitions of what Blackness is and how expansive it can be, and science fiction, art, and fantasy are some of the most powerful means to accomplish this. We chose Afrofuturism as the theme of The Blackprint’s 13th zine edition because it positions Black stories, ideas, and potential at the center of the narrative. Afrofuturism is not only a means of resistance and escapism, but a powerful mechanism for actively creating and mythologizing a future where all African-descended people sit beside everyone else with their full humanity intact. In this zine, you will find articles and interviews on Afrofuturism in literature, film, music, fashion, poetry, and in the home to many Black students on this campus: the African American and African Diaspora Studies Department.

members from knowing little about content creation to creating videos that highlight the beauty of our university’s Black community while bringing thousands of views to our social media. The BP is an environment that encourages you to grow, to be creative, and to build community out of shared passions for the work.

Putting this zine together has truly been a labor of love, and my heart is bursting because it has finally come to fruition in the most beautiful way.

My sincerest gratitude goes out to all of the past Editors-in-Chief who have created the space and paved the way for me and all of the other amazing writers and staff to feel like we belong here. I especially want to thank Festicia Bovell, for inviting me to join the Editorial Board, and Isaiah Washington, my fellow Frederick Douglass Distinguished Scholar and someone I have always looked up to, for choosing me to succeed him as Co-Editorin-Chief. It is truly an honor to now lead the organization that has been so dear to me throughout my entire To be Black is to be an artist, a creator college experience. To the embodiof your own destiny…Fresh out of ments of “AU Excellence,” our lovely lockdown, I joined The Blackprint as cover stars and interviewees, thank a sophomore to publish my podcast you for letting me pick your brains. I The Other Side of DC and continue sincerely appreciate your willingness writing and creating content about to share your light with the rest of our the issues and experiences that are community. To Yasmine, my dedicatimportant to me. Two and a half years ed Co-Editor-in-Chief, thank you for later, The BP has given me the plat- keeping me grounded throughout form to not only do this, but to act as a this process. To our amazing Editomentor and leader amongst my rial Board, writers, and staff, this truly peers. As the editor of multimedia would not have been possible withfor the past two years, I have had out your hard work, you are beautithe privilege of supporting my team ful and talented beyond measure.

With All My Love,

Amira Tripp Folsom

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I was eleven years old when my mother placed the book Kindred by Octavia Butler in my hands and instructed me to read it. Like most children and teens in the 2010s era, I was an avid reader of young adult dystopian novels where the teen protagonist saves their world or society from corrupt and oppressive forces. Yet as a young Black girl, I rarely saw myself represented in these fantastical and heroic narratives. Having torn through the likes of The Hunger Games, Divergent, and The 100 in weeks, my mother deemed me prepared to digest the graphic and unsettling histories contained in Kindred. Immediately enamored with Butler’s writing and world-building, like Kindred’s time-traveling protagonist Dana, I was transported into the antebellum American South and witnessed the brutal realities of American chattel slavery in literature for the first time in my life. Reading this novel was pivotal in the greater context of my life as during this time the Black Lives Matter movement was in its infancy. Having been the same age as Tamir Rice when he was gunned down by police in cold blood, I was consumed with fear that I or my younger brother would meet the same fate; however, reading Octavia Butler’s writing ingrained in my young mind that I am not powerless in determining my life’s outcome.

Photo by Charity Arrington

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One decade later, I stand within inches of Butler’s handwritten manuscript notes for Kindred and the typewriter she wrote it with on display in the National Museum of African American History and Culture’s Afrofuturism: A History of Black Futures exhibition. Despite writing Kindred and other seminal works of science fiction such as Wild Seed and Mind of My Mind over a decade before cultural critic Mark Dery coined the term Afrofuturism, Octavia Butler’s revolutionary writings have led her to be dubbed the “Mother of Afrofuturism” by the museum for blazing the trail of what Dery defined as “speculative fiction that treats African-American themes and concerns in the context of 20th-century techno-culture and more generally African American signification that appropriates images of technology and a prosthetically enhanced future” in his 1993 essay “Black to the Future.”

Inspired by the exhibition, I will be discussing a few of the pioneers and history makers within the genre who created new worlds to surpass the limitations of their present realities.

Photos by Amira Tripp Folsom

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Phillis Wheatley, an enslaved Senegambian woman, became the first published African-American poet at the age of 14. Her verses transcended the oppression of her enslavement, becoming a powerful form of resistance and self-expression. Wheatley’s work laid the foundation for future poets to explore the interplay between history, identity, and the limitless possibilities of the future. Sun Ra, a jazz musician and bandleader, crafted a cosmic mythology that combined science fiction and ancient Egyptian mysticism. George Clinton and his bands Parliament and Funkadelic incorporated futuristic themes and imagery into their funk music, creating a genre known as P-Funk that embraced Afrofuturist concepts as a means of imagining Black people in places such as outer space that have been deemed impossible for us to exist. Janelle Monae, a contemporary musician and actor, has been a powerful force in popularizing Afrofuturism in the 21st century. Their albums, such as The ArchAndroid (2010) and Dirty Computer (2018), incorporate dystopian science fiction elements and explore themes of identity, freedom, and societal transformation.

Monae’s music and visuals challenge conventional norms, and their persona embodies the essence of Afrofuturism.

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Nichelle Nichols, who portrayed Lieutenant Uhura in the original Star Trek (1966) series, inspired multiple generations of Black astronauts, including Trayvon Martin, whose space camp suit was on display in the exhibition right next to her costume. Her character’s presence on the show broke racial barriers, demonstrating a future where diversity and inclusion were not just possible but essential. Black Panther (2018), the groundbreaking Marvel film directed by Ryan Coogler, brought Afrofuturism to the mainstream.

The movie’s depiction of Wakanda, a technologically advanced African nation, captivated audiences worldwide. It showed that Afrofuturism could be a powerful force in shaping popular culture and influencing conversations about identity, representation, and empowerment.

Photos by Amira Tripp Folsom

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Two of my personal favorite examples of Afrofuturism in contemporary arts and culture not featured in the NMAAHC Exhibition are Beyoncé’s Renaissance (2022) and the Disney+ animated anthology series Kizazi Moto: Generation Fire (2023) which was executive-produced by the Oscar-winning director of Spiderman: Into the Spiderverse Peter Ramsey. Recorded amid a global pandemic, Beyonce’s Renaissance album and tour unleashed a magnitude of collective joy and celebration unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. Renaissance illustrated the global star’s embrace of Afrofuturism, and with lyrics like “I’m too classy for this world” and “you won’t break my soul,” she explores themes of Black female identity and resilience. The entire album pays homage to the Black LGBTQ+ community that has helped shape her career, with the most notable dedication being to her Uncle Johnny who was responsible for designing much of her wardrobe when she was an up-and-coming singer.

Fortunate enough to attend the 2023 Renaissance World Tour, I was blown away by her visually stunning performances which incorporated elements of cosmology, mythology, robotic technology, African-American culture, and Harlem ballroom culture, merging the past, present, and future into a single mesmerizing narrative. Kizazi Moto introduces younger generations to Afrofuturism, presenting a collection of young and heroic African protagonists from Uganda, Nigeria, South Africa, Zimbabwe, Egypt, and Kenya set fifty to hundreds of years in the future. The series leverages one of the most underrated mediums to showcase a diverse range of characters and cultures, and animation artists and storytellers who explore Afrofuturism’s themes of liberation, identity, and the fusion of technology and spirituality. To quote the series’ description: “This is Africa as you’ve never seen it before,” and my only gripe with Kizazi Moto is that there isn’t more of it. Two episodes I highly recommend giving a watch are “Enkai” and “You Give Me Heart,” but really, you should watch the entire series. Both Renaissance and Kizazi Moto speak to the growing influence and creative power of Afrofuturism in contemporary culture and performance.

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Harkening back to the work of the “Mother of Afrofuturism,” I will forever be indebted to Octavia Butler and the many great contributors to the genre of Afrofuturism for daring to not only foresee but to create a future beyond what was intended for Black people in the United States and across the African Diaspora: enslavement and death. Afrofuturism empowers Black people to envision a future where Black voices hold value, Black stories are told, and Black lives not only matter but are celebrated.

Butler once wrote in her journal in 1999, “I never bought into my invisibility or non-existence as a Black person. As a female and as an African-American, I wrote myself into the world. I wrote myself into the present, the future, and the past,” and as Black writers, creatives, and academics, we must continue to follow in her footsteps.

Afrofuturism is a living and ever-evolving testament to the power of this self-determined narrative, and as long as we continue to create, it will continue to inspire generations to dream, create, and redefine their histories and their futures.

Photo by Charity Arrington

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Since being coined by scholar Mark Dery in 1993, the concept of Afrofuturism has developed into a constantly-evolving movement that reimagines a utopian future for Black Americans through science, technology, and art.

One of the artistic mediums of Afrofuturism has expanded into is the fashion industry.

Afrofuturism has become a popular aesthetic within fashion, aiming to incorporate patterns and fabric to celebrate the African diaspora’s rich culture whilst simultaneously representing the power of reimagination.

Two Black fashion designers who have set the stage for Afrofuturism are:

selly raby kane

range of clientele in countries such as Italy, Senegal, and France. Her mission with her brand and any piece of clothing she creates is to create crosscultural, individualistic designs that have a sci-fi, futuristic aspect to it.

Selly Raby Kane is a well-renowned Senegalese fashion designer. Kane has a self-named clothing brand titled “SRK” in which many of her designs incorporate traditional West African clothing styles--particularly from her hometown Dakar, Sen- A uniform concept seen in many of Kane’s egal--with futuristic and sus- designs is the concept of cultural remixing, tainable elements as well. which is the fusion of “diverse design application techniques, fabrics, stylistic elements, According to an article writ- and visual cues.” An example of this concept ten for Fashion Studies, is seen in some of Kane’s designs for her Fall/ Kane’s approach to fashion Winter 2015 collection titled “City of Birds.” As serves as a means to “claim seen in the picture on the right, a summera cosmopolitan African time caftan Kane designed incorporates the identity” that is based on preferred loose-fitting clothing seen in tradiher experiences growing up tional Senegalese and West African clothing, in Dakar, Senegal and living and also includes prints of the “speedbird;” a abroad. She launched her native African bird commonly seen across first fashion line in 2008 after different cultures throughout West Africa. dropping out of law school to enroll in Pari’s Mod’Spe School of Fashion. Since then, Kane has become a well-respected designer globally,attracting a wide

a point where you have to actually use the research as a resource and Ruth E. Carter is an Academy then gather the fabrics and realize award-winning American costume it.” designer with over 30 years of experience designing costumes for film Carter is most known for her cosand television. Her costume special- tume designs for “Black Panther” ty is creating Afrofuturistic costume and “Black Panther: Wakanda pieces that tell the rich, multi-dimen- Forever.” In a podcast interview with sional stories of Black Americans. the Public Broadcasting Service Network for the podcast American According to Carter, her afrofuturistic Aspects: Creative Spark, Carter designs are rooted in extensive goes into detail about the process research she does, of creating the Afrofuturistic-like which is a “slow and costumes for both Black Panther patient process movies. “We explored 12 tribes that cannot be for Wakanda and I had to go into rushed.” Aspects research books and look at the Inof research for the digenous tribes of Africa in order to costumes she actually see the details,” Carter excreates include plained. “The research of costumes reading about or the research of dress, actually different time does have its own story because it periods, “speak- lived in a different time. It tells you ing to historians.. about fabric choices and maybe old and learning techniques.” about innovative or ancient design Carter won two Oscars in the Costechniques that tume Design category for her work can enhance the in “Black Panther” and “Wakanda costume. Forever,” making history as the first “​​In Malcolm X, I got to explore a lot African-American to win in this Osof the photographers of the different car category. times. We went from the ‘20s all the way to the ‘60s,” Carter said. “You Since the mid-20th century, Afrowant these images to just kind of futuristic elements in fashion have emerge off the page. But there comes continued to challenge traditional, European influences and standards of beauty in the fashion industry. It allows for Black Americans to practice self-expression whilst giving them the opportunity to explore and reconnect with their ancestral heritage and roots. Fashion designers such as Carter and Kane and their incredible contributions to society will continue to give Afrofuturism the platform it deserves in the fashion industry.

ruth e. carter

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Photo provided by Anedra Edwards

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As one watches Black The recognition and Panther: Wakanda awards of these individForever, one is filled with a mix of emotions, including grief, loss, and a glimmer of hope. Once all the scenes are over and the screen begins to fade, the lights gradually brighten and the credits begin to roll.

The first credits seen are of the director and actors of the film, but have you ever wondered about the extensive list of positions and names following?

The Black Panther franchise is credited towards having the “biggest depiction of Afrofuturism in popular culture,” incentivizing viewers to examine history and the traditions that emerged out of the time (Stitch, 2023). The success of the franchise is often credited towards Ryan Coogler, the director of Black Panther and Black Panther: Wakanda Forever, who TIME named No. 6 on their short list of Person of the Year in 2018 (Dockterman, 2018). A multitude of actors and actresses also helped the movie come alive, such as Angela Bassett, who historically won a Golden Globe Award for Best Supporting Actress for Motion Picture; Bassett became the first actor to “win a majorindividualactingaward for a movie based on Marvel Comics” (Vary, 2023).

uals are well deserved, as the movie received “84% Rotten Tomatoes and A-grade Cinemascore” from acclaimed critics and audiences (Hughes, 2023).

Yet, what about the people who appear at the end of the movie credits and who worked behind-thescenes to contribute to the movie and Afrofuturism but may be unbeknownst to the masses? Visual effects editor, Anedra Edwards, joins the BlackPrint in an interview to discuss her experience as a visual effects editor on projects that contribute to Afrofuturism.

Anedra

Edwards,

alumna of American University School of Communication, is a visual effects editor who worked on Black Panther: Wakanda Forever, Black Lightning, and Wanda Vision, amongst other projects. Her work as a visual effects editor earned Edwards and her team multiple Oscar nominations for Black Panther: Wakanda Forever. In addition to her Oscar nominations, Edwards was recognized as one of the 2023 Ebony Eagles of Excellence Honorees, and Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Incorporated, Xi Omega Chapter’s Trailblazers.

VFX EDITOR

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BLACKPRINT: How did your journey start in visual effects editing?

ANEDRA That specific part of editing, I got into when I moved to Los EDWARDS: Angeles, California in 2016. I have been in editorial since I was 22, and I started working in news. I was associate producer and editor for NBC Channel 4 News in DC, where I started my first professional editing position. Leaving news, I have been on a journey. Once I felt that news was not necessarily where I wanted to go, I went to graduate school at American University. This is where I started to work with other networks, such as National Geographic Channel and Discovery Channel. I started in editorial departments, and once I gained a lot of experience, I decided to make the jump to Los Angeles to work on bigger, scripted content.

Once I moved to [Los Angeles], that is when I discovered the very niche career of visual effects editing.

BP: What intrigued you about visual effects?

AE: I really liked working in the superhero space, and visual effects is a prominent position in those types of storytelling. I had the opportunity to work [on projects] I was accustomed to watching, which made it really exciting. I was blessed to work in visual effects with African Americans being the central characters of the stories. I am doing visual effects with people who look like my aunts, uncles, cousins, and sisters.

Also, learning the large world that is visual effects, [you learn] it’s not just me as a visual effects editor as we work largely with artists and producers within visual effects. In all, what made it really fun for me is that visual effects was an entry way into the superhero space for storytelling.

BP: How did your experience with reality television lead to your experience working on movies and television shows that contribute to Afrofuturism?

AE: It is all storytelling. It all starts with a story, and whether you are telling a story about us, other people, or about our human existence, it is all based in Act One, Act Two, and Act Three. A lot of [transferrable] skills occur in the cutting room, and for me being an editor, you are a technical asset to a film or television show. You have all these technical computer skills that you are using to morph and create the story in the sequence in which you see it in its final form. A lot of those skills can carry over in a lot of [different] types of storytelling. Once you start working in the fantasy world, you are working with much larger budgets, so now you are working with people who are also masters of their craft in costuming or props.

Photo provided by Anedra Edwards

BP: What contributions do you believe the projects you worked on made to Afrofuturism? How do you believe you have assisted your team in these contributions?

AE: The films we are seeing today, such as Black Panther and Black Lightning, have a sense of realism that looks like it could really be happening outside of my door. Taking not only what we are able to create, but also the creators having access to information, to history, and to the stories that have not been told in that way gives audiences more access to those stories. Giving directors such as Ryan Coogler the opportunities to tell those stories, and the dollars behind them to make them real, allows us to not see the same old stories be done. Also, a commitment to have the culture get it right benefits more picture studios. Stories of the African Diaspora have so many parts that still have not been told. It makes it exciting for stories now, especially when different generations are [telling stories] that they grew up with but never saw on screen. We are taking [those stories] and molding them. For me, it is really exciting to watch and be a part of [the storytelling]. This is a foundational stone for more stories to come across the African Diaspora.

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Photos by @hellhankringer on Instagram

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AU’s African Student Organization

Afrocamp Fashion Show This fashion show allowed designers to showcase their African print designs by mixing them with contemporary fashion to create an “African camp” look.

The purpose was to demonstrate that traditional African print can complement modern fashion and to give a platform to local African designers in the DMV. Oni Chaytor

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The most popular genres

boxed in Black narratives. for Black movies are draCan we envision Black life as ma, comedy, and romance. something more than the past These genres, when exand present, extending into plored in depth, have given the future? Why is this envius memorable films such as sioning often a challenge?

“American Gangster,” “White Chicks,” and “Poetic Justice.”

“They Cloned Tyrone” is set On the other hand, some of in a lower-income, predomiJuel Taylor the less popular genres for nantly Black, suburban neighBlack movies are sci-fi, ac- The film’s development start- borhood known as the Glen. tion, and horror. In this arti- ed with a screenplay from It incorporates elements cle, we will delve into the un- the Blacklist of popular but reminiscent of the 1970s-era derproduction of Black sci-fi. unproduced scripts. It has been “Blaxploitation” genre, alcredited for its genre-bend- though the exact time remains For decades, science fiction ing approach, exploring sci- undisclosed. In this commuhas faced criticism for its lack ence fiction, comedy, satire, nity, we are introduced to varof diversity. According to BBC and mystery, all while delv- ious characters, including the data, among the top 100 high- ing into inner-city conspiracy main character Fontaine, a est-grossing films, only eight and the concept of black ex- drug dealer dealing with the feature non-white protago- ploitation. The film is heavily loss of his younger brother nists, with Will Smith being influenced by Afrofuturism. to police brutality. Other relethe lead in six of them. While vant characters include Slick Will Smith is celebrated by Afrofuturism may be an unfa- Charles, one of Fontaine’s many, it raises the question of miliar term for many, but it’s customers who also works whether there’s more to sci-fi not an entirely uncharted ter- as a pimp, and Yo-Yo, one of and Black movies than white ritory. Movies like “Black Pan- Slick Charles’ sex workers. protagonists and Mr. Smith. ther,” “Sorry to Bother You” and “See You Yesterday” pro- The movie delves into conPerhaps there is more, and vide glimpses into the world cepts like cloning, experithis is where one of the new- of Afrofuturism. In essence, mentation, and paranoia. est Black sci-fi films comes Afrofuturism explores ele- Although the concept of exinto play. Let’s discuss “They ments of Black identity and perimentation and conspiraCloned Tyrone.” This Netflix freedom through various me- cies may seem far-fetched, original, released on June 14, diums such as art, film, mu- it’s not entirely alien. Various 2023, is a Black sci-fi movie sic, and activism, envisioning conspiracy theories, such as directed by Juel Taylor and liberated futures for Black life. those involving a flat Earth or written by Juel Taylor and The complexity of this term Tony Rettenmaier. Juel Tay- in a society with ever-growlor is a writer, director, and ing Black representation sound engineer known for may stem from the fact that significant contributions to genres like drama, comefilms such as “Creed II” and dy, and romance have often “Space Jam: A New Legacy.”

They Cloned Tyrone (2023)

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government bodies composed of lizards, are well-known.

Some conspiracies and beliefs held by Black people may be about the government’s relationship to our communities.

And the theories of experimentation and testing in Black and lower-income communities are not as improbable as one might think.

Historically, Black communities have endured experimentation and exploitation, serving as a painful reminder of the systemic injustices they have faced. Before the Civil War, enslaved people were subjected to horrific experiments involving electric shocks, amputations, and brain surgeries. These inhumane practices reveal the depths of cruelty that Black individuals have endured throughout history. In 1932, 600 men in Tuskegee, Alabama, unknowingly participated in an experiment observing the untreated syphilis’s natural history, underlining the betrayal and disregard for their well-being.

These men were misled into believing they were receiving treatment for “bad blood.”

Additionally, Dr. James Marion Sims, generally considered the father of gynecology, conducted experimental gynecological surgery exclusively on Black women, often using coercion, physical force, and opium, highlighting the disturbing history of medical exploitation within the Black community.

More recently, the city of Philadelphia publicly acknowledged and apologized for permitting the University of Pennsylvania to perform decades of experimentation on Black inmates. These experiments involved exposing them to various viruses, fungi, and chemical agents from the 1950s to the 1970s. These instances demonstrate the enduring legacy of distrust and mistreatment faced by Black individuals, emphasizing the importance of discussing these issues in the context of “They Cloned Tyrone.”

“They Cloned Tyrone” brilliantly uses science fiction to tap into common fears, conspiracies, and paranoia that resonate with many Black individuals, who have legitimate historical reasons for their mistrust of medical and government institutions. This connection to the history of Black experimentation in the United States

and the enduring legacy of mistrust is a central theme of the film, shedding light on the impact of these painful past experiences on contemporary perceptions and beliefs within the Black community.

Throughout the film, we encounter various elements, such as a white powdery substance that induces laughter and its connection to fast food addiction. This portrayal reflects the subtle ways in which societal factors, including diet and substance use, can be intertwined with racial stereotypes, particularly those affecting the Black community. There’s also music’s ability to control emotions and its potential influence on behavior, showcasing how cultural elements can shape perceptions and experiences. The film raises concerns about the use of a perm and relaxing cream as a tool for mind control, reflecting on the impact of beauty standards on Black women and how these standards can be weaponized against them. Lastly, the film explores how the church can sometimes be used to impose complacency on its members, highlighting the ways in which religious institutions have been both a source of support and control in the lives of Black individuals.

These connections to Black stereotypes and cultural points are important because they help to underscore the pervasive nature of these stereotypes and the significance of challenging them in modern society.

“They Cloned Tyrone” is a significant achievement in Black cinema, breaking away from traditional genre boundaries and bringing Afrofuturism into the spotlight. It challenges deeply ingrained stereotypes, critiques the film industry’s lack of diversity, and paves the way for more inclusive storytelling. The film’s power lies in its ability to spark critical discussions on these vital topics, inviting viewers to ponder a future where Black experiences are not confined by stereotypes or limitations and where stories can be as diverse and nuanced as the communities they represent. The film acts as a beacon of change and empowerment, encouraging a reimagining of the narrative landscape in cinema to ensure it better reflects the rich and multifaceted experiences of Black individuals.

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Photo by Charity Arrington

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P opular Afrofuturist media focuses on what seems to be impossible; incred-

ibly advanced technology, an African continent that was never colonized. Not to say that this re-imagining of history isn’t important, because it is. In a world where we are constantly surrounded by struggle, it’s nice to imagine a world where we ultimately overcome. However, the current landscape of film has led its audience to believe that there hasn’t been any advancement. Then in 2016, Jordan Peele released his debut film Get Out, changing the landscape of cinema with its critique of white neoliberalism and allyship. He won an Oscar for Best Original Screenplay for his work and hasn’t let up since, releasing horror films Us and Nope, both to critical acclaim. One key point to his work is that all of his protagonists are Black, and in a genre where Black people are killed off first, this is groundbreaking.

Jordan Peele doesn’t change the past to envision a new future for his characters.

He grounds his stories in the present day, because as nice as it would be, Peele knows he can’t change the past.

His subtle use of Afrofuturism and its themes explore the complex problems faced by Black people in modern America. None of his films end without some form of comeuppance for the protagonist. While all of his films have some science fiction element, the true future Peele explores in his films is immediate.

All Black people in his universes are able to live and see another day. This is the everyday Afrofuturism that Peele creates. Each character’s Blackness is essential to the plot, but it’s never a death sentence.

Peele’s first feature film, Get Out, is a perfect example of this idea. The idea of the stolen Black body is integral to Afrofuturism. Earlier media may present this idea in its most extreme form — a literal alien abduction of Black bodies (Brother From Another Planet and Octavia Butler’s Kindred come to mind).

Peele’s Get Out takes a softer and scarier approach. The haunting image of Chris (Daniel Kaluuya) floating away in his own mind is reminiscent of the many ways Black bodies have been bought and sold. Chris is powerless in that moment, even before he’s hypnotized. The dainty porcelain teacup Missy (Catherine Keener) holds directly contrasts her true intentions. Usually a symbol of civility and refinement, the cup becomes a form of violence in her hands.

Missy’s character is a stand-in for all of the liberal white women who have ultimately committed the same violence as their conservative and/or male counterparts. He doesn’t let his white audience shift the blame to

centuries old enslavers.

Instead, he forces them to be uncomfortable and consider their place in this cycle.

All three dominant themes of Afrofuturism — reclamation, liberation, and speculative fiction — can all be found in Peele’s sophomore film, Us. The movie follows Adelaide (Lupita Nyong’o) and her family as they fight against their doppelgangers in a supposed takeover attack. Out of all three of his movies, Us leans the most into the science fiction genre Afrofutur-

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-ism is generally associated with.

The opening of the movie tells the viewer that there’s a sprawling system of tunnels under the United States and poses a question: “What if the U.S. government created copies of its citizens in these tunnels?”

It’s explained that the government sought to control the above ground population, and the copies failed to capture the true human soul. The “tethered,” as these doppelgangers are referred to, serve as a metaphor for the double consciousness Black Americans exist in within the United States, an idea first explored by W.E.B. DuBois in The Souls of Black Folk. Peele’s subtle commentary on class and privilege explore another key theme in Afrofuturism — intersectionality. At its core, Us is a film about reclaiming what’s rightfully yours. For Black America, this means reclaiming a sense of African identity that was taken from us over four hundred years ago. Exploring the ways in which the Transatlantic slave trade has affected the diaspora

is a major part of Afrofuturism as well. When Adelaide and her doppelganger Red first meet,Red tells her that she’s also an American, despite the fact she’s been cast aside and forgotten. This is a clear allegory for not only race but class. Red and the tethered are victims of a system that hasn’t cared about them since its inception. Once they were of no use to the government they were discarded. Despite this, there’s a shared piece of history that connects them to their above ground brothers and sisters.

sisters. Peele’s films are never overtly about race or the horrors of racism. They serve as important context, yes, but Peele understands how to terrify his audience past that history. Cosmic horror and body doubles can be scary to everyone, and by creating films with all Black casts, Peele argues that those kinds of stories shouldn’t be limited to white characters. Peele is helping advance the film industry past the Black trauma films that have flooded the landscape in the past twenty years. Stories involving Black people can and should be more than how horrible it is to be Black in America. Jordan Peele’s use of Afrofuturism is expanding the horror genre and what it can be. In a genre where Black people have historically been picked off first, his stories show us we have a place in the

past, FUTURE, and most importantly,

the

PRESENT. Photo by Charity Arrington

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The term Afrofuturism was introduced by

writer, Mark Dery, and is described as an African-centric genre that uses science fiction and liberation to create an aesthetic which focuses on the history of the Black diaspora and creates a future of technological advancement and spiritual escapism from historical and current realities such as slavery and the Civil Rights Movement. A mixture of culture, science fiction, art, fashion, and music, Afrofuturism allows the Black community to conceive a reality where Black people are liberated to live without limitation. Beyonce’s album Renaissance showcases this same personal freedom and resilience. “It allowed me to feel free and adventurous in a time when little else was moving,” Beyonce said on an Instagram post announcing the Renaissance album.

Beyonce dedicated Renaissance to her Uncle Johnny, who died of HIV. He encouraged and introduced her to a variety of music genres that influence “My intention was to create a safe place, a place without judgment. A place to be free of perfectionism and overthinking. A place to scream, release, feel freedom.” her music. She pays tribute to Johnny in the song “Heated” by referencing how he designed Destiny’s Child outfits. Renaissance serves as a letter of admiration to Black queer people, ballroom or ball culture, and queer artists such as Honey Dijon, Telfar Clemons and Moi Renee. People who have paved the way for Beyonce and others that come after her. Multiple songs in the album sample or feature trans, queer, and ballroom icons, including Kevin Aviance, a legendary drag queen, and Kevin JZ Prodigy, a ballroom commenter, who are icons in Ballroom and vogue scene and the voices in the intro to the song “Pure/Honey.” Renaissance is also an acknowledgement of the current civil issues concerning LGBTQ+ rights being debated in the United States and the growing negative political sentiment toward the LGBTQ+ community who are a significant segment of her fanbase.

Anita Henderson

and “Alien Superstar,” are songs that have become anthems of the Renaissance movement that help bring about pride in identity in queer Black communities.

These songs emphasize aspects of Afrofuturism, including reclamation, liberation, and technology. Beyonce is perhaps the most famous but not the first artist to bring Afrofuturism to mainstream audiences.

Since the release of Renaissance, Beyonce joined the ranks of other Afrofuturist artists that include Janelle Monae, Funkadelic, Erykah Badu, Grace Jones, Solange Knowles, and Janet Jackson. Many of these artists Beyonce mentions in her song “Break My Soul,” to acknowledge the impact they had on the music industry.

What separates the Renaissance from other Afrofuturistic works is the community engagement in Afrofuturistic themes for the tour. Attendees from the first concert in Stockholm to the last concert in Kentucky, dressed up and out for Beyonce.

Some came as futuristic cowboys, aliens, all manner of silver and gold innovative outfits and a literal disco ball. Attendees of the Renaissance tour were fully engaged in Afrofuturism if they knew it or not. Beyonce invited the world to participate in the Afrofuturistic style. The visuals of Renaissance are a mix of cyber disco with elements of camp, which is described as theatrical, exaggerated, and playful. The world was stunned with the appearance of Beyonce singing “Summer Renaissance” decorated in a bedazzled silver cape flying around the arena sitting on a disco horse.

With two robotic arms twirling around her as she dances and sings to “Cozy,” she creates visuals that showcase the futuristic aesthetic.

Afrofuturism explores the possibilities of the future. Through storytelling, imagery, and music Afrofuturism unites the Black diaspora with science fiction and innovation. Renaissance is an exploration of culture and technology, creating a space where the future is full of belong“America Has a Problem,” “Pure/Honey,” ing. and the celebration of differences.

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Afrofuturism is defined by the highly recognized

Tate Modern Art Museum as a “cultural aesthetic that combines science fiction, history, and fantasy to explore the African-American experience and aims to connect those from the Black diaspora with their forgotten African ancestors.” This definition has been expressed in different media throughout time, one of the most popular ways is through music, especially with the rise of afrobeat as a genre. This genre has been highly accepted and popularized across the world, but the history of the music has been long overlooked. To understand the complexity and importance of the modern, electronic Afrobeats, the roots in Afrobeat music as a means of political West African expression must first be brought to light.

Afrofuturism in music traces its

origins back to the songs sung

by enslaved individuals working

in fields, who brought with them a spiritual connection to the sky from West Africa.

This “skywatching” culture persisted in North America, with enslaved people looking to the stars as a symbol of hope for freedom. These songs became integral to African-American culture’s development. As freedom was granted to enslaved individuals, their music evolved from a means of survival to a source of enjoyment, yet their hope for a better future endured. The early 19002 saw the emergence of gospel and blues as primary outlets for expressing the African-American experience, emphasizing themes of equality and happiness.

The integration of gospel and blues with early jazz allowed for greater creative expression. Jass, initially seen as a music for both Black and white communities underwent a significant change in the 1960s during the civil rights movement.

Jazz became a platform for addressing issues related to oppression, class, and the government embodying Afrofuturism intent. In the 1950s, the United States embraced rock and roll, leading to experimentation with traditional chord progressions, instruments, and sounds.

This experimentation ultimately gave birth to funk music, marking a significant shift in musical expression.

Funk

Photo by Charity Arrington

was

different.

It was colorful, it was loud, it was in your face, unapologetic, and most importantly, political. Funk drew on the work of Black revolutionaries across the country to create ties between the creative and the political world.

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AFROFUTURISM has touched every part of art and culture.

This is where we get the earliest development of Afrobeat music, spearheaded

by Fela Kuti: a Nigerian musician and political activist. Fela pulled political inspiration from the same radicals as the funk movement. Notably, he looked to the Black Panther movement as inspiration when writing about the military dictatorship in Nigeria. This music is coined as Afrobeat music because it relies on the traditional West African sound but is completely different from Afrobeats (with an s). Afrobeat was openly political and sounded more orchestral than Afrobeats of today. Afrobeats came as an offshoot of the Afrobeat movement.

Fela eventually came to visit the US to meet with political activists such as MLK, Angela Davis, and Malcolm X. While there, he became exposed to the sound of funk and fell in love. Quickly, his music started to pull on artists like James Brown who was still making political music, but with a dependence on the traditions of American funk. After that, Fela helped produce and write with the American rock band Talking Heads introducing Afrobeat to white America.

Fela returned to Nigeria, but his sound left an impact and he became someone that the funk movement continued to sample during the transition to R&B and hip-hop. Afrobeat was now fully integrated into the African-American music scene. In 2008, Fela’s life story got picked up to be a jukebox musical produced and remixed by Jay-Z, a hip-hop artist who had already made a name for himself. While he was working on Fela’s story, teens in West Africa began adopting the sounds of American hip-hop, and over the next two years, Afrobeats began to emerge as a new, fresh take on both American and Nigerian music.

The music developed by these individuals continued to use traditional instruments but mixed them with a new electronic sound that relied heavily on percussion and bass. Due to its roots in American hip-hop, the music was almost unintentionally political, creating a statement of young African identity. Almost overnight, the sounds of Burna Boy, Wizkid, Tems, and so many other artists started to break into the global music scene. The spread does not just come from the popularity of the music, but also the wave of diffusion of West Africans to Western countries in recent years.

These West African individuals move to places like Atlanta, D.C., and London, and bring their cultures with them to share openly and proudly. This created another layer of political understanding because it represented the continued fight for minorities to be allowed to take up space in traditionally white spaces that they previously were not welcomed in.

Afrofuturism has touched every part of art and culture, but its way of working through music has managed to create a bridge connecting two worlds that were once one. The emergence of Afrobeats as a popular form of music has provided generations of people with a look into what their life could have been like if their ancestors were not taken from their homes and moved to the US. It mended the invisible strings between West Africa and Black Americans, that the African-American community needed to continue their fight for overall racial equality. Afrobeats have ignited a fire in the younger generations to keep looking to the stars and keep reimagining what their future could look like.

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Since the birth of Afrofuturism, out- legislation have the power to make acer space has consistently served as a cessto this space possible; gentrifica metaphor for the social and economic progress of Black people. While affordable and accessible ground space continues to be an issue across many U.S. cities, Afrofuturism allows us to envision a future in which access to space exists beyond any planetary boundaries. A Tribe Called Quest’s final album, “We Got it From Here...Thank Your 4 Your Service,” explores this concept over masterful wordplay and beats.

The groundbreaking project, released just a few days after the 2016 presidential election, is a time capsule of the era, from election references (“We The People”), memories and moments by and of the late, great rapper Malik “Phife Dawg” Taylor (“Movin’ Backwards”), and calls to action about the social and political state of the U.S. (“The Space Program”).

“The Space Program” is the album’s clearest nod to Afrofuturism, with mentions of “vessels overflowing [to space]” and a “space program” (or lack thereof) for Black people. On the surface, the song’s reference to space and a “space program” is exactly what it seems. The plan is to get mankind on the moon, to reach the stars and what lies “beyond” our planet’s atmosphere. Modern technology, such as spaceships and rockets, make access to this space possible, though unattainable to most.

The real “space” in “The Space Program,” however, is the opposite of our current geographical reality in which “beyond” does not exist for many Black people to live and thrive in. “Beyond” is green spaces, walkable cities, and affordable housing. “Beyond” is the opposite of displacement. Action and

tion, redlining, and lack of affordable housing, amongst many other barriers, make it unattainable to most.

The song allows us to imagine a world unaffected by space issues, even if for a moment. This vision is brought to life in the music video for “The Space Program,” in which we see Q-Tip, Ali Shaheed Muhammed, and Jarobi White “move on to the stars” (as the song’s refrain says) when they land in a vessel on a planet uninhabited by mankind.

The end of the video spotlights Q-Tip as he attempts to get the group out of the locked vessel. Images of the frontrunner attempting to break the vessel door with a crowbar are crosscut with images of the vessel’s oxygen reserve meter flashing a “critical warning” sign.

Finally reaching 0%, the meter displays the phrase ‘I can’t breathe’ and we see Q-Tip collapse. The phrase is not only an indicator of Q-Tip’s physical state, but also a nod to the last words spoken by Eric Garner, an unarmed Black man who died after being placed in a chokehold by a New York City Police Department officer in 2014.

The group’s story, like those of many Black activists who have consistently fought for the rights of Black and other marginalized people throughout history, does not end there. As the song’s chorus crescendos, we hear Q-Tip and Phife Dawg repeatedly call on listeners to “make something happen.” This call for action is accompanied by an image of the meter displaying the words ‘stand up,’ and finally, we see Q-Tip reopening his eyes, and join the group as they stand and roam on the new planet.

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Photo by Charity Arrington

COLLABORATION BETWEEN TWO AFRICAN GIANTS Oluwateniola Fatoki

Have you ever felt curious about exploring your ancestral roots and the diverse cultures you might be connected to? Afrofuturism is a cultural and artistic movement that combines elements of science fiction, fantasy, Afrocentrism, and historical fiction to explore the African diasporic experience. Africa is often unjustly portrayed through negative stereotypes such as misconceptions about poverty, political instability, as well as limited opportunities. However, it’s crucial to recognize that Africa is incredibly diverse, comprising of 54 countries, each with their unique cultures, landscapes, and histories. Afrofuturism emerges as a significant bridge, connecting African Americans and Africans, allowing a comparison of their distinct historical contexts, social dynamics, and significant influence in the music and film industry.

Many individuals within the Black community in the U.S. have diverse ethnic and cultural backgrounds, with roots tracing back to various African, Caribbean, American countries, and other parts of the world. Although people from different sides of the Diaspora may have similar features and identities, our cultures and lineage vary based on our differing experiences with colonialism and the Trans-Atlantic slave trade. For instance, Africans could be first-generation Americans with relatives who speak a different language or dialect, while African Americans may speak in English or African American Vernacular English. Embracing this diversity can lead to a more comprehensive and respectful understanding of the complexities within the Black community.

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The history and legacy of colonization and slavery have had different impacts on African and African Americans respectively.

According to Chapter 3.2 of the textbook World Geographies: A Critical Introduction by Aline Gregorio and Jason Scott, “ by the early 20th century, around 90 percent of Africa was directly controlled by Europeans.”

Colonization led to Africa’s reliance on European goods and a shift away from their traditional beliefs. Both the era of slavery and the “Scramble for Africa” were immensely destructive, leading both populations from each continent to forge their distinct cultures and beliefs in response to these harrowing experiences.

The concept of Afrofuturism finds resonance in contemporary social platforms like TikTok, as these networks serve as a tool for the Afrofuturist movement by connecting people and enabling collaborations. Veronica’s Kitchen, a Nigerian-owned restaurant in Inglewood, California, gained widespread popularity through TikTok by sharing authentic cultural dishes, gaining 8.9 million views.

In comparison to the influence of social media, being from the African continent has transformed into a prestigious connotation due to music. The use of Afrofuturism in the music industry has been growing exponentially as it allows artists to explore and celebrate African and African diasporic cultures, traditions, and identities. Afrofusion is a prime example, as it is a genre that originated in West Africa and has gained global popularity with the fusion of traditional African rhythms and other genres such as Hip-hop and R&B. As stated by Burna Boy in an interview with Barstool Sports, “Afro-fusion is a fusion of everything with Africaness being the bottle that holds everything together.” Janelle Monae, an Afrofuturistic artist, has been involved in the Afrobeat

scene, collaborating with Seun Kuti and CKay in their song “Know Better.” This fusion allows for a unique and visually stimulating experience, blending the energetic beats of Afrobeats with the futuristic and imaginative elements of contemporary R&B. However, the film industry reflects a gap in authentic representation, highlighting the need for collaboration between African and African American creators. Films such as “The Black Panther” are lauded for their celebration of African pride and Afrofuturism, yet they base their narratives on fictional African countries, overlooking the rich tapestry of the continent’s diverse cultures. Ayodeji Aiyesimoju, a lecturer at Joseph Ayo Babalola University, stated that he would like to see more Black actors in Hollywood and more partnerships between major studios in the U.S. and Britain and in countries like Ghana and Nigeria (Reuters, 2020). Genuine collaboration with African writers and scholars can enrich Afrofuturistic narratives, fostering accurate and respectful portrayals of African culture and traditions.

Delving into the areas of Afrofuturism, African heritage, and the American experience opens a gateway to a profound understanding of the complexities within Africa and the African Diaspora. Afrofuturism serves as a powerful catalyst, connecting Black Americans and Africans by portraying shared experiences while honoring diverse backgrounds. This is evident in the realms of music through different artists and events that have shaped communities. However, the film industry reveals a need for greater collaboration between African and African American creators to authentically represent African cultures and traditions. Through embracing the diversity of Africa, Afrofuturism has the potential to become a renowned movement for genuine understanding and unity within the global Black society.

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Hear AFROFUTURISM

Photo by Charity Arrington

A Playlist by Nia Elie & Jordan Anderson

Rosa Parks Prototype Die Hard Shiny Suit Go! You Got Me Drive ME crazy!

DELRESTO (ECHOES) 1999 Mystery of Iniquity Get Up PLASTIC OFF THE SOFA AMERICA HAS A PROBLEM When I’m in Your Arms Reason Binz Girl On & On Bonita Applebum Gravity Make Me Feel Many Moons

Outkast Outkast Kendrick Lamar Jay Electronica Common The Roots & Erykah Badu Lil Yatchy Travis Scott ft. Beyoncé Prince Lauryn Hill Amel Larrieux Beyoncé Beyoncé Cleo Sol Cleo Sol Solange The Internet ft. KAYTRANADA Erykah Badu A Tribe Called Quest Brent Faiyaz ft. Tyler the Creator Janelle Monae Janelle Monae

POETIC BLACK INNOVATIONS

A Deep Dive into the Work & Scholarship of Dr. Keith Leonard Amira Tripp Folsom

Dr. Keith Leonard is a faculty member in the Department of Literature and teaches African American Literature and Culture with a focus on African American poetry and poetics.

Dr. Leonard has been teaching at AU since 1999 and is the founder of the African American and African Diaspora Studies (AFAM) department.

BLACKPRINT: What motivated you to found the AFAM department at AU? Can you share more about what the process of that was like and how the program has grown since its creation?

DR. KEITH 10 or 15 years ago, this student government came LEONARD: to me, and they had drafted a proposal for an African American and African Diaspora Studies minor. They did as much as they could as students and they brought it to me to submit it to the university and take it through all of the official processes. So we had a minor for several years, and then the university decided to create the Critical Race, Gender, and Culture Studies Collaborative, before it was a department, that unified American Studies, Women, Gender, and Sexuality Studies, Arab World Studies, and Asian Studies together under one administrative rubric so that each of those programs, which didn’t have enough resources, could get resources together, and it wasn’t an official department until two years ago.

BP: Afrofuturism is a growing and influential cultural movement that you will be teaching about in the course AFAM-450/LIT-435 “Black to the Future.” How do you define Afrofuturism, and in what ways do you see it shaping the narratives and creative works of African American artists today?

KL: The definition is a very complicated thing. I start with a couple of different components. One is that there’s a basic idea that when African Americans do science fiction, that’s a kind of engagement with science and technology, imagining the future, and that is sort of where the definition started. What I like to emphasize in this class is that part of what is at stake is how Black people understand our relationship to technology, both in terms of contemporary electronics, but also the Industrial Revolution, and all of those mechanizing processes of racial capitalism

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KL: that made slavery such a profitable aspect of Western culture.

So how do Black people understand their relationship to that heritage of technological innovation, having been kind of technolog yourselves? When African American writers, musicians, artists, and activists participate in Afrofuturism, part of what they’re engaging with is this relationship to technology. They are also trying to frame that in terms of thinking about the Black past and what lessons it has to offer us for a Black future. So when you combine that together with science fiction, different ways of imagining what the world could be, the engagement with technology, and infusing that within a sense of the Black past. And when I say Black past I imagine you know that I am including African American, Afro-Caribbean, and African diasporic pasts, both real and imagined.

BP: You’re currently working on a book project entitled “Black Avant-Gardism.” Can you give us a sneak peek into what readers can expect from this book, and how it contributes to our understanding of African American literary and artistic innovation?

KL: I’m interested in how throughout this whole history by which white innovative poets have been studied, there have been Black innovative poets doing all kinds of similar things and they’ve been in resistance to racism and also in resistance to the white avant-garde. For Black innovative poets, it’s always been tied to social movements, so Black Avant-Gardism is interested in trying to redefine the avant-garde and poetry a little bit so that we don’t lose sight of the fact that the avant-garde originally was associated with social movements. Even in Europe some of the most important avant-garde movements in Europe were tied to, especially in Russia, socialist revolutionaries. For Black writers, there’s never been a detachment between innovation and politics. The starting point is poetry, but I’m interested in all the different ways in which Black people are innovative in all aspects of our culture.

Innovation is a kind of practice of survival. As an enslaved person, if you’re engaging with English, but you’re never taught to speak English, and teaching you to read and write is illegal, then your engagement with the language is going to be innovative. If you hear certain sounds in your head, and no one teaches you how to play the piano, then how you play the piano will be innovative and you will create the blues. Part of the reason that this innovative poetry needs a different history is that it’s tied as much to Black innovation that we have for our survival as it is to the poetic innovations of the white avant-garde tradition. So that’s kind of why I call it Avant-Gardism because I don’t know if Black avant-garde is the right term. I don’t want to make it sound like I’m trying to make these Black poets seem good because they’re a lot like those white poets, but rather that there’s a different nature of innovation in Black traditions that we can see in this poetry.

BP: As an author and academic, what advice would you give to aspiring scholars and writers looking to delve into the rich world of African American literature and culture, particularly in the context of your research interests?

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KL: Two things pop into my head immediately. One is respect for tradition, and the other is trust yourself… Black culture and the study of Black culture didn’t start only in the 1960s with Black Studies departments in the university. People tried to make it work even before that, so getting as much of the history as you can, as humanly possible, and respecting that tradition so you can be a fuller part of it. I also say trust yourself. There are going to be so many ways in which you might potentially be discouraged. There are political winds among state legislatures saying that our work is not that valuable, that college is too expensive to major in African American Studies or Critical Race Theory is somehow contrary to understanding American history or whatever the case may be. It’s also the case that you will encounter this rich intellectual tradition, but you have something to offer. There’s always some ways in which you can bring yourself to these insights.

BP: How do you envision the future of African American poetry, literature, and artistic expression, considering the themes and movements you’ve explored in your work as a scholar and professor?

What trends or developments do you anticipate in the coming years?

KL: Each time I’ve taught the course, which is every two or three years, there’s more and more material out there. People are doing all kinds of futurist or speculative work in visual arts, in music, and some African American poets are actually investing in various ways in what you might call an Afrofuturist aesthetic. Actually, I remember hearing a poet who was asked a very similar question, and he said, “I don’t know what the future holds, but because I’m as old as I am, I’m sure I won’t like it.”

That’s gonna be my problem, too, but there’s several generations of poets who have been very much interested in articulating Black identity.

They’re trying to push the boundaries of what poetry is so that you can push the boundaries of what we understand. I think a lot of that has been inspired by Afrofuturism because Afrofuturism is so invested in saying, “How can we see our history differently? How can we see what it means to be a person differently?” One of the things we’re going to be focusing on in the class next semester is how certain writers are comparing what it means to have an internal life as a Black person to what it’s like to have a cosmic understanding of things like Black holes and dark matter and to imagine that our internal life is a kind of sublime – that a philosophical understanding of Black being as sublime, just like the vastness of the cosmos is sublime. That kind of philosophical thinking about what Blackness is is a really powerful trajectory in contemporary poetry, and so far, I like all of it so they haven’t moved past me yet! But those are my best guesses and I think there’s so much more to come.

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Afrofuturism, community, & the arts Professor Sybil Roberts Williams on Shaping African American Studies and Performance at AU

Amira Tripp Folsom

Professor Sybil Roberts Williams is the Director of the African American and African Diaspora Studies (AFAM) department and a professor of Theatre and Musical Theatre in the Department of Performing Arts (DPA).

Roberts Williams is an active and respected member of the DC theater community as an accomplished dramaturg and playwright.

BLACKPRINT: As the Director of the AFAM department and a professor in the DPA, how do you envision the future of African American performance and academic study, and what role do you believe it plays in shaping the next generation of artists, performers, and scholars?

PROF. SYBIL In Africa, art wasn’t made unless it was useful to the comROBERTS munity and I still see that as being a primary way in which WILLIAMS: we communicate who we are, communicate who we’ve been historically, and communicate aspirationally who we want to be in the future. It’s important that we teach our young people that yes, it’s important to be authentic.

It’s important to be you, you can’t be anybody else. But it’s also important that you always think about yourself as part of the community, and what does that community need and how does your art serve that function?

I came on as program director for African American and African Diaspora Studies because the bulk of the courses were humanities but not the arts, and you can’t talk about Black people without talking about the arts.

You just can’t. Literature is an incredible part of that, but so is dance, so is music, so is theater, so is drumming. We’re talking about the 50th anniversary of hip hop [this year], and we’re talking about performance poetry. We’re talking about graffiti. We’re talking about B-Boying, we’re talking about DJing. All of those things are African. All of that is incredibly important as it talks about our presence here, so I wanted to come on and [build] a bridge between the Department of Performance Art and the Critical Race and Gender Studies program that [talks] about cultural studies in an arts context.

BP: Could you share specific examples where Afrofuturism has allowed you to explore and challenge stereotypes, historical narratives, or societal expectations related to the Black experience?

SRW: I think one of the most exciting forms, genres, and ideas to come out of contemporary African American performance is Afrofuturism.

39 SRW: And I thank Mark Dery, for sort of carving out that space because one of the things he says that sticks out to me is that we don’t need horror stories. African American actual history plays out like a horror story that we can’t escape. I think reclaiming that ‘space of trauma and horror’ and beginning to think about how we transcend it, both spiritually and sometimes even physically, certainly, intellectually, is one of the most powerful things that Afrofuturism does. I mean, Sun Ra told us that years ago there’s a place we can go sonically. He started to say that sonically we have long used music and meditation and sound to create space for ourselves to become. So we are taking our ancient traditions and pulling them forward while at the same time treating the trauma that we have from the past.

BP: In your opinion, how can Afrofuturism as a genre in the arts and academia contribute to a broader understanding of African American and African Diaspora studies?

SRW: One of the most arresting pieces of Afrofuturism that I have found recently has been Lovecraft Country because it literally takes history and says, “As magical beings, what do we understand about [our magic]? What do we own and pull forward from it?” They do exactly what Afrofuturism does well, they take what we have created in a very specific historical context, place it in another historical context, and then allow that to pave the way to the future.

They take Sonia Sanchez’s poem “Where Is Your Fire,” which was written primarily for Amiri Baraka and his wife, and place it in the Tulsa Massacre. So as this magical woman is burning, we are hearing Sonia say “Where is Your Fire?” like “You’re burning me to death, but where is your fire?” In that time the writer/filmmaker did two things. They paid homage to the power of her determination and the determination of those massacre survivors. For us to be able to stay and hear her say “where is your fire?” resists being traumatized and victimized by history and allows us to imagine what magic we can bring forward from that very horrific and dramatic moment. Afrofuturism takes the past, present, and future and makes them all immediate, which is something that is very African, right? Because we know that in Africa, time is not linear.

BP: As a DC native, much of your work is centered around the city and its history. “FROM U. STREET TO THE COTTON CLUB” and “The Black Flute” were both produced here in Washington, D.C. Can you share your experience with this production and the influence of U Street and DC’s historically Black neighborhoods on the development of African-American music and culture in the United States?

SRW: As a native Washingtonian, it’s really funny because in one way I’m absolutely shaped by my community. I grew up in Anacostia so I am very much shaped by that and in the most profound African way, in that I believe in community. I did not grow up in a community that I thought was full of people who carjack and rob and steal. I grew up in a community full of people that if you were hungry, they fed you. Or if you were doing something wrong, they called you out. If you needed a hug, they loved you. And I still carry that in [me]. DC was the most provincial town you ever [saw] growing up. It was country! Like if you were from DC, you were country. That’s how it was, not some vast metropolis, so U Street grew out of that very same idea that the musicians that populated U Street Florence Mills, Duke Ellington, Pearl Bailey, and so many others.

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SRW: They were making music for people they knew and to speak to the community that bore them. The innovations that came from that are because “I want these people to have the best dance music, or I want to speak to everything I understand.” It was [a] nurturing community that allowed them to engage Blackness, to experiment and to think about all of the things of possibility to [the] community, not just you as an individual.

BP: Your work often delves into the experiences of being young, Black, and gifted in today’s world. How do you see your plays and your work as a professor as a platform for promoting social change, and empowering the next generation?

When I got into this, to be very specific, it’s because I am an unabashed Pan-Africanist. I believe those Washingtonians with great community gave me the ability to dream. So I was always curious about Blackness in other places. Being Black in DC, in Oakland, in LA, in Miami, is one thing; being connected to a larger world of Black people is quite another, and there are art forms that do that. For me, it’s Reggae, but for somebody [else], it might be Afrobeats or Soca for someone else. I want to create theater work that says “There’s someplace I can go. I can go to Jamaica, I can go to Ethiopia, I can go to South Africa, and there’s a Blackness there that enlarges mine.”

BP: As you continue cultivating and growing the African American and African Diaspora Studies Department, how can the AU community support or get involved in the program’s future?

SRW: Take our classes. First and foremost. I’m teaching a class called African Performances as Politics next semester that we hope will travel to Senegal. I’m teaching AFAM 200 which is an introductory course, and I’m teaching a course called African Americans in the Performing Arts and that one is always really powerfully important just to understand their presence in the arts. Take the courses to become a major and minor. Also, come to our programming! Support us by getting involved. Get involved with student groups like BSU. What I want to do with African American Studies is build community. So I want BSU, Caribbean Circle, and ASO to continue to be involved with me. Get involved with Bethune Woodson, our AFAM studies club. Build community. Black people on this campus need each other. Faculty, staff, and students, we need each other. Get involved.

Meet johneé wilson

the African Diasporic Scholar Crafting Her Future Amira Tripp Folsom

Johneé Wilson is a fourth-year student at American University, and a candidate for a Bachelor of Arts from the School of International Service with a thematic focus on global inequality and development, and peace, global security, and conflict resolution, and a minor in African American and African Diaspora studies. For her work and scholarship across the world, Wilson has been the recipient of various acknowledgments including the Benjamin A. Gilman Scholarship, the Matthew and Cynthia Warshaw Scholarship, Black Alumni Book Awards, the Student Government Confederation Scholarship, SISU Davenport Scholarship, and the Collaborative of Leaders in Academia and Business (CoLAB) Digital Technology Scholarship.

BLACKPRINT: Can you tell us about your experiences at AU as an SIS major and AFAM minor, studying abroad, and working with youth leadership development in Abuja and Lagos, Nigeria, and female empowerment in São Paulo, Brazil? What inspired you to work at the intersection of global service and youth leadership?

JOHNEÉ “Eu falo em português muito bem, agora.” So I WILSON: speak Portuguese pretty good now. Since being in the School of International Service, AU afforded me the opportunity to study abroad for five months in São Paulo, Brazil where I worked with four other researchers from American University who were actually in DC. They voted to have me lead the group even though I was not in the same country as them. So we curated the Dope Diaspora project, which was an exploration of female empowerment through Afro-diasporic music and language within five geographic localities: Jamaica, Puerto Rico, the US, Nigeria, and Brazil.

I think my experience designing curriculum resiliency models for youth came as an opportunity because I used to work for an organization called One Common Unity as a program facilitator during the pandemic, and we were virtually facilitating programs for middle school and high school youth online centered on life skills, environmental stewardship, health and wellness, creative expression, social justice, social-emotional literacy. In building out social justice campaigns, having students write letters to their local politicians and ask for things that they want and need in their communities. It was very enriching, and a mentor [of mine] has a nonprofit called Dream Sports Africa and asked if I wanted to come to Nigeria to do some similar work.

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JW: I didn’t know that that’s something that I could be good at, but someone else gave me an invitation and I enjoy it. you maybe share some key insights or BP: Can challenges that you encountered in designing these resiliency models for youth leadership and wellness programs?

JW: In the design, it’s like curating a bunch of different curriculums and pulling from different educational materials to create a more proprietary curriculum from that. One challenge was that it wasn’t linear. You go into spaces with young people, and based on how they’re feeling and how the structures and systems are set up in the facilities, whether it’s a school, whether it’s a community center, you’re – especially here in DC – working with youth who have experienced some form of trauma, who may be experiencing the impact of gun violence, or perhaps experiencing something where their home life is not secure. When we talk about design thinking as a model of understanding empathy, it’s collecting or curating feedback from people who are experiencing the problems [because] they are the recipients of the curriculum. So it’s like wanting to implement some type of liberation pedagogy where I’m not standing in a room and talking to young people, but we’re engaging in dialogue together. We’re engaging in the Socratic method of question-asking and critically thinking together. So yeah, I’ve learned a lot from the students.

BP:

In working with the students in Abuja and Lagos, have you encountered elements of Afrofuturism in the communities that you engage with? If so, could you share some examples and their impact?

Afrofuturism upends sexism and racism. For example, Octavia Butler testifies that her Black female characters behave as if they have no limitations.

In Nigeria, there are certain cultural norms that are different than the US… JW: a lot of gender roles, especially when it comes to women and a woman’s place in Nigerian society as the wife, as a virtuous woman. Christianity and Islam are [both] practiced highly in Nigeria, but both frameworks hold women to a certain standard. And I noticed that working with youth, especially youth that come from educational institutions, these youth and young female-identifying students are liberating themselves beyond the expectation of gender roles. They’re playing basketball, they are doing yoga, even when frameworks of Christianity in Nigeria say yoga is evil. They are creating. Young girls are in STEM. So I think it’s the young people, especially the young female students that I work with, who are breaking down barriers and seeing a future for themselves that maybe Nigerian society says that “you as a young woman or female-identifying person cannot attain.”

How has your experience in São Paulo, Brazil, informed your understanding of Afro-Brazilian culture and connection to the broader African Diaspora? Are there any specific moments from your time in BP: Brazil or insights from the Dope Diaspora project that you want to share?

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JW: Something that defined my time in Brazil was the ethnographic work of going into diasporic communities and understanding that, whether you’re on the continent, or other places throughout the diaspora, we as Black and diasporic people share a common identity and we share a common destiny. Although a lot of the culture has been fragmented and scattered, we find ourselves in the environments in which we were placed. Something pivotal for me was going into the community. There’s a dance place called Aparelha Luzia and you go there on a Friday or Saturday night and folk are just dancing, samba, dancing to Bossa, dancing to Afrobeats. That Afrobeats are being translated into Portuguese and also honoring Western, our Western society by playing Black American artists who come from the US. I noticed that this intersectionality of identities and cultures was happening, and I am privileged as a Black-identifying woman to be able to access these spaces without someone looking at me like, “What are you doing here?” It was sacred, dancing and observing. It’s called performance ethnography when you begin to perform the things that you’re writing about in your research. Being able to dance and move my hips and be in community with other women, like that is empowerment. My advisor Professor Sybil Roberts said, “Well, what is female empowerment? You’re studying female empowerment, but what is it?” and that became like, a part of the research question asking these women in spaces in Brazil and in São Paulo and Salvador and Rio de Janeiro, saying what is female empowerment to you?

BP: So how have all of your experiences abroad and your work with such diverse, yet similar cultures and communities shaped your perspective on global issues and the role of youth leadership in addressing that?

JW: Bringing this back to Afrofuturism, there are more groups than African groups who are seeking liberation, right? Look at what’s happening between Israel and Palestine. That’s very alive for us as a global people, and something I learned is that it’s like the same script, different cast around the world. Everybody, in their own unique way, is fighting for liberation, fighting to secure a future that may or may not have been promised to them. And in some cases, by any means necessary, right? And that’s the Malcolm X methodology. So that’s one lesson that I’ve learned that everywhere, it’s the same script, different cast. Different people, different cultures, but we all want something similar: respect, shared humanities, and resources so that we can move to the next day and feed our families. We want freedom.

BP: How do you see the future of your career in this field evolving, and what goals or projects are you currently working on or planning for the future?

JW: As far as my future, I think I’m creating it. I don’t think the work I want to do anybody else has done in the way that I want to do it. But what Maya Angelou say? “If you are trying to be normal, you’ll never know how amazing you could be.” So I can’t say that I’m gonna work in international development or foreign service. But I can say, I’m going to keep listening to stories. I’m gonna put them together. Maybe I’ll author something, produce a documentary or film, something creative. But I know because of Mark Dery, giving us a word, I know my future, and my future is pretty guaranteed.

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I got off on the 13th floor when they told me there wasn’t one.

ANDRÉ 3000

in Thought Process by Goodie Mob

KAYLA HENNING So

condemned and collectively feared, the thirteenth floor signifies the void space in a building overwhelmed by a fixed and violent ontological presentation. All of the building’s quiet belongs to the 13th floor. Curious and brutalized, the defiant body finds its way to the 13th floor, with the blankness allowing for an unfettered imagination of what their world could be. The world making production of the 13th floors of which black folx inhabit amid suffocating violence, is the beauty that fuels the resilience.

Photo by Charity Arrington

Granny’s House: On the corner of Georgia St. in Gary, Indiana is a bright pink house. It once belonged to my Granny.

It was once a 13th floor. She was a barely 5ft tall lunch lady raising four kids in a city experiencing a mass exodus of people and resources. This would eventually cause Gary to be considered a “ghost town”. But on that 13th floor, that socialization was insignificant.Granny was a giant; a mother with unbounded powers. Whether it was a heaping slice of her particularly sought after andfought over sweet potato pie, a place to stay until you had your own, or a mother’s tenderness for a bruised baby, everyone on the block and beyond got what they needed on that 13th floor.

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On that pavement, you possessed the ability to write for yourself who you were with just a ball, your body, just your love.

My Cousins’ Backyard: My cousins’ crib was maybe one of the only ones with a basketball hoop in the backyard, but on this 13th-floor ownership was not limited to the person who inked the paperwork. It was shared. It was communal. At least a couple times a week, upwards of fifteen 10-13 year old boys would fill the back pavement. Black boys who had already begun to be delineated as delinquents with futures being scripted by standardized tests and racist school policies, ran away to the 13th floor. It didn’t matter how well you applied a colonizer’s language or your ability to conform to western principles of education meant to force complacency . If you could put the ball in the basket you were solid. If you were the fastest runner you were King. If you showed up you were family. On that pavement, you possessed the ability to write for yourself who you were with just a ball, your body, just your love.

Now as the only girl, I ain’t saying the space was perfect. Patriarchal power dynamics didn’t skip from the 12th to the 14th, but I got more respect with every bucket. This space became the foundation of an art form that I would use as my own 13th floor for a decade to come. Basketball allows me to, for a moment, leave this place. My body to be dually possessed by spirit and self.

For an instant I feel free. As I started to find more success with basketball the boys from the pavement supported me with a special pride. It was one that was shared. In high school, when I won player of the year, I remember one of the boys, Quinny, congratulating me and teasing about how real

-ly it was “our trophy” as I technically wouldn’t even be playing without him.

He wasn’t wrong though. My accomplishments weren’t just my own.

All of our individual accomplishments were that of the 13th floor in which we cultivated together.

My Granny passed away from lung cancer when I was five. It kind of feels like that 13th floor died with her. My family rarely ever goes back to Gary, the house was sold and the ones that surround it growingly became boarded and abandoned. While the pavement in my cousin’s backyard made a D1 athlete out of me, it could not erase the inevitable future of the fact that anti-black violence will do what anti-black violence does; destroy and despair. Just as our accomplishments are shared, I would like to believe that the pain of an individual is also felt collectively. Hooping without bounds would turn into playing basketball in the NCAA and I would sign my body away for what I thought to be the dream. In reality I stopped dreaming when I left the park. They told you there wasn’t a 13th floor. It was dangerous and to be left alone but when you got off and created it they came running in with their own intentions. They used your own vulnerability to take it from you, all whilst gaslighting you into believing their presence would be of no harm to your creation. Co-opted and commodified, I wonder if 13th floors will ever have the autonomy to protect and sustain themselves. I long for a 13th-floor that can exist beyond moments: the imagination of a freedom beyond escapism.

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A Poem by Gifty Boanoh A tether A single tether that reminds me that my history isn’t of this world Isn’t only of a history plagued with forgotten tongues and railroads Forgotten streams and crossroads Where crossing legs was an indiscretion Where to most it meant dance I look within myself and realize that I am multifaceted That my actions are impacted by the world in which I consume That to reclaim my lineage is to reclaim my roots That to attach to my legacy means consistently making room Room for reclamation Room for growth To attest that the eyes in which I am viewing the world has been here before This time with no bounds That the shackles that tie me to my past are mere reminders that I am no longer bound by what they say I am Where they say I hail And the recognition that whatever burdens they carry are no longer mine to bear Liberation breathes life into my lungs and energy into my soul It changes the way I view how the seasons change I am free

The Meditation of a Merman on the Ocean. Her currents carved the human trafficking routes, her depths an unmarked mass grave, her enormity created Blackness. How do we forgive her? How do we forgive ourselves? All I know is she calls to me in voices my soul recognizes but never met, I must answer.

The ocean is like the beginning of Blackness and the separation between Black Americans and Africa. Afrofuturism is about connecting with and being in conversation with Black ancestry, for me, that ancestry in part lives in the ocean.

Addressing the grief, healing the wounds associated with its presence, and finding peace where there is pain is what Afrofuturism is for me. The idea of no blackness in the benthos also bleeds into the concept- Blackness was created as a response to colonialism, African people were just people before whiteness came into the picture. Underwater in the darkness, a Black person becomes just a person illuminated by whatever’s in the water.

trevaughn ellis on Meditations of a Merman

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A LOOK INTOMAKHYA 3024 CLARK A

LOOK

INTO

2024

celebrates the dynamic metamorphosis of Black culture throughout history. From the bold, trailblazing political icons of the ‘70s to the vibrant, chromatic fashion statements of the ‘80s, the pulsating rhythm of ‘90s music, and the infectious dances of the early 2000s, this evolution has led us to an era where self-discovery takes center stage in non-traditional expressions. Central to this journey is the concept of Afro-Futurism, a beacon of hope envisioning a world free from physical and societal oppression. Embracing technology as a catalyst for change, Afrofuturism merges art, music, and literature to forge a path toward a liberated future. It invites us to envision and construct alternate realities where Black excellence not only reigns supreme but flourishes within the embrace of its own rich cultural heritage. This visionary narrative paints a compelling portrait of a future where the reins of power rest firmly in the hands of the Black community, guided by their beliefs and traditions, forging a society as vibrant and diverse as their people.

NOTE FROM THE PHOTOGRAPHER

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can double major studying Criminology and Psychology. While most of her time is spent establishing herself in the legal field as a prelaw student, she is a creative at heart. Charity began her photography journey at the age of 14 when she began posting her photos on Instagram, focusing on nature photography.

Over time, her love of photography grew beyond nature photography to the world of food photography, portraits, and cinematography.

In her free time, she likes to use her friends and family as muses to try out different ideas and concepts. As her first official commission, Charity is honored and excited to participate in the BlackPrint’s take on modern Afrofuturism.

Photo by Charity Arrington

majoring in International Studies and Graphic Design. Born and raised in San Francisco, Raven has always felt at home in creative spaces -- her work focuses on the communication of identity through art. Issue 13 of the Blackprint is one of her first official print projects.

NOTE FROM THE DESIGNER

Charity is a graduating senior at Ameri-

RAven is a senior at AU double

Photo by Charity Arrington

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EDITORIAL BOARD Editors-in-Chief, Yasmine Jaffier & Amira Tripp Folsom Copy Editors, Isak Gustafson & Edozie Ummuna Opinion Editor, Oni Chaytor Culture Editor, Adaobi Nwatu Sports Editor, Brandon Smith Multimedia Editor, Makyha Clark Creative Director, Nicole Jean-Pierre Campus Outreach Coordinator, Sachel Borges Arias External Outreach Coordinator Hadara Greenidge

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS STAFF Paige Gibbs Gretchen Walker Anita Henderson Rossana Lopez Teni Fatoki Jordan Anderson Nia Elie

Special thanks Raven Heurtelou Charity Arrington Sybil Roberts Williams Keith Leonard Johneé Wilson Kayla Henning Anedra Edwards Gifty Boanoh TreVaughn Ellis Tisha Brown (@ElephantInMyRoom) Photo by Charity Arrington

ISSUE13 DEC2023