From Our Board

At the height of the pandemic, there was still no vaccine. Across America, people took to the streets to protest the brutal murders of black people by police and white nationalists. “No Justice! No Peace!”, “Say their names!”, “This is what democracy looks like!” My son, Wayne, joined me as we hit the streets in solidarity. Masked and determined, the marches were invigorating, and the marchers were a cross-section of society. Without hesitation, I accepted Tanya Taylor’s invitation to join her for the first protest march in El Segundo, CA. the others that followed, and ultimately, the Black in Mayberry movement was born.

Black people in America have stories to tell. Stories of subtle, sometimes overt, racist microaggressions we seldom articulate. Nevertheless, the scar of insult has been struck. It is increasingly clear that black folks must tell our stories challenging the illusion that we live in a post-racial America. Far from it. What better and more natural way for the stories to be told than through the arts – visual and performing? It stimulates heart-to-heart dialogue, the only way actual change occurs. Sharing is healing. That is the mission of Black in Mayberry, and I am privileged to be a part of carrying it out.