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This programme contains discriminatory language
- - ...New York's only black-owned radio station.
HORNS HONK, SIRENS WAIL
12B - the new black explosion... RADIO STATIC
And let's check the time.
It's 16 in front of 11 o'clock.
Who am I speaking with?
Eloise. Brought the first clothing for Africa.
Right on. So what can I play for you this morning?
Can you, please, play...?
No sooner said than done.
Black Is Beautiful by Trinikas
♪ I am not a typical teenager
♪ My skin is black... ♪
When art and politics converge,
it can be a weapon for change.
♪ But I just want to let you know
♪ That black is beautiful. ♪
"Black Is Beautiful" -
to me, it is a declaration of self-affirmation.
It's a wide open-arm gesture of love and inclusion.
An empowering slogan for some,
a way of life for others.
Because it really is what it is.
Black and beautiful is just the truth.
You've heard the phrase "black is beautiful"
but most people do not realise
where it began and the inspiration behind it.
They have atrocious housing in Harlem. Job discrimination.
There is, every day, discrimination against negroes in this city.
♪ Hafi Deo... ♪
We were told that everything good was white.
Everything bad was black.
When we talk about the Civil Rights Movement,
we tend to focus on Martin Luther King,
Malcolm X...
Take action. Any kind of action.
...but the Black Is Beautiful movement was trying to
free and liberate black people around the world.
GUNSHOT We are taught that black is ugly.
Black is evil.
At that time, a photographer
turned their camera towards purely what he found beautiful.
It was political in the best possible way.
He's capturing all these iconic moments,
all throughout history.
He really brought forward
that statement of "black is beautiful".
♪ Hafi Deo... ♪
Kwame's photographs changed society.
It took real sacrifices.
Everything we have today is taken for granted, all right?
And I had never heard the name.
His work is so prevalent.
I probably just didn't know it was Kwame's work.
How is it, all of these years, nobody's ever heard of him?
Hafi Deo by Tabu Ley Rochereau
This is Kwame.
You know, there was so much about my father's work
that was a mystery to me...
...but also even him as a person, right?
And I've had people say this to me quite a bit.
Like, he was a man not of many words,
like super soft spoken.
He could be a bit eccentric, a bit quirky...
And what are you doing over here?
...but more funny than quirky.
He was just a really sweet, sweet,
older black man who was very private.
I have a legal background.
Kwame's in real estate.
We were kind of living our lives.
Yeah. LAUGHTER
And I just remember when they visited, like, one time.
- Baba. - Oh, yeah.
Baba had just a folder, a regular old folder,
and he handed it to us
and he was just like, "Here, take a look at this."
And we were like, "OK, what's this?"
And we opened it. I remember this vividly...
It was a picture of the Righteous Brothers,
David Bowie, John Lennon,
Yoko Ono and Roberta Flack
backstage at the Grammys
that we had never seen before.
We looked at each other and we were like, "What?!"
Like, how is it, all of these years?
But then there was also this image of Muhammad Ali.
Still pretty. Look like a little schoolboy.
Typically, you would see Ali, he'd be smiling.
He'd be hamming it up.
Are you crazy? What's the matter with you?!
This one was this really pensive moment.
My father explained it was after all the cameras had gone.
- We were like... - "How have we never seen this picture before?"
- He goes, "I've got plenty of images..." - Yeah.
"..you've never seen before."
We kind of said, "Hey, can we help
"preserving, making sure it's organised and all these things?"
He was like, "No, that's fine. I got it."
- Baba! - Baba loves that.
It was my mother really kind of talking him through -
like, "They want to help."
Kwame's negatives were like...
...gold.
It took some convincing to remind him,
"This is your son.
"He's going to be careful.
"Nothing's going to happen to them."
I took about a year...
- ...for my mum to convince him... - Yeah.
...to allow us to get into where he had things stored.
This was huge for him.
He never allowed people
in his spaces
when he was dealing with his work.
- Yeah. - We walk in the room together and we're like,
"Wow, there's a lot more stuff."
I'm happy to bring it around. Is it packed?
- It is packed. - Happy to bring it around.
Magazines and the ticket stubs and the pictures.
I mean, there's so many. I mean, you can't even name all of them.
60 years of taking pictures.
It was all so exciting.
You know, get a new box.
You're like, "Maybe this looks interesting."
What do we got in there?
You know, it's Bob Marley and you're like, "What?!"
It's a great shot.
Like, this is pretty crazy.
Nona Hendryx. CHUCKLING
It was amazing
that we can flip through
and go and see James Brown onstage at the Apollo.
It's like, "What is going on here?"
It's like Stevie Wonder.
Little Stevie Wonder.
Photographs from Miles Davis's home with his children.
And the Jackson 5
and Diana Ross, and all these people.
He was like Forrest Gump.
We talked a lot.
Mum's asking if we're going to stay till they close.
In fact, we definitely found some good stuff.
I know, I know.
I think this is going to take...
Oh, definitely other trips.
I mean, we were just astounded and, frankly, shocked.
It was literally a treasure trove.
The first thing we did was like, "OK, what's known?" Right?
So, we googled my father's name.
And it tried to correct it to someone else...
...Kamau Brathwaite.
A poet.
And I said, "Oh, wow.
"There's literally nothing here."
And we literally locked eyes.
We're like, "Oh, my gosh. We have to do something about this."
I think we're familiar with lost history,
but I have been a patron of the arts for a long time,
and I had never been in a situation where such an established god -
half a century's worth of impact on us
that the general public couldn't name.
That's kind of unheard of.
I think it's shocking
how unknown, or underappreciated,
artists are.
And so that's, I think, part of the thrill,
though, in discovering them.
He was shooting actual history at that moment.
And so to have original moments
from the original moment, to me, is priceless.
So, how are you?
I'm fine today. Feeling good.
I want to know the stories behind all of these incredible photos.
OK, so, Kwame,
how did you get your start in photography?
Well...
...I got started in photography
while I was listening to what we would call "progressive music"
at the time
and that was jazz.
JAZZ MUSIC PLAYS
I had two brothers,
John and Elombe, Elombe Brath, who is a...
Elombe Brath! He's your brother?
But of course. Yes, he is.
Great guy! I love Elombe.
Kwame and Elombe were really close.
Like twins.
My father Elombe and my uncle Kwame, they loved jazz, man.
And that was... You know, that was their thing.
It's an American art form,
but it comes out of the experience
of black people in this country,
and they wanted to protect that.
- - Myself and Elombe got together some of the guys
in high school to form a social club,
and we called it the Jazz Art Society.
They were like, "Let's do our own thing.
"Let's have our own concerts."
Those of us who were artists
displayed our art on the walls,
right up the steps and whatnot
- and one of the pieces were collected. - Mm-hm.
Nobody bought it.
Somebody stole it off the wall, you know.
They were using their art
to talk about what was happening politically
in the United States in the '50s.
It was scary.
Emmett Till was black,
a northerner, visiting relatives
in the very different world of the Deep South.
He was 14 years old
when he was kidnapped,
tortured and killed.
His body had been weighted down
by a 75 lb fan from a cotton gin
attached to his neck by barbed wire.
An eye was detached,
an ear cut off,
and he appeared to have been shot in the head.
Some 50,000 people,
nearly all of them black,
turned out for Emmett Till's funeral.
But Emmett's mother, Mamie Till,
ordered the funeral director
to place her son in an open casket.
I hope that his death
will certainly start a movement in these United States
to clean up our own back alleys.
Kwame, upon seeing Emmett Till's bloated figure...
That really had such a profound impact on him.
In the lunchroom, one time,
at the High School of Industrial Art,
we saw some of the students
look very sad and look around,
passing around this little book.
- Yeah. - And...
...we went over to see what was happening
and it was a Jet Magazine cover...
- ...with a picture of Emmett Till. - Yeah.
That...
You might have known that it's a gross picture.
And I think it was one of the reasons
why he wanted to become a photographer.
He started photographing the jazz concerts.
We didn't completely agree
with how King and the rest of them were doing it.
- You did not? - No.
Facing dogs and fire hoses, and whatnot.
All right?
Thinking that we had,
and having more art as an instrument
for social change,
and using our art to reach people.
Activism, for many of us,
it can feel like being out on the street -
public display of resistance.
I think the work of Kwame Brathwaite
further expands that definition.
And he said he wanted people to feel
and experience
all of the art and the creativity
that he was hearing.
The violence, the racism,
all of the art was an answer to that.
Got my little camera that I got for graduation.
You had to plug in a flash holder,
put in a number five flashbulb.
Shoot it.
Take it out while it's hot,
so you can get the next shot.
I just fell in love with the texture,
the slight graininess of it.
His work has inspired me hugely.
The beauty and role of photography
is not just to exist in a vacuum in and unto itself,
but it's to reflect the times and to essentially
have a conversation with who and what is shaping culture.
The camera was his voice.
I don't think his parents...
They weren't too happy, I think, that Kwame got the buzz from that.
You know, with the immigrant dream - doctor, lawyer.
And you say your family background was Bahamas or something?
No, no. Barbados.
They came to adapt in America.
My grandfather worked six days a week.
We had at least two tailor-cleaners shops,
the epitome of what people would say,
"The American dream."
Would you say your situation was, like, middle class?
At that time, there was no middle class and whatnot.
You was all one class.
You were black. You were all one class.
New York City is a racial layer cake
and the bottom layer is Harlem, in Manhattan,
where most of the occupants
live behind the double bars
of poverty and a black skin.
My father and my uncle had an apartment in Harlem
after they moved out of my grandparents' house.
But I remember my father speaking about Harlem being,
like, the most amazing place to him.
It's just this hub of black greatness
in every way that you can think of -
black professionals,
black artists, you know, activism.
It is where black life begins and ends.
I couldn't describe it to a person
or tell them how to feel it,
like we feel it, but it's there.
Once they stepped in Harlem,
they'd know where they were.
Seven, eight, nine, ten...
♪ Summer night in Harlem
♪ Man, it's really hot... ♪
125th Street was just the Mecca for black culture.
You know, the pool halls, the bars.
I was raised in Harlem.
Nobody was dressed up like, "Oh, quick, let's take a picture."
Everyone was just moving in life.
You know, Harlem was bursting
with cultural expression -
with pioneers, deep thinkers.
You know, people like James Baldwin. Paul Robeson lived in Harlem.
The reverence that he had
for this neighbourhood
that was kind of their own.
There's so much hope there.
You just don't want to constantly feel
our story is one of pain.
He would have the camera and he would take pictures,
and show us the beauty that he saw when he was there.
It was daily.
- It wasn't - A - roll of film.
It was multiple rolls of film.
He made sure the images portrayed a certain message...
"There is beauty here too."
I love that he chose to show us happy
and that might be a reason why his name is not as big.
Because, you know, a lot of people like to collect our pain...
- Mm. - ...you know, as their trophies.
When you see Kwame's work,
you're like, "That's my childhood. Like, that's it."
There's a lot that's been made about the representation dimension,
which is very important,
but also how to compose an image
as a way to communicate viscerally
beyond just academically or intellectually.
There's an image in Harlem
that I personally have,
just his acute sense of form that impacts the viewer
in the gut and, here, and in the heart.
So, that picture is in our kitchen.
We want our home to be most welcoming,
reassuring and empowering to black people.
When you see his work, you see us.
And when you see his work, you feel welcomed.
"This is a safe space."
And some of the images that my father took.
There was this famous ladder that was just on 125th Street,
and that was the ladder
that street speakers would be up there speaking.
Listen carefully.
You never,
as long as you live,
integrate into the white man's system.
When you see someone standing on a ladder,
almost shouting, especially as a young person,
it's going to have an impression on you.
What was even more powerful were the words
that they were saying about Marcus Garvey.
Marcus Garvey. He was a funny, interesting cat.
Garvey said, when Europe was inhabited by a race of savages,
heathens and pagans,
Africa was peopled with a race of cultured black men
who were masters in arts,
science and literature.
Garvey tried to promote the Back-to-Africa movement.
One of the key concepts
was that we were not slaves,
we were displaced Africans
and you should also embrace your African culture.
Garvey said,
"People without a history is like a tree without roots."
But, you know, at that time,
if you called somebody an African,
they might pull out their switchblade and cut you.
If you called somebody an African,
you were looking for a fight,
you were looking for trouble.
My father, my uncle were strong proponents
of the Back-to-Africa movement
and they wanted black people
in this country being proud of Africa.
So, the Jazz Art Society
then became the African Jazz Art Society.
African Jazz Art Society and studios,
so AJASS.
The fact that they called it African Jazz Art Society,
when in, you know, '56 people
were still referring to themselves as Negro.
They were like, "No, no, no, we're African."
"We're going to establish something that challenges people
to think outside of what they've been taught."
- And getting political with it. - Oh, yeah.
Yeah. OK. Now, we're getting organised.
Teenagers - they were like 18, 19 years old
with a mission to make sure
that people knew our culture is worth embracing.
The Avengers. He assembled the Avengers in Harlem.
We started building up the shows with more African culture.
Miles, Abbey Lincoln, Max Roach.
And they were around these people, man.
It was a big success.
CHUCKLING
As a result of their work in jazz,
people knew about them throughout the city.
They knew about the Brathwaite brothers.
My uncle, I mean, he was understanding
what was happening in the world and educating people.
He was the orator.
And my father...
...was the one who was recording it.
It was this one-two punch
that was incredibly powerful.
Going through the archive with my father
was absolutely incredible.
It was a really pivotal moment in history,
but we also understood the weight of it.
I think we immediately felt, like,
"This is a piece of history that we need to preserve."
The archive wasn't in great shape.
It needed some additional love and care.
Anyone who knows about photographic archives
may think that it's very simple to preserve.
It is not at all easy.
With only maybe ten years of work behind me,
there's a constant upkeep.
And so Kwame's work -
we're talking now 60 years past the time
that a lot of the images were made.
Pre-digital, it was film, so we have to preserve these things.
And if you don't keep them clean and climate-controlled...
...they're lost.
We continued going through
and looking through the work,
and there's all of these incredible pictures of models.
It's when he started really kind of explaining to me
the concept of the Grandassa Models.
Him and Uncle Elombe, they were constantly on the phone.
It was always about how they needed to reach more people,
trying to educate people about who they are.
He would just pop on the phone.
1am in the morning,
the phone would ring, and it was like, "Can I speak to Kwame?"
Even the idea of forming Grandassa Models,
they had gone to see the Miss Natural Standard of Beauty.
- - The girls could not wear any make-up
or any straightening in their hair.
The winner, that year, was Clara Lewis.
Beautiful. Very dark.
- - The women, they would go to receive their prize
on Sunday evening, but then the hair
was already straightened again.
And Elombe basically said,
"You know, we have to find a way to get them to realise
"how beautiful they are and to keep their hair natural."
Generally, I don't think black women were proud of how we looked.
If you were my complexion,
you weren't really considered attractive.
No-one really wanted to wear their hair natural,
primarily because of where we worked.
To be beautiful, you had to emulate the other culture.
Black people had subscribed to
the established Eurocentric depiction of what beauty was.
This is a world we grew up in from birth,
where you don't even have to describe somebody
to tell you they're beautiful.
You see it in movies and TV all the time.
I started begging my mum for relaxer at, like, seven or eight.
And I would leave it on so long,
I would get lesions on...
Like, open sores
because I wanted it as straight as possible...
...because of what that kinky curl,
I am being told, represented -
messy, dirty, unkempt,
the absolute opposite of beautiful.
The captured image, still or in motion,
is the lens through which we see the world.
VOICE-OVER: It makes us ashamed of just being black.
And this has a deleterious effect on adults,
adolescents and children alike.
Growing up, I paid attention to the mirror.
I hated them
because I didn't like the image
I saw when I was passing by one.
I was growing to dislike myself more and more.
BELL RINGS
I was in my senior year at high school.
One day, this person,
she had this flyer about this show
that was supposed to happen,
called Naturally '62...
...with this group of women that call themselves
the Grandassa Models...
...women wearing their hair in its natural state.
And I took the flyer from her
and I said, "I've got to come."
I washed my hair and my mother, she was like,
"If that's the way you're going to wear your hair
"when you see me in the street, don't speak to me."
"OK, Mommy."
The atmosphere was so different
from what I was used to,
the way the brothers and sisters greeted each other.
My goodness!
♪ You know... ♪
I'm going to say, "The show started."
This was more than a show.
♪ Higher than a motherfucker
♪ Dreaming of you as my lover... ♪
The Grandassa Models were a ground-breaking group.
All heights, all body shapes
and sizes.
Models, on the whole,
are modelling to sell someone else's ware.
This group
was modelling
because they were proud of who they were.
They were people from the community.
It wasn't like these were models by trade.
They were a group of women who were activists,
educators, who just represented
this ideology of, like,
embracing your ancestry.
My mother became a Grandassa Model.
- - You're fine.
You don't have to change to
some other standard that's not our own.
We have our own standard.
I was searching for this!
I can't tell you how that feels.
Radical, avant-garde.
The personification of black nationalism and liberation.
We have the Buy Black print,
and I want my daughter
to see it every day when she leaves for school.
I want you to be reminded
of how powerful and beautiful
black women are.
At the end,
these two gentlemen came over
and then asked me
if I wanted to join the Grandassa Models.
I wasn't believing what I was hearing,
but of course I answered right away and said, "Yes!"
The two - that was Kwame and Elombe.
And I opened the door to leave.
So, we cleaned up the thing
and gave a second show that same day.
These people saved my life.
Elombe and I decided,
"We've got to do something to make black women feel proud."
Black is beautiful, you know?
First time really hearing that
black is beautiful.
Jesus.
So, the Grandassa Models helped promote the phrase
"black is beautiful" through
these fashion shows that they would do.
So, we're now pumping our chest.
We said, "We got to do this again."
We got a bigger place. So, we got the Sunset Terrace Ballroom,
which was on 125th Street, really newly renovated.
And the morning of the show,
we get a call and said, "Look, you got to get down here.
"The ballroom's on fire..."
"..because there have been rumblings in the community."
Some of the beauticians didn't like what we were doing.
At the time, black people were processing their hair.
Black men were still having a conk.
The beauticians really can't make any money with the natural.
It's bad for business?
It's bad for business.
"Jigaboo. Look at that nappy hair."
All of these derogatory things that our people said to each other.
"You mean you were having a show with some nappy head black..."
Using the B-word and whatnot.
"I'll be in the first row laughing!"
It was a little...
This is serious stuff.
It'll get real dangerous.
So, I said, "No, they're not going to beat us."
Elombe was always the leader,
but I was the one that used to do the groundwork
and put in organising.
I went to Hotel Theresa.
They had a ballroom upstairs. It was booked.
I went to the Celebrity Club. It was booked.
I went to Smalls. "What's happening today?"
He says, "Nothing" I said, "We want it."
"When?" I said, "Tonight."
I paid him for the night.
We posted somebody out in front of the Ballroom
and if some people came -
"Don't turn off the metre. Go to Smalls.
- They didn't start a half-hour late. - I'll be damned.
It was political in the best possible way,
because existing as a black person is inherently political.
To be free and black
is political.
To capture, for all eternity,
the beauty and the freedom of blackness
is the most radical act there is.
♪ Closer to my dream
♪ Running over me
♪ I'm getting high
♪ Closer to my dream... ♪
They always thought I was real cute.
And I always say this and people die laughing.
Cos my father would always tell us,
as children, how beautiful and black we were.
♪ Sometimes it feels like... ♪
When you were dark,
they sat you in the back of the classroom.
But I didn't have the hang-up.
I had my confidence
because Elombe and Kwame said so.
We had to show people
that we're here for a purpose.
We have a mission
to make our people feel proud and strong.
It was about opening up our minds
to be pro-black in every respect.
Buy black.
And, of course, with that knowledge,
you did become more political.
There was a lot of political activity going on.
My mother was a Grandassa Model
and they actually boycotted wig stores.
I'm very proud of them.
♪ Burning down... ♪
That first show that I was in...
...my family almost bought all the seats.
I had no idea we would be doing so many shows.
- - You'd have 3,000 people in an audience.
They're connecting
and they're beaming, and they're happy and proud.
It was building this incredible
Black Is Beautiful movement in the community.
♪ Oh oh-oh. ♪
What resonated to me about the Grandassa Models -
it was deliberate, posed statement pieces.
When he would photograph me,
he wanted me to express
everything about being African.
Just release it.
Why his work is so important in this day and age
is also because of the quality of the work.
Because of the care, the love,
that intimacy with his subjects
that you can feel
that photography won't allow you to hide.
That relationship between the model and the camera was just natural.
It was like having a conversation,
as opposed to it being a photoshoot.
Our past and civil rights movement,
everything is always treated
as this old thing on a black and white poster.
But this was a colour version
for us of something revolutionary.
- This one... - Yeah. Your ma.
This is my ma, or my mother.
This particular photo,
we just thought was amazing.
Just how stunning she looks and regal.
My mother, she became his primary muse.
I just thought he was the smartest person on the planet
because he knew so much about our history.
It was like... I was just,
"He's so handsome."
It was not love at first sight,
but very soon after meeting him.
The image of his wife, Sikolo,
with the headdress,
that's in my kid's room.
It's obviously so captivating and visually crisp.
It couldn't be more still,
yet it seems like you're catching
a candid moment in motion.
It is deeply personal,
especially when you find out that it's the love of his life.
You really feel a man in love with this woman,
you know, and wanting to uplift her in every way.
You're seeing a goddess, you're seeing a queen,
you're seeing the crown.
And truly, the colours are stunning.
That deep... I don't know what you would call that colour around her.
Why does it complement her? What even is this colour?
I have never seen this colour before.
Another thing that happens
with Kwame's portraiture
is he gets so close to the skin.
So much of American life,
Europhilic life
is avoiding black skin,
is avoiding actually seeing it crisply focused on
and having to deal with
why is it that it makes everyone avert their gaze,
yet focus on destroying it.
And you just have to sit with it...
...and just appreciate how incredibly perfect it is.
We know that the system doesn't look towards someone
who wants to centre darker skinned ideas of representation.
His decision to make art -
in spite of those things
that were even more constricting in the time he lived -
was even more radical, even more daring...
...beyond human expectations
and defying artistic conventions.
It just didn't happen,
you know, what Kwame was able to do -
photographing black skin,
even in the darkroom,
in terms of how he developed it,
that made it different.
He would come home from doing a photoshoot
and he would develop the film in our bathroom.
And that was a painstaking process.
He needed complete darkness.
Let's say I'd been asleep and didn't realise he was home.
I'm going to the bathroom.
I'm like... He'd be like, "Cut the light off!"
For most people,
being in complete darkness can be unnerving,
but I can sense his peace.
It's when he started really kind of explaining to me
how to make sure that our skin was represented in his work.
Even if you're darker, you can see shades of a complexion.
Like people say, they see colour in music.
Well, for him, that's what it was.
He was revolutionary.
He was determined that society just embrace who we are.
Black is beautiful.
It was really audacious
for them to come up with the idea of Black Is Beautiful.
You know, just from being in the Bronx,
in Harlem, that stuff took off.
It's now exploded.
♪ Black is beautiful! AIE a mwana... ♪
Black Is Beautiful.
The enthusiasm spread from each one of us to our families,
to our communities, to our jobs.
You would walk through Harlem and see the posters.
♪ AIE a mwana... ♪
And those images resonated with people,
whether they understood it or not.
It really changed the way we look at ourselves,
at the idea of what African people should look like.
♪ Baba Mama Rafiki... ♪
People were accepting themselves,
their natural selves.
Yes, I'm black. I'm proud of it.
I'm black and beautiful!
CHEERING ♪ AIE a mwana... ♪
Before Black Is Beautiful,
you didn't see us on television,
you didn't see us in the magazines,
you didn't see us in the newspapers except for negative things.
It was a beautiful time for us.
The work, they were international.
Whether it was the album covers he photographed...
...the black publications in Britain and Africa,
in the Caribbean.
You know, people see these afros,
they see Angela Davis.
We have to destroy the root of our oppression.
They didn't come up on that on their own.
The natural hair movement came out of the Grandassa Models directly.
We're born with our hair like this
and we just wear it like this.
Not all the bullets,
not all the bombs,
not all the speeches,
not all the movements,
not all the marches
have had quite the same effect in transforming the consciousness
of black people in America as this slogan -
Black Is Beautiful.
♪ AIE a mwana. ♪
- Are you a Negro, Travis? - No.
- Are you a funky, Travis? - No.
What are you?
I am black and beautiful.
Very good. Have a seat, young man.
Documenting and celebrating the nuance within a demographic
that is constantly represented as some monolithic group...
...it does a lot of work beyond his lifetime.
It was a historic day in Washington,
the grand opening of the Smithsonian's
National Museum of African American History and Culture.
With the ringing of the 130-year-old Freedom Bell,
President Obama officially dedicated the National Museum
before a crowd of thousands on the National Mall.
- - So this National Museum
helps to tell a richer and fuller story of who we are.
A story with a chapter that was never fully told until now.
My parents went down to
the National Museum of African American History and Culture
in DC after the big grand opening.
It had been lauded as the place to go for our history.
Kwame and I saw all the historic things. He was elated.
And then I was like, "Oh, I wonder what they said about us,"
you know, in my head.
And it turned out
that there was absolutely nothing in the museum at all.
Nothing about what the Grandassa Models did,
AJASS and its role.
It's as if we didn't actually exist.
They took a picture and sent it to me and it says,
"Black Is Beautiful was started by African-Americans in the 1960s."
And that was the extent.
For me, it was like...
Almost as if I was being delusional.
And so it was just deep disappointment for me.
It's a shame.
And it's kind of one of those things that you, as an artist,
don't like to think about,
that there was someone with all this great work
throughout his lifetime not being recognised.
When you've created something so pure,
work unapologetically and with a singular focus on our freedom...
...it has to hurt.
Kwame's reaction was it, you know, it made no sense.
"This doesn't make any sense."
You know, like annoyed anger.
The story hasn't reached them yet.
How do we get them the truth?
How do we rectify this?
I said, "Look, I think we have something really beautiful.
You know, let's figure out how we can
share that beauty with the world.
We started archiving, but also,
like really trying to capture and record the stories.
First of all, we had to get a spot to operate out of.
- So... - We'd just hear story after story.
He was able to look at like a contact sheet and know
name, place, date, time, who was there.
And he introduced us to...
...um...
...um...
Goodness! Of course.
But then his memory first started to go.
And, um...
...er...
Pause.
It was like, "Oh, OK.
"He's not remembering things as well as before."
Um...
Mm, mm, mm, mm.
Well, anyhow.
- - A couple of friends had said to me, "Oh, I saw him.
"He was crossing the street.
"He took a long time to cross the street."
When I would ask him, he was like,
"What are they talking about?
"I'm fine.
"There's no problem."
He was macho.
"They need to mind their business."
But he was very, very proud.
Yeah.
Yeah.
We don't have forever, right?
We don't have forever to do this.
I was worried it would all be lost to time.
I want my father recognised in history books.
I want AJASS and Grandassa Models recognised by people.
I feel like the world needs this story.
But as a legal person and a real estate person,
we didn't really know what we were supposed to do.
I started researching a little bit more.
Just us trying to learn about the history
and piecing things together.
There was not much, even on the internet, about any of this stuff.
It was like, "We have to speed this up."
He's not quite... You know,
he has his good days and he has his bad days.
I mean, we were just googling,
like, trying to find anything about,
you know, the Grandassa Models.
And we happened upon Tanisha.
Tanisha Ford, who had written a chapter of her book
- about Grandassa Models. - Yeah.
We reached out to her.
And I was like, "Oh, my goodness!"
Like, this was a dream come true.
I immediately... I don't think I waited even an hour
to write them back.
I was like, "Oh, yes, you know, I definitely want to meet with you."
She was like, "Are you kidding me?
"I've been trying to find you," you know?
I grew up in a household wearing Black Is Beautiful t-shirts.
I really saw myself as a daughter of the movement
that Kwame Brathwaite's political ideas helped to birth.
For years, I tried to get in touch with Kwame.
I had to publish the book without ever hearing from him.
So, when I eventually received Kwame Jr's email,
that allowed me to finally meet Kwame Brathwaite in the flesh.
And he was a rather small man,
but big in warmth and generosity.
Salt and pepper hair -
more salt than pepper.
I've got to see other things
that they had found in his archive.
Finding Tanisha was so pivotal,
even just the curiosity,
but it also created a greater knowledge base of, like,
what everything was.
It's historians, like me,
who are trying to trace these seemingly lost histories.
You know, it's not just his kids telling stories.
There are other people who are now corroborating.
And I wanted to help share their story...
...but I had so many questions...
...and the conversation just flowed.
He was telling me about how
the Black Is Beautiful movement took a life of its own.
Once black nationalist ideas go mainstream,
it often strips them from the movement itself.
Now, out of the midst of 3,000 years
emerges today's beautiful black queen.
Naturally beautiful.
Your natural expression of pride
is beautifully expressed with Afro Sheen.
Until that point, there weren't that many products
for black women to use.
It brought about a big change.
It gained a life of its own.
Black became not only beautiful, but good.
Good for advertisers.
People are using it to sell hair products.
And to sell, you know,
whatever it is they're trying to sell.
Everything from cigarettes to alcohol,
to blue jeans.
It's for brothers, all right.
- Sisters! - Brothers! - Sisters! - Brothers!
It works.
Bashful by kwes.
If it was a black company making the product,
it was a good thing.
But of course, you know,
the larger companies took over
and they stole it.
To watch it be bastardised
and used to exploit our own people,
when it should have stayed a source
of power and strength in the community.
It cheapened the message...
And for a soulful cornrow...
Afro Sheen's Blowout Kit!
...to the point where people were confused
about even the origin of the idea.
It is not, perhaps, everything the slogan makers had in mind.
This becomes another way
that Kwame and Elombe
are marginalised in the history,
because now if you can find
"Black Is Beautiful"
plastered on any billboard,
what do you need to go to these guys as a source?
He didn't even get wrapped up in that.
Or "Why am I not getting my credit?"
They weren't in it for the money or the fame.
Being a Pan-Africanist,
being a creative,
he used the medium that he loved
to advance us as a people.
Kwame Brathwaite becomes a house photographer for the Apollo Theater.
- - The entire world's most famous theatre. - Fact.
And it is iconic.
Everybody who is anybody
wants to perform at the Apollo.
The Supremes and Marvin Gaye, and James Brown, like...
And then imagine Kwame being the young, starry-eyed photographer
who is able to capture all of this magic.
His role as the house photographer
for 15, 20 years was just incredible,
because you're getting to see the beginning
of a lot of these people's careers.
When I first met Kwame,
he was at the Apollo taking photographs.
The audience would be 100% black.
You saw very few Caucasian people there.
Kwame was like, "Why are you here?"
And looked around.
I was the only one that looked like me.
And I showed him the magazine.
He didn't know Blues & Soul from Playboy.
It was like, "Really?!
"England?"
The first issues of Blues & Soul were kind of amateurish.
We used to sell them around the record stores in London.
1970 was the first time
we could afford for me to go to America.
There was an immediate bond between he and I.
It was kind of a cause
that we had to develop black music
as an entity around the world,
and we worked out an arrangement
by which his photographs
would be used in Blues & Soul.
You Can Win by Bileo
There was a payphone backstage at the Apollo.
In between their sets,
he would try and get them to come to this payphone
to do a five or ten-minute interview.
Sometimes they were stiff sitting there.
"Yes. No."
I think that Kwame helped to relax them.
It was just who he was, his personality.
He would often get pictures
that nobody else would ever get.
One instance was with Roberta Flack.
She was out there rehearsing,
doing a sound check without make-up on.
If a publication had come along and said,
"Can we take pictures of you with no make-up?"
"No, you can't do that."
Or her record company would have stopped us doing it.
♪ If you want to... ♪
Thanks to Kwame, Blues & Soul always got the first story.
Barry White,
Marvin Gaye,
Aretha,
Al Green.
But we both wanted the Jackson 5.
The Jacksons were huge at the time.
You couldn't get interviews with them.
So, for Kwame to go to Africa
with the Jackson 5...
"How the hell did you do that?"
It's like,
"Can we meet Michael?
"Call me.
"Can we meet Michael?!"
You know, "Who did you give money to? Who'd you have to sleep with?
"I mean, how did you do it?"
He was all excited.
When I first met him,
that was the goal, going to Africa.
He was probably packed three weeks before he left.
He probably got to the airport eight hours early.
Back to Africa, right?
We are displaced Africans.
We need to go back to Africa.
- - Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.
I welcome you with the world's greatest entertainment family,
the Jackson 5.
It's a huge coup.
I don't even know that Time Magazine were able to cover it.
He talked his way onto it one way or another.
It is a pleasure to be here,
the motherland of where we came from - our ancestors.
I think it was a really important trip
for both the Senegalese people,
but also for the Jacksons.
I thought it was going to be like the Africa in Tarzan.
I didn't think it was going to be very tall buildings.
Not, you know, that modern.
I remember growing up, you get off the plane in Africa,
you think you're going to get a disease.
You know, you're thinking everywhere is the jungle,
and it's not.
They didn't want us to go to Africa.
They are now being informed about what's happening in Senegal
and what was happening on the continent.
VOICE-OVER: A truly rewarding experience,
making it known to the group
that Africa is their home, too.
I think, for my father...
...it was important for him, too.
Once he got there, he was immersed in the culture
that the Jacksons almost played second fiddle.
He's like, "Oh, they're here - fine - but let me do this!
He must have taken 10,000 pictures there.
The smell of Africa...
...the flowers,
the plants,
the animals
and the people there.
Dakar is a wonderful city.
I remember the first time I was there...
I mean, literally sitting on Goree Island,
where the slave ships came in and out
and just sitting there and thinking,
"All the people that have seen the same thing I'm looking at..."
I cried, literally.
It was very moving.
I think, when he went to Senegal with the Jacksons,
he made a point of going there
so that he could sit there and experience it.
It was the awakening that,
everything that he had learned about Africa,
suddenly that door opened for him.
He and his brother, Elombe,
they went to seven countries.
My father said they had a programme where you could travel in Africa.
They said, "Travel now, pay later."
He said, "We travelled, but we didn't pay later."
They were in Sudan.
They were in Egypt.
They went to Mali.
They were in Nigeria,
Tanzania.
And him writing back to let us know what, you know, was happening.
When I first met Kwame,
his name was Ronnie.
Ronnie Brathwaite.
He officially changed his name to Kwame on that trip.
From here on in,
scratch the Ronnie and replace it with Kwame Brathwaite.
And wait, let me see the date of this article.
Oh, March! He beat me. Oh, man!
I always joke and say that...
...people didn't start calling him Kwame until I was born,
so I used to joke that I was Kwame Sr.
He wanted us to actually
just embrace the idea of this cultural connection
because we don't know what we lost
in our transition across the ocean.
A lot of doors are opened for him.
"Oh, you're the guy that went to Senegal with the Jacksons.
"Wow. You must be special."
Well, he was special.
1974.
This is me and Muhammad Ali.
My uncle took the photo.
This was in preparation leading up to the Rumble in the Jungle.
The biggest boxing match, I think, in history.
Muhammad Ali - what, in essence,
he is as a person connected with Baba.
That Africa's the cradle of civilisation.
Originally, man's from Africa.
All civilisations started in Africa.
Now I'm thinking like this.
I'm talking like this.
These people here.
So, now, they want me to fight here.
This fight is for the freedom, justice,
equality of the black man in America.
He was very vocal about equity and injustice
and so they had a kinship.
Ali was coming back.
Foreman had just beaten Joe Frazier.
I mean, people thought that Ali was going to die in that fight.
He talked about how, Ali,
he was in this mood that he had never seen him in.
He said, "I don't know if that's when he came
"up with the rope-a-dope or what,
"but I just know...
"..it was something that I wanted to capture."
Scores of sports writers and newsmen from all over
the world have arrived at this unique event -
Africa's first title fight ever.
Satellite television will carry the fight to millions overseas.
This place will become the centre of the world.
BELL DINGS
You know, Ali to win that fight
in the style that he did,
it made it more iconic.
Africa was becoming more prominent in the world.
And these were the first baby steps.
I think in his own way,
Kwame helped that process along.
He was developing a level of credibility
as a photographer beyond Blues & Soul.
It really speaks to Kwame Brathwaite's unique vision,
the level of respect that he received from his community.
They trusted his eye.
They trusted that he wasn't trying to exploit them.
Famous people started and wanted his work.
Bob Marley.
It made sense that they would bond the way they did,
being these freedom fighters.
You know, he used to wake me up to Get up, Stand up, which...
- Every morning. - Every morning, so I...
I did not like Bob Marley for a very long time.
You know, when people saw him with Bob Marley,
who didn't trust anyone...
...Bob opened the doors
for so many other people.
Miles Davis has him,
"Hey, come down." Like, "I want you to take some photographs."
Kwame and Stevie Wonder were really close.
We went to Stevie's birthday party.
When Stevie had the listening party for Songs In The Key Of Life,
Kwame was flown up.
One night there was a call,
"Kwame, get over to the hospital."
"The baby was just born.
"Get pictures of Stevie Wonder
"and Yolanda and the baby in the hospital."
The level of trust that these people had for Baba
is because they recognised they're kin.
That kind of truth that he was always coming with,
they loved him, they loved him.
Baba was at the height of his career.
We lived across the street from Central Park.
We were on the border of Harlem. Spanish Harlem.
My name is Kwame Brathwaite.
What are you going to do when you grow up, Kwame?
- Be an artist. - Do you think you'll be famous?
- Thank you. - Hello, Michael.
- Hello, Kwame. - Hello, Michael.
Funny, I laugh at that video because I was like,
"I'm already famous cos my dad's name is Kwame and I'm Kwame," right?
But when we'd be in Harlem, people would be like,
"Hey, Kwame, what's going on?"
So, I knew that people knew who he was.
I thought the world of him.
He was my superhero.
But I was closer to my mom,
just because my father was always out.
"Oh, I have to go on this trip.
"I'll be out of town for a little bit of time. I'll be back."
It was always something.
Kwame's independence
was one of the compromises
because I knew that this was really who he was,
and that comes at a cost.
My mother, she had to support that lifestyle.
Yeah, because we did so many things together initially,
the various events and rallies.
When I was pregnant with Kwame Jr,
the editor of Essence reached out to Kwame
that they were featuring braided hair.
So, then, I was selected.
That's amazing.
But with the children, my life changed.
Changed dramatically.
And not necessarily for him.
It did not change.
Yeah, it didn't change in terms of what he was doing.
We were supposed to go together, to Africa.
Then at some point, we just weren't discussing it any more.
She worked.
She was an executive director at a day-care centre,
kind of that dual role of being a breadwinner
as well as a person who ran the household.
One steady salary and one that fluctuated
was one of the issues that I think I was aware of.
Cos it wasn't like she didn't want him to follow his passion,
but there were conversations,
there were spirited conversations.
He even quoted a few times,
"Sikolo, you're not more important than the whole race."
Yeah.
Which a woman does not necessarily need to hear.
And so I was like, "OK."
I mean, it's still a little bit strong,
but he really was...
He's like, "No, think about it.
"What we have to do, this is important to our people."
It's really hard.
Marriage is not easy.
Mom sacrificed so much.
Financial sacrifice.
Time sacrifice.
The ability to, like, travel...
...or purchase a home.
This is family work, right?
And Kwame Brathwaite's sacrifice is multi-pronged.
He's making a certain kind of sacrifice,
leaving his family to travel around the world
to connect with political leaders,
heads of state in various parts of the African continent.
Because there were still African nations
that weren't free from the clenches of European colonialism.
- - This was Soweto, near Johannesburg,
the start of a series of violent black protests
that were to sweep across South Africa
in the following months.
The riots were widely seen
as a genuine expression of black frustration
with the whole apartheid system.
There were several policemen in the back of the truck
hiding in boxes, and they popped up.
GUNSHOTS
My father and uncle thought the fortunes of black Americans
were tied to the fortunes of our brothers and sisters
in the continent.
If you came from Africa in the '50s, and '60s, '70s, '80s,
they told you, "Go to those brothers over there on 125th St."
And that was the address of AJASS.
Kwame and I would host people from Kenya,
South Africa, Namibia,
and they were petitioning the UN
so that they could become governors of their own land.
He became political allies with them.
And finding out what support they needed.
You couldn't send guns, but we send material support,
monies and boots for the troops and stuff like that.
For 30 years, we helped them, all right?
We would bring them to Harlem.
We created so many demonstrations.
We're demonstrating against colonialism,
against the apartheid regime in South Africa.
We presented African liberation members
that later became presidents of their countries.
Dinner with an African president,
that was normal for us.
Baba and Uncle Elombe were activists
bringing light to something that was unfair, unjust.
But what they did definitely kept eyes on them.
My father and my uncle were under surveillance by the FBI.
Anybody that covered what they did
in the support of the liberation of our people
was a target.
- - There are 6,500,000 files at the FBI.
Not on criminals or suspects...
...but private individuals.
The head of the FBI was not thrilled
about just African activity
and people... you know... to Africa and all that.
You know, they were being monitored and watched.
The Bureau's operations infringe upon constitutional rights...
...for excessive use of wiretaps and questionable use of informers.
We knew that there were agents.
We definitely knew that people were being placed around.
I'm old enough to remember, all right?
I mean, I was a kid then, but I'm old enough to remember.
My mother was concerned.
Um...
You know, it's like, I never know if he's going to come home at night.
Seeing what happened, historically, with other people who spoke out...
Not when the men down town sees fit,
but when we see fit.
...you do worry.
I would just pray about what was happening.
Yeah.
And Mom understood it.
They say what - "she understood the assignment?"
She did.
It's infectious.
There was never even a second thought.
Because we're one people,
you know, different locations, but we're all one.
As Kwame said, "The race is first."
We're going to rally behind him.
Baba means chief, king,
head of household, and that's who he was.
So, this is a sacrifice.
You're sacrificing your very freedom in the fight for freedom.
It reflects the commitment to the liberation
of all black peoples around the world.
I love that checklist that he had
- that we found in the archives. - Oh, yes.
- Yeah. - OK. This country, "Liberated," checked off, right? - Checked off.
And we kind of figured out
everywhere that he had been in Africa
and how many countries that he helped in terms of liberation.
It's really, really...
It's powerful.
In your life, you don't meet very many people...
...that you can honestly say, "I'm glad I knew them."
He's one.
To say I'm proud of it,
proud of what he went on to achieve,
of course, I am.
Very, very proud.
So, when Nelson Mandela was inaugurated,
for them, that was almost...
"We've finally achieved,
"you know, all the things that we've been working for."
Congratulations, man.
My first trip to Africa
ended up being to South Africa
for Nelson Mandela's inauguration.
It was amazing.
We were overlooking the whole event.
When I just think about it,
it was unbelievable.
- - Thousands packed into Cape Town's Grand Parade.
The people of South Africa have spoken in this election.
They want change,
and change is what they will get.
CHEERING AND APPLAUSE
Then, in return, they were part of the group
that brought Nelson Mandela to Harlem
to speak on 125th Street.
This is the pledge that I make
on behalf of all the freedom fighters.
Brothers and sisters,
comrades and friends,
you have claimed our struggle.
There is an umbilical cord
that ties us together.
So, let us act in unity.
Let us double and redouble our efforts.
Death to racism.
CHEERING
When Nelson Mandela came here,
my father was the moderator.
I'm so proud of him.
CHEERING AND APPLAUSE
Hello to Elombe, your brother. I didn't know that.
- Yes. - You come from very good stock.
- Oh, yes. - I see by...
- Elombe's great. Give him my best regards. - Will do.
I haven't seen him in far too long.
Right. You know, right now,
- he's still in the nursing home. - Oh, is he?
- He had a stroke and whatnot. - Oh, I didn't realise this.
Sorry, I'm terribly sorry.
Yeah, yeah.
As Elombe got to the point where he really had deteriorated,
Kwame, I saw him literally, like,
lose weight and lose weight.
And Kwame was never thin.
I was concerned.
You know, that was tough.
I saw it in him, you know.
He was there... When my father expired, my uncle was there.
Baba, he tried not to show emotion.
That was the first time I actually saw him show...
...grief, sadness.
His best friend, the guy he'd been rolling with for, you know...
...70 years.
It's good to see all you folks out here.
You know, when you're younger, you can be selfish.
And, you know, there's a point
where it was about me.
I was, like, living my best life.
My father carried me.
HE EXHALES
He paid my bills,
my childcare,
put money in my pocket to help me with my family.
You know, I didn't have my son till I was 40 years old,
because I didn't think...
I said, "I'm not going to have a kid
"until I can do what my father did for me.
"What my father did for me."
Yeah. So...
I... You know, as I got older,
I realised how fortunate I was.
You know, I hit the jackpot with my parents.
You know, he didn't hit the jackpot with me being his son,
I hit the jackpot with him being my father.
How you doing, big boy?
Are you OK?
My uncle, Elombe, and my father spoke every single day.
His loss, for Baba,
was, like, really devastating.
Not only was he dealing with memory loss,
he was one of the last people from AJASS left.
This man who had given so much
without asking for anything in return,
and the world still had no clue who he was.
I wanted to make sure the truth of all their work,
all the things they had fought for, wasn't forgotten.
So, I kind of sat down next to him.
It was like, "We'd really love to do a book.
"It'll be a really good platform to get those out there,
"and, hopefully, we can get people really to find out about the work."
Seeing what Kwame and Elombe envisioned,
the book became what he really wanted to do.
He was like, "For me and Elombe, I want to do this book."
He had done his work.
It was placed upon us to kind of make sure that people see
the world through his eyes.
Blow, Dad. Blow. Blow!
- Yay! - Yay!
Now we're the ones that have to kind of step up.
I was going back and forth, from California to New York,
grabbing negatives.
We moved everything into an art storage.
It was really amazing
to be able to feel and experience, and do the work.
To get to know him more -
as a man, as a father, as a husband.
Tanisha was brought on cos of the work she'd done.
Oftentimes, families are very protective
of their family members' narratives,
and it meant so much
when they asked me to write
the essays for the book.
We knew that...
...it was going to take time
as his health started to deteriorate.
We were being really efficient with what time we had.
That's when we started doing
a little more digging on our own
and not simply relying on him.
Kwame and Elombe,
all our commitment to finish
that book was just...
It's, like, heart-warming.
and he was really, really excited
about what was happening.
Kwame Sr was, like, super-guarded, right?
And not letting it really grow.
I could completely understand that.
You want to keep it safe, you know what I mean?
And make sure it's in the right hands.
Sometimes just what's in our DNA,
When it finally matches up with destiny,
we wind up continuing
in the footsteps that our parents began.
Making the time to pick up
the baton from his father.
We're all so grateful for it.
Through the process of collecting their stories,
I call Kwame Brathwaite "Baba",
I call Sikolo Brathwaite
"Mama Sikolo"
because they have become my family.
Known by his friends and comrades as "the keeper of the images",
Brathwaite's images envisioned what black beauty
might look like in the 1960s.
It was really a beautiful collaboration,
but I went into it not knowing what to expect.
You don't really actually know what people will think about it.
Honestly, I was nervous.
When we launched the book,
people were like, "How did we miss this photographer?"
It exploded.
The now-84-year-old photographer
and activist popularised
the Black Is Beautiful movement.
You can be proud of who you are,
as you are, in your natural state.
Brathwaite's son manages his father's archives.
This one holds a special place in his heart.
It's his mom.
I'm getting calls from, like, Facebook friends
who I was friends with in childhood who were like,
"Ooh, I just saw your mom's picture!".
I was watching a programme and I started screaming
because they showed the Grandassa Models.
It was, like, so thrilling to see that.
Black celebrities used their platforms to amplify the work.
Somebody sent me a photograph of Beyonce,
and the Kwame Brathwaite book was on her desk.
Gabrielle Union and Dwyane Wade.
I mean, Alicia Keys and Swizz Beatz.
We want people to be collectors of our own culture.
It's meant to also remind you that you belong in these spaces.
To have Kwame a part of this collection has just been amazing.
Jesse Williams, all the work that he's done.
I was on a TV show called Grey's Anatomy,
and, wherever my character lived,
I put up black art on those walls
and licensed that art,
made sure those artists got paid.
The image of Kwame Jr's mother,
I put right in the centre of my character's living room.
Rihanna was using Kwame Brathwaite's photography
for her fashion campaign.
When she posted that picture,
we were just like, "Oh, my gosh."
It would have been very easy
to just reference it
and not pay homage to it.
Makes so much sense.
She's from Barbados, he's from Barbados.
Before I was born...
All of a sudden, the exhibit's touring.
Images in the Black Is Beautiful book,
the tip of the iceberg.
Probably had somewhere around 500,000 images.
So, we're really just scratching the surface.
I think he's doing a wonderful job, and that's why I support.
Kwame's work has become extremely powerful
in how we are confronting conversations
around identity globally.
What is it like for you to see his work being honoured here?
You know, it's a dream come true.
How are you handling your new-found success?
Just trying to get along
and trying to keep it going,
keep it going,
due to this guy.
KWAME SR CHUCKLES
He was really happy.
And he said this was one of those moments
that he, like, would always remember,
because it was a time where he was finally being recognised.
Please join me in giving a round of applause to Kwame Brathwaite.
CHEERING AND APPLAUSE
All of these good things were happening...
...and after all those years of working
and documenting our Black Is Beautiful struggles,
it's just...
It's amazing.
My mother retired to ensure that he was cared for in the proper way.
That's just who she is.
If you have a mate,
then it's your responsibility to really work with them.
When you find out what it is that you want to do in life,
and you're clear about that,
then my role is to support that.
You live a whole life sometimes and never find out what it is.
There's something that they bring to the world
in terms of their creativity.
That's a gift, you know?
It's not necessarily the dollars,
but it's a gift.
And we're fortunate we're living in the time
where we get to experience their creativity.
I got a phone call from my mother
and she was crying, but I didn't understand why.
And as she was crying and trying to explain,
it hit me, and I understood, like, what was happening.
He was in hospital care,
and she had gone home to change
and she was coming back the next day.
And then they called
and said he was...
You know, he had passed.
- - Kwame Brathwaite,
the ground-breaking photographer
who reminded the world
that black is beautiful,
died last weekend in New York.
He was 85 years old.
Black is beautiful.
And it's not just a slogan,
it's a state of mind.
It's an energy.
It's a power.
And I just want to let Kwame know
that I loved him
and he made a difference in my life.
Yes.
- So, thank you. - Baba! - Uncle Kwame!
Whoo!
I hope they make it upstate.
It's so hard to change people's minds about just anything...
...right? Try to change someone's mind in the United States about,
like, who they're voting for.
And, like, you know, you couldn't possibly do it.
But he changed the way people see themselves.
And he changed the way other people see us.
This is who we are.
By the way, all of us,
because we are all from this foundation.
Sometimes we need to be fed and reminded
of what black freedom looks like.
People are dismantling the country by the day.
All of the diversity and inclusion,
and all the programmes, and all the money.
And we're not getting our history in school.
We're not getting our sense of self or place as citizens of the globe.
We have to be the gatekeepers
and torchbearers of our own self and history.
There is beauty in recognising your fullness.
There is beauty and worth in seeing all of that in yourself.
The people that he impacted,
all of these amazing people that came out and, like,
spoke about his impact on their lives
and what he did for our culture...
He achieved, like, everything he was supposed to do.
I want to leave,
behind me,
something as beautiful
as what Baba left.
And in fact, when I asked what he wanted to be remembered for,
and I thought he would say something about the photography,
and he was like, "No, that I loved my people."
What an amazing person.
So...
...I just feel like I'm honoured
to be able to continue
to carry this on. To...
To represent him, you know,
in the best way that I can.
And so I loved it.
What he did for us and for our family was established.
Something that, you know, can't be taken away.
He lived an incredible life.
Black Is Beautiful by The Trinikas
♪ Now that I have the chance to be free
♪ The decision to be is left unto me
♪ I've been praying for more things than ever before
♪ I'm not gonna stop till I open the door
♪ You got to have it
♪ Determination
♪ You got to have it, y'all
♪ Determination
♪ Because you need it
♪ Determination
♪ So get on with it
♪ Determination
♪ Oh, yeah
♪ You got to have it
♪ Because black
♪ Black is beautiful
♪ Oh, yeah
♪ Yeah
♪ Oh, listen to me, baby. ♪
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