#Black9

I really love how “Black Twitter” is truly a community. Whether it be television or tragedy, we have found a way to share our experiences through social media. In the wake of the Charleston, South Carolina shooting the hashtag “Black 9” was started—people tweet the names of nine people who inspire them. Participation is contagious. So, to honor those who lost their lives at Emanuel AME church and those who inspire me to do something about it, in no particular order, here is my Fade To Black #Black9 list:

Ava DuVernay

I think that I became an Ava DuVernay fan even before I saw Selma for the first time. While watching interviews and reading about her I became enamored. I find her drive to be contagious. She makes me want to tell stories. Ms. DuVernay reminded me that it is still possible to a Black woman and participate in the liberation struggle through the screen. After seeing Selma twice, I felt like I had to validate my undying fandom. So, I spent four fantastic hours watching her two other films, I Will Follow and Middle Of Nowhere. I loved them just as much as I loved Selma. Although these films are different, like Selma, they both succeed in putting Black women at the forefront and reiterating the humanity of blackness that often seems to get lost in clouds of self-doubt and White supremacy. Ms. DuVernay’s blockbuster hits are just as combustible as her indie gems. To put it simply: she’s fierce. 

Oprah Winfrey

Cliché, I know, right. But it’s only a cliché because we all know that she is a force to be reckoned with. Oprah inspires me because she has done it all--news casting, acting, producing, talk-show-hosting, writing, running a network, you name it. It seems that with Ms. Winfrey, it’s less about a specific job or niche, and more about what she brings to the table as a person. She is Black woman who runs things. Not only does she run things, but she also runs them with the purpose of bringing truth to light. I think that should be a goal of anyone in the industry, especially those who come from a lineage of oppression. I also appreciate Oprah because, in her rise to the top, she has brought people along with her. That’s community building. When I make it big (Philippians 4:13 on ‘em), helping others to pursue their dreams will be a priority. I have faith that someone will help me along the way, so I plan to continue the cycle. Thank you Oprah for teaching me this lesson. 

Tyler Perry

Before you start on your elitist, pseudo-intellectual, Black Nationalist rant, let me just say that I understand and in some ways agree. But hear me out, okay? There’s a reason that he made this list. Mr. Perry complicates stereotypes. I think that we are made uncomfortable by this complication because it forces us to confront racially rooted clichés. The issue with this confrontation is that Black people aren’t the only ones watching his films. I always say that it’s not his films themselves that bother me as much as the thought of White people watching them. But, if everyone weren’t watching his films, then he probably wouldn’t have made this list. He tried, failed, and then rose to the top. 1 part struggle and 2 parts dream equals a success story that inspires. Say what you will, but this man writes, directs, produces, has is own studio and acts in his own films, not to mention stage plays and television shows. He runs the whole process, something Black leaders have been urging us to do economically for years. If nothing else, he gives us laughter, something our community is desperately in need of. 

Lupita Nyong’o

It means a lot to me to see a face that looks like mine, not only on the screen, but also holding an Oscar. It may seem simple, but I like that a dark girl is an “it girl”. Her existence and celebrity rejects the hackneyed idea that Black is not synonymous with beauty, talent, poise, and intelligence. If her Oscar acceptance speech were a person, it absolutely would have made this list. I’m hoping that her moment in the sun is not ephemeral and will not be chalked up to tokenism. She is our jewel and I pray that she doesn’t fade away, like so many other Black actresses. In closing, please allow this quick rant: Let’s all learn how to pronounce her name. Just “Lupita” doesn’t cut it for me. We should give one of our brightest stars the respect of honoring her entire name. She spent three years at Yale perfecting her craft; the least we could do is take two minutes to learn how to pronounce her name. Carry on.

Mara Brock Akil

In the late 90’s and early 2000’s Brock Akil dominated the world of Black sit-coms. I am inspired by her because she has mastered the art of making portrayals of blackness simultaneously real and funny. She has furthered her exploration of Black womanhood through her BET hit Being Mary Jane (which I desperately need to catch up on). The idea that even the simplest of Black stories are worth telling is so important. I also really love that she and her husband, Salim Akil, are in the same business, often working on the same projects. Who doesn’t love a power couple? She keeps it raw and classy. I like that. 

Justin Simien

In the days leading up to 2014’s Academy Awards, I watched a special on Black cinema (shocker). Right before commercial break they briefly mentioned this indie film that may or may not make it to theaters, Dear White People. Naturally, the title sparked my interest and I later went on a two-hour YouTube binge (the first of many), watching any and everything I could find on the film. His “The More You Know About Black People” videos are genius. Satire is extremely difficult to write because it forces writers to mold ugly truths into digestible (or in Simien’s case comically forceful) pills. He does this artfully. I was euphoric when I saw Dear White People…On my birthday… With a group of other conscious Black students… After eating hole-in-the-wall soul food… Yas. I sat there thinking “I want to do this” then later, “I can do this.” Siemen inspires me because he’s young, witty, and conscious. He makes me want to be a part of this generation of Black filmmakers.

Shonda Rhimes

#TGIT. Need I say more? Yeah, I probably should, huh? With every cliffhanger, we are reminded that so many people feel like they know her on a first-name basis. That says a lot. How many screenwriters, let alone Black female ones, can be considered household names? She is responsible for three of the most popular shows on television: Grey’s Anatomy, Scandal, and How To Get Away With Murder. Her stories have penetrated our homes and given communities something fun to rally around (probably the 3rd thing I did when I got to college was search for fellow #Gladiators). Indiscretions aside, she has also put powerful Black characters on primetime television. That’s huge, culturally and psychologically. I also realized that she’s responsible for keeping Genovia alive by writing the Princess Diaries 2. This calls for an elevation to bae-status.

Cicely Tyson

What I like most about Ms. Tyson is that she is a fighter. For years she has held the banner of Black pride high. Admittedly, I know more about her from specials and documentaries and her recent work than I do from her earlier pieces. However, I think that says a lot about who she is and her legacy. She inspires me to be legendary. I am still learning what all that entails, but I think leaving a mark that shifts the way we think is a part of it. By only accepting roles gilded in truth, she had an impact on the way Black people see themselves and the way the world views Black people. Our value extends far beyond stereotypes. She continues to execute her craft with grace and skill. So many of us want to be like her. I understand why. 

Angela Basset

Angela, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways. As an actress, she has a unique transformative ability. I never her view on screen as versions of herself, but instead as the embodiment of full immersion, hard work, and reality with each role she plays. From a young Tina Turner to the newly grooving Stella, she always has and continues to remain fabulous. I admire her most because she is someone in the entertainment industry who got her education first. I attribute some of her characters’ depth to her Yale African-American Studies degree. She reminds me that there is more than one path to greatness in this industry. Education and art do not have to be mutually exclusive. She is someone that I can remember in times of doubt. Thank you, Ms. Basset. May your Black never crack.