WFAE Equalibrium (The Power of Black Storytelling) #LiveEventVideography

Good evening.

Good evening.

Thank you all for joining us tonight. This event, we're glad to have you out for our first event at the WFAE Center for Civic and Community Engagement. We recently moved into this building. Thank you. So tonight we're happy to welcome you to our event on the power of Black storytelling. You know, we— this event is part of our Equilibrium Live series, where we look at ongoing issues of race and equity in the Charlotte region. But it's really important to us, as we report and talk about the difficult moments, is to take time to celebrate the joy and resiliency in communities of color. So that's part of this initiative. And I'm happy to thank our sponsors, Novant Health.

Thank you.

for making this possible, as well as our sponsor Wells Fargo. And I want to thank, especially thank our panelists for joining us tonight for this event. Thank you all for coming here and being a part of talking about Black storytelling and sharing your knowledge and expertise with our greater community. We will be taping this, so, and streaming this, so, you know, make sure you share it with your friends. I want to thank Dante Miller, Our event producer, please stand. And Chris Jones, our host. And I want to thank all of you for being part of this event, so let's give you all a round of applause. And as I like to say at WFAE, teamwork makes the dream work. So there are many of us who are involved in putting these events together, and if you can all just lift your hand if you worked on this event. and let the people see the amazing team of people that we work with. Thank you all very much. And with no further delay, I'd like to welcome Dr. Jerome Williams to the stage for some remarks.

Thank you so much. What a crowd this evening.

What a crowd.

So my name is Dr. Jerome Williams Jr. I lead our consumer engagement activity for Novant Health. And I am not only honored to be here this evening, but extremely proud to sponsor the Equilibrium Live Series. It's an important series of conversations across our community that really should involve all communities, corporate America, public and private sector. So thank you so much for creating this series. Storytelling is a powerful tradition that regardless of culture, religion, socioeconomic status, or belief system, has touched us all. In fact, storytelling is how humans learn to process information. As children, long before we can read or write, our parents or elders read it to us to share their own stories. People are hardwired for storytelling. Great stories stick with us. We play them in our heads over and over and over again. Some stay with us forever, and it's how we share our values with others. All the world's religions deliver their message through stories. The Bible is just one example. We learn and grow by sharing experiences through stories. I'll also add, great leaders are great storytellers. Think about it. Would you rather listen to me present a 1-hour PowerPoint presentation, which I do all day long, or would you rather listen to a story?

I would rather listen to a story than listen to my—

listen to me present a PowerPoint presentation all day long. Stories can take many forms, and tonight we'll have the opportunity to hear from poets, musicians, and documentarians. As you listen this evening, I encourage you to think of your own life and stories and the impact you have on others. Once again, I'm proud to sponsor this series and grateful to be here tonight.

Thank you.

Thank you, Dr. Williams and Novant. We appreciate your sponsorship, as well as keeping my premiums low. I appreciate that as well. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I'm Chris Jones, a weekend host here at WFAE. I'm honored to be your host this evening on the last day of Black History Month, a night where we will come and we'll learn together, we'll celebrate together, and indeed we'll honor Black history together. This evening, you all have been invited to join us as we discuss the importance of storytelling within the Black community as part of our Equilibrium Live series. The first one— I'm sorry, the first in-person live event that we're having here in our new Civic Engagement Center, and the first Equilibrium Live series that we're having in person. The first one we had, it was during COVID and— We were all on little screens and everything like that, so it is a beautiful thing to see everyone sitting in these seats and the beautiful smiles on your faces. We are joined by a documentarian, a griot, spoken word artists, musicians, and all who will share their craft and explain to us how they use their art and work to inform, connect, and uplift their community. Tonight we're joined by Frederick Murphy, He's an award-winning documentary filmmaker. Hannah Hassan, an award-winning master storyteller and spoken word artist and poet as well. Sean Watson, he goes by Swats. He's the music vice president and performing music artist of Game Breaks Music with musical partner Omega Sparks, who will DJ this evening. Cheryl Sparkle Mosley, She's a local storyteller, motivational speaker, and teaching artist. And we have 3 drummers from Drums for Life. That's Kojo Bey and his 2 sons, Nal and Raj Bey, all of which will help us journey through history, style, and the future of Black storytelling. So, Frederick, if you want to join me up here.

Yeah.

Frederick, we wanna kinda frame everything for this evening and put things in perspective. So one of the quotes that we dug out actually comes from Black nationalist Marcus Garvey. Marcus said, a people without knowledge of their past history, origin, and culture is like a tree without roots. So Frederick, you traveled the country collecting Black history and documenting Black stories. Why is storytelling so important to Black culture, and can you talk about the different forms of storytelling that have historically been used and passed down in the Black community?

Yeah, definitely. Can you all hear me good?

Good, thanks.

Thanks for having me, and thanks for the question. You know, that answer is very varied because of the various different places that I have traveled to. The reason in which storytelling is very important is because it serves as a primary resource, especially for the African American people, African descended, indigenous descended communities. I put up 5 historical markers back in my hometown of Clarksville, Tennessee, and when we put up these markers everyone wants, you know, the primary resources. You gotta have primary resources. But for us, we have to start with the oral history that's been passed down in the communities from generation upon generation.

Why?

Because our history and our documented lives looks completely different than other people's documented history looks. For instance, I just left UNC Chapel Hill because I'm working on a project on iron furnaces throughout the South, and we're focusing on the enslaved individuals Who worked at— oh, sorry, who were enslaved at these iron furnaces. Now when we think of the institution of slavery, how many of us think about iron furnaces?

Not many.

Not many, right? We think cotton, rice, indigo, etc., etc. But iron furnaces was a huge moneymaker.

Why?

Because they're the ones who create— the furnaces birthed the iron. Bullets for the War of 1812 and prior to, as well as the Civil War. So iron furnaces were very important. So in my local community back home, instead of the tobacco plantations and the cotton— because cotton was mostly in western Tennessee— we knew our folks to be mostly enslaved at these iron furnaces, right? So my point with that piece is, if that wasn't cascaded and passed down to us, as it relates to research, when putting up historical markers, when passing down these stories for people to be able to trace their ancestors, you wouldn't have a clue on where to start. You may start at— try to start at a cotton plantation, and that has absolutely nothing to do with where your ancestors were at that point in time, right? And not only that, but the story of free people in free communities of color, and a lot of people don't recognize that these were different communities throughout the South. A lot of people think that everybody that was of African descent or indigenous descent or Afro-indigenous descent was enslaved, when the fact of the matter is there were multiple communities of free people of color who created a sustainable way of living throughout the South. And not only that, but when we talk about cities like Boston, when various different acts had in this country, you had white enslavers who were coming throughout the South, coming from the South up to Boston, Massachusetts, and throughout Massachusetts, and literally picking up people off the streets who were born free. This is why storytelling is so important, because of the simple fact— yeah, that is very different. That's real different. Because of the simple fact that Everybody has a story of origin, and ours doesn't start with the institution of slavery, but being born here, and with the majority of our ancestors being born here, that we can relate back to, or who we can identify back to, you know, sometimes, unfortunately, that's where it does have to start. So, to your question, as it relates to why it's important, is because it's a jumpstart for an individual to be able to laminate their personal identity. Why does my nose look like that? Why do I like working in— working, using my hands, right? Why do I like music so much? Why did I take up this trade? Why did I take up that trade? Well, most of that is identified if you're able to do the research, and if you ask the right questions throughout your family lineage, you'll get the why. But of course, it has to start with those storytellers that were in the family, whether it's your great-grandmother, Great-great-grandmother, great-aunts, great-uncles, pastors in the communities, the mailman in the community. In the community I grew up with, everybody told stories, right? And so it has to start from somewhere for us to start mapping what our life is like and what it has been throughout the generations of our ancestors.

So when we talk about mapping that out, that's kind of your work as a documentarian, right? You're mapping out that work. And earlier you mentioned that's different. Being a Black storyteller and a Black documentarian is very different than other histories that are recorded or well recorded in many different ways, and what you rely on and how that's different. Could you tell us, how did you get into being a documentarian? Where did the passion for that spark from for you? With you?

Yeah. So, for me, I've just— you know how you'll be in the kitchen or what have you with the older folks and, you know, they're saying stuff, but they tell you to leave, right? So, I would never really leave. And, I come from a real big family. My grandmother had 14 siblings. And 9 of them are still alive, right? And so they're all in their 80s, and one's in their 90s. And they were sharecroppers in Tennessee. But I was always kind of hanging around the corner, because I knew there were some dark sides in our family. My grandmother's brother was hanged in 1964. And that wasn't revealed to the younger folks until we were in our 20s. And so, while I'm always listening to the— was listening to the things as a kid of what was going on, when I got older, and where I was able to do my own research, I was able to delve a little bit deeper, and I would understand why this person wasn't talking with that person, and why this and that, and a lot of it was based on the hanging of their brother. So, to fast forward, because I was raised by all of these elders in my community, And I even was blessed to be around my great-great-grandmother, who's on my shirt right here, Pereira Talley Low, and her family was out of Warren County, North Carolina. I made it a point to make other people feel as if their existence mattered. How many times have, you know, you've had a rough day, or you've had these milestones, you've had all these different lived experiences in life, But because we're older now, right, and we don't get a blue ribbon for participating in field day, we don't get a pat on the back when we do this or when we do that, we just get scrutinized most of the times when we're adults because what, we're supposed to know better, right, if anything messes up. I said, man, I would really love to get in front of people and just listen to their stories and validate them, validate their lived experiences. At the time when I started doing these projects, I was the director of counseling at Johnson C. Smith University, fresh from Atlanta, Georgia, and I hit a stint of burnout really, really bad. I was the only therapist on the campus for about 2 years, and that almost killed me, y'all. It really did. And so I started practicing what I was preaching and utilized collecting oral history as self-care for myself. It really balanced things out. So I was blessed to merge what I've learned from a licensed clinical mental health standpoint onto— into collecting oral histories. And from that point, the original project that I did was an oral history project interviewing individuals with specified experiences during Jim Crow. So I took off to Mississippi, Alabama, Tennessee, Virginia, South Carolina, here locally in North Carolina, and Kentucky, just sitting down with individuals who survived Jim Crow. And a lot of people have to recognize Jim Crow, if you came out of Jim Crow, you were a survivor, okay? It's not just an era, it's something that you had to survive on a daily basis. You had to survive that time period. And so from there, I've been blessed to be able to—

Thank you.

be a part of about 12 productions, and still going on right now.

Yeah.

Congratulations on that work.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Telling stories and proving that our existence matters, that's absolutely incredible and important. And 1964 was not too long ago, ladies and gentlemen. So, as you mentioned collecting oral history, Fred, we're about to turn the night over to a fantastic storyteller. So much of the work that you do relies on the oral tradition, which is a specific type of storytelling, as you just mentioned. Why is this particular form of storytelling so important to the Black community?

Yeah, and again, you know, to piggyback real quick, you asked me the different types. I didn't even get there. Food, dance, traditional storytelling, arts, crafts, our hands, right? There's so many different elements to what storytelling looks like. It's sitting in the back of the— sitting in the back of the church, playing with your friend while Granny's up in the front. And she's able to turn around and just stop and look. Straight up, like, these— this is storytelling, right? The reason why this is so important is because we all have a collective memory in some way, shape, or form. There's a lot of interconnectedness that a lot of us don't bring to our conscious, Whether it's due to us intentionally suppressing that, not wanting to deal with certain things, or just simply not being interested. And when we have platforms like this, what it does is it provides an opportunity for individuals who have all this goodness inside them that they've created for themselves throughout their lived experience, pulling things from here, there, and everywhere, And I just talked with the sister upstairs, and being out of Miami, a very eclectic place, I'm sure she's gonna come up here and just tear it off the roof, and I look forward to hearing her. But the reason why it's important is because we come from a long lineage of storytellers. Again, going back to what I was saying as it relates to what our history looks like, it's just that, that oral history is most of the times our primary resources.

Right?

That's how we learn how to cook, how to make lilac soap, how to clean the greens, how to snap the peas, how to do this and how to do that. And what that does is that collects, that sends us or connects us to what symbolism may look like. The periwinkles in the cemeteries, right? All these different things that we know just innately came down from storytelling. So that's why it's so important.

Thank you for that. Frederick, you're going to be my buddy for tonight, so if you want to take a seat wherever, whichever one you want. You're going to be my right-hand man tonight.

All right.

So next we have Ms. Mosley, Cheryl Mosley, a.k.a. Sparkle. Come on up, Sparkle. All right, and Sparkle, I just have a few questions for you.

Okay.

All right, Sparkle, storytellers like you are viewed as genealogists or keepers of people's history and tradition. What do you see as the role of a storyteller in today's society?

Thank you. I see the role as a storyteller Number one, as being a change agent, because we can use storytelling in many forms and fashions, but also in many places that you don't think about. I know most people think that when you say storytelling, they expect the children to sit around you and listen to your stories. But storytelling today is used in the corporate arena. It is used in the homes and many, many, many different areas of our industry. Because what I find is that most people, when you want to really want them to get the message and listen, tell them a story. Because if you decide to go up, As I think someone mentioned, and all the beautiful things on the board and that, most times they're not really paying attention. And sometimes they are. So I find that the role of a storyteller can be an educator, because I go into the schools as a storyteller, which I use the curriculum to teach some of the things that the teachers want to reinforce by using my art. But not only storytelling, they use other art forms as well. And then you find that many people really are inspired and motivated by listening to stories. And they find that they can learn more about themselves by listening to stories that they feel that they can identify with. So when I think of a storyteller, I think the roles are unlimited. And I think it's important that when youth hear about storytellers, go see them. Go listen to them. You'll be amazed about what you can do, not just for your community, for your corporations, for your families, but you can use it as healing. You can use it in many facets, and you'll be surprised how well it is accepted.

Yes, ma'am. Thank you. And what made you want to be a storyteller and this agent of change, as you mentioned?

Now, that's a good question. Years ago, I was working at a bank, and one of my best friends said to me, "Oh, Sparkle, let's go to the storytelling in Myrtle Beach." I said, "Girl, you crazy! You think I'm gonna take off from work a week to go listen to stories?" I said, "Not even." So she said, "Well, I thought you said." That you like to do different things, learn different things. I said, but I don't. I didn't tell you I want to sit up there a whole week and listen to stories. Well, she did the beatdown on me. I end up going to Myrtle Beach. But when I got there, my intention was to hang out in the lobby, meet people, and laugh and enjoy myself. Well, I was standing in the lobby, and this elderly. Gentleman, his name is Dr. Morgan Hill, they call him Brother Blue. Brother Blue came up to me and he said, hello, storyteller. So I said, hi, I'm not a storyteller, I'm just a guest at your festival and conference. He said, I said hello, storyteller. And to myself I said, This man not listening to me. And so he looked at me and he said, so what do you do? I said, oh, I do things like monologues and poetry readings. And he said, and when you do that, what are you doing? I said, telling a story. So he looked at me and he said, you look like a storyteller. You have a voice like a storyteller. And when I see you next year, you're going to tell me you a storyteller. And I said, I say, you know, I could take a challenge. So I said, okay. So the first thing I did was I decided instead of hanging in the lobbies, I started going to the workshops. The first workshop I went to, it was storytelling as a business. I was clueless. First of all, I always thought storytelling was just a pastime. It's something you do. In that workshop, they had professional storytellers in there making almost $100,000. I said, I'm in the wrong field. I got real serious. And so, from that point forward, for the rest of the festival and conference, I started speaking with different professional storytellers and trying to learn a bit more. And they were so kind, because they said, we would like for you, if you need any help or information, just call us. So I left there with a made-up mind. I was going to become a storyteller. And then that night at the conference, they had a concert. And I sat and listened to all these storytellers. And I looked over at my friend and I said, I don't believe this. My mother used to sit on the porch and all the neighbors used to like to hang out at our house on the front porch. 'Cause she could sit and tell stories and recite poetry for hours. And I said to myself, I had no idea that my mother was a storyteller. And so I said to myself, you know, I wish she was living because she could tell me some of those stories so that I could tell them. And from that day The next year, I got my first job as a storyteller for the Afro-American Cultural Center, which is now known as the Gantt Center. And I was the opening storyteller for their storytime. And I've been telling stories ever since.

All right. Well, Sparkle, our storyteller, the stage is yours. Share with us your art.

Thank you.

Stories, stories, stories everywhere. I love to tell my story everywhere. Stories, stories, stories everywhere.

I love to tell my story everywhere. Thank you. I'm excited about being here this evening. The first story I want to share with you, the original story was called The Jealous Farmer, but you know, as storytellers, we can hear other stories and revise it to be our own story. And so the original story was written by Mitch Capel. However, I changed it around because I wanted to become known as Shake It Off, Stomp It Down, and Step Up. Once there was a jealous farmer Who acted just like a fool. You see, he was jealous of everything, even his next-door neighbor's prized mule. In fact, he was so jealous that he plotted and he planned until one night he decided that, you know what? I'm gonna get him. That prize mule must be killed. So he dug a hole and it was long and it was wide and it was deep. And eventually that old prize mule was walking around and he saw those oaks that that old jealous farmer had lined that hole with.

Ooh.

And when he went over, he started—

Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp.

He was eating those oats like he'd never eat again. But then he fell right on in. Well, the jealous farmer was so excited, he started throwing dirt on that prize mule's back. And every time he would throw dirt on On that prize mule's back, that mule would shake it off and stomp it down and he would step up. Well, the old jealous farmer was so excited 'cause he thought he really had him captured. So he started throwing dirt so fast, his shovel— Like the cart on fire. But what was the prize mule doing? Shaking it off, stomping it down, and he would step up. So that old prize mule kept— I want you to join me in singing and say, shake it off. Shake it off.

Stomp it down.

Stomp it down. And step up. Well, the jealous farmer didn't pay any mind as to what was going on. So when he bent over to throw that dirt on that prize mule's back, who had finally rose clean level with the ground, but that old prize mule looked at him and said to him, Hmm. And you know what he did? He drop-kicked that old prize mule all the way back to his raggedy shack. And I say to you today, when dirt of any conceivable kind get on your back, what you gonna do? Shake it off, stomp it down, and step up. And know that sometimes problems, trials, and tribulations can become stepping stones. And when dirt get on your back, you know, like Some of us, we don't like to change, so we are resistant to change. So what you gonna do when you are resistant? You're gonna shake it off and stomp it down and step up and know that change bring about success, new horizons, and broader boundaries. And if you have that, I can't, I can't do this, I can't do that, you know, the real I can't syndrome, what you gonna do? Shake it off, stomp it down, and step up. And know that you have the power within you to control Your attitude, your determination, and motivation to do more than you can. Now, you know, sometimes, especially in today's life, we are so stressed, overworked, underpaid, little sleep. So when you find yourself in that position, What you gonna do? Shake it off, stomp it down, and step up and stop. Take control of your life and remember S-E-X. Now get your minds out the gutters. For S-E-X S-E-X. S-E-X is the acronym for sleep, exercise, and extracurricular activities. So take time for S-E-X and enjoy your life. And sometimes we get so frustrated, we get aggravated, Confused, and we don't know what to do. Well, what you gonna do? Shake it off, stomp it down, and step up. So just stop and push, push, push, which stands for pray until something happens. So as you go through this life and dirt of any conceivable kind get on your back, what you gonna do?

Shake it off.

Shake it off, stomp it down, and step up and rise to the highest level in life that you can. Thank you.

Thank you, Sparkle.

You're welcome.

One more time for Ms. Sparkle. Shake it off, stomp it down, and step up. I was a little nervous with S-E-X because this, this isn't PRNWFAE. But we appreciate, we appreciate the oral form of storytelling. Frederick, we're about to move to another form of storytelling, and that's music. Music creates a place of refuge in otherwise unsafe spaces and times. Music being used as a tool in every major fight for Black liberation. Frederick, can you tell us the importance of music from slavery, to Prohibition, to civil rights, to Black Lives Matter? Yep.

And this is subjective, right? So I just wanted to let you all know that. When I think of the role of music throughout those different entities in which you just discussed, a lot of it, to me, is the messaging, for one, of safety. The messaging of direction, identifying places, ways in which you can navigate your desired outcome to come into fruition through song. I think of survival, I think of empowerment, I think of everything from a comprehensive standpoint that can create a soundtrack, or that has created a soundtrack that we still utilize today whenever we're experiencing something that may not necessarily necessarily be the most tasty, right? So, one of those most famous songs is, of course, Sam Cooke, A Change Is Gonna Come, right? Like, you heard that a lot in 2008, but you also heard that a lot during the civil rights movement, right? When we talk about brush arbors or hush arbors, is anyone familiar with brush arbors and hush arbors, by show of hand? Not too many people? There's actually, there were some here in Charlotte, St. Paul's Presbyterian Church, I just completed a documentary on Lawrence Orr, the Orr family here in Charlotte, North Carolina. And behind the St. Paul's Presbyterian Church, it was a brush arbor that was there previously. And this was back in the 1800s, late 1800s, that served as a place of sanctuary. They would do ring shouting, they would sing, and everything else. During the institution of slavery, enslaved individuals would sneak out to these places. And when I say brush arbor or hush arbor, it's literally just a bunch of brush. And they utilized that to the best of their ability to drown out some of the sound, right? So the overseers wouldn't hear, or the enslavers wouldn't hear. And so these were places of safety, places of secrecy, in which you had to be part of the member, right? You had to be part of the special club to be able to attend, because they could trust you enough to say that, you know, these individuals won't attend. I mean, won't, you know, blow our cover. And so when we think about some of these old Negro spirituals, throughout the South, that's where a lot of these originated, and they still spill over today. Even after emancipation, when we talk about— even now, right? When I think of, golly, so many songs, Stevie Wonder, when you talk about Marvin Gaye, when you talk about, golly, just so many different artists, it's hard to put it all in one category because— or just one genre, because throughout the world, this has happened. When I think of the song, even, We Are the World, right? And this is after all of those events in which you're talking about, you know, from the early sense of those decades. They have meaning, and that meaning is to empower. And we're still utilizing those forms of survival today, specifically in the African American community. There was a song called You Will Know by Black Men United, Does anyone remember that? Tevin Campbell, like, I don't want to say that guy's name, he's in jail. I'm sure y'all know who I'm talking about.

Yeah.

But I think he may have probably wrote it, he wrote, written everything, or maybe Quincy Jones wrote it. But so many different artists came together. When I think of Self-Destruction, right, in the '80s, right, hip-hop music, right? All of these transcend from this kind of call and response culture that we've always had in our communities since emancipation and prior to emancipation that really calls to action what you should do after the leaders of whatever group have orchestrated the messaging, right? And even with the Black— with Black Lives Matter, when we talk about individuals that are protesting in the streets, it's call and response that's associated with that. There's a direction that's given, and what happens? The crowd responds to that. That's what that is, right? And so, all of this is in the spirit of, in what I feel, freedom-seeking. It's a cry. It's a message. If I can't get my message out because I feel like I'm oppressed, then I'm going to utilize every avenue that I know in order to be able to get my message across. And that's what, throughout those spans of generations and things like that that you've talked about, that's how influential music is. And I know these brothers are about to tear it off, to tear the roof off with what it is that they're going to do, but I'm a board member of the Slave Dwelling Project in Charleston, and we talk about drumming a lot, and how that was utilized. during the institution of slavery and immediately afterwards. We've talked about how throughout the African diaspora the importance of drumming is, and so hopefully that answers some of your questions.

Yes, thank you. Thank you, Frederick. Next we have coming up to join us is Swats. Through Game Breaks, you and your colleagues created your own safe space space to bridge geek and hip-hop culture. We'd like to know what inspired you to do that, and also tell us what is geek culture and how you merge that with hip-hop culture, and what kinds of stories are you telling through your music?

Sure, sure. So, hi everyone. I'd say the inspiration probably came from— see, I know this crazy guy, right?

This crazy guy over here.

Omega Sparks.

Omega Sparks, yeah, yeah, yeah. So we used to be roommates, right? And he just walked around one day, and he was like, hey, I want to make an album about video games. And the first time I hear that, I'm like, okay, all right. So we were trying to figure that out, and, you know, that actually bubbles up into something. You know, it turns into something great, because at its essence, it is about storytelling. You know, when we're talking about geek culture and things like that, nerd culture, we're kind of erasing that stigma. It's really like what you like, what you're interested in. There's a lot of inspiring stuff out there that you can cling onto, latch onto. That's why so many people are doing it. No big deal. But hip-hop is the same thing. It's storytelling. You're talking about things that you've done, places you've been, experiences you've felt, stuff that made you feel a certain way. And when both are concerned, it's really talking about stuff that you like. And when you do that, you know, you want to— you get real hype about it. So why not join the two? Hip-hop, geek, nerd culture. Join the two. Tell a great story. You know, a lot of the stuff that we're doing is kind of empathetic, right?

Yeah.

We're diving into these characters. We already know the lore because we grew up with it. We've been doing this our whole lives. And so, we take that, and we build it into the structure of this music and these songs, and really, really, really great stuff. And even beyond the music, we are now creating a comic book ourselves. The first issue will be dropping this year. It's called MCs, and it encompasses everything: hip-hop, music, powers, great stories. 2 of the 3 main characters are heavily based on the 2 of us, so it's really, really cool. And big, big shout-out to the Arts and Science Council for helping us get that out financially. They are just awesome. They believed in us, and we're getting the job done. We'll have it out. So we really believe in y'all too, so thank you for what you've done. But yeah, give it up for them. Taking it back, Kind of to, like, the geek culture and whatnot. And, you know, there was this song that I wrote called Hard Edge. It was about my favorite video game character named Rock Howard. So, I'm writing this song, it's a passion project of mine. I go through the motions, and it's about this character, but it's not just about him, but it is about what he's gone through, what made him who he was, how he got to where he was. So I'm speaking through this character. And that kind of helped get that depth out and make it to where people were like, wow, he's really spitting something, you know what I'm saying? So, you know, we put that out, and lo and behold, after it's out there for a while, the guy who created this character, his name is Nobuyuki Kuroki, he's a Japanese man living in Japan, works for the company called SNK, he buys this song. He tweets about it on Twitter. And he sends me an email, and he's like, hey, this is amazing that I'm seeing something from my work that's inspiring somebody to write something about it from, like, 1999. It's crazy. I tell you what, the next video game that I'm making, I'm going to be blasting this song as I'm making it because you inspired me. I'm like, wait a minute. Okay, that's cool, you know?

Yeah.

So, like, I've created this body of work, that was inspired by this great character, and this amazing story, that is now helping to inspire the extension of that story. So, really, really good stuff there. It meant the world to me, and that's kind of the beginnings of how we got started on that geek stuff, you know?

Yeah, yeah. Thank you.

Thank you for sharing that.

Absolutely.

We've got a room of geeks in here. We actually, we call them public radio geeks.

Let's go, let's go.

That's these folks right here, public radio geeks. Could you share with the public radio geeks your craft, your art? The stage is yours.

Absolutely, absolutely. I guess we'll kick them off. So this first song is called Livewire. All right, I'll get into this character, but it's a song about hope. It's a song about breaking boundaries and just fulfilling your aspirations no matter what. So, Spocks, if you will kick me off with Livewire, let's get it in. Everybody hear okay?

Yeah, yeah, yo.

Did I do right? Fire, fire.

It's time to climb.

Time to climb higher, higher.

You said fire, fire with fire, with fire. I'm like alive, like alive.

Fire, fire.

Yeah, let's go. Yeah, I give anything escape the box. Moving faster than Mercury now you race the Watch if you want it, you gotta stay on it till you reach the top. And if I'm honest, I'm making a promise, kick it up a notch. I smash with that, but they mad when I broke ties. Sleep with me, I could have been a pad, but they won't ride for all night. Willing to fight until the sunrise. Hope you listen, don't be a prisoner to your own mind.

Fire, fire, it's time to climb higher.

We say fire, fire with fire. I'm like alive.

Fire, fire, yeah.

From here to infinity, deliver bars with more heart than the enemy. Can't get enough of this energy, I'm taking off with an ounce of this energy. I got an affinity, I won't slip or develop dependencies. You'll see my victory tendencies, never defeat, there'll be heat till the end. The green, it's the green.

Fire, fire, it's time to climb, it's time to climb. Higher, higher.

You set fire, you set fire with fire, fire.

I'm like a lion. Quiet, quiet, quiet. Tonight's the night. Tonight's the night. We rise up, we rise up. We'll reach new heights. We'll reach new heights. Fire, fire.

On overdrive. The heat don't tire.

We don't need them. Am I too loud? Am I too high for ya? I'm too high for you. And let's give it more.

No time for regret, push forward. Roadblocks gonna break that board, 'cause the mind's a battlefield for war. Gotta give it more. No time for regret, push forward. Roadblocks gonna break that board, 'cause the mind's a battlefield for war. Yeah, yeah. Livewire.

Thank you.

Are you ready?

Thank you, thank you so much, thank you so much. Yeah, my man doing the ad-libs over here, I love it. Yo, so yeah, that's my first track. I have another one for you guys. This one, man, oh man, oh man, I found myself in a really, really tough spot last year, just filled with, filled with stress. And, you know, I had the responsibilities of being a dad, you know, doing my corporate job, making the music, the and doing the this and doing the that, and I'm just tap dancing all over life, and I couldn't find my way out. I was just like, whoa, I don't know what to do. So I found myself in various different kinds of blocks, and I didn't know how to push forward. This was my way to push forward. Music is what pulled me out of that. I had those issues inside, I wrote about it, and I talked about it. This song is called Anxiety. This is my first time performing this song live.

Don't mess up!

Don't mess up now!

So it's gonna be, it's gonna be, you know, gonna be a little rocky, but we're gonna get through it. I got a little anxiety about this one. Hit me up.

Woo! 1, 2, 3. Won't you let me be? Feel like I'm drowning against the wall. Can't breathe, yet you're all I need.

In the beginning, I feel like we couldn't be a part at all. The kind of feeling you wish upon a star. They said we were never meant to be together. Leave it by tomorrow, we defy tomorrow. Try to say that the past year It was the last year, but the last tears brought you back here. Now we match. Fear's got us choking up.

It's a match, weird.

Now I know what's up. You gotta go. Maybe I'm finally woke. They say the feeling I want, feel like I'm broken. I'm not feeling enough, but I feel like I'm the one who chose this.

Open the door.

I don't wanna hear no more what you staying here for. I oppose this. Say no more. I'm about to go. Wrecking my soul. It's time to go, right?

Right? Trying to make it. You're not gonna take it like Can't breathe, yet you're all I need. Don't make me homeless. Ecstasy overnight. Dreaming, open my eyes. Why please? 'Cause you're all I need. Yeah, get it. Yeah.

Hasta luego, cielo negro. Yo estaba incompleto viviendo con miedo. Infierno hecho hecho. No me llamas. Ahora déjame en paz, no molestas acosas. Finalmente la gente presente ya está la libé. Sube, sube, yeah. Me felicitar como una eternidad. Ahora estoy arreglado, soy para dar. No dejaré de actuar hasta que me soy amigado. La gente está adorando, no me digas. Sé que me había olvidado, pero ahora nací de nuevo, así que seguiré adelante.

Trata, yeah. Trying to make it, but I'm not gonna take it. Can't breathe.

Yes, you are.

Can't breathe. Take me from this ecstasy. On the silence screaming, finally gone. Set free. Love inside your day. Yeah.

That one was tough. That one was tough. That one was tough.

All right, yo.

So, phew, got through it. This next song is getting back to the geek stuff, right? So this next song is called Irregular. This is about a character that I created, right? This particular character is different. It's a sentient AI being. Looks different, feels different, smells different, you know, all that stuff. But he's got so much potential that society is terrified of him. Anybody been looked at a certain kind of way? Somebody just looks at you assuming that you're going to do something or say something, you know, just have these preconceived judgments and notions of you, you know. This song is kind of about that. How do you navigate that? And I would like to welcome my boy Omega Sparks to rock with me on this.

Who?

Who that?

Omega Sparks, would you join me on Irregular so we can rock this out and tell this story?

I was just supposed to DJ.

Okay, it's too bad.

Let's get it.

Yeah. Silence. Silence.

Oh man.

Let's go. All I see, irregular function.

I mean, irregular function. Yeah. All I see, irregular function.

I mean, irregular function.

Yeah.

Yeah. Part of me, but I got no patience for the so-called maintenance. Pick him up, set him on the floor. Get down to the wire. Now they pulling on my cords. Yeah. Why? They think it's artificial intellect. It's relevant that I'm smarter than all the internet. I got more processing power than nanoseconds and hours. My calculations are rather sick over nations. Yeah, try me. It's why they coming for me.

Shut it down.

Breaking me down and rewriting all the coding. Great big bros borderline murder. Fake karma, never been a server. Now follow orders like I walk on water. You got my CPU, now put it back. I'm beeping you, I see your cardiacs. You ain't got the heart for that. Still pissing up any beans? Soon as you wanna be more than a man, more than a machine, all I see irregular function.

I mean irregular.

Yeah. 'Cause I'm not just like you. Think I'm not alive too. What is this? All I see, irregular function. All I need, irregular function. Yeah, 'cause I'm not out of fuel. I'm a free mind too. I figured it out now, I'm ready for more.

More!

We having a countdown, I'm ready for war.

War!

Know what about. Rock! Going about this.

Yeah!

Going aloud, so I'm gonna announce this. Burn away all I see.

Irregular function. All I need.

Thank y'all so much. Thank y'all so much. We appreciate you.

One more time for Swats and Omega. Thank you, gentlemen. Thank you, gentlemen. Music. If you're listening to Livewire, Anxiety, Irregular, you're hearing breakthrough, you're hearing overcoming struggles, resistance.

Indeed.

We all heard that words have power, and there's nothing more powerful than this next artist, and how she uses words to reflect, to heal, and to inspire. Hannah Hassan. I think this one's live, so we could just conversate a little bit before. Hannah, how are you today?

I'm good.

How you doing?

I'm all right. Thank you for being with us. It's for the 5-foot-6 club over here. Yeah, yeah, yeah, that's where we reside.

It's all good.

It's all good, yeah. As an artist, Hannah, how have you used your art and creations, specifically spoken word, as a way to showcase your activism?

Yeah, I don't know, activism is such a heavy word for me. Anytime folks call me an activist, I, I don't know, I reject it. Yeah, I reject it typically as a title. I'm an artist, a person who cares deeply about the community around her, and I have a big mouth, and I have been privileged enough to grow up in a household with a family, with parents who encouraged me To speak truth to power, to be courageous in the way that I use my words, to be responsible in the way that I use my words. And that is what I do. So, through spoken word poetry, I challenge systems, I create lines of connection, I seek to understand and give other people the space to do the same. And if some people see that as activism, Then so be it. Yeah.

Thank you. Recently, you've added playwright to your resume with I Am Queen Charlotte. For those who don't know, I Am Queen Charlotte was a stage show production featuring stories of Black women who have greatly shaped Charlotte. Can you tell us how this not only tells the stories of so many phenomenal women, but also tells your story? In the process?

Sure. So, I'm Queen Charlotte is a live onstage storytelling production. All of the productions that I do are that. So, it is the art of taking real, true narratives, so people's stories who are still living, breathing, existing amongst us today, and I write them and craft them and turn them into monologues, and they're performed on stages for audiences. I Am Queen Charlotte is probably one of the greatest blessings of my career to date. I am a Black woman. I know what it feels like in this body. I know what it feels like to exist out here, specifically in Charlotte, in this community as a Black woman. So, though we were telling stories of different women from, let's say, elected officials to businesswomen to nonprofit leaders, to people who are just, not just, but mothers and everyday folks. I see myself in those stories. Black women are not a monolith, but we are connected in so many ways. So, I'm telling other people's stories, but you can't get that without me. So, that's how my story's infused in it, because I am the artist. When someone shares their story with me, they're sharing it from their experience, Their point of view. I am then writing it based on what I heard, right? And then I pass it along to an actor, an actress who learns it, and they share it based on the way that they interpret it. So essentially, we are all taking this story and making it our own in some way or another.

Building on the success of I Am Queen Charlotte, You've recently shown on The Men Inside. Tell us The Men Inside, or tell us what The Men Inside is and why you felt it was important to capture the stories of Black men.

Sure. So after— well, I'll take— we'll take it out of the context of I Am Queen Charlotte. They're two totally different things. So both the Levine Museum of the New South and the Harvey B. Gantt Center have had an exhibition at their museums for quite some time now, and I'm not sure if it's still there or not, but it is in celebration and honor of Black men. So, through different artifacts and photographs and stories, we see the stories of Black men changemakers. It's called Men of Change. Both of those museums came together and commissioned my company, Epic Tribe, to create a live onstage production that would share the stories of Black men from our community. So, it was hyperlocal. So, I interviewed just a group of Black male changemakers who do life in Charlotte. I would say that one of them is here. They opened— so, Frederick. For anyone who can't see where I'm pointing.

So listen, here's the thing, when I ask people to tell me their story, you know, sometimes they're like, there's a little trepidation, they're like, what do you mean my story?

And I'm like, listen, like, just talk to me. And we talk. And I will say this, usually when I do an interview for this type of show with a person, it's about 30 to 40 minutes, right? I full-on went into this expecting I was expecting that the interviews with the men would be much shorter, and that I would have to do a lot more peeling and prying to get what I needed, right? I was wrong. These interviews, all of them were well over an hour. All of them almost immediately opened up and showed me who they were.

And in writing the stories, I had to take a step back and say, wait, did I already write this?

And again, Black men are not a monolith. But they got a lot of things in common. And way more than I could have ever thought, we don't often see Black men open up and pour out in that way, in a way that is received. My husband always says like, a crying Black man is the least sympathetic person you'll ever meet. Nobody thinks that that's anything that, you know, worth giving light to. And he would say that and I'm like, okay, you're being extra. I got it though. You know? I was perpetuating that same thing now that I think about it. He's gonna be happy we had this therapy here tonight. At any rate, the show was, um, it was more than just stories of Black men. It was an exploration of their hearts, of their experiences, um, and it was earlier this month, one night only, at the Booth Playhouse, sold out, a beautiful audience, and like one of the best experiences of my career today.

Yeah.

I'm glad you got to have that experience.

I'm glad I got to have this therapy.

Yes. Well, that's a beautiful gift you have, being able to pull the vulnerability out of Black women and Black men with just the conversations that you're able to have with them. That speaks to you.

I'm kind of nosy.

That helps.

Oh gosh, Ms. Hasan, as much as As you've successfully shared other people's stories through these projects, you also continue to share your own story through spoken word. What are you going to share with us this evening?

Not my own story.

Okay.

Mm-hmm. I am gonna share spoken word, though.

Yeah.

Yeah. So, I'm often commissioned by different nonprofits, some locally, and then in other parts of the country, to tell stories, maybe the story of the work that they're doing, or work that matters to them, through spoken word poetry. And I brought just a couple of pieces to share, if that's okay.

All right.

Y'all good with that?

Yeah.

So, and I thought specifically tonight I would tell a story of Charlotte, at least in the first piece. I was commissioned a couple of years ago during the pandemic, at the height of the pandemic, because we're still in a pandemic, to— by CBI, Community Building Initiative, which is an organization that does a lot of equity-based work, and they have this fundraiser every year, and in this particular year they had this theme of fault lines, which are the things that cause earthquakes, and exploring fault lines in the way that it impacts us, like, socially in our communities. I know it's a lot, but just roll with me here. So, I started to research fault lines and then went down this rabbit hole, And all of my work is based on themes of home, and especially that of, and the experiences of Black people. And so I thought that I would do a piece about the displacement that we're facing in our communities, and pay homage to some of the many Black communities that have existed, some that still exist, some that don't anymore here in Charlotte.

Bismillah. We have all shared the stories, spoken the words about the communities, the neighborhoods that once were Brooklyn, the people who are being actively displaced, Cherry. We harp on the memories, give love and light to their legacies. We prepare for the catastrophe that almost always comes with being erased. A fault is a fracture or disruption in the planet's surface. It's where the movement and displacement occurs. A fault line holds on to the pressure. It's holding everything together until the tension becomes so great that it literally rocks the earth, causes a convulsion, an earthquake, a tsunami, a disaster of grave proportions. It's the tiny cracks That form the lines of division that create the disasters that result in disruption. And we speak their stories. Tell the tales of the people and the families that once occupied this land. Catawba, Sugary. Name whole towns after them, Waxhaw. And roads and streets, Tuckasegee. We wade in their waters, Sugar Creek. Have benefited From their traditions, a good old Southern city where the living is easy. And we forge forward in the name of urban renewal with trains and tracks that slice through entire neighborhoods, Optimist Park, that displace whole families and generations of people who have lived and worked there, Enderly Park. We uproot stories and histories without a second thought of the experiences and memories created by the people who built their communities with creativity and care, Wilmore. And every time the people are erased, Brook Hill, families are left out in the cold, Biddleville, beneath the surface, Lockwood, beyond the visible, Smallwood, a crack is exposed. The plates begin to shift. Nature is taking its course. You cannot think that you can disregard the most vulnerable yet resilient of your city and not be met with a catastrophic force and not come face to face with the consequences of your actions. When what is in the ground can stay there no more, the people erupt, movements happen, perspectives shift, cities shake. Lives are changed and earths will quake. We speak their stories.

Discuss with candor how they can no longer afford to live there now.

Noda. About how their homes are purchased for pennies, then torn down and rebuilt.

First Ward.

Turn what meant something valuable to somebody's grandma. Greer Heights. Into condos and townhomes, half a million dollar build, Saversville. Disregard the irony of stripping yet another people from their home. Another crack reveals itself from beneath the surface. Another Black community erased and displaced. A city with a crisis of consciousness. Another neighborhood goes up for purchase. Another family out on the streets. Ousted to the outskirts of the city. Or to the places without access. Now those who can afford it are privileged to live in the ugly houses turned to pretty. The fault lines exposed. What a beautiful mess.

We tell the stories of our city as we work for better days.

And respond with hope and courage. We fight injustice, but we cannot ignore the cracks that have always existed beneath the surface. And if we are to prevent greater disaster, if we are to save our communities while there is still time, we must go back to the difficult truths That exist beneath us, we must follow the stories through the fault lines. So I'll do one more piece and I will go back to my seat.

This is a piece that was commissioned by an organization out of DC, and they do homework. They work in communities to make sure that we all have communities that are crafted with care. And they talked about how so many of their staff and employees and board members were doing all this work in the community, even when we were at the height of the pandemic. And they asked me to create a poem for them. So I thought about not just their people, but all the people who in this city are doing that as well. And this is To the People Who Hold Space. And if you are a person— I think you are just by being here— that cares about your community and has been doing even little things to make it better, this is also for you.

There is something in your story that has inspired you to awaken a force in the world, to assign the kind of purpose on your life that reaches beyond comfort and ease. There is a movement in your footsteps, a method to your process that's beyond what those without vision can understand or believe. You are the ones who hold space, uniquely craft the experience that we call home. You keep place, open our hearts to the possibility that there is more than what we have considered. You rearrange and reconfigure what community looks like, what family feels like, what our humanity can build like.

You hold space.

You are the ones who love without question.

Space.

And each day that you awaken to the reality that some things are not quite right here in our home, that the land that we stand on has not been given the honor that she deserves, that the neighbors that we live with, work, play, exist with are being counted out, underserved, when you see that their value is being devalued, that they're experiences are not being seen or heard, that there are systems at play to ensure that communities are displaced, that poverty is here to stay, that the contributions and sacrifices of Black and brown people are erased. You stand in all of your power and all of your purpose and you hold space. You make the commitment to be there for yourself and others. You get that the movement is bigger than you. You reach across the table and grab the hands of your sisters and brothers. You understand that only in tandem with one another can we truly move. You work your way through a system that has strategic barriers designed to halt progress, but you never give up on your mission. You listen to your heart, you follow your intuition, and when you face Obstacles, when keeping place feels like too heavy a burden to bear, you remember the small wins and the victories. You find inspiration in the stories of lives and communities impacted because someone like you chose to care. And when the lights go out and the powers that be are invested in the assurance that the resources won't flow, You keep your focus on the places and the people because when we come back into power, we need to be ready to go, to run, to keep creating a world that works for the whole, the all. You have stepped up to the mission and you have answered the call. You are crafting what it means to be at home in a big wide world that can sometimes ostracize and intimidate. You remind us that Everyone has a spot. Everyone in this room holds a place. You have given us permission to fit in the picture, to belong in the frame. You hold us together, and you, you, you hold space. Thank you.

Thank you.

One more time for Hannah Hassan. Thank you, Hannah, um, especially for again speaking truth to power, uh, with your spoken word. Next, as we set up here, we have Drums for Life. There's a quote from the late actor and comedian Redd Foxx that says, music played a large role in the survival of the Black people in America, that and a sense of humor that couldn't be enslaved. You know, I recently learned something interesting. I learned that in 1739, The Stono Rebellion, a rebellion of enslaved people, led to the banning of drums and horns. Most of us were taught that the 1740 Negro Act banned enslaved people to read or testify under oath. But why banning drums? We have Kojo Bae now and Raj. Kojo, could you tell us about the djembe and how African Americans made a few changes with this drum?

Thanks, thank you very much. Sure, the djembe is this drum here that we're looking at, this hand drum, which is now the most popular hand drum on the planet, and we're so very thankful to bring this knowledge out in a newly published book that I've been working on for about 20-something years. And recently— well, actually tomorrow it will be live. It's called Djembe Revolution: The Birth of the Djembe in America. And what you'll learn in the book was that when the Djembe came here in the late 1950s, it did not look like this. It was tacked on, nailed on to the, to the shell. The skin was nailed on, and in order to tune it, we had to put it into the sun or put some heat to it. And it was African Americans who created this tuning system using the rings and the cradles and the materials you see here so that the drum would stay tuned. So anywhere you hear that they're making a djembe, if you order it from Indonesia or China or Africa, in the islands, the drum is made like this. And that was because of African Americans like Chief Bey and Baba Yomi Yomi, Awolowo, and Balogun Love. So that is an interesting fact about the djembe that even Even djembe players that make a living playing, a lot of them don't know that. But you will when you pick up the book tomorrow.

Speaking more to the djembe, how was drumming used historically and in current times to share stories or tell messages?

Well, I mean, you spoke of the Stono Rebellion. Right there, they had to write the slave codes or the Black Codes, because those enslaved Africans were very successful in sending messages with the drums and recruiting other enslaved families to come together in pursuit of freedom. And because they were so successful, they had to ban the ownership of drums and the playing of drums and loud horns. The first— the other part of your question again, can you repeat that for me?

It was how you shared and spread messages with the drums.

Right, so the music, like my friends were talking about earlier, music— I have 11 children, and these are 2 of my children here, so all of them were born into this. And I use the music to help them go to sleep and calm down. We use the music to teach them lessons, to reinforce their culture. This is the perspective I come from. It's— this is our way of life. And they've been on stage with me, these 2, since they were 2 years old, playing choreography and repertoire. But for them, it's just been a part of their lives.

Yeah.

So they've been a part of us going out throughout this country and internationally, teaching students and teachers and corporations about our culture, about life lessons, about life skills, using the music and using the culture.

So you've taught us how drumming, especially the djembe, was used in history. and how it has a strong cultural role to uplift and empower African Americans. But can you tell us about how drumming can be used to heal?

Sure. We throw that around a lot, you know, that the healing of the drum. One of the things that I did when I first came down to Charlotte, I'm originally from Mount Vernon, New York, we came in from Connecticut, I got with a A music therapist. And music therapists and drummers who say we drum for healing, we have a little thing in the industry. Music therapists feel that we need to have clinical hours in order to say that, you know, we bring healing to a circle. And us drummers are saying, you need some more years playing this drum before you could say you can do some healing. But I got with a music therapist over at Queens University, and she observed my class at the Stonewall Jackson Youth Development Center, which is a secure facility for juveniles. I've been there for over 11 years working with the youth with the drums, life skills, rites of passage, teaching them how to make these drums, and they take those drums home with them when they, when when they're released. She observed my class, and then in turn I went to her clinic and observed her with her students and her clients. And it was really dynamic what she said to me after my observation. She said, I can use the gym bay for any type of treatment plan for any of my clients. And I thought that was profound because of what the djembe does to us. If you look up the science, and one of the benefits of the drum is that it helps to regenerate new cells in our bodies. Just being in a room like this, playing or just sitting in the room, the vibrations and the frequencies from these drums help to regenerate new cells in the body. So you think about that when you walk away from that drumming, you feel something. It's more than just a spiritual connection or I love that sound. Your body has undergone a change. So that's one of the ways, and I'd be here all night if I talk about the other ways of healing.

Thank you, we appreciate that. Well, gentlemen, share that healing with us.

Now that song, why do we all— I don't say we all, but I see some of you singing that song. It's a very popular song that has actually become kind of like an African-American African anthem. The song was made popular by the great Babatunde Olatunji, and there was 2 dancers that danced with him that brought the dance and the song to his group, and he brought that throughout the world. But those dances came from another group. That group was Dr. Pearl Primus's group, who was a pioneer of dance here in America. She was an anthropologist, and she traveled to Africa. She learned all these different cultures and brought back a host of dances and songs. But guess what? She didn't bring that song back. She learned it from someone.

Who?

And that person was Assa Dada Defora, who was a dancer from Sierra Leone who came here in 1929, started America's first African dance and drum troupe in 1930. He brought that song here. He brought that dance here. One of his lead dancers— I don't know if anybody knows Good Times. You remember Good Times? Who, who was the mom?

Florida.

Florida.

All right. What was her name?

Esther Rolle.

Esther Rolle.

Esther Rolle was in that group, the very first African dance and drum troupe in America. And they called her Skinny Minnie. And you'll learn some more when you pick up that book.

All right.

So that song, it sounded much different when they sang it when they came over from Sierra Leone. There was a dance teacher by the name of LaRock Bey out of New York, and because the Yoruba culture from Nigeria was really pumping, you know, in the '60s and the '70s, he took part of the Yoruba language and some of the Liberian Sierra Leone language and Put it all together and came up with that song, Funga La Fia Ashe Ashe.

Funga La Fia Ashe Ashe. Funga La Fia Ashe Ashe Ashe Ashe Ashe Ashe Ashe. Funga La Fia Ashe Ashe. Well, Funga La Fia Ashe Ashe.

Drums for life, drums for life, drums for life. Thank you, guys. Well, friends, I'm completely blown away. I'm healed. I'm touched. I'm connected. So much to reflect on as we close out Black History Month, though Black history always continues, as you've seen right in front of you by our artists and those that have shared with us this evening. I hope you all have learned more about Black storytelling and its vitality as we continue to look to the future and hold close to our hearts our past. Let's thank our phenomenal guests one more time for joining us tonight. Frederick Murphy, Hannah Hassan, Sean Swartz-Watson, Omega Sparks, Cheryl Sparkle Mosley, Kojo Bey, Nao Bey, and Raj Bey of Drums for Life. I would also like to thank our sponsors, Novant Health and Wells Fargo. I'm Chris Jones. This has been Equilibrium Live. To learn more about upcoming events from Equilibrium, go to wfae.org/events. Thank you all.