2023 Black History Month Issue

Black History Month Issue 2023

Photo courtesy of Unsplash

Letter from the editors

Dear Black Ink Family,

Happy Black History Month! Although we have month-long celebrations of Blackness every 30 days, we’re grateful for another year and that these nifty Black Ink print issues are back as well. When we learned that this Black History Month’s theme centers around Black Resistance, we were ecstatic to see what we could create, curate, and share with campus.

Since its creation in 1969 as the Black Student Movement’s sole publication, Black Ink Magazine has been dedicated to revolutionary media. We believe that resistance catalyzes revolution, and we are thrilled to bring you stories, personal narratives, and creative works that contribute to the conversation. We acknowledge that resistance embodies multiple layers of Black existence – so we’ve included many different perspectives in this issue. This magazine is chock full of thought-provoking ideas about perseverance through music, sports, and commentaries from our brilliant team about quotidian resistance on campus and beyond. We hope you enjoy our works.

Remarks from Black Student Movement

This Black History Month has been beautiful in the ways our community has come together and celebrated each other. Even when this month ends, our love for ourselves and each other will not. Be proud, be bold, be Black.

Julia Clark, President

Jorren Biggs, Vice President

Sedrick Brown, Treasurer

Zoë Bennett, Secretary

Isabella Chow-Kai, Outreach Coordinator

Joann Obioma, Outreach Coordinator

La-Ontra Bacon, Communications Coordinator

Niyah Murphy, Communications Coordinator

Morgan Hyman, Senior Advisor

We’re extremely grateful for our talented team of writers, photographers, and graphic designers who have worked hard to make this issue possible and have graciously taught us so much about writing and culture. For the past four years, our participation in Black Ink has been a cornerstone of our belonging, community, and involvement on campus. Though times change and we’ll be graduating this Spring, there will always be a need for revolution and resistance at UNC. As such, Black Ink will be ready. We have never backed down, and we won’t start anytime soon.

In Power,

Salena Braye-Bulls (‘23) and Maxwell Morant (‘23)

Black Ink Staff

Salena Braye Editor in Chief

Hannah Adams Staff Writer

Marie Bashengezi Staff Writer Videographer

Tolu Dapo-Adeyemo Staff Writer

Karizma Greene Staff Writer

Nyah Johnson Staff Writer

Maxwell Morant Managing Editor

Grant Alexander Staff Writer Photographer

Denise Kyeremeh Content Manager

Marsalis Anderson Social Media Chair

Claire Burke Staff Writer Laney Crawley Staff Writer

Chantel Gillus Staff Writer

Zoe Holbrook Staff Writer

Deborah Kargbo Staff Writer

Dallia Lindell Photographer Ché McDowell Staff Writer

Sophia Merine Staff Writer

Jordyn Middleton Staff Writer

Jordan Gooch Staff Writer

Taylor Holman Staff Writer

Ama Kwabia Graphic Designer

Kyla McGhee Staff Writer

Steph Pierson Staff Writer

Dominick Schettiny Staff Writer

Christopher Williams

Staff Writer

Yoni Taye Staff Writer

Savion Washington Photographer

Black People of the Hill

Skyler Clay ‘25

There’s a lot of things that keep me going. Mainly knowing that every day I’m working towards my future. Everything I do at school or work goes towards having the future that I imagine for myself where I’m able to use everything. I know that everything I’m learning each day is to help people and you know, to create a world that I enjoy more and places where I can feel safe and happy.

Caleb Callahan

Two years ago, I had a suicide attempt, and I was dealing with really bad crippling depression and anxiety. I was literally unable to go anywhere, do anything, or talk to anybody. I was literally unable to function at all until I met Jesus. I’ve grown up in a Christian household and nothing ever changed my life until I actually met the man and not the religion. And the moment that I met Jesus, it completely changed my life. I went from being in the house all the time and struggling with depression to being able to be out in the streets, telling people about how Jesus has changed my life.

Lauren Davis ‘23

Something that has been on my mind lately is graduation since I’m a senior. Also, I’ve been thinking about the future and what I’m going to do afterwards. I’m excited about going into the healthcare field, so I’m looking into short term careers and jobs for that.

Evelyn Moses ‘23

I think right now I’ve been practicing hope because I don’t normally give myself permission to hope. I feel like it leads to disappointment a lot of times. So right now, I’ve been practicing hope. I think I am trying to get better at practicing while also not ascribing a good or bad to it. What’s making me hopeful is just going through the journey. You’re just practicing. Just like going with the flow and not expecting anything specific out of it. And just being present.

Eden Appiah ‘25

I’ve just been thinking a lot about learning how to manage my stress. I feel like I get extremely stressed when it comes to schoolwork and especially comparing myself to other individuals that are maybe in my place, in my class, here in my major, or in my path of study. I feel like that comparison makes me even more stressed. So, one of the things that I’m learning how to do is to understand that not everybody’s path is my own, you know. And I need to learn how to calm down and to understand that whatever is going on in other people’s lives is not necessarily the way that mine is supposed to pan out. One way or another, I’m going to get where I’m going.

Sunday mornings, my grandpa would rise before the sun. Back creaking and arms stretching, he’d walk towards the kitchen. Attempting to stay quiet for my grandma, Papa carefully tiptoed to the fridge, pulling out ingredients to prepare for Sunday dinner. In the quiet of the country, he would cook–chopping, frying, seasoning. In the end, he’d have a whole feast laid out in old pots and pans. On the microwave, he’d leave a list of instructions for my grandma to follow, instructing her how to heat the food. Papa would head back to his room and fall back to sleep, preparing for his evening shift at work.

Our Food has Soul

By Nyah Johnson ‘26

Early Sunday afternoons, I would race to my grandparents’ porch. Starving and glad to be out of a long church service, I flung open the door. It’s a familiar scent–the smell of food cooked from the soul. Heated on the stove was everything my grandpa had prepared. Roasted turkey wings, smothered pork chops, collared greens topped with chow-chow, black-eyed peas, and a pan of cornbread. We all sit down at the table. My grandma sits at the head and asks me to pray over the food. “God is great. God is good. Let us thank him for our food. Ah-men.”

The conversation is almost as rich as the food. The adults

discuss politics, Obama, and church gossip. The kids ramble about the newest episode from our favorite show. At the table, breaking bread, our family and community are together.

Across Black communities, our food tells our story. It is a symbol of resistance, rebellion, and revolution. In the wake of oppression and discrimination, our food serves as a comfort and a reminder of our strength. As a means of survival, enslaved Africans would braid seeds and rice into their hair, sending waves of nostalgia and momentarily transporting them home. In an attempt to escape, this practice reminded them to persist. It

also reminded them to resist. As soon as they could, our ancestors created their own gardens, filled with okra, watermelon, and peanuts. It was food made by them, for them.

Traveling through time, we continued to use food as a means of resistance. In the heat of the Jim Crow era, activists advocated for food justice for Black communities. As food disparities plagued our neighborhoods, we fought for food fulfillment. In one of their pivotal projects, the Black Panther Party ignited the Free Breakfast Program, an opportunity given to all students of the community to receive fresh meals. Even when the police and government shut the program down, we found ways to be there for the children and each other.

From Black nationalism and radicalism rose “Soul Food.” In reclaiming Southern and Africaninspired dishes, we were able to once again reconnect with each other and our people across diasporas. Our food unites and represents us. In the mixing of the greens, in the seating of my grandma’s table, lays our community charging forward, making space for ourselves in a world that is not too kind. In doing this, we build community. We lean on each other. We continue to love. We continue to rise.

“As a means of survival, enslaved Africans would braid seeds and rice into their hair, sending waves of nostalgia and momentarily transporting them home.”

Why is it so hard to hug freedom back?

By Jordan Gooch ‘26

Clinging to the dreams we don’t know

What is it like to feel free?

I’d like to imagine it’s like the hug you get from a relative you don’t know

It engulfs you

It hugs you so tight

It remembers you from long ago

“Come here baby, give me a hug,” it says Holding out its arms with embrace

Because once freedom babysat you

Don’t you remember you used to run all over the place?

It may have changed our diapers

But it seems to not know us too well

Our memory seems blank

Only one of us can relate to “oh you have that same face ”

In our daily lives, we run from it

It’s scary to be the one left to decide

Conforming to the ones that desire us

Leaving ourselves in pieces

Hiding from our individuality

Accepting this as our reality

The ones we have never met

Oh like our relative, what was her name? great aunt Paulette?

They are so familiar because we are told they are

Look yourself in the mirror you’ll see freedom hugs who you are

Time passed so fast, you’ve grown up so quick

Freedom hasn’t seen you since 2006

Where have you been?

What grade are you in?

You’ve been avoiding uncomfortable choice

And it seems you’ve been just fine without Playing by the rules, and never calling a timeout

Although you haven’t seen each other in years You appreciate the warm embrace

Hugging freedom back won’t be easy

But at least you feel liberated in this place

Photo courtesy of Unsplash

Remembering Our Past: Celebrating the UNC Black Pioneers

By Kyla McGhee ‘26

In 1951, UNC-Chapel Hill allowed Black students to enroll.

As UNC-CH celebrates Black History Month on campus, it is important to remember those who broke down barriers for generations of students that followed.

The first generation of Black students at UNC-CH are known as the Black Pioneers. This group included: Karen Parker, Henry Frye, Kenneth Lee, Floyd McKissick, and James Robert Walker.

Parker and Frye are known to be the first to finish their studies at UNC-CH. Lee, McKissick and Walker were known to be the first African Americans enrolled into UNC-CH’s law school.

Photo courtesy of Kyla McGhee

Karen Parker: Class of 1965

Parker is known as the first African American female to enroll at UNC-CH in 1963. She later graduated in 1965 with a Bachelor’s degree in journalism. Parker graduated alongside five African American men, who went on to have amazing careers.

Before transferring to UNC-CH, Parker attended Greensboro Women’s College for two years. Greensboro Women’s College is now known as UNC-Greensboro, according to unc.edu.

During her time at UNC-CH’s journalism school, Parker was awarded the editor position for the school’s newspaper. In addition to being editor, Parker was awarded a scholarship during her senior year and she made the Dean’s List.

Aside from academics, Parker considered herself an activist. She participated in sit-ins,

protests and marches. For example, she blocked the intersection of Franklin Street and Columbia Street after a basketball game.

Parker even was jailed twice for her fight for Civil Rights on campus.

After her two years, Parker spent her journalism career working for the Los Angeles Times.

Since then, Parker has retired, and she remains in North Carolina.

Henry Frye: Class of 1959

In contrast, Frye was the first African American to complete three years at UNC-CH’s law school in 1959.

According to the unc.edu page, his trailblazing didn’t start there.

After he graduated from UNCCH, Frye became the first African American elected to the General Assembly. Then, he became the first African American appointed to the NC Supreme Court in 1983. Later on, he served as the court’s chief justice in 1999.

Photo courtesy of Kyla McGhee

Photo courtesy of unc.edu

Walter Jackson: Class of 1967

Fast forward to the current standings of the Black Pioneers, Walter Jackson is now the chair of the group. He serves as a member of the Black Alumni Reunion committee.

According to the UNC General Alumni Association page, Jackson became the 3rd African American graduate for UNC-CH in 1967. Similar to Parker, he earned his degree in journalism.

He worked for The Herald Sun and the Charlotte Observer. Jackson was the first full-time African American reporter at The Herald Sun in Durham, North Carolina.

Then he became the first African American reporter to work for a predominantly white news organization in North Carolina

and in the south when he started reporting for The Charlotte Observer.

Most of the Black Pioneers can agree that enrolling in UNC-CH was life changing for them. Despite having the odds against them, they beat those oppositions as they paved the way for future Black UNC-CH students.

This Black History Month, don’t forget those who opened a new chapter for the Black community here at Carolina.

Photo courtesy of alumni.unc.edu

Although it may be subconscious, many people associate a specific race or color with clothes and styles they see circulating in the fashion circuit. The recent resurgence of Y2K fashion paved the way for other micro trends, creating a revolution where alternative and unique looks are celebrated and valued.

Black icons of the past

Black expression and self exploration through fashion.

By Laney Crawley ‘26

represented wearing them, both on runways and in the media.

It insinuates that Black people can’t, don’t and shouldn’t express themselves as freely as their white counterparts. Most media representation gives the impression that Black fashion revolves strictly around shoe game and designer brands. Although these things are a heavy part of Black culture and fashion, it would be misleading to say that they are the basis of which our fashion comes from, and the only sense of style we know.

undoubtedly played a huge role in creating some of the most popular trends today, but they are often erased from the alternative fashion scene to make room for white ‘It girls,’ Nepotism babies, and designers. So when we see these new styles, many of which stem from a mixture of POC culture and recycled trends from the past decade, it’s sad when Black people aren’t

It’s so misleading because there are so many real world examples of Black people stepping outside of societal comfort zones and dressing in ways that people may not associate with Blackness. UNC’s own student body is littered with Black students representing alternative and different looks on campus every day.

Black fashion is anything and everything, a story about our

Photo courtesy of Unsplash

experiences as individuals and how we want to present ourselves to the world. Our fashion serves as a powerful tool of resistance to stereotypes that plague our race, and can act as an outlet to let people know who we really are beyond the box society tries to shut us in.

Black Ink’s own Tolu DapoAdeyemo’s style is soft, docile and muted, their closet filled with big cardigans and sweatervests. Freshman Dapo-adeyemo says they enjoy earth tones, and they like to put a little bit of themselves in everything they wear. “I feel like it’s very detail oriented,” they said. They also said they realize that they are breaking away from how the “stereotypical Black man” dresses, although they feel like there is pressure to conform to that stereotype. “It has not been an easy journey getting to where I am with my style,” they said.

Alternative Black Fashion Icons like Jimi Hendriks and Prince popularized big coats, layers, fun patterns, and scarfs for Black men. Black men always had the creativity and originality to express themselves through their clothes, but were pushed aside when alt styles began to gain popularity with mainstream audiences. People like DapoAdeyemo and Watford are just two of many UNC students showing that Black people are not a monolith, and should be allowed the same creative expression as their white peers.

Roman Wadford, one UNC freshman said that coming into college, he wanted to have

creative freedom in everything he does, and not let other people’s opinions affect him. He has also been told by his peers that he dresses like a white boy. To that he says, “You can’t race clothes,” and dresses in a way that expresses who he is. He likes to experiment with different colors and styles of clothes, and is moving away from caring about people’s judgments.

Personally, I love pink, and most of my clothing items are skirts, dresses and other traditionally feminine pieces. I connect with my femininity through fashion, especially when Black women are so often masculinized in every industry. Femininity and softness are not traits Black women often hear when being described,so it’s freeing to be able to claim my femininity and show the kind of person I am on the inside through my clothes.

UNC freshman Sabrina Shaw says she appreciates 80’s and 90’s fashion, but also likes to incorporate the early 2000’s look into her personal style. “I feel like my style expresses my creativity, I like to play around with my fashion choices,” she said. She also said she likes standing out for her style, and it’s very liberating for her to break the rules. As a Black woman, society is often trying to get her to conform to different hairstyles or types of clothes, so it feels freeing to just be herself.

There are reasons why everyone dresses the way they do, and Black students all over campus are telling their personal stories through their clothes, makeup, and hairstyles. There’s not one right way to do it, and there’s so much individuality to be found, if you just look for it.

A Slippery Slope:

Mielle and the Co-Opting of Black Hair Products

By Hannah Adams ‘26

If you watch TikTok, you are either familiar with, can’t stand, or are a fan of Alix Earle. The young University of Miami student swiftly rose to prominence for her “get ready with me” videos, which became her “mark” on social media. Earle soon earned thousands of followers after going viral on TikTok, attracting millions of young fans.

Who would have guessed that this fresh influencer would soon wield such power? More precisely, have such a powerful effect on Black women?

In a TikTok video detailing Earle’s “Top 2022 Amazon Purchases,” she mentions Mielle’s Rosemary Mint Scalp and Hair Strengthening Oil. This post created a heated controversy.

Black women were worried about the product selling out, and it did in the following weeks. However, the issue was far more than just this one product. The advantage white influencers have over the scant resources and opportunities given to Black women has proven to be clear.

The subject of exploitation extends beyond Mielle’s hair oil.

Photo courtesy of Unsplash

It is a matter of inclusivity.

As a mixed woman, finding curly hair products that solve all of the problems for my hair is like finding a needle in a haystack. Even worse, finding influencers across social media that share the same experiences is even rarer. It’s easier to find white women appropriating Black products or ideas, rather than accurate representation by my own race. Underrepresentation is majorly shown throughout social media, not because the Black community isn’t “good enough” to be influencers, but more so because these spaces are created to cater to the needs of white people and their values.

Target and many other general retailers only have about two aisles dedicated to thicker, curlier hair, whereas several isles are dedicated to straighter, thinner hair. The same can be said for cosmetics. Many cosmetics appear to have a limited amount of foundation or concealer shades that do not cover a wide range of skin tones.

You would think that in 2023, beauty industries would have learned the value that their products have on Black women globally. Whilst to them, it is about economic stance, to us these products represent our confidence, creativity, and even sometimes become a hobby. The beauty industry has implemented itself into our lives and our society, but refuses to dynamically change. More than anything else, the discriminatory practices that certain brands have abused reveal their own

core values.

Not only that, but Black women such as Clarke Peoples (@ claaaarke), Ashnesti Monet McMichael (@monetmcmichael), Golloria (@golloria), Gigi (@ gigiitheblackbarbie), and many others are not receiving the recognition they deserve and are continuously overlooked by TikTok and other social media platforms. These women are actively creating a comfortable and cultural environment that allows girls to feel accepted within society. When these influencers are shadowbanned (unknowingly blocked) from social media platforms like TikTok, it hurts not only their careers but also Black women as a whole. To diversify society, Black women must dominate these platforms.

The hatred isn’t necessarily directed at Alix Earle for promoting a product she enjoyed, but rather towards white communities exploiting Black culture. Because there aren’t many products specifically tailored to Black women, there must be a sense of respect for them. Not just that, but a respect for Black people and their longstanding struggle for inclusivity in the places/social media platforms they shop and visit every day.

“The beauty industry has implemented itself into our lives and our society, but refuses to dynamically change.”

Finally, February has rolled around, bringing Black History Month along with it. In other words, it’s time for all the love, joy, and celebration that our community deserves throughout the entire year, but especially now. Still, in the midst of all of this, I have a bone to pick with this same community. Yes, it is a time of celebration, but we would be remiss if we strictly took this time to focus on the good that makes up this community –because there is certainly some bad. Specifically, I am referring to the Protect Black Women movement and how it has been woefully neglected and dare I say, disrespected within the Black community. This is something that has only become more evident over the past few years, though its recent push into the limelight through Megan Thee Stallion’s highly publicized legal case has made it that much more apparent.

We have all heard the horror stories of Black women being intimidated, assaulted, and stolen that have led to everyone coming together in one defiant move to push for the protection of all Black women. While it is an effort meant to be upheld by everyone, an emphasis had

Protect Black Women!–But Only When It’s Convenient

By Ché McDowell ‘26

Photo courtesy of Unsplash

been put on Black men to come to the aid of Black women through this movement. In the beginning, it seemed to be met with much public support across various social media platforms, leading me and many others to believe that big changes really were on the horizon. However, unbeknownst to many of us, that was as high as that prospect would go. Over time, the shouts of “Protect Black Women” became mere vocalizations and then whispers. In fact, the only people who persisted in furthering this fight of resistance were Black women themselves. Again, Grammy award-winning artist Megan Thee Stallion’s story is relevant.

When news came out about rapper Tory Lanez attacking her with a gun, my immediate reaction was horror. This had only doubled as I witnessed many people not jumping to her defense but to her assailant’s. They attacked her appearance, her music, her integrity, all in the name of defending their favorite artist. It did not matter that she had bullet remnants in her foot, nor did it matter when someone in close connection with the two notified Meg’s bodyguard of the incident. Hell, Torey apologizing to Megan over text wasn’t even enough to consider his guilt. Many people in the industrymost of whom were prominent Black men - turned against her without a second thought. What does it mean for this community when we do such a thing? What does it mean to ignore, ridicule, and humiliate a Black woman all because Tory Lanez’s ‘“The Color Violet” is just too good? Are

songs worth the subjugation of others? And further, those from our own communities? If the answer to that is ‘yes’ then I think we need to take a long, hard look at how we are treating ourselves and this community as a whole. This entire abuse of Megan Thee Stallion and the trauma that was inflicted upon her is, in and of itself, an act of misogynoir, or, hate and prejudice against Black women. This misogynoir is not becoming an epidemic in the Black community because it has always been present. Black women are being attacked and even killed, and no one cares. No one except for Black women. The Protect Black Women movement has indeed become Black women protecting ourselves. When various influential male rappers fought to tear Meg down, it was women like Halle Berry, Janelle Monae, and Cardi B that came to her aid. And that’s not even mentioning the many Black femme activists and women in general who fought to give her the support she deserved. For every man trying to humiliate her, there was a Black woman there to tell him to shut up, then express concern and love for Meg.

Being a Black woman myself, I am familiar with such mistreatment inside and outside of this community. That doesn’t mean that it’s okay or should be normalized. We as a race must resist the normalization of violence against Black women that is still very prevalent today. When a Black woman says that she has been hurt, believe her. It should not take over two years and a judge to make this happen.

I am not only disappointed but outright angry, and I should not be the only one. I commend the Black women who have risen up and had to resist hate from not only the world but the community in which they had felt most safe. I commend Megan Thee Stallion for the strength that she should not have had to use.

Believe Megan Thee Stallion. Believe Black women. And always believe victims.

Happy Black History Month.

Photo courtesy of Unsplash

music is a weapon of resistance

By Jordan Gooch ‘26

When you think of Black resistance, what image do you see? The narrative is consistent in that black resistance always tells the story of racial warfare. It’s the ability to consume people of color on a daily basis and spit us out into the streets to march or protest. Black resistance, however, is so much more than a physical fight. It is the foundation of creation and expressionism that outlines the art we love and the music we listen to.

Many Black artists themselves have resonated with this idea through their lyrics or interviews. Singer-songwriter, and one of my personal favorite artists, Lauryn Hill famously said “Hip hop is not just music, it is also a spiritual movement of the blacks, you cannot just call hiphop a trend.” It is so important to recognize the impact we make by listening to Black musicians or grasping the depths of Black visual artists.

The Black community has long struggled to be cohesive over the past few years. Whether it’s colorism, gender roles, religion, HBCUs vs. PWIs who is blacker, or other trivial matters, we divide ourselves in the way society wants us to. When art, however, comes into play, real music and lyrics can bring any of us together. Those boundaries that create so much argumentative discourse across social platforms

Graphic by Jordan Gooch

seem to fade away when all that seems to matter is if we can dance or relate to the creativity we are experiencing.

For many students at UNC like first-year Ashton Hutchinson, music is a way to convey versatility. Most people usually listen to a variety of genres, that mold their musical aesthetic.

“I use music as a way to be authentic, connect with my feelings, and grow as a person,” I enjoy experimenting with various music styles because it allows me to engage with a variety of people on various levels,” Hutchinson said.

Hutchinson says his favorite style of music is hip-hop because it is a combination of genres and is versatile and poetic.

“You can hear anything through hip-hop or say anything through hip-hop,” Hutchinson said.

Listening to Black musicians is just one form of protest. Being able to listen to whatever your heart desires as a Black person, is just as resistant to ideas that try to conform to us. Whether it is hip-hop, rock-n-roll, or other alternative genres, Black men and women are the blueprint of musical creativity. We should not be constricted to only enjoying stereotypically deemed “ Black music “ also known as rap, trap, and R&B.

Music has always been a safe space for me. These safe spaces look like, solo dance parties, releasing emotional baggage, or my platinum white beats hugging

my ears as I bop my head on the RU route in the morning. Music has shaped my identity and my space within my Black identity. I grew up listening to Mary J. Blige and at the young age of five, I was singing lyrics about tough love, drama, and drinking.

Somewhere between 10 and 13, I switched from artists like Taylor Swift and Natasha Bedingfield to being the biggest J Cole and Bryson tiller fan. Whether or not I could truly relate to the lyrics was not the real reason I loved those artists or their music; it was more so how they made me feel.

Black resistance through music looks like individuality. As much as society groups people together and paints us as “all the same,” music defines us as individuals, and anyone is allowed to listen.

Let’s Talk About It: The Impact of Colorism on Women in Rap

By Sophia Merine ‘25

Last month, a clip of rapper Monaleo went viral after she went on The Hollywood Group Chat Podcast to discuss her experience as a dark-skinned woman in the rap industry. She spoke about how it is markedly easier for a light-skinned rapper to succeed in the music industry than a dark-skinned rapper. One of the hosts of the podcast, who is light-skinned, argued that she experienced “reverse colorism” in

school when she was made fun of for being light-skinned. Monaleo was quick to explain that the host’s experiences being bullied for being light-skinned were not the same as the discrimination and mistreatment that darkskinned women face. Simply put, there is no such thing as reverse colorism. She said, “Darkerskinned people experience a completely different experience than people who are light-

Graphic by Sophia Merine

skinned. And that is just like… the bottom line. And that is where the issue of colorism comes in for sure.” She alluded to the origins of colorism and admitted that she believed that it was easier for a light-skinned woman rapper to succeed and navigate the music industry. This poses the question: Why are women rappers judged so much for their looks instead of their talent?

Colorism is the practice of discriminating against those with a darker skin tone within ethnic or racial groups. Colorism is particularly prominent within the Black community and is a product of racism and white supremacy. The origins of colorism date back to the Atlantic slave trade when Africans were first brought to America in 1619. White slave owners perceived enslaved persons with lighter skin as being better than those with darker skin. The systemic practice of slavery is inherently racist, and colorism only further contributed to the idea that Blacks were the inferior race. The root cause of colorism is that in a racist and anti-Black society, proximity to whiteness affords people more privilege. Tragic sexual violence towards enslaved women by white enslavers often resulted in children - also enslaved - with lighter skin that experienced certain privileges as a result of their increased proximity to whiteness. On the other hand, enslaved people with darker skin were punished more severely and for smaller offenses.

After slavery, free Blacks established their own areas in

a very white world. These areas made by and for Black Americans began to segregate themselves based on skin tone. This system of discrimination seeped into the 19th and 20th centuries with the use of the “paper bag test.” The paper bag test was a tactic used by Black social institutionsclubs, churches, and Greek life. Organizers would literally hold up a paper bag and if someone was darker than the paper bag they would not be admitted into certain spaces. Today, paper bag tests aren’t commonplace for entry into spaces, but the colorist ideals behind the test still exist and people are still denied opportunities based on the shade of their skin.

Colorism and its effects are a hot topic in media and can be seen in films, television, and music. It directly impacts the careers of many musical artists and often determines how far in the industry they can go. Darker-skinned singers and rappers are at a loss regarding the same opportunities even in fields where Blackness is celebrated, specifically in the rap community. The genre was born in 1970s New York where young Black musicians remixed popular songs and records while freestyling on a beat. Hip-hop did not make its mainstream debut until 1979 with the release of the Sugarhill Gang’s “Rapper’s Delight.” Throughout the 80s and 90s hip-hop and rap greatly diversified and branched out into many subgenres. Rap music videos consistently featured light-skinned women over darkskinned women. European

beauty standards had once again invaded Black-created spaces. The idea that those with lighter skin are more desirable than those with darker complexion dates back to the 19th century when white American’s perceived dark-skinned Black people as being less civilized. The idea was that light-skinned folks’ proximity to whiteness made them more capable of being civilized. Ye once said, in regard to a casting call, “If it wasn’t for race mixing there’d be no video girls.” He is essentially saying that mixed or light-skinned women are the only desirable women in music videos. An article from the Wildezine sums this up perfectly: “Women featured in these rap videos as “video vixens” share three, hard to dismiss traits: long hair, bright eyes, and most importantly, light skin. These women are meant to be the typical attractive women to garner views, and it is not by chance that dark-skinned women barely seem to make an appearance or be lead.”

The first female solo hip-hop artist to record music was DJ Lady B who released “To the Beat Y’All” in 1979. In the late 80s, female rapper MC Lyte became famous as the first solo female rapper to release a full album. She went on to establish herself as the first female rapper to be nominated for a Grammy and the first rap artist to perform at Carnegie Hall. The 90s saw an influx of female rappers including Missy Elliott, Salt-n-Pepa, Lauryn Hill, Foxy Brown, Queen Latifah, and Lil’ Kim. Lil’ Kim was cementing herself as a rap icon

in the late 90s. Her sound was bolder and more provocative than other women in rap. Over the course of Lil’ Kim’s career, her skin became noticeably and unnaturally lighter. In the 90s the cosmetic industry started pushing for lighter-skinned people to lighten their skin and relax their hair. It was clear that the desirability of Eurocentric features was so abundant in the rap community that she felt the need to bleach her skin. She told Newsweek in the 2000s, “I have low self esteem and I always have. Guys always cheated on me with women who were European looking…How could I compete with that? Being a regular Black girl wasn’t good enough.” Many would criticize Lil’ Kim for bleaching her skin, but she was vocal about her insecurities and feeling that she was not as beautiful as lighter women. Many members of the Black community ostracized her for her Anglocized appearance, but systemic racism, misogynoir, and the impossible expectations placed on Black women should be blamed for her insecurities.

Nicki Minaj almost singlehandedly dominated the rap

scene in the 2000s. Around the turn of the century, an emphasis was placed on how rappers looked instead of their talent. The music industry is notoriously malicious towards women, especially Black women. The emergence and popularity of lighter rappers such as Cardi B, Coi Leray, and more recently Ice Spice is a stark contrast to darker-skinned rappers like Flo Milli, Doechii, and JT. Names like Flo Milli and Doechii may be lesser known and there is a reason. Dark-skinned female rappers are often viciously bullied online and are constantly told that their features are too masculine, how undesirable they are, and have everything from their gender to their talent questioned. Even more mainstream rappers like JT from City Girls constantly face misogynoir and anti-blackness because of colorism. This undermining of their femininity and their features are rooted in colorism, anti-blackness, and white supremacy. Coi Leray is a rapper that has become popular in recent years but her talent has been up for debate. Leray was among the nominees for “Best New Artist” at the 2021

BET Awards. Flo Milli and Latto were also nominated for the award. Though Flo Milli was also nominated and is arguably more talented and more precise with her craft, she is still not as recognized for it as lighterskinned rappers. There are clear discrepancies in the way these two women are recognized and celebrated for their artistry. Award show nominees in Female Rap categories remain dominated by light-skinned women. At the same BET Awards, there were no dark-skinned nominees for “Best Female Hip Hop Artist.”

Black women deserve credit for breaking down barriers and revolutionizing the rap genre. Since the breakout of women in rap in the late 80s, women have begun to dominate the rap scene. Black women have destroyed the belief that women needed male recording agencies or being associated with popular male rappers. A barrier that does not seem to come down is colorism which contributes to misogynoir. Their talent should not be up for debate or question, nor should it have anything to do with the shade of their skin.

“Today, paper bag tests aren’t commonplace for entry into spaces, but the colorist ideals behind the test still exist and people are still denied opportunities based on the shade of their skin.”

By Toluwanimi Dapo-Adeyemo ‘26

My existence makes people really mad. Livid, even. How dare I be Black, gay, gendernoncomforming and whatever else I decide to tack onto my identity like a big, Black bulletin board?

When having discussions about reclaiming power as Black people, there’s a lot of talk of resistance. Of sticking it to the man, standing up against our oppressors, and refusing to be beaten down past the point of return. What do you think of when you hear these things? Protests, sit-ins, walk-outs?

I think of myself right now,

My Joy is Inalienable

writing this article.

This is my weapon.

This is resistance.

My existence as someone who is both Black and queer means I have had experience with having my very personhood attacked from several directions. It’s no secret that Black people have been persecuted for as long as history remembers; antiBlackness permeates every community, space, and place in some way, shape or form. Queer people have systemically been the subject of wrongful fury and vitriol for centuries as well

- Gay marriage was legalized less than ten years ago. It’s no question that both groups are marginalized. So, what’s the difference when you’re both?

I don’t necessarily feel like I’m more of one than the other, and this also means that I don’t feel particularly partial to or favored in one group or the other. To be accepted in some Black spaces, that means hiding away my queerness. That’s been my experience for most of my life, whether it’s church, my old neighborhood, or the holidays with my family. The other option isn’t better, though. After coming out as queer, my experience in

queer spaces where I am a racial minority is often subpar…at best. From “tender-queers” – an Internet term for someone who prioritizes respectability politics over my lived experiences –calling me aggressive when I point out their racism to generally being overshadowed by my white counterparts at any given point, I’m made to feel like an outsider.

This is why being Black and Queer is to inherently resist. The odds are stacked against us in every way, and have been for centuries. We have been historically oppressed, sometimes to the point of death. To live as Black and openly queer is to actively defy these odds. Our lives are characterized in part by our inherent resistance. Which is why I also say that to be Black, queer, and joyful is even stronger resistance.

Think about it: the enemy has failed to steal our joy. Despite being told otherwise for our entire lives by those who hate us - strangers and family alike - we are worthy of love, and we deserve to be happy. In the face of adversity, we continue to create beautiful art and share it with the world. From James Baldwin to Lil Nas X, we have had an undeniable impact through the gifts that we share that the world has routinely proven that it did not deserve. Yet, we still choose to love. We continue to resist, in our own small ways, doing our part to continue to fight.

Everyone has a different journey, but one thing is for certain: coming to terms with your queerness as a Black person can be terrifying. It takes serious work to present yourself fully and authentically every day and be comfortable with that. Six years out of the closet, and that’s still something I struggle

with. However, I take pride in my struggle. My authenticity has come from seeing others be authentic to themselves, and I choose to continue to empower those who come after me as a result.

Visibility begets tolerance, tolerance begets acceptance, and acceptance begets prosperity. To every Black queer person reading this: let your joy be a form of resistance. Continue to struggle, so more people like us can prosper. It’s what we deserve.

Photos by Grant Alexander ‘25

Song

By Deborah Kargbo ‘26

To say that I gave my all is an understatement. I did I danced only to your anthem. I bent, I arched

I trembled to every crescendo welding my knees deeper into your hills and when I heard your opening notes, I heaved to give birth to your red stained trill with every chord you played but watched as you pursed your lips, your throat never carved to carry my song.

Now I shall lean to wretch your ode from my depths and rehearse my own and maybe my symphony will heal me from the lands that have refuted my presence, who remain unfamiliar to the fury of my skin. For every breath I take is in defiance for another life stolen

A reminder that my black body will one day turn to dust. My song finite. Therefore, I serenade you with a whispering threat that, my careless feet and soft mouth will never teach my heart the poison of your song.

Misaulany

Leave that dope alone! How hiphop blogs are decimating Black media credibility

By Christopher Williams ‘25

Did you know Tyler Perry actually won the popular vote in the 2020 election? What’s my source for that? Say Cheese!

Don’t believe me? Check No Jumper. They posted the exact same thing.

Believe me now? Well, I wish I could take your phone.

It’s been a little over two months since a guilty verdict was reached in the State of California vs. Daystar Peterson. Yes, I’m talking about Tory Lanez. And despite him being convicted of three separate charges, including assault with a semi-automatic firearm, it still seems like Megan

Photo courtesy of Unsplash

Thee Stallion was the one on trial. Why, though?

I blame the Shade Room ‘nem. RapTV? Block it. Raphousetv? Block that garbage too. If you seriously rely on these pages as news sources, please explain to me why? I literally do not understand.

Tory Lanez was (rightfully) found guilty on December 23. But somehow, the magical powers of those publishing content for blogs like Say Cheese and No Jumper allowed them to see into an alternate reality where he was acquitted on December 22! How does that happen?

It happens when we, as consumers of media, don’t vet the reliability of the sources from which we get our information. Why, as a grown adult, are you giving The Neighborhood Talk the same amount of trust as CNN? Not everyone is built to be a journalist. But with social media, anything is possible.

As a student at UNC-CH’s Hussman School of Journalism and Media, I can tell you that fact-checking is the skill most effectively drilled in during introductory level classes. Even mistakes like misspelling the name of a source or subject are liable to a 50-point deduction, and for good reason.

Harmful, blatantly false statements leave you at risk of being sued for defamation of character. If you parade your page as a news source while lying to make someone else look bad, I sincerely hope you know what’s

waiting for you in the courtroom.

Knowing that our nation’s future journalists would fail their classes for spreading even unintentional lies, why give a platform to bloggers and other social media busybodies who do it regularly? Why do they get a pass?

“Well they cater to Black audiences and give a different cultural perspective!” Not as much as you think. The comments of the Shade Room have been notorious for their promotion of homophobia and transphobia, yet they still continue to seek out their followers’ “thoughts?” about children like Zaya Wade. And with pages like the hip-hop blogs that worked tirelessly to slander Megan, rather than Tory Lanez, the person actually on trial, it’s clear that these male-dominated platforms have become outlets to spread misogyny.

I can’t forget the podcasts and interviewers either. Whether it’s someone spewing sexist commentary with his homeboys, or Meghan James discrediting Monaleo’s lived experience while whining about “reverse colorism,” we need to realize that not everyone deserves their platform!

And don’t you feel just a little taken advantage of when you think about the fact that Adam 22 is the white man running No Jumper? That VladTV calls itself “World’s Leader in Urban News?” Beyond the fact that these sites are downright “ignant,” doesn’t their sole focus on Black culture

feel exploitative?

It pisses me off.

So what am I asking you to do?

STOP ENGAGING.

Please don’t EVER retweet or repost another false verdict from Say Cheese. Unfollow the glamorization of poverty and violence that is DJ Akademiks. Pretend you would be on punishment if your mom caught you in The Shade Room’s comments!

I honestly can’t say I have great alternatives for you. There are definitely positive TikTok stars providing commentary, or existing magazines like XXL that, for the most part, avoid reporting controversies.

But what you can’t do is keep feeding into outlets that prey upon the Black Community’s weakest points. Using sexism, homophobia, colorism, and diaspora wars to further tear us apart shouldn’t be acceptable. If you support that, then are you really happy with the hatred you condone?

I will literally come look for new sources with you. I beg you to stop. As a journalism student, seeing such hateful misinformation run rampant physically sickens me.

And if you read all this, I know you know it’s true. Please, just let these pages go.

When I Resist

By Chantel Gillus ‘24

When I Resist I… Revel in my Blackness.

• Bathe in the sea of excellence that engulfs my brown body. Even the odds.

• Turn the unlikely into the most likely.

Sit in the driver’s seat.

• Drive the wheel of the car that my ancestors acquired for me to freely navigate my own journey.

Ignore the white noise.

• Block out the distracting sounds that yearn to deliver negative frequencies into my ear. Show up.

• Make my presence known in spaces where I am both wanted and unwanted.

Transform the non-beautiful into the indescribable.

• Black beauty is unconventional. Our beauty is unattainable, unique, and uncompromisable. We refuse to conform and diminish our beauty.

Abandon stereotypes.

• Being Black is not a monolith. We are all individual pieces of a puzzle that make up our cultures.

Normalize vulnerability.

• Vulnerability does not equate to weakness, but instead it is a super-power that enables us to connect to inner and outer senses, and be emotionally in-tune with ourselves and our community.

Call onto my higher self.

• Channel the most wise, most sublime, and most optimized version of she.

Embellish my mind.

Decorate the top floor of my body with ornaments of profound knowledge.

Photo courtesy of Unsplash

Black Resistance in White Spaces: An Interview with Dr. Priscilla Layne

By Sophia Merine ‘25

I had the chance to interview Dr. Priscilla Layne, an associate professor of German at UNC. Dr. Layne has been part of the Germanic and Slavic Languages and Literature (GSLL) department for twelve years. She completed her undergraduate education at the University of Chicago and her Ph.D. in

German Studies at Berkeley. I was interested in speaking with Dr. Layne to understand her experiences as a Black German teacher and the challenges that Black women face in higher learning institutions. As a Black GSLL major, I have noticed a lack of diversity in many of my major classes and even at the university

as a whole. I sat down to speak with her about her experiences at UNC.

Sophia: Before we start, I would just like to explain where the idea for this interview came from. My major is GSLL and I realized that in a lot of my classes, I was the only

Photo courtesy of Sophia Merine

Black kid or that there was only one other Black student. While I was looking in the directory a while ago, I saw that you were the only Black professor in the department. So I just wanted to ask first, how did your interest in German culture originate?

Dr. Layne: Yeah, it’s a funny story. It actually came from a movie. I grew up an only child so I spent a lot of time watching movies to occupy myself and I became obsessed with Indiana Jones. Which you know, now that when I watch it now, as an adult, I’m like, ‘Oh, there’s so much colonialism and borderline racist depictions of India.’ But when I was a kid, it was just an exciting adventure, this idea of traveling. Indiana Jones could speak all these different languages. I thought that was really cool. In a few of the movies, he’s trying to get stolen art from the Nazis for the museum. So in a few scenes, you would hear some German because he would go undercover. When I heard German, I was like, oh, that’s an interesting language. And I wanted to know what they were saying because they’re really short scenes where there were no subtitles. So I said, ‘Oh, I’m gonna learn German, and then I can understand what’s going on here.’ So that’s what sparked the initial interest.

It just so happened that the neighborhood where I lived in Chicago, Rogers Park, was very diverse, with lots of kids who are refugees and immigrants. I had a kid in my class who was from Romania, and his sister had taken

German before they moved to the US. He gave me a couple of books. One of them was German in 10 Minutes a Day. So that’s how I started. I would just learn words and learn phrases. I’d go to the library and get tapes and I tried to learn a few different languages. I remember getting cassettes for Russian, Hebrew, and French, and I don’t know why but I just took to German, I could pronounce it well and I could understand it. In seventh grade, they offered German and that’s when I started to take it with a teacher and it just became kind of a hobby of mine. I just knew that I wanted to travel the world and be multilingual. I luckily was dedicated to it early on. I’d get books from the library about German cooking and stuff because Chicago was heavily influenced by German culture, you would find German bakeries or pharmacies or restaurants so there was enough German culture that it kind of could feed my interests until I could actually go there.

Sophia

Yeah, that’s cool. How has your experience been as the only Black faculty member in the GSLL department or does it even affect your experience?

Dr. Layne

I think most days, it doesn’t affect my experience. My interactions with my colleagues have always been great. I really love the faculty at GSLL. They’re super supportive of what I do. A part of what I like about our department is feeling like we all respect the different research and teaching

areas that we have. I feel like I have a lot of free range in what I can teach. I’ve come up with all kinds of classes about Blackness – my first couple of classes were “Germany and the Black Diaspora” and “Black Europe.” More recently, I proposed a course on Afro pessimist film and I taught a grad seminar on Afrofuturism. And like, in every case, they’re never like, “Oh, what is this, how does this connect to Germany? How much German material are you doing?” They just say, “Sure, that’s what you’re working on right now.” So for me, I’ve been really happy with the support. I know that our department would love to get more diverse faculty because we have a diversity committee and liaison. We understand the value that brings to our students and it can be hard in German Studies. It’s a field that’s primarily white and although I personally know a handful of other Black professors, for example, or I know German professors of Asian descent, who are Latinx, there are few people of color in German.

I know that one way that our department has become more diverse is through our graduate students. We get increasingly more people of color or people from abroad, which I think is really great because I feel like people from other countries, people of color, and people from different socioeconomic backgrounds are going to bring different insights, and that just makes the conversation richer so that students can learn from each other. We don’t want our students to be in a vacuum, just

talking to people that are all like them and come from the same background. So that’s been really great. I hope in the future we can diversify the faculty even more. I think that UNC in general would benefit from that.

Sophia

That makes sense. As a Black faculty member, were you personally impacted by the Nikole Hannah-Jones tenure situation? If so, how?

Dr. Layne

I was personally impacted in the sense that it was embarrassing to me. To see how UNC was being discussed in the press with the whole incident made it seem like we don’t value Black scholarship, that we don’t value Black women. That we don’t see them as being experts. That was really sad to me because in my experience at UNC, the faculty that I know

definitely wouldn’t share those opinions. When you’re dealing with the Board of Governors donors, there are even more opinions in the mix. Having read Nikole Hannah-Jones’s work, and looking at her prizes, and all of the accolades she’s had, to me, there is no question that she earned that, she is definitely someone who deserved tenure. So I feel like we really missed an opportunity. I would have loved to have her as part of the faculty to be able to sit in on her talks and things. I’ve used part of the 1619 project in a class that I taught last semester on the construction of race. So I think it was really, if anything, our students lost out. I guess it made me feel that my presence at UNC is even more important. I know that we’ve lost some Black female faculty over the years, so I want to be there for the students. We need that representation. Luckily,

in my situation, I feel at home in my department, so I’m working to make sure that students feel heard and different from other departments as well.

Sophia

How do you think your experiences reflect the low number of Black professors at higher institutions?

Dr. Layne

I feel like there are definitely enough qualified Black scholars out there. I know Black people, especially Black women, have really taken advantage of higher education and getting their graduate degrees. I think, unfortunately, one of the problems in higher education is this need to reproduce yourself. So like, if you have a department that is all white men, the chances of them hiring yet another white man are very high. They

Photo courtesy of Sophia Merine

become comfortable with having this small group and there are a lot of ways that people make justifications for that. Sometimes they say ‘Oh, we’re looking for people from these schools’ so certain schools get seen as the best in your field, or sometimes it’s certain programs. I feel like the circle of people who are seen as being qualified, just gets smaller and smaller when there are these sorts of cliques. I think that works against Black people and Black faculty. Another thing that I’ve encountered is that sometimes there’s this bias when you’re a Black scholar and you’re working on Black subjects. You analyze Black literature, film, communities, etc. and sometimes white scholars will say ‘Oh, you can’t be objective about that, you’re too close to the material.’ To me, that’s part of this kind of old way of thinking, this kind of colonial way of thinking that a white perspective is objective and if you’re Black, Asian, or Latinx, then your perspective is somehow limited. I think we need to push back against that and realize that part of that is positioning yourself right. So when you reflect on who you are, how you came to this field of study, and why you are doing the work that you do, realize that everybody comes with certain biases, you know, their worldview is shaped by their experiences. I think when we’re honest about that, then we’ll, you know, get away from this binary thinking, that Black people who study Black culture, artwork, etc. can’t have a nuanced or critical view of what they’re writing about.

Sophia

So I guess my next question kind of relates back to that, so if you like don’t have anything else to add, that’s fine. Did you face any resistance in trying to teach in higher education? Did you have any personal apprehensions?

Dr. Layne

I didn’t have any personal apprehension. I think the idea of becoming a teacher was something I thought about even when I was a little kid, so I think there’s just always been that desire in me to teach. I think just because I love learning and I love sharing knowledge with other people. But there are moments when being Black female faculty can make things hard, like, you know, when I sometimes encountered students who don’t want to accept my expertise, you know, and sometimes it’s malicious. Sometimes it’s like, oh, you’re a Black woman, you can’t know anything about German, Germany, and sometimes it’s just, I’d say just a lack of exposure. Like I had a class once where the majority of the students were Black, and, and they were like, “Do you speak German?” I was like, “I’m in the German department. Of course, I speak German!” I’m like, I literally translate titles for you on the board. I think sometimes people are not used to seeing Black people who speak other languages. Their brains are just so resistant to it, you know? So, I’ve had that experience. I think being a woman of color. In the faculty it’s a little harder, things like evaluations are always going to be a little harder. It’s just something you accept because

you love to teach and work with students. My experiences have definitely been more positive than negative.

Last semester, I was teaching a class on the construction of race. I met a student who said I was the first Black professor they’d had in three years at UNC. That’s a big deal to me, like, I know how much it means to have someone you can identify with.

And for me, I went to the University of Chicago as an undergrad. I may not have had a Black professor till my senior year, but I know that I think when I was a freshman or sophomore, I had a Black grad student. I was taking this English class and one of the grad students was Black and I like so looked up to him. I was like, wow, he carries a briefcase. You know, he had a blazer with, you know, the leather pads and I was just like, Wow, he’s so cool. Like, I want to be that you know, which says something about me that I was like idolizing graduate students. But that’s what I mean like, you know, whether it’s a grad student, your TA, your language instructor, a tutor... I know what it means to be a Black person and to see people at those different levels in higher education and feel like they belong. I think it’s important.

Sophia

That’s good. Okay, the last question is how do you think that the racist history of UNC has impacted the ability of Black students to resist systems of oppression?

Dr. Layne

Hmm, yeah, that’s a good question. Trying to think from a student’s perspective, I think, if we don’t do a good job of hiring diverse faculty, then the students miss out. I think students of color don’t see themselves represented but also white students benefit from having diverse faculty. I think all students miss out if we don’t keep diversifying the faculty. I’d like to hope that Black students feel their opinion matters and that their concerns are being heard. I know there have been some issues in the past with the campus police, like how policing and surveillance happens around protests. So I think there can be some improvement there.

I think in terms of how the administration, like how the Board of Governors interfaces with students, there could probably be some changes there too. It’s just important to have stuff like the Black student movement and the Stone Center. In the past, there have been invitations for Black faculty to mingle with Black students. Maybe we could do more of that. I would like to meet more Black students from all kinds of disciplines. Let them know that I’m here because most people don’t know to look for me in [the German department]. Yeah, just make sure that faculty are listening to the student’s concerns and help support you all to shape the campus into what you would like it to be.

I learned a lot from speaking to Dr. Layne about being a Black woman in a predominately white

space. Before this interview, I had only thought about academic resistance through a student lens, but it was interesting to hear a professor’s experience. I think that Dr. Laynes answers reflect the broader problems surrounding race at UNC and other academic spaces. Her responses speak to encouragement and Black resistance through education and paving the way for Black students to be successful in niche fields.

2022: Year of the Black Quarterback

By Asheebo Rojas ‘23

With all of the entertaining and emotional moments seen in the 2022-23 NFL season, consider this takeaway; Black quarterbacks won.

The media said very little about it, but a record 11 Black quarterbacks started in Week 1, besting the previous record of 10 set in 2020. Those names included Jacoby Brissett (Browns), Trey Lance (49ers), Geno Smith (Seahawks), Justin Fields (Bears), Russell Wilson (Broncos), Patrick Mahomes

Photo courtesy of All-Pro Reels

(Chiefs), Jameis Winston (Saints), Dak Prescott (Cowboys), Jalen Hurts (Eagles), Kyler Murray (Cardinals) and Lamar Jackson (Ravens).

And, for the first time ever, two Black starting quarterbacks, Mahomes and Hurts, faced off in Super Bowl LVII.

Some of the best quarterback play came from these Black starters. Hurts and Mahomes dominated their divisions and led their teams to the best records in the league. Smith, on the other hand, had a career revival, putting up his best numbers since 2014 and leading his team to the playoffs.

Fields, despite leading a 3-14 team, displayed flashes of excellent football behind a lackluster offensive line. His play instilled confidence in Bears general manager Ryan Poles that he’ll be the starter in 2023 despite Chicago having the No. 1 pick in the upcoming draft.

Looking at the league’s past (and still present) perceptions of Black players, football wasn’t supposed to look like this. For decades, they were considered too athletic, not fit for leadership, and not smart enough for the position. White quarterbacks have been remembered for their glory while their Black counterparts have been defined by their shortcomings. A plethora of Black quarterbacks succeeding under the spotlight is a complete defiance of that, showing their non-stop persistence in changing the narrative. And with the league still being as electrifying as ever, it’s only right to celebrate it.

Just about every stigma placed on

Black quarterbacks faltered in the most recent NFL season. Remember what a Texas school district superintendent said about Deshaun Watson in 2018?

“When you need precision decision making you can’t count on a black quarterback.”

Mahomes would beg to differ. The Chiefs’ star led the league in total quarterback rating (QBR) during the regular season (77.6) and had the highest passer rating of any quarterback that played all 17 games (105.2). QBR is calculated by four metrics: completion percentage, yards per attempt, percentage of touchdowns per attempt and percentage of interceptions per attempt.

The proof is in the numbers just as it is on the field. Mahomes, a Black quarterback, was the best decision maker in the NFL despite what that superintendent and others like him think. His team also counts on him so much that he’s led it to its fifth straight AFC Championship appearance and third Super Bowl in four years. He hasn’t missed the conference title game yet as a starter.

What about the stigma that Black quarterbacks aren’t accurate passers and are runners first?

Just take a look at Smith’s film.

He made a handful of ridiculous throws this season, many of which required him to roll out of the pocket for open looks downfield. One of Smith’s most impressive plays came in the Seahawks’ Week 5 loss to the Saints when he rolled out to his left on the play action, hitting

tight end Noah Fant off of one foot for a 32 yard gain.

In that same game, he threw a 35yard touchdown to receiver Tyler Lockett through double coverage, showcasing his ability to hit targets from the pocket with precision.

Smith also led the league in completion percentage (69.8) while throwing a career-high 4,282 yards and 30 touchdowns in 2022. He not only had to play above the perceived view of Black quarterbacks, but he also had to outplay the perceptions made about himself from the failures of his early years with the Jets.

“They wrote me off. I ain’t write back, though,” Smith famously said about his critics.

Even the quarterbacks who are getting written off because of a disappointing 2022 have something to smile about; their contracts.

Wilson, who had the worst season of his career, and Murray, who suffered a season-ending knee injury, were among the four Black athletes in the top-five highest-paid quarterbacks in the NFL.

Prescott, who also had a down season, is in the top-10 highest-paid quarterbacks making an average of $23,750,000 guaranteed per year.

Whether they played well or were paid well, or both, Black quarterbacks had a year for the history books with much more success to come.

Sports Showcase

Photography by Savion Washington ‘23

Photos taken at the UNC vs. University of Miami Men’s Basketball game on February 13th, 2023 and the UNC vs. University of Pittsburgh game on February 1, 2023. Special thanks to UNC Athletics for photography access.