All these limited ways that we define identity are what’s causing us so many problems. When we stop having a “white” everybody can have a cultural identity and heritage. Then we can have some real conversations. Until we do it is always going to be: white is the norm and everything else is abnormal.

Black presence means that we don’t have to ask permission to be visible. It also means that we see each other. Like when you see another black person and you nod your head or say something. It’s recognition. It’s how we say, “I see you. You’re present. You’re here. We’re not alone.”

I think about the black presence here in San Francisco and it can’t be all numbers. It has to be qualitative, not quantitative. It has to be about how black people are represented, understood and respected by each other and by those outside of black spaces and black community. There needs to be more black spaces. How do we create those? How do we find each other? How do we say, “What’s up?” when we don’t even see each other sometimes.

It’s been interesting seeing how much the city has changed. It’s become more and more gentrified. But not even gentrified— segregated. I think people don’t know each other anymore. When I was growing up I knew my neighbors. I don’t think people know who their neighbors are.

We have to remember that there is a history of intergroup organizing that’s always existed among different communities. Where there’s been tension, there’s also been a lot of unity and working together. San Francisco has really produced some of the most radical changes that we’ve seen in our society in modern times. How many firsts has San Francisco accomplished in terms of political mobilization or organizing? So I think this city still remains a place where we can produce radical change. The question is: will we do it bringing everyone along for the ride or will we displace so many people that it will no longer be that place of radical transformation but a new place of neoliberal bullshit?”

Dr. Andrew Jolivette
Chair of American Indian Studies, SF State

If I were the Mayor of San Francisco, I would charge tech companies and corporations to build community places where kids can come and be exposed to art. I love Loco Bloco, because Loco Bloco is a good organization that is focused on kids from the Mission to Bayview-Hunters Point. A lot of the organizations I’ve worked with don’t even reach those neighborhoods. Those kids need it, too. That’s not how it should be.

Lots of people always say they want to have a community center but they don’t really know what a community is. In my Matoto community everybody knows me. I know everybody from the oldest to the youngest. I know each family and everybody’s name. We always greet each other and visit each other. You come to my house. I go to your house. We’re good friends who help and support each other. You see everybody every day. We don’t need to set up meetings because everyone talks to each other all the time. You see people from your community everywhere. That’s what we call community back home. You have to be a part of a community.

I am an artists and a drummer. An artist is a messenger, someone with positive ideas and solutions who can inspire people in the community. Djembe Bara is the original name of the drum I play. Djembe means “together,” and Bara means, “circle.” The two together, what do you call that? Unity.

With my art, I bring people together and when they see me on the stage it inspires. I build the community. Here in the US you live with people of so many different ethnicities, each celebrating their own culture. Artists are the ambassadors of these cultures. As a Guinean artist, I am an ambassador of African culture. I want to see all the Africans come together. And I’m not just talking about the black people. We really need to get together, even if you’re not black. 

Bongo Sidibe
Vocalist and Percussionist
Originally from Conakry Guinea

African Americans have always been fighting for something in San Francisco. There was a student-led strike at San Francisco State University (SF State) [in 1968]. Black Students and a coalition of other student groups led the strike to expose the racism found on campus and demanded increased student of color representation.

[The Black Student Union, Third World Liberation Front, select staff and faculty, and members from the larger Bay Area community, organized and lead a series of actions against systematic discrimination. The five-month even was the longest campus strike in US history.]

This laid the groundwork that led to the establishment of the College of Ethnic Studies at SF State. They began raising awareness around the issue of Ethnic Studies because they wanted to learn about themselves. The strike was

multicultural. Everybody got in it. Whites, Asian, Native American, and Latino people all got in it.

We needed those folks. There have always been people whose interests were in the right place. There were even white people in the founding days of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP). So, do we need each other? Yes, we need each other because as soon as they finish with one group they get on to the next group, and the fight is the same. None of us need to do the fight alone. We lead the fight and then others join later.

I represent being a part of the solution and working towards improving the quality of life for all people, but particularly improving the quality of life for African Americans in San Francisco. To those who still live here: We need to love our Creator, and then we need to love our neighbors as we love ourselves. That’s hard to do because you have to separate your neighbor’s behavior from the person. And in order to love somebody else you have to love yourself, so we have to constantly look in the mirror. What am I doing and what can I do to make our city better?

Carol Tatum
Community Leader and Activist

Although they talk about the diversity of San Francisco and it being a progressive place, it’s hard for black children. You either send your kids off to school somewhere else or you have them stick it out to try and fit the mold of being a smart black kid in San Francisco where they’re either going to make it or break it. Figuring out where my kids should go to school was probably the most difficult thing I had to do and I’m not sure I made all the right choices, but I did my best.

My siblings and I were the first black children to integrate into a public school in our San Francisco neighborhood. We weren’t bused in. My parents were fortunate enough to buy a house in that neighborhood and it was long after Brown v. Board of Education that this particular school decided to bring black students in. We faced hell, being the only black children in that school.

Two years later, they started to bus in kids from Bayview-Hunters Point. I went through a real transformation during my time there. I had to find a way to feel okay about myself being so different and also find a way to help others feel okay about me. My siblings and I don’t talk that much about how we suffered as individuals, but I know I suffered. I didn’t even have my first black teacher until sixth grade but when I did I wanted to follow her all over the world.

My daughter now has three children with her husband and is living in San Francisco. They have two boys and a daughter, and she’s constantly at that school trying to figure out what needs to happen in regards to her kids, these teachers, and the on-going racial issues. I said, “I told you. If you’re going to have children, you need to be ready.” You have to know what schools they’re going to go to. You need to prepare for that because it’s going to be one of the most difficult challenges in your life. I don’t think she listened, but I’m helping her out as best I can.

Black children need to be grounded in their own culture. They will be stronger if they’re really grounded in who they are as African people. Make sure they know they wear a crown, the responsibility that comes with wearing it, and that they should not allow anyone to take away that crown or the light they carry within them. Lastly tell them that they must honor who they are and persevere.

Francine Shakir
Founder and Executive Director of the Ascend Institute for Educational Change
Culture and Arts Director of the Richard Oakes Multicultural Center, SF State

Time never looks back. Time goes forward. So to see how we got here today, you have to look back. They tell us, “You have no past. You have no accomplishments. You didn’t contribute.” Our history is faded but it is still here.

Someone once told me that the beauty of a tree is what you see and the strength of that tree is what you don’t see. Every place in America where there are black people, are untold stories of how we have made a difference. It is not just history it’s our story. We came here at the beginning. We’re part of all of this and we will continue to be a part of all of this. Our places are solid.

I remember while working at the shipyard, to keep people removed from the process of leadership they’d hoard the knowledge. When I started, I would hear the old guys, the old black men in particular, talk about how their white counterparts would hold the blueprints to the ships. They would tell the black people, “Go get this. Go get that.” And while we were gone, they’d look at the blueprints. It was as if they had all of this knowledge, but really, all they had were blueprints. It takes me back to brother James Brown, “I don’t need nobody to give me nothing. Open up the door. I’ll get it myself.”

I think the lack of communication is one of the things that has held us back. The words we say echo. When I worked at the San Francisco shipyard as a young man, the old guys used to always say to me, “Young man, just keep getting up in the morning and you’ll be amazed at how far you can go. Keep pushing, keep struggling, and don’t let anybody tell you that you can’t, when you can. You have the self-confidence to go forward.” I’ll never forget that.

We’re all here as a result of them old folks and they’re here as a result of the old folks that came before them. It’s amazing when you think of life’s process. My dad and mom created me. My grandfather and grandmother on my dad’s side created him. You start going back and back and the connection and the stories are just really amazing. All of the folks in this struggle of life, who brought us to where we are now—those unnamed people—thinking of them is what moves and shakes me.

Gregory Harden
Musician, Youth Worker, Audiopharmacy Producer & Seventh Native American Generation

I didn’t even think about race when I was younger. There were black, brown, Asian and then like one white person in our school. It wasn’t until like high school when I noticed segregation. A lot of the separation was grouping based on cliques and popularity but it does often fall back to what you look like and what is relatable to you.

I don’t keep count, but I definitely have black friends. I have friends of Chinese descent, Japanese descent, Salvadorian, and Irish. I don’t pick my friends based off race. Do you pick friends off race? I think racist people do that. I base the relationship on how we communicate and how we hang out. If you’re a black person who mostly hangs out with black people because there’s a huge African American community where you live, where you work, and where you hang out then of course that’s what happens. That’s different. That’s how it was for a lot of people.

I think that the higher educated you get the more you realize people that don’t look like you aren’t as scary and not everybody that looks like you wants to relate to you. You might have to branch out and get out of your comfort zone. Our city has been changing. San Francisco, as we know it, is becoming less and less diverse. There are more black people outside of San Francisco than in the heart of the 7x7 San Francisco city where there’s not many at all. I definitely see a lot of Asians and I still see a lot of Latinos in their same neighborhoods, but the black community is definitely lacking in the city. A lot of the people I grew up around are not here.

Isiah Ball
Standup Comedian and Writer

We have left no legacy behind in the Fillmore. I’m telling you that in 10 to 15 years the only way you’re going to know that this part of San Francisco used to be black is by looking at the bricks, or by the tour guides on buses that tell you, “This used to be the great jazz district.” But this area was the Chitlin’ Circuit. When black people in the United States decided to settle in California, they either came to Los Angeles or to San Francisco’s Fillmore district...and I mean everybody. We were thriving and now we’re not even on the map anymore. What’s left for us here? Look at the state of Fillmore now. We lost it all, and it’s happening everywhere. It always happens in the same format. The first projects in the United States of America were in Atlanta called Bowen Homes. When they closed it down, they told the people, “We’re going to rebuild this really nice place. It’s going to be brand new and you can come back.” But by the time they rebuilt it, they also pulled out the red tape. And people couldn’t afford to move back. This dispersed us even more. Now we are so scattered and have had to assimilate so much that we are just everywhere. Not that that is all bad. We do need to assimilate some, but it’s cost us.

Now, I’m talking about economics. More of us need to become entrepreneurs and build businesses to establish a legacy where you don’t have to depend on somebody else to give you a job. We’re just giving our money to anybody and it’s hard to grow like that when we live in a capitalist society. Whether you like it or not, you need to have money and you need it in order to participate. We need to start investing in ourselves. We’re going to always create music. We’re going to always start the hottest trends. We have that part down. And now, it’s the time to start setting up structures and setting up businesses.

We must plan to leave something behind for the kids that are coming up and make sure they learn about themselves. As a parent, you have to make a black child feel good about being a black child because so much of the world is telling them that they’re nothing and that there’s not much of a future for them. You can’t expect school to fill the voids.

If you look at the news, it’s always negative and this is how the world looks at us. Even if you start picking out black role models, you’ll notice that a lot of them are entertainers. So we make sure our kids are playing some kind of sport because we think that as a black man you got to be an entertainer to make big money. That is not true. Stop pushing them into football. If they’re good, they’re good, but they can also start a business. Yes, we’re always going to entertain. It’s in our blood, but dig deeper for the next generation. I would like to see us change focus. Tell the youth to go create something. No, creating something is not easy. Either way you’re going to struggle so you might as well struggle for four or five years building something that will be yours. You can start with something simple, like teaching kids how to use a camera. That’s what I do. The San Francisco Black Film Festival is the thing that keeps me going. We really need it badly. People need to see these stories, these positive roles that we do play as opposed to the stereotypical negative Hollywood versions. To most of the nation, even to the world, San Francisco still means something. The Black Film Festival allows the world to see us in a different light than what’s normally portrayed.

Kali O’ Ray
Executive Director of the San Francisco Black Film Festival

Beatniks, hippies, the Summer of Love—all kinds of culture, all kinds of drugs, all kinds of sex, all kinds of love—we saw all kinds of stuff. It was a very formidable time in the history of San Francisco and in our culture because it was also the Civil Rights era. So in addition to having all the hippies and the Bohemians, we also had the Black Panthers and the Black Arts Movement. In such a very revolutionary period, everybody was vying for freedom and their place and space in society and culture.

I’ve traveled to a lot of places around the world and I can still say that San Francisco is my home. It’s because of the diversity and the culture that’s present. It’s a place where people can be heard and things happen differently, even though we do have our own set of politics as well.

Folks here are being pushed out of the city due to increases in the costs of living. I’m not sure that we’re doing everything we can to mitigate that outmigration. It is especially apparent within the African American community.

The African American community has made great contributions to San Francisco, however we are constantly reminded that it is not ours. For whatever reason, there’s no sense of permanency here. We constantly have to figure out how to navigate through society. Externally and internally, we have had to assimilate and integrate through various forms

and communities. It’s quite a skill knowing how to straddle these fences just to navigate. The best of us know how to do it really well. It’s more of a safety and survival mechanism. These are the skills and traits I try to pass on to my children and to the young people we serve in order to better navigate our city.

Having grown up in the Haight-Ashbury and now living in the Bayview, I was blessed with having a plethora of friends, experiences and flavors in my community. It helped me learn to navigate through diverse environments and I’m grateful for that. That’s the way the world should be because we’re not meant to live alone. We need to look to one another for support and resources. We must continue to support, nurture and educate one another.

Liz Jackson-Simpson
Executive Director of the Success Center San Francisco

America is known as the big melting pot and San Francisco is like a smaller version of America. I learned about the melting pot in my schooling in France, but when I arrived here I felt like it was not true. When I got here I thought, “Whoa, it’s stratification.” There were just different segments of people: black, white, Asian, and everybody seemed to be separated by race.

When I first arrived in San Francisco they asked me to fill out this form and it asked me, “What is your race?” I didn’t know what to put on the paper because I had never been asked that in my life. There were all these different characters to choose, and I thought

to myself, “Which one am I going to pick?” because I’m mixed. I turned around feeling embarrassed and a little stupid because I had to ask the flight attendant. “Excuse me, what should I put here?” She responded, “Of course, black.” “Oh,” I said. “All right.” I thought, “Maybe she didn’t understand my English.” So I ask the lady next to me. “Can I ask you a question? My mom is white and my dad is black so what do I put?” She looked at me and said, “Of course you put black.”

I called my parents and told them I had arrived in the United States and explained what had happened. My dad said “Well it is you in America. Don’t worry.” My mom said, “Did you tell them I’m white?” I said, “They told me to put black so I put black. That’s it.” They already categorized me. I was forced to choose. That was my first experience coming here. It seemed like even my name was less important than my race. I had already been categorized to fit within this system of race. With time I began realizing that there’s social discrimination in this country.

I’ve been to many countries. In my travels, I have learned about so many different systems in the world like democracy, capitalism, communism, anarchism, and so on. But in a village, I really believe in the fundamental value that exists... to love one another and share with one another. It’s an extension of your family.

Marco Senghor
Ownder of Bissap Baobab

We need to create a better environment and give kids stronger chances to be awesome in life. We want them to be good people, succeed in society and have the opportunities to do well and not struggle in the ways that we have struggled.

Right now, one of the big trends in the city is everyone acting independent of one another. People use to be more interdependent, where you knew you could depend on your neighbor if you needed. Another huge thing is police violence against people. Police shootings are a huge thing nationwide. In our community here in the Bayview, there’s a large part of activism centered around respecting people’s civil rights and just not shooting or killing people. It sounds very simple but it’s a more systemic situation.

A huge piece of what I teach my daughter is about differences and knowing that you’re blessed even if you don’t live in a multi-million dollar house. You’re blessed to be here. You’re blessed to be able to have food to eat and a roof over your head. Another part is self-love, which doesn’t mean dislike of others. I love everyone, including myself and I want my daughter to love everyone, including herself. If you don’t love you, you can’t love anyone else in a real, genuine way. My daughter and I talk about things like homelessness, because those are very real things that she comes in contact with every day. I don’t ever want her to ignore these societal issues no matter what her position in life becomes.

Maya Rogers
Community Advocate and Social Worker

It’s important to understand where you live. There is indigenous culture from where you are. If you live in San Francisco, learn about the Ohlone people. They are the true natives of this land. Learn about their traditions and their culture. Learn about what this used to look like before it became covered with concrete. Think about that when you’re walking down the concrete street. This used to be a rich marshland, a bird paradise where millions of birds used to flock. San Francisco has a lot of history. We have rich histories. If we look at the indigenous communities that lived here and still live here, we could learn some of the ways in which they maintained their survival for hundreds of years.

Don’t let them tell you that humans and the earth are separate. We’re all connected to the stars. Even scientists are telling us that we come from stardust. The earth was made from stardust. We’re a reflection of what’s happening celestially in the universe. In Native American culture I was taught that a meteor landed between two mountains. In that meteor was our DNA in the form of a spider, and the spider came and wove everything that we see in her web. That’s what it is. We are all connected. That’s the truth. Go out with your friends, stand on the hill and move around, and you’ll see the stars shift. I’ve done it with youth. Whatever we do in the world is reflected in the heavens. So what we do and say right now has power. We are the power.
I feel really blessed to be born into this legacy of black brilliance that across the board is one of the most appreciated in the arts, whether it comes down to visual arts, with Michel Basquiat, or music, with soul, funk, blues, reggae and hip-hop. Those are black arts. That’s black brilliance and black love being perpetuated into the universe. Those art forms are going to be listened to 36,000 years from now. That makes us immortal. So we are immortal through our art, our love, and through our conversations.

Ras K’Dee
Musician, Youth Worker, Audiopharmacy Producer & Seventh Native American Generation

I identify as being mixed or black. I have a lot of Welsh in my family and I feel very connected to Wales and their history and stories. I also have this huge connection to Africa, but Africa’s a big continent. with many countries and many languages. Being from Egypt, is very different than being from Nigeria or South Africa. One of my favorite words that I wish we still used is “Afro-American.” It feels more authentic because points to the flavor, history and more ancient connections. It’s the seasoning of who I am.

To me “Black” is about what you look like and has a lot more to do with how other people treat you, whereas “African American” is safer for other people to say. I don’t usually use the word African American for myself.
“Black” is more comfortable to me. But the phrase “the black experience” drives me crazy... the idea that there’s one black experience. There is no one black experience. Most people define it as something they saw on TV but when I’m talking about being black, I’m talking about my experience, which is why sometimes I’m not black. Sometimes I’m in a place and I really genuinely feel mixed. Other times I’m in a room and I’m black." n

Rhiannon Evans MacFayden
Curator and Project-Based Artist

I always knew that drawing was going to be my road to self-discovery and self- understanding. Drawing ancestors and creating all these entities has me working on a deeper level. It comes so natural to me. It’s like having a conversation with myself. I think that’s why art is so healing.

I think art can definitely heal community. When I was younger, seeing art that was a reflection of me made me feel good. I wanted to do that too. I want to create a story that can create a brighter reality that’s not oppressive; that’s against oppression. When I see art in communities that you can tell is removed from the community, you can tell its soul is lost. It’s not healing. I call it art gentrification and that’s creating something that just doesn’t fit or help the community. Instead, it perpetuates whatever issue was already there.

We look around for reflections of ourselves. But if we don’t find it and we don’t see it, we need to look for it within ourselves. Where else better to start than with our ancestry? Your parents are included in that. They’re the two that created you.

It’s important to reach back and learn about yourself. I believe in things getting passed down to us ancestrally, through our DNA and memory. I believe our stories are passed down through our actions. The things we go through are always intertwined and related to our ancestry. Sometimes we don’t know why but we end up doing things that reflect the generational trauma and behaviors that comes up for healing. Sometimes we have to relive that story to work that out within ourselves.

I do have a story to tell. My story is part of a whole story that includes an endless amount of people. Thank you for allowing me to share my story, helping me realize that my story matters, and allowing others to share theirs. It’s warming anytime you’re invited somewhere... to be included and know someone else is interested in your voice and your presence. I ask that everyone look at their own story. Explore where you come from, where you are at, where you are going, and maybe where you need to be. Whatever you do comes from the soil to which your feet are planted and comes through the soles of your feet. How we walk is how we give reverence to our story. So, where do you want to go — spiritually, physically, emotionally, and mentally? We can go there.

Sydney “Sage” Cain
Graphite Visual Artist and Muralist

“Art brings so much to the community. San Francisco with no art would be like a place with no heart. Dance is important for me. It keeps me alive. It makes me strong as a black person, because it’s not easy to be a black person in this world. So dance for me is everything. I dance with my ancestors. They’re with me through everything in my life.

It’s because of our ancestors that we are here. We always have to remember who we are, where we came from, and why we have so much. Black people we are brothers and sisters. Your ancestors are my ancestors. Although I’m from Brazil and you’re from the United States, Haiti, or Cuba, we still feel and experience the same thing that our ancestors experienced. The racism still happens. I want to see us come together and support each other.

I’m a little sad about “community” in the United States. I don’t think it exists. I’ve lived in the same place for 13 years, and I don’t even know my neighbor. That is not a community. We need to recreate our community here. I have to create my own community. That is what I do inside my dance classes. Cultural arts are important because it brings people together and helps people understand one another.

In my classes we come together to dance, travel and help each other. But I really want to see us even more together. We are too separate. I want to see more black people happier and smiling. We need that here.
I don’t think another color could be so strong. It is a strong force. It is beauty. It is art. The color black absorbs a lot of energy. We as black people absorb a lot of energy. We absorb good energy. I am a black person, dancer and a fighter. Being black is everything to me. We are our hearts."

Tania Santiago
Afro-Brazilian Dance Teacher, Choreographer and Massage Therapist
Originally from Salvador, Bahia, Brazil

I had a conversation with someone about the gentrification that’s taking place in San Francisco. They talked about gentrification being a good thing if it’s development is controlled and spearheaded by the community instead of when it’s used to displace a majority of the people. I thought that was an interesting point and it made me think about it. It seems cyclical though.

In the past we’ve had the same situation. A lot of white people were living in the suburbs while the blacks were living in the city. And now the whites are moving back to the city and the blacks are moving back to the suburbs. I wouldn’t be surprised if later in the future the reverse interchanges again, where the whites are moving back to the suburbs and the blacks are moving back to the city.

Virginia Jourdan
Artist and Painter, Member of the 3.9 Art Collective

Everybody wants to give and everyone wants to belong. We just have to teach it.

Traditionally, the teacher was the role model, the person who was looked up to. They were often the most respected and educated person in the neighborhood. If you needed some help with a paper you’d say, “Let’s go to Mrs. Jones because Mrs. Jones knows how to do this.”

But we don’t have the teachers living in the community as we once did. Urban renewal wiped out our beloved community. We had it, but we lost it. Everybody needs a home. Many of our young professionals move out because they can’t afford to live in San Francisco. They spend hours driving in and out the city every day from places like Antioch, Pittsburg, Pinole and Hercules

Our students have experiences that students on the other side of town don’t have... they just see it on TV. They think it’s not real, but it is. When you have a whole cluster of sixth graders, many of which have social needs and academic needs, what do you do? Teachers in our communities are more then just principals, teachers, and afterschool supervisors. This is what we do:

We help students and their parents access all the services they need. We make sure the kids get scholarships. We take the kids on college tours. If someone gets sick, we make sure they get the medical care they need. If someone is shot, we go to the funeral and support the family of the child who gets buried. Sometimes our kids make mistakes and get arrested. So we go to the Youth Guidance Center. Our day is not 8 to 3. Our day is pretty much 24/7. We help students accomplish whatever they need to get done so they can become productive citizens.

Our goal is simple: it’s to make education the number one priority in our community. Every school should be a great school. Why is that? We’re teaching future leaders. Who’s going to take care of us? We got to think about that. Who’s going to run the country? Who’s going to run this city? When I get sick I want a great doctor not a good doctor. So we need to make sure that every school has the resources they need. A school can’t have all brand new teachers. It needs to have some experienced teachers too.

Virginia Marshall
Vice President of the San Francisco Alliance of Black Education