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Black History

Black HistoryCampusCultureHealthLifestyle

Black Bruin Resource Center, Afrikan Womxn’s Collective, and UCLA Alphas host “Shop Talk” to cultivate community

by Mariah Yonique Strawder 06/26/2026
written by Mariah Yonique Strawder

On May 19, 2026, the Black Bruin Resource Center, Afrikan Womxn’s Collective, and UCLA Alphas came together for the first “Shop Talk” event. This event brought the Black UCLA community together and engaged in meaningful conversations centered around the Black student experience. 

The shop stems from the Barbershop Talk series that is hosted every quarter by the Black Bruin Resource Center and the Alpha Phi Alpha chapter at UCLA. During these events, Black men at UCLA get together to build community, discuss the realities of being a Black man on campus, and get free haircuts.

The Black women on UCLA’s campus also sought the need to build community in a similar way. Inspired by the Alpha’s Barbershop Talk series, the Black Bruin Resource Center Afrikan Womxn’s Collective, and Afrikan Student Union came together to hold the first Beauty Shop Talk in March. The Beauty Shop Talk provided Black women on campus the space to come together and talk about challenges within the community, how Black women are treated on campus, and how Black women could support and uplift each other.

Amariah Scott, BBRC student staff, on the importance of events like Beauty Shop Talk:

Cultivating spaces for Black women is so important because many of us often navigate environments where we do not always feel seen, heard, or fully supported. I wanted to start Beauty Shop Talk to create a sense of community and a safe space where Black women could come together, be themselves, and feel valued. This event was intentionally held at the end of Black History Month and the beginning of Women’s History Month to celebrate and appreciate the Black women on our campus. Seeing that Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc. had been hosting Barbershop Talk as a space for Black men to connect inspired me to create a similar experience for Black women. I reached out to the Afrikan Womxn’s Collective and Dr. Tunstall to help bring this vision to life. At this PWI, there are very few spaces dedicated specifically to Black women, despite the challenges we often face, including racism, colorism, sexism, and discrimination. Because of this, we need to build community, uplift one another, and have spaces where we can openly discuss our experiences and concerns. Beauty Shop Talk helped create that space by bringing nearly 50 Black women together to engage in meaningful conversations about beauty standards, our hair, support, and sisterhood. 

During the Beauty Shop event, the attendees discussed how urgent a community discussion event was between the Black women and men on campus. That’s when the BBRC, Afrikan Womxn’s Collective, and UCLA Alphas came together to host the first-ever Shop Talk Event. Shop Talk was a much-needed conversation for the Black Bruins on campus. Some of the major themes explored were mentorship, building community, and upholding tradition. 

Nommo talked more with Amariah Scott to gain more insight on the event, what could be approved, and goals for the Black community moving forward: 

Question 1. What did you think about the Shop Talk? How important did you think the conversation was?  

Amariah: Cultivating spaces for Black women and men to come together and discuss issues within the community is important because it creates opportunities for understanding, accountability, and unity. After hosting both Beauty Shop Talk and Barbershop Talk, there were many conversations about how we could bring these spaces together. We decided to host The Shop Talk event so Black men and women could openly discuss ways to better support one another and strengthen our community. When creating the discussion questions, we wanted to be intentional and ensure the conversations were honest, productive, and solution-oriented. While Black men and women may experience different struggles, it is important to acknowledge that we are all impacted by issues affecting the Black community. Having open conversations about where gaps in support exist helps us become more united.

Question 2. How could the event be improved? 

Amariah: Although I was very happy with the turnout, with nearly 80 RSVPs, I think one area where the event could be improved is encouraging participants to feel more comfortable being honest and open about the issues discussed. During the separate Beauty Shop Talk and Barbershop Talk events, people seemed more comfortable speaking within their respective spaces. However, during the first half of the Shop Talk event, there was some hesitation when it came to openly engaging with one another across genders. It took time and breakout groups to help break down some of those walls and create a more open environment for discussion. Once participants became more comfortable, the conversations became much more meaningful and productive. Although the discussions we had were impactful, I believe future events could go even deeper into the challenges our community faces.

Question 3. After this event, what do you hope for the Black Bruin community moving forward? What steps do we need to take to address the gap between mentorship, building community, and upholding traditions?

Amariah Scott, 3rd year: After this event, I hope the Black Bruin community continues creating more open, honest, and supportive spaces for one another. I hope students leave knowing they have a community they can rely on and that people continue reaching out to their accountability groups to check in, build relationships, and support one another beyond the event itself. This event was only the beginning. Real change happens when people continue these conversations in their everyday lives and make intentional efforts to connect with their peers one-on-one. I also hope people felt seen, heard, and encouraged through these discussions. I hope upperclassmen recognize the importance of reaching out to underclassmen to mentor and guide them, especially at a PWI where community and support systems are so important. I also hope Black men and women continue stepping up to support one another and work toward strengthening unity within the community. Traditions and community-building events are important because they create opportunities for connection across different class years and experiences. For example, after discussions about preserving the tradition of spicy uno, students organized a game night event where seniors would teach underclassmen how to play. Moments like that are important because they turn conversations and concerns into action. While Beauty Shop Talk, Barbershop Talk, and The Shop Talk will continue, what matters most is that these conversations, relationships, and acts of support continue year-round on a personal level throughout the Black Bruin community.

Moving forward, Nommo hopes Black Bruins can continue to come together and have meaningful conversations about our experiences on campus and support one another with open arms. It is critical to recognize the strength within the Black community at UCLA. As a small minority on campus, it is important that we stick together in any way we can. This looks like giving a smile and nod to every Black person you see on campus. It looks like attending community events for the sake of building community rather than grabbing a free plate of food. It also looks like having conversations with peers that push beyond simply asking “how are you?”

If you are interested in learning more about the Barbershop Talk, Beauty Shop Talk, or Shop Talk events, please visit @uclaalphas, @uclabbrc, and @awcatucla on Instagram.

06/26/2026 0 comments
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Arts & EntertainmentBlack HistoryCommentary

No Laughing Matter: Resistance and the Redefining of Afrikan Humor

by Orisha Lamon 05/15/2026
written by Orisha Lamon

When you’re at your grandma’s or cousin’s house for a sleepover, there is somehow going to be a movie either featuring, or referencing, Eddie Murphy and his comedic craft. Murphy is a figure that has defined much of Afrikan comedy alongside comedians and writers like Arsenio Hall, Paul Mooney, Robert Townsend, and Keenen Ivory Wayans – also known as The Black Pack. The Black Pack, shaped comedy around the Afrikan experience, around Afrikan cultural production and community. While the argument that these productions partake in systemic webs of white consumption and racial capital point to an overarching contradiction, commentators like Artel Great frame this “post-Blaxploitation” era of film and comedy (if you could even call it post) as a point and tool of resistance. With its audience in mind, the Black Pack highlights aspects only the Afrikan experience could really pick up on, not in a dog-whistling, subliminal messaging way but as an obviously comedic and dramatized reflection of Afrikan life far removed from the lens of racialized stereotypes. Instead, the Black Pack depicts archetypes that humanize and promote the multiplicity of being Afrikan – rather than a characterization in a white visual medium, it is its own cultural production, and through this production (which remains sensationalized and commodified through whatever means of consumption) it emerges as a reference point for cinema history and rejects the violent origins of film and humor stemming from anti-Afrikan violence and the maintenance of white supremacist ideology as seen through Amerikkka’s first picture film, “The Birth of a Nation”.

There is a slight skepticism in framing humor as resistance, especially as expressions of joy are intertwined with a notion of exclusivity and ignorance to a material reality. Much of cultural expression has and is commodified alongside this growing question of resistance, and redefining it with consciousness requires us to struggle against racial capitalism and its extension. In doing so, we should shy away from emphasizing identity politics and calls for representation, and turn our attention to needs redefining of expressions life and the confines of a material validation. I, however, found the way Artel Great explains resistance through Amerikkka’s Afrikan comedy supergroup to develop a fascinating approach to how humor was utilized as a tool of resistance. Humor is reframed not as a way to entertain and assimilate to an industry but as a moment that displays and creates relationships to Afrikan culture, community, and a lived experience that could only be felt while busting out laughing after seeing the remnants of Jheri Curl juice on the couch in “Coming to America”. Places such as the church, the barbershop, hair salon, and the corner store where folks working and passing each other everyday become a part of a mundane tradition that is then recounted through a lens of humor, fiction, and relatability. “Coming to America” is an example of reframing this experience of Blackness by bridging relatability, humor, fantasy and culture with identity politics and demands for complex representations of Afrikan people. Through the geographic and cultural aesthetics, “Coming to America” varies class distinction with a fascinatingly fictional narrative of an Afrikan country of royalty that engages with the lived experience of working and middle class royalty in Queens, New York. The creations of both Zamumba and Queens as spaces of Afrikan social and artistic expression as well as cultural hubs of community depict an outward humanization and normalization of Afrikan life, contesting the stereotypical and racist characterizations housed within the media. Instead, “Coming to America” highlights the possibility of life, a fantasy that centers on Afrikan imagination, and engages with the implications of Afrikan freedom in the fictional realm and beyond.

While writing this, I find myself still grappling with this question of humor as resistance. In a contemporary sense, humor has been an overly sensationalized tool platforming identity politics rather than a struggle  – there often is a reinforcement of recognition and visibility that work in ways that both organize structure with capabilities of mobilization but also engage with systemic order of consumption – this dual work of connection and sentiment informs a relationality between interactions with humor as a tool of resistance, but also one to redefine outside of a white capital medium.

05/15/2026 0 comments
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Arts & EntertainmentBlack HistoryCommentary

Museums Suck: The Getty’s Black Photography Exhibit

by Faith Olaleye 04/21/2026
written by Faith Olaleye

Marble floors glisten with the warm light emitting from the fixtures above them, as thousands of footsteps parade in a hush, portraits of civil rights leaders and everyday people lining the walls of the Getty Center’s latest exhibition, Photography and the Black Arts Movement. 

As a lifelong artist, I’ve been taught to venerate the museum, though I never have. One of the essays that got me into art school centered on how these spaces never felt like home to me. They were white walls and spotless floors, the individuals centered in the paintings which lived within them just as pale as the surfaces on which they hung. I must have overlooked the splendor everyone else drew from them. Maybe I wasn’t tapped in enough, maybe I wasn’t a “real” artist, since museums have “real” art, and thus are the only valuable places to consume it from. 

But in museums, I rarely see myself, I rarely see us. That’s because those who fund them have no connection to the fervor that produces the poignant works I’m moved by. Paintings that I whisper to my brother about, questioning how an artist perfectly articulated a cultural reference. The people whom I, as an artist, if I wish to somehow gain any footing or advancement, must please. I entered the walls of the Getty with that same mindset and chilling understanding. In some part, this belief was broken by the presence of a Black exhibit that was both broad and visually stunning, but my issue with the institutions remains. 

As a Black person, particularly a Black artist, I’m well aware of the environment that museums cultivate. They provide a transaction to a visitor, and are precise about who they feel is worthy of participating in that trade. In exchange for a facade of sophistication and refinement, the visitor gives their three hours to the marble halls and cascading gardens of the environment. Most of the visitors, though the crowd had some racial diversity, were clearly those who could afford to take time out of their day to venture out and look at art for hours. They entered the space with the hopes of gaining cool points amongst their friends and colleagues for being able to expatriate about the Gauguin they saw during their time there, based solely on the placard placed beside it, which they briefly skimmed. 

People of color and those of a lower socioeconomic standing are rarely welcomed to take part in this transaction. Museums, akin to golf, are oftentimes reserved for those who have the time, finances, and triumph in the geographic lottery to be able to enjoy them. Furthermore, those who decide what work is shown, and which stories those works tell, don’t often uplift the voices and experiences of Black artists. Which is why this exhibit caught my eye.

The lower level of the west wing was filled with the work of numerous Black artists, like L.A.’s own David Hammons. One particularly striking work was a portrait of a man in the early 70’s, adorned in an all-white suit, whose eyes didn’t meet anyone who looked like him until I walked into the room, and most likely didn’t again until quite some time after I’d left. And while the exhibit was extensive and spanned multiple mediums, from painting and photography to mixed media installations, the gap between the work and the audience was increasingly evident. This was most clear in a moment where two teenage girls chose an enclosed room whose walls were pasted with newspaper clippings of wars and uprisings to be the site of their TikTok. It calls into question what purpose is served by an exhibit that so beautifully displays the history of a people, when those very people are rarely given access to the space it inhabits. 

This conflict with museums and the relationship Black artists must have with them has been circling my mind since I began my formal art education in the Fall. I’d been thinking of myself as an artist, my values, the ethos that shines through in my work, and the audience I wish to speak to. Many of my peers echoed similar concerns about the balance between artistic integrity and making a living. So I, considering that my staunch stance could be rooted in youthful defiance, sought the opinion of those more experienced than I’ve grown to be. 

I asked a peer, quite my senior, who’d worked in the industry across mediums and came back to school to pursue a graduate degree, what they thought. We discussed it, and my opinion stayed firm. We each echoed the same things, not quite sure of the solution but certain of the issue. At one particular moment, we dared to proclaim that museums had lost their relevance. Most people don’t frequent them, and in terms of cultural cache, they’re akin to a 1996 MC Hammer. We noted that many artists are moving away from the museums and that we, as Black artists, must create our own spaces and alternative forms of showcasing.

There’s a cruel tug of war in which Black artists are coaxed to engage. Either strip your work of its seasoning to ease the palette of the culturally disconnected individuals who you need to fund your work, or safeguard your flavor and potentially forfeit financial success and the security of an established career in the arts. I dare to say, we must put down the rope. And maybe, if we’re lucky, our final tug before letting it fall will reverberate and mollywop the institutions on the other end. Maybe it won’t. 

I acknowledge that it may be wishful and naïve thinking to believe it is possible to authentically create and still make a living, but that’s the same reasoning that allows the culturally severed, but financially tied, to maintain the upper hand. My suggestion is that we, as Black artists, must create our own spaces, where the work not only reflects us but is accessible to us. Curators like Gabrielle Narcisse and Robert Provilus, with the BLACK STARS exhibition in New York this past Black History Month, have already begun creating a blueprint for how that can come to pass. 

While the struggle between unfettered expression and financial stability will likely persist, continuing to center institutions that are incapable of connecting with the cultural collective consciousness is neither beneficial for the progression nor the ownership of Black artists and our audience. 

04/21/2026 0 comments
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Arts & EntertainmentBlack HistoryCampusCultureGender and SexualityLifestyle

Black Girl, Take Up Space: Lessons From JaNa Craig

by Mariah Yonique Strawder & Samantha Talbot 04/11/2026
written by Mariah Yonique Strawder & Samantha Talbot

Black women are so often told that they need to work twice as hard to get half as far as their non-black counterparts; unfortunately, this adage is proven true time and time again across everyday life, politics, and media. This is even true for reality television, notably dating shows, where Black women are overlooked, scrutinized, or forced into stereotypical labels that do not reflect them in the slightest. Take the infamous Love Island, where the Black female contestants are ignored by the male contestants, torn apart by the media, or often both. Despite this, the Black women of Love Island have repeatedly risen to the occasion, persevered against negative opinions and vitriol, built strong fan bases, and garnered national success. Love Island contestant JaNa Craig is one such woman who has become an inspiration to Black girls who are reaching for success, trying to fit into spaces that do not welcome them, or simply looking for love. 

Black365 is an organization at UCLA that brings speakers to campus to highlight Black history and culture outside of Black History Month. On February 18th, 2026, Black365 hosted its first ever event. Black365 brought up JaNa Craig, one of Love Island USA’s biggest stars, to talk about shaping her narrative as a Black woman in media, her journey in business, and relationship advice. 

Nommo Newsmagazine had the honor of talking to Black365 Founder and UCLA Student, Runor Pinnock, about why creating spaces like Black365 is important and the significance behind having JaNa Craig as one of the organization’s first speakers.

“In the midst of budget cuts aimed at defunding Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion initiatives and increasing attempts to suppress culturally significant aspects of our university, Black365 was created with the intention of filling in the gap I saw as a black transfer student. I wanted to ensure black students- especially those who struggle the most to acclimate to campus, like transfers and commuters- had a safe space to gather where there was no need to code-switch, dilute, or subdue themselves. Forming a space like Black365 where joy is built into its fabric- from the speaker down to the questions- must exist so students can feel supported wholly and be unashamed of their blackness. One of the most powerful tactics of resistance is joy, and having JaNa Craig as our first speaker, who personifies black joy, was so monumental.”

Though there was much to learn from JaNa Craig, there were a few standout lessons that every Black girl (and young adult figuring out their way in life) should hear.

Lesson 1: Make Sure Not to Fit In

When asked how she owns her narrative and identity as a Black woman in society, JaNa Craig expressed the importance of not settling in life. Having strong, unshakable morals is key to preserving your identity in a society that can shift its views of you on a whim. She also noted that the company you surround yourself with plays an integral role in who you become: “Be careful who you call your friends,” she shared. As a self-proclaimed “military brat” and usually one of the few Black students in her high school and college classes, Craig said that between constantly moving and never truly fitting in any one place, she often felt alone. However, she would make sure not to fit in, and urged others to do the same, “since you’re already standing out.” She made a conscious effort to wear her hair how she wanted (and to set boundaries so people wouldn’t touch her hair) and to make friends with anyone and everyone, especially those who might have felt as alone as she did. Though college can be an isolating time, one where you’re more aware of how you stick out than ever before, Craig encourages positive self-talk, and reiterates the simple yet comforting notion that “it’s not that deep.” She herself believes that faith and a “whatever happens will happen” mentality are the key to preserving your peace in the volatile young adult years. 

Lesson 2: Let People Underestimate You 

When asked what it’s like navigating a male‑dominated industry as a dark‑skinned Black woman, JaNa Craig spoke with honesty about the pressure to represent girls who look like her. Instead of running from that responsibility, she uses it as motivation. “I like when people underestimate me,” she shared. For her, underestimation becomes power when you stay humble, stay educated, and refuse to let labels define you. Still, she acknowledged the reality that Black women often “have to work twice as hard, be twice as nice” just to be taken seriously. She framed that struggle as a generational investment, hoping her great‑grandchildren won’t have to endure what Black women face today. Craig also emphasized the importance of surrounding yourself with people who reflect your values, reminding the audience to be careful about who they call their friends. Above all, she urged young Black women not to settle, grounding their ambitions in strong morals and a deep sense of self-worth.

Lesson 3: Know Your Worth

When the conversation shifted to how Black women were treated in the villa and how she handled the backlash that followed, JaNa Craig grounded her response in self‑worth. She reminded the audience that the right person will never make you feel insecure, and that loving yourself first is non‑negotiable. “Never forget your worth,” she said, urging young women to focus on their careers, their friendships, and their own growth. She emphasized that there is no rush, “you have time”, and that when your person enters your life, you’ll recognize it by how you feel about yourself, not by how loudly they perform love. For those who have been disrespected in relationships, she offered both compassion and clarity, insisting that you only have one life to live, so spend it wisely. Craig shared that she believes in karma and that if you are in the right, things will naturally work out in your favor. “You will naturally get your lick back,” she joked, but quickly added that she ultimately puts everything in God’s hands. She said she’s grateful even when people do her dirty, because it teaches her about herself and makes room for new blessings. In her eyes, every loss becomes a lesson, and every setback becomes a setup for something better. As she put it, “It will always work out for you in the end.”

As we reflect on the Black365 event with JaNa Craig, the knowledge gained, and the lessons learned, Nommo spoke with event attendee Da’Vionnah Hutchinson, who shared how Craig’s honesty and confidence shaped her own understanding of what it means to be a Black woman taking up space in this world.

“As a young Black woman, hearing her speak after watching what she went through on Love Island felt personal. I remember watching those moments play out in real time and feeling frustrated and honestly hurt by how easily she was overlooked and reduced. So being able to hear her unpack that experience herself, in her own words, felt like a full circle moment I did not even realize I needed. Being a Black girl on campus, you get used to seeing things play out a certain way, especially when it comes to how Black women are treated and perceived, so hearing her talk about her experience on Love Island just confirmed a lot of what is already known and felt. But what stood out more was the energy in the room and the way she and Serena showed up together. There was something real about that bond, something that did not feel forced or for show. It felt like two Black women choosing each other and standing firm in that choice, and that is not something we always get to see in spaces like that.

Despite everything that happened on television, JaNa spoke with so much confidence. She did not deny what happened or try to make it seem lighter than it was, but she also did not let it take anything away from who she is. It reminded me that even when spaces do not treat us the way we deserve, we still have control over how we carry ourselves and how we define our worth. Jana was serious about being her unapologetic self. No shrinking, no trying to make themselves more digestible, just fully existing in who they are. As a Black girl, that matters. We often feel like we have to adjust how we show up depending on the space, but seeing that level of confidence and authenticity makes it feel like it is okay to just be. Not perfect, not overly polished, just real. Overall, it just felt good to witness that kind of con\helnection and to hear someone like JaNa speak with that level of honesty. It reminded me that there is power in being yourself, even when it is not always easy, and that seeing Black women support each other like that is something that should be normal, not rare and I’m glad to have experienced it at an event hosted by Black 365 (shoutout Runor).”

As Runor said, JaNa Craig embodies black joy and love, which in itself is a form of resistance. Especially for Black women, expressing joy and loving ourselves and others is countercultural. It is incredibly important, now more than ever, that we as Black women cultivate spaces of community and belonging to support each other through the ups and downs of school, love, and life. Black365 will be hosting more speakers and events in the near future, so be on the lookout for more opportunities to engage in these spaces. 

04/11/2026 0 comments
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Arts & EntertainmentBlack HistoryCampusCulture

Back to Black Wednesday: A Night of Jazz

by Faith Olaleye 03/31/2026
written by Faith Olaleye

Students sit huddled on couches in a dark room, red light pinging off the brass of a saxophone as a steady baseline echoes from the double bass. Drums couple with warm piano chords, leading the way for the blaring sax. This was the scene as students gathered in the Black Bruin Resource Center for Black Wednesday, a tradition started by the Afrikan Student Union at UCLA in the early nineties. 

Started as a way to celebrate culture and foster the Black community on campus, events like this continue to unite students decades later. Joined for a night of live jazz and performances, dozens of people bustled into the BBRC, many there for different reasons. Some students expressed that they try to make an effort to engage with events held on campus by Black organizations as a way to further connect with their peers. Others, many of whom were transfers and freshmen, attended as an opportunity to become more involved with the Black community at UCLA and better acclimate to such a large environment. 

Janiyah Williams, a third-year transfer student, said the BBRC was the first place she felt comfortable being herself on campus. Spaces like Black Wednesday are crucial for Black students at UCLA. At an institution where we make up less than 7% of the undergraduate population, it’s easy to feel alone and disconnected from the community. 

We asked some students what they believe should be done to continue making spaces for Black students on campus. Many said events like movie nights, tailgates, and speaker sessions hosted by numerous Black organizations at UCLA have provided opportunities for them to connect with peers and find a sense of community. Others expressed that they often don’t know where to look for events or find fellow Black Bruins. Listed below are some orgs that prioritize uniting Black students on campus.

By attending events like Black Wednesday and utilizing spaces like the BBRC, students can better connect with the Black community at UCLA. Gathered for a night of jazz and camaraderie, students found a space to be themselves and meet fellow Black Bruins. We can’t wait to see what the next Black Wednesday has in store. 

Resources:

@blackbruins

@uclabbrc

@uclablack365

@houseofbruin

@aacsatucla

@ucla.cod

@uclaeastafricans

@csaucla

@harambeeucla

@nsa.ucla

@culturalaffairs

03/31/2026 0 comments
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Black HistoryCommentaryCultureOpinion

“The clothes do not make the man”: Changing the narrative on the perceptions of black men and boys

by Julia Elizabeth Perry & Mariah Yonique Strawder 02/12/2026
written by Julia Elizabeth Perry & Mariah Yonique Strawder

While Black boys and men share the experiences of racism, prejudice, and bias throughout their lives, there is often an evolution of how this discrimination presents itself. While in older age, Black men are often not taken seriously or treated as professionals, Black youth are taken too seriously and not allowed to act like children.  In their youth, Black boys are disproportionately punished in academic settings and expected to mature much faster than their non-Black peers. They are treated with less patience and understanding of the concept that, as children, they will act playfully and make mistakes.  

In a 2024 study, UC Berkeley Professors Sean Darling-Hammond and Eric Ho found that Black students were 2.5 times more likely to face suspension in school than their white counterparts. Of course, the impacts of this pattern go far beyond academics and create a troubling mindset for overpunished Black children. They go on to have poor self-esteem, little interest, and, in turn, success in school, and turn to paths outside of education, sometimes leading to incarceration or other illegal and dangerous activity. 

While this problem is prominent, it is exacerbated by the media, which often shows the outcome of this overpunishment and racism faced by Black men, with violence and negative portrayals of them dominating the media. Rarely are positive stories of Black men succeeding despite the racism they faced and continue to face reported on. On the flip side of things, the violent acts and prejudice that Black men across the U.S. experience every day are underreported, as the attention usually goes to white people with similar experiences.

TikTok & Streaming Culture

TikTok and streaming culture as a whole contribute heavily to the way Black men are represented in the media, as most of the top creators like Kai Cenat, iShowSpeed, Duke Dennis, and more are Black men themselves. 

When asking Black men at UCLA about streaming culture and its implications for Black youth, we got this response:

“I think there are a few positive role models for Black boys; however, a lot of positive role models are overshadowed by not-so-positive media personalities. With TikTok and streaming culture, so many people are chasing a clip. So Black boys see creators such as Kai Cenat, Rakai, or iShowSpeed, they mimic everything they do, the good and the bad. I believe Kai Cenat is a somewhat positive role model, but still has some work to do. At the same time, it is unfortunate that Black men choose to look up to these creators, but at the same time, we don’t have that many people leading us in the right direction,” – Orlando Johnson, first-year UCLA student. 

If we as a community continue to label this type of content as entertaining rather than disreputable, it will be destructive for the development of Black boys. We must push content that allows Black boys to see that they can be more than what the media and content creators show them.

While streaming culture often promotes harmful content and behavior among young Black boys, it is ever-changing, and lately has been for the better. Recently, the two most popular streamers on Twitch, Kai Cenat and iShowSpeed, have pushed out content that influences young boys in an educational and positive way. 

Kai Cenat shared a video of him doing 20 minutes of reading on January 1st, 2026, to “improve the way that he speaks.” While to some this appears as performative or a way to gain positive attention and offset backlash from controversies he’s been involved in, it is bound to have an influence on his young, impressionable audience and encourage them to read books. 

iShowSpeed has recently begun a 28-day series in which he plans to visit 20 countries in Africa, immersing himself in the culture and activities of each place he visits. In doing so and publicizing his travels, he is debunking many of the stereotypes surrounding Africa and showcasing the diversity in culture, lifestyle, and people across the continent. For Black boys who are hearing about Africa at school only through the topic of slavery or if their peers bring up stereotypes, this publicity can be extremely influential and change the narrative.

The actions of Kai and iShowSpeed should not go unnoticed. We hope other creators will follow their wave and do the same in order to shed a more positive light on the way Black men are represented in entertainment and for impressionable Black boys.

Quarter Zips, Matcha, & Respectability Politics

When Black men exhibit behavior or participate in an activity that is viewed as unconventional and outside of the stereotype held for them, they tend to get a lot of attention, both online and in real-world settings. While some of this attention is positive or appears to be positive, much of it is sneakily negative. They continue to be labeled as “YNs,” and typically receive comments that are extremely backhanded and imply that what they are doing is outside of what is expected of them, even if it is something as simple as drinking matcha or wearing a certain type of shirt. Comments such as “professional YN,” “wholesome YN,” “cheerful YN,” etc., often flood the comment sections on these videos, with the abbreviation “YN” meaning “young n*gga.” Regardless of the word preceding YN.

In November, almost everyone opened TikTok to see the start of the “Quarter Zip Movement”. Black Men were shifting the narrative. They were no longer wearing Nike tech hoodie and sweatpants sets and ski masks; they were wearing quarter zips and drinking matcha. This movement has sparked conversation about Black men’s representation based on clothing and appearance. 

“The Quarter Zip movement is a rapid surge of respectability politics that tells Black boys and men that if you drink matcha and wear a quarter zip, then you’re a respectable human being; if you don’t, you’re seen as a YN,” Tehilah Favour Ofumbi, UCLA Student.

Jason Gyamfi, Founder of the Quarter Zip Movement says that the entire point of the movement is to allow Black men to feel comfortable in “trying new things, expanding your palette, and expanding your horizons of what it is to live this life, coming from a neighborhood where I live these things [matcha and quarter zips] are not something you see on a day-to-day basis” He goes further by mentioning how beautiful it is to see Black Men who are often subjected to stereotypes feel good about themselves and do things such as putting on a suit for the first time. He ends the video on a powerful note, saying that: “The man makes the clothes. The clothes do not make the man. It was never about clothing.”

Black Suffering Goes Unnoticed

While the media is full of content that displays Black boys and men in negative ways, we almost never see when they suffer, especially at the hands of white rage. On December 31st, a Black man by the name of Keith Porter Jr. was murdered by an off-duty ICE agent. Porter was shot outside his home after firing one gunshot into the air, his way of ringing in the New Year. A resident in his apartment complex just so happened to be an ICE agent, and he decided to take matters into his own hands by murdering Porter.

What makes this situation worse is that Porter’s death was not uncovered until days later. Black Lives Matter Los Angeles Chapter reported this information to Instagram on January 2nd, when it should have been reported immediately after it happened. Additionally, Porter’s murder has not received any mainstream media coverage, unlike the murder of  Renée Nicole Good, who was shot by ICE agents in Minneapolis. Porter is human just like Renée Good, but his Blackness creates a discrepancy in how their stories are reported and characterized. 

Porter was a father, son, worker, and beloved community member. However, as a Black man, his suffering went unnoticed until Black Lives Matter Los Angeles brought it to light. We stand with BLM Los Angeles in their demands to “release the name of the agent who murdered Porter,  arrest the agent, cease all character assistantion, and abolish ICE”. Furthermore, we demand accountability and action. We demand that Porter’s story and all those similar all be treated with the same attention and humility as others.

Black men and Black people in general are also underreported in cases where they are missing or in danger. The most recent example that we have seen of this, although new, and old cases are brought to the news every day, is the case of Sam Beal. Beal is 29 years old and a former player for the New York Giants and has been missing for seven months, although his story has only been publicized by major news pages as of January 12, 2026.

If Beal, a Black man in a profession with a lot of publicity, can have his case go unreported on for seven months, imagine how long it takes Black men who aren’t well known publicly to get their stories out and get the resources they need to be safe. For both Beal and every other Black man who is missing, we can only wish and make efforts to ensure that their stories are reported on in a timely manner to maximize the chance of them returning home safely. 

Black Success Goes Unnoticed Too

Black men are not a monolith. We know there are Black boys and men doing great things in the world; we are not just aware or informed. Despite making up small percentages, we know that Black men are doctors, lawyers, and community activists. A Black man was president of the United States. However, these positive figures are overshadowed by society’s perceptions of Black men being only able to reach success as athletes or entertainers, or only being seen as a thug or criminal. 

Mitchell Stevens, a 4th-year UCLA student and member of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Incorporated, Gamma Xi Chapter, gave Nommo his thoughts about Black men’s representation in the media and how Black men’s success is overshadowed by negative perceptions 

“When I think of Black men’s representation in the media, I really just think of Black men being visible. What does it mean to see somebody who looks like you in spaces the world tells us we aren’t meant or fit to be in. Now I believe the problems themselves lie with the narrative written on centuries of perceptions built about our people. We can’t inherently change the structure of stereotypes that group Black Men in what seems like an impenetrable bubble. But we can change the nature of what we continue to do as Black men and more importantly how we show up for each other. 

I think creating spaces, whether that’s in the media, on campus, in the community, where Black men SEE each other is where our power and strength are fostered. With the work of my organization, the Gamma Xi Chapter of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Incorporated, we work to build these spaces that otherwise weren’t there. That’s a part of the entire founding of my fraternity: a space created for and by Black Men. 

To build upon our respective strengths. One of our notable programs, Barbershop Talks, does just that. A ‘Barbershop’ experience is tailored for Black men to come into a space with other Black men, contribute to meaningful dialogue related to our respective experiences and get a free haircut. And that’s only a glimpse honestly. We as Black Men are very powerful and have that much more unforeseen power together. When we see each other, we dismantle every narrative that said we wouldn’t. It’s living proof that the stereotypes never told the full story.”

As a community, we should be amplifying the stories of the groups and organizations that are putting in the hard work to give back and shift the narrative.

Algorithms 

Nommo Newsmagazine created a survey to gauge UCLA students’ and the community’s opinions about how Black boys and men are represented in the media. We then shared this data with Dr. Tanksley, UCLA Education and Information Studies Graduate School Alumna, and a researcher who studies young people’s experiences and perceptions of artificial intelligence and its role in education and the media. Here are her thoughts: 

“These student responses confirm what decades of scholarship in race and media studies have been saying: the media ecosystem is rife with anti-black misandry, not because these depictions of Black men and boys are true, but because the dissemination of these images plays a key role in the maintenance of the violent and inequitable racial status quo.

Importantly, the students’ responses overwhelmingly highlight the personal and individual level harms – that black boys can internalize and ‘buy in’ to these images, which can have a host of socioemotional, psychological and academic effects. 

This, however, is just the beginning of the discussion. It’s important to recognize these micro level aberrations as canaries in the mines – the first warning signs that there is a deeper, more toxic, more far reaching threat lurking just beneath the surface. Images of black boys as unable, unwilling and uninterested in education; as inherently criminal and culturally deviant; and hyper sexual, hyper violent ‘super predators’ – is used to justify their horrific treatment in schools, in employment scenarios, in public spaces, and in society writ large. When we see our Black boys killed in the streets for laughing, playing, dancing, eating snacks, singing, its easier for the public to justify these as heinous and senseless acts of violence because ‘they probably deserved it.’

I also want to note that invisible apparatus that’s behind these images: 

A contract was uncovered that showed the private prisons purchased by a company – Vanguard – required its prisons to maintain a 90% occupancy rate, regardless of what the crime rates were. So even though crime rates in the US have remained stagnant for years, Black people have been continually funneled into prison systems at exponential rates – at one point, the rates of incarceration had quadrupled despite flattened crime rates

How can rampant imprisonment be justified to the public if the public isn’t committing more crimes? Without a believable narrative, people would question these corrupt practices and perhaps even organize against mass incarceration on a national scale. This is where the stereotypes of Black people as aggressive, violent, and inherently criminal come in. 

The same company that owns a majority of US private prisons as well as juvenile detention centers – all of which have an overrepresentation of Black inmates inside – also own the news stations and television channels depicting Black people as violent, aggressive, hostile. So they create and disseminate the narrative of Black aggression and criminality that allows them to corral and cage Black bodies into prisons. 

Keep in mind that the 13th Amendment didn’t completely abolish slavery; it abolished slavery outside of US prisons. This means that Black folks can still be yoked, chained, and brutalized into completing free or low-wage labor for white-owned corporations – just like they were slaves on Antebellum plantations and as sharecroppers during reconstruction – as long as they are placed into US prisons. 

Finally, private prisons are one of the leading sources of profit for the US. It’s where our ‘made in the US’ products are assembled. Because these products are assembled by inmates, they do not have to be paid livable wages. Inmates make a few dollars a day – if they are even paid – and then the companies sell these assembled products at retail price and make millions. 

This is the prison industrial complex at work, and it is made possible – in large part – by stock narratives about Black people in general, and Black boys and men in particular – that society internalizes as fact.

I want to end by saying that, we know that Black youth constantly challenge, critique and struggle against racist depictions of themselves in the media. So it would be incorrect for readers of this article to assume that the reason black boys continue to struggle academically in school, enroll and attend college in lower rates, suffer stifling unemployment rates, are arrested and contacted by law enforcement at disproportionately high rates, etc. is simply because the boys buy into and subsequently embody these problematic tropes. Though tempting to assume, this rationale simply shifts blame away from the systems of white supremacy, patriarchy, capitalism and anti-blackness that creates and sustains this violence, and places it back on Black boys. We need to keep our eye on the true culprit: systemic racism. 

And in order to do so, we must all continue to cultivate our critical media and digital literacies! We also need more positive, nuanced and expansive representations of Black boys/men in media – stories of joy, friendship, love, queerness, perseverance, etc. And even though we are constantly told that ‘there’s no audience for these stories’ or ‘Black boys and men don’t want those stories’ – the data in this study proves that wrong.” 

Conclusion + Writer’s Opinion

The stories of Black people have long been warped by the media, whether it be in history books about the enslavement of Black people, movies and TV perpetuating harmful stereotypes, or news stories reporting inaccurately to promote a narrative. While it is greatly disappointing to see these patterns of misrepresentation still booming in 2026, it is unfortunately not shocking, and many have become desensitized to it. However, it is important that we reverse this desensitization to the best of our abilities, stay emotional, stay passionate, and stay active. Change cannot be made without the presence of passion and the emotion that motivates it. As exhausting as it is, we must remain sensitive to prevent the misrepresentation from being normalized further, and continue working toward efforts to accurately shed light on the stories of Black people.

CONSUMPTION

We curated another list of media outlets that focus on uplifting Black men and the community at large. This list was put together by Nommo Staff and recommendations from our survey. 

Instagram 

  • @blackwealthcrew
  • @becauseofthem 
  • @capitalbnews 
  • @ebonyarchival
  • @sbrnla
  • @blavity
  • @thegrio
  • @wearepushblack
  • @afrotech
  • @goodblacknews
  • @essence
  • @thejaampod

YouTube Channels

  • In Class with Carr
  • NPR Code Switch

Misc

  • Grits & Eggs Podcast
02/12/2026 0 comments
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Black HistoryCommentaryCulturePolitical Education

‘We Gon’ Be A’ight’: Hope and the Fight for What’s Owed

by Mariah Yonique Strawder 01/25/2026
written by Mariah Yonique Strawder

Kendrick Lamar’s “Alright” is the kind of track that hits you in the chest when the world feels heavy. When it dropped in 2015, it became an anthem for protests, for healing, for just making it through the day. And even now, years later, it still speaks to something deep in us. It’s something for Black folks navigating a world that constantly tries to dim our light.

At first listen, “Alright” sounds like a celebration. But when you really sit with the lyrics, you realize it’s not just about feeling good. It’s about surviving pain and still choosing joy. Kendrick talks about police violence, addiction, depression, and the weight of being Black in America. And yet, through all of that, he repeats: “We gon’ be alright.” The song is more than just optimism. It’s resistance.

Hope, in this song, isn’t soft. It’s not about ignoring what’s wrong. It’s about facing it head-on and still believing in something better. That kind of hope is powerful. It’s the kind that kept our ancestors going. It’s the kind that fuels movements. And it’s the kind that reminds us that even when we’re tired, we’re not done.

“Alright” also makes me think about reparations. Not just in the financial sense, but in the emotional and spiritual sense too. What does it mean to be owed something after generations of harm? Kendrick doesn’t say the word “reparations,” but the theme remains present. He’s talking about what’s been taken, our peace, our safety, our lives, and what it would mean to get some of that back. Not just through checks, but through healing, through justice, through being able to live without fear.

The road to that kind of future isn’t smooth. There are setbacks. Kendrick talks about feeling weak, about wanting to give up. And that’s real. We all have those moments. But what makes “Alright” so powerful is that it doesn’t end there. It reminds us that even when we fall, we rise. That our stories keep going despite the struggle.

So what does the future look like? If we really believe we’ll be alright, then it looks like more than just surviving. It looks like communities that are safe, schools that are funded, neighborhoods that aren’t being pushed out by gentrification. It looks like joy, like art, like Black kids growing up knowing they’re loved and protected.

01/25/2026 0 comments
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Black HistoryPoetry

The Creator

by Bahji Steele 12/06/2025
written by Bahji Steele

I never wanted to be an envious person
I never wanted to think I wasn’t content
But I find myself being very critical 
Because that is all I am, a critic
A critic and a consumer

Most of us are not encouraged to create
We are only allowed to consume
And the few of us who do create 
I am told that it only matters if
It’s widely absorbed
can be sold
can trend

Yet in my culture, we are special 
My culture is an export
My culture is commodified  

The most  absorbed music in the world is ours
Our sound is learned and regurgitated back to us and called “pop
Our jokes, our slang learned and traded and abused
Our dances learned 
and relearned 
and taught 
and retaught
Until everyone can move and sound like us 
Even if they don’t know us

Our bodies are glorified for our athleticism
We are a spectacle
Costumed and competing for top spot
Fetishized on courts and stage

We entertain the world
We make the world move, and somehow we can’t afford to dance

Where is the spirit of my ancestors
Who could turn hunger into harmony?
Why haven’t I “broken through”
Why can’t I be an entertainer

Can I create freely as one
But I don’t create to feed the machine
Expression is not my currency 
The richest creators are the most consumed
I create just like I breathe

But the air is dense, and I have asthma 
Where do I find time to create when I can’t access nature
Where do I find space in my soul when it’s aware of its own suppression
Where do I find peace in my mind when I am focused on survival
How do I create with a heavy soul

12/06/2025 0 comments
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