Tag Archives: PRESENT

DAY 8 — Dr. Feranmi Okanlami

Dr. Feranmi Okanlami experiences discrimination every single day.

It’s not necessarily because he’s a Black man, but because he’s a Black man in a wheelchair.

“Until I started to live life on the other side of the stethoscope… I did not realize how ableist our world was, how inaccessible the world was and how I was unintentionally complicit to this world,” he told Good Morning America.

A different lifetime: Feranmi Okanlami in March 2007, courtesy of the Stanford Invitational.

Dr. O, as he’s nicknamed, didn’t always use a chair. Born in Nigeria and raised in Indiana, he’d graduated Stanford as an All-American track star and captain of his team, then medical school at Michigan, and worked as a third-year resident in orthopedic surgery at Connecticut’s Yale New Haven Hospital. Dr. O was on a brilliant path until a 2013 Fourth of July accident changed his mode of transportation, and then some.

“I jumped into the pool,” he said. “I didn’t do a backflip or anything like that. There was no diving board, but I hit either the ground or the side of the pool or someone’s leg. I can’t be completely sure, but immediately I was unable to move anything from my chest down.”

Most people with his cervical injury “are not expected to ever be able to walk or stand,” his mother Bunmi said.

Dr. O is a man with higher expectations.

“I have an interesting intersection of science and faith, such that even if doctors had said I would never walk again, I wasn’t going to let that limit what I hoped for my recovery,” he said. “I know there is so much we don’t know about spinal cord injury, and I know the Lord can work miracles.”

Dr. O in the operating room where miracles happen.

Two months and countless hours of physical therapy later, Dr. O gained the mobility to extend his leg. With time, he gained something else too: a Master’s degree in Engineering, Science and Technology Entrepreneurship from the University of Notre Dame. “[I was] looking for something I could do to stimulate myself intellectually while I was working myself physically,” he said. Dr. O even finished his medical residency.

After his injury, he accomplished everything he’d set out to do as an able-bodied person, and then some. But Dr. O also found that the outside world put up unnecessary physical barriers every step of the way.

He learned that medical school admissions require physical qualifications that prevent those with certain disabilities from even applying. That’s just one reason why only 2.7% of doctors identify as disabled compared to more than 20% nationwide.

He realized that there have been more advancements in high-end self-driving cars than in making standard vehicles more accessible.

And as an athlete in a wheelchair, finding a good pick-up basketball game was near impossible.

Dr. O suddenly had invaluable insight into the lives of so many of his patients. “I have one foot in one world and one wheelchair wheel in another,” he said. Disabled patients can better relate to disabled doctors, of course. But think of how other patients like the pregnant woman on bedrest, the aging person beginning to lose mobility, even the child with a broken limb might benefit from a doctor who’s compassionately vulnerable.

“How are we supposed to be able to talk to patients and tell them it’s okay, that life can still go on, while creating a culture where the providers themselves must come across as immune to the same ailments we treat our patients for?” he wondered. “My goal is trying to demonstrate to them, through one lens of disability, that we are all going to have our difficulties and our struggles and that’s what makes you human, and believe it or not, sometimes your patients will value seeing the human in you.”

Dr. O knew that the human experiences he’d faced as a newly disabled person weren’t unique to him. So he set about changing those experiences for the better.

Where other doctors rightfully fear being judged for their disabilities, Dr. O used his experience as a spinal trauma patient to help develop a device that makes spinal screw placements more accurate and efficient.

He uses his platform and privilege to be vocal about how airlines treat wheelchairs, reminding PBS that “People don’t think that this is a serious concern and it’s just a matter of finding space to put your wheelchair, like not having enough space for your luggage in the airplane. They miss the fact that this is individuals’ lives that are at stake.

And as Director of Adaptive Sports and Fitness at the University of Michigan, he’s doing his part to ensure that people with disabilities have the same access to physical and outdoor activities that others do.

“Too often, we are judged by what we cannot do, rather than what we can,” he said, speaking to his goal of “Disabusing Disability” and creating a world where equal access and diversity truly extend to everyone.

Dr. O’s dream is for Michigan to combine its talents in medicine, athletics and science to become the premier home for accessible sporting facilities, drawing Paralympic and other elite level athletes from all over the world.

He’s gained so much traction that others are stepping up to help make his dream a reality for countless more. Just last year, the Craig H. Neilsen Foundation, whose mission of “changing the world for those living with spinal cord injuries and the definition of what is possible” aligns perfectly with Dr. O’s, donated $1 million dollars to Michigan Adaptive Sports.

But he also recognizes that it doesn’t take millions to make a difference in medicine, just a change of attitude.

“It is not that every Black patient needs a Black doctor, nor that every patient with a disability needs a physician with a disability. Every patient deserves an empathetic doctor,” he said.

And he means EVERY patient. His work at Michigan has earned Dr. O a place on national boards like the Association of American Medical Colleges Steering Committee for Diversity and Inclusion, the National Medical Association’s Council on Medical Legislation, and even the White House Office for Health Equity and Inclusion.

They said he’d never walk again. Today, with assistive devices like his standing frame wheelchair, Dr. O can perform surgeries, stand before an audience, and yes, even walk. He’s working on running, but until then, catch him chasing disability discrimination out of medicine, and with a little luck, the world.

He’s faced worse odds.

Dr. O, just doing his job with a little assist.

KEEP GOING BLACK IN HISTORY:

Get more of Dr. O in GMA host Robin Roberts’s Facebook Watch series, “Thriver Thursday.”

Hear Dr. O and Dr. Lisa Iezzoni from Harvard Medical School and Massachusetts General Hospital discuss how “Medicine Is Failing Disabled Patients” at Science Friday.

Read more about how Dr. O and others practicing “seek to mend attitudes” in medicine.

Follow Dr. O’s journey on Instagram.

DAY 4 — Dr. Mandë Holford

Behind Dr. Mandë Holford’s glowing smile and multiple STEM degrees lies a deep secret.

Efficient killers are her life’s work.

And those killers have the potential to change yours.

Well, they aren’t ALL killers…

The smallest cone snails carry a venom that’s no worse than a bee sting. But the largest of them—still only around 9 inches—pack enough power to kill humans in minutes.

Instead, Dr. Mandë is harnessing that power to kill pain and even cancer.

Like so many creatures of the deep, cone snails are beautiful but deadly. Every single one of the 3,200+ known species is carnivorous and venomous. Their decorative shells blend into the ocean floor, while a proboscis much like an elephant’s, but smaller, searches the water for prey. Once they’ve found a meal, cone snails deploy a small barb that envenomates with precision, incapacitating victims almost immediately.

Watch a cone snail strike moment-by-moment and learn how all of its different parts work to reel in an assortment of prey.

Cone snail venom works so efficiently because each species’ venom has thousands of individual components that each target different life functions. One may paralyze, while another targets respiration, and another blinds, rendering prey completely helpless. The only time a cone snail misses a meal is if it misses altogether.

So what does ANY of that have to do with medicine?

Imagine morphine—and every pain-killing opioid—becoming obsolete. Because cone snail toxins can directly target the nervous system, they can inhibit pain receptors with a medicine created by Mother Nature, instead of pharmaceutical companies.

Imagine stopping cancer’s growth in its tracks with simple, naturally derived injections instead of poisonous radiation treatments.

And imagine all of that from the hands of a little girl who loved the museum. At New York’s American Museum of Natural History, whole worlds unfolded before young Mandë Holford.

The Blue Whale display at the American Museum of Natural History’s Hall of Ocean Life.

But growing up always forces us to choose one.

Still, a BS in mathematics and chemistry and PhD. in Synthetic Protein Chemistry didn’t satisfy Dr. Mandë’s curiosity. But one day, the opportunity to study with a scientist who combined physics, chemistry and biology in his work came along, and reintroduced Dr. Mandë to science through the lens of a kaleidoscope instead of a microscope.

“This is what I would like to do,” she thought. “I’d like to bridge the medical training that I received at Rockefeller with the natural history and the wonder and excitement of studying what’s here in biodiversity. And figure out how to make science—how to do the kind of work that is both beneficial to society, but also exploring the wonder that’s here on our planet.”

And today, that is precisely what she does. Dr. Mandë’s work with cone snails and other venomous mollusks could revolutionize medicine.

See just how approachable & delightful Dr. Mande makes science in her TED Talk.

And that’s not just theoretically speaking. Prialt is an FDA-approved drug 1,000 times as potent as morphine with NONE of its chemical dependency. It’s also a direct derivative of cone snail venom. Dr. Mandë didn’t invent it, but she is working to perfect it. Right now, Prialt can only be administered through painful spinal taps. Dr. Mandë hopes to make it as simple as a booster shot.

But Prialt only utilizes one cone snail venom component, and there are thousands, if not millions, more to unlock for use in medicine. Each venom’s individual components—peptides—are tested to explore their effect on a variety of human cells. One such test revealed a peptide that specifically targeted liver cancer cells and inhibited their growth, a groundbreaking find. “What’s amazing about the peptides that we’re finding in the snail venom is not only are they giving us new drugs, but they’re also giving us new pathways for treating old problems,” says Holford.

All of these experiments and discoveries occur in their own little world bearing Dr. Mandë’s name: the Holford Lab at Hunter College at CUNY. But even outside of her lab, people take notice of Dr. Mandë. On a snail collecting trip to Papua New Guinea, she realized that all of the locals stared at her, a feeling familiar to many Black woman traveling abroad. “And you know, in your subconscious, you’re like, ‘What is it? Is it my hair? Do I have something in my teeth? What’s going on?’” But this time was different. This time, the locals stared because the chief scientist of a research team looked like them.

Discover more about what mollusks have to offer medicine at the Holford Lab.

“And it was something I wasn’t prepared for, because I didn’t view myself as a role model,” Holford says. “And I wasn’t trying to be anybody’s role model. You’re just trying to do your thing… but it was also empowering.”

With all that empowerment, Dr. Mandë hopes to bring other people who look like her into the fold. “I like to say that science is one of the cheapest careers. It’s like soccer—all you need is a ball,” she jokes. “In science, all you need is a brain, and all of us are born that way.”

And if you still aren’t convinced, consider the cone snail. It may be small. It may blend into its surroundings. But even without a backbone, this little creature wields the power of life and death… a power that only a few humans like Dr. Mandë Holford ever have the privilege to behold.


KEEP GOING BLACK IN HISTORY:

Explore the American Museum of Natural History interactively with Dr. Mandë as she works there today, thanks to the magic of Google Arts & Culture.

Learn more about Dr. Mandë’s background and research at Science Friday.

See the snails in action, while Dr. Mandë explains how their venom targets pain receptors and cancer cells on “Breakthrough: The Killer Snail Chemist,” a collaboration between national radio program Science Friday and the Howard Hughes Medical Institute.
Hear a panel of comedians try to get to the bottom of Dr. Mandë’s killer work on live show, podcast, and public radio program “You’re the Expert.”

If you like card games, you’ll love one based on Dr. Mandë’s research! “Killer Snails: Assassins of the Sea,” is supported by the National Science Foundation and 2016 Bit Award Winner for Best Tabletop Game.

DAY 23 — Dr. Lila Miller

By the time Lila Miller graduated Cornell University in 1977 in pursuit of her dream, she was ready to walk away from it all. Her Doctorate of Veterinary Medicine included more than her fair share of lessons in adversity.

Like so many women and Black people before her, Dr. Lila was deterred from pursuing her passion at all by others who were certain that her success was an impossibility. “There were hardly any women or people of color who were veterinarians [at the time],” she recalls.

When her persistent studies earned her a spot in Cornell, Dr. Lila got an up-close-and-personal look into why. Of the 65 students in Cornell’s veterinary program, only 14 were women, and only one other was Black. Those two women were disparagingly nicknamed “the Black panthers” by a professor, and the only time Dr. Lila can remember being called the n-slur was on campus.

Dr. Lila Miller (left) and Dr. Rochelle Woods (right) were the first two Black women to graduate Cornell’s school of veterinary medicine.

Unfortunate as they were, the external factors were predictable. But there’s only one way to find out you’re deathly allergic to horses. Dr. Lila’s reaction was so severe that she had to be hospitalized, but there’s no skipping the equine section of your veterinary degree, so once again, she had to push through.

It’s enough to bring anyone to their breaking point. So Dr. Lila did what any industrious college student folding under the pressure should do. She paid a visit to the Dean. And was greeted with even more pressure. “He told me, ‘Lila, you’re a guinea pig in this program. If you don’t finish it, they’re not going to let any more Black students in for the foreseeable future,’” she says.

Carrying the weight of her entire race wasn’t fair, but there it was. So instead of dropping out, Dr. Lila just pushed through even faster, graduating as one of the first two Black women ever admitted to Cornell’s program AND a year ahead of her class.

Finally relieved of all that pressure, Dr. Lila found that little had changed. “Cornell was very grueling and when I graduated I was drained and didn’t feel qualified to go into private practice and didn’t want to undergo the rigors of an internship either,” she said. “ In fact, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to be a veterinarian any more.”

Dr. Lila’s mentor happened to be overseeing the New York shelter system, and an invitation to join him while she considered her options suddenly blossomed into her life’s work. “I realized the impact of any improvements I could make would be far greater than I could make for the individual animals I would treat in private practice.”

Within 5 years of joining the NY ASPCA, Dr. Lila had revised old protocols and written new ones that established more humane euthanasia, spay/neuter processes, ongoing animal health care and adoption criteria, and became supervisor of the entire program. In those years, she discovered that the entire national system was in equal disarray. To give you an idea of the scope, before her protocols were written, animals that appeared healthy were treated as such, foregoing vaccinations, blood tests, deworming, and other care that’s now simply a given for animals anticipating forever homes. 

July 10th is Dr. Lila Miller Shelter Day in New York City. When she won a $25K award for her lifelong service to animals on that day, she donated it back to the New York shelter system. What a lady.

Dr. Lila is the reason why. She’s called “The Mother of Shelter Medicine” in veterinary trade circles, because her dedication to improving care for our furry friends combined with the visibility and authority her position at the ASPCA brought led to sweeping changes across shelters and the industry itself nationwide. Before her groundbreaking work, “shelter medicine” didn’t even actually exist. In addition to developing the first ever industry-wide veterinarian-written shelter protocols, Dr. Lila Miller is the co-author of the ONLY three textbooks on the subject, and returned to Cornell to teach the world’s FIRST college curriculum in shelter medicine. She’s an expert in identifying abuse in surrendered animals, and champion of companion animals. In fact, her expertise in that regard has been so critical, she’s the world’s first veterinarian appointed to the human National Board of Medical Examiners. Of course, Dr. Lila’s also on ALL of the veterinary boards you’ve never heard of, and she’s even made another big board. In recognition of her tremendous service, an image of Dr. Lila with one of her charges graced Times Square on Dr. Lila Miller Shelter Medicine Day

Though she retired in 2019, Dr. Lila is still active in teaching, consulting, chairing, speaking, and of course, inspiring. She’s currently out there in the world lobbying for more changes in veterinary medicine like publicly funded veterinary clinics for ANY client, reducing the financial barriers to studying veterinary medicine, and the inclusion of shelter medicine, anti-cruelty training, and animal behavior into the curriculum of every veterinary college. 

When asked what makes a good veterinarian, she responded “A universally compassionate person who doesn’t lose sight of doing what is right for the patient even though it isn’t always possible.”

Of course, when you’re Dr. Lila, impossible is nothing.

“The inherent value of the animal should not depend on its ownership,” the guiding principle of Dr. Lila Miller’s work. (Quote Illustration courtesy of Chewy.)

KEEP GOING BLACK IN HISTORY:

Spend an hour hearing from Dr. Lila herself on her experiences, her achievements, her hopes for increased diversity in veterinary medicine, and so much more!

Cornell University honors their most illustrious veterinary alum in a featurette here.

Gain more insight on Dr. Lila and the full scope of her work in her interview with Small Animal Talk.

Dr. Lila can’t change everything. Though she opened doors for humans and animals, Black veterinarians still struggle in the field. Read their stories at TIME Magazine.

DAY 22 — Rikki Kelly

Tequila’s got a real image problem.

Actually, maybe a few, but we’ll just stick with one today. For a liquor native to Mexico, the industry is awfully white.

“I thought to myself, ‘The liquor industry is filled with celebrity hotshots and you don’t see a lot of women, especially minority women taking on this industry by themselves’.”

So Rikki Kelly took her shot, and with it, the Fort Worth native became the first Black woman in Texas to own her own tequila brand, and only the third in the United States.

“When I created Ego Tequila, my goals were to make sure it was smooth in quality, approachable for newcomers and tequila loyalists, and out of the ordinary. I believe I understood the assignment,” she quips.

But the assignment wasn’t always easy. The liquor industry’s legal barriers alone are formidable, especially when you have NO funding or business experience. “I came into this industry with not a lot of knowledge and no guidance,” Rikki said. “From working with a distillery in Mexico to developing a consistent brand to securing accounts with wholesalers/retailers, everything was a learning process for me.” In fact, Rikki barely even had drinking experience when she launched Ego Tequila three years ago at just 24 years old. But she wouldn’t let any of that get in the way of her dream.

Rikki’s only startup capital was her weekly paychecks, so she stuck with a toxic, dysfunctional day job until she could make her dream come true. It’s a situation she’s not alone in. Even though Black women start more businesses in the United States than white women or white men, Black women are the most underfunded. Even when there’s verifiable data that they may have the cure for cancer, Black women can’t get funded, while others have gotten rich and famous as total frauds. According to an article in Forbes Magazine, “In the last 20 years, while women-owned businesses have increased by 114%, women of Color owned companies increased by 467%. Out of the 1800 Black-owned businesses that are created every day, only 20% make it above the poverty line. Why? Because of lack of equal access to capital.”

But that wasn’t Rikki’s only brush with inequities in business. “Being a Black woman in this industry, I feel sometimes it’s hard to be taken seriously. There are some people that see my brand and see me and they can’t put two and two together,” she says. “They think, ‘there’s no way you can develop a solid brand like this.’ When I’m talking about the brand, people assume I work for a distribution company or I’m just a brand representative. So the struggle has definitely been real, but I take it in stride and I don’t let it affect me because at the end of the day, this is my story and I’ve worked so hard to create this brand.”

Even though she stood out from the competition herself, Rikki’s Ego Tequila needed to do the same on shelves. Where most tequilas come in tall, slender bottles, RIkki chose one with more weight. Where most other tequilas have brightly colored or clear labels, Ego bears a rich blue and Aztec-inspired elements, because representing the culture where her product originated had just as much importance to Rikki as the product itself. “I knew it needed to stand out. And if we get some people hooked because of the beautiful bottle first, then we can retain them as fans of the juice,” she said.

After all, when it comes right down to it, it’s what’s on the inside that counts, whether you’re a human or a tequila. And Ego delivers the best of both worlds.


KEEP GOING BLACK IN HISTORY:

Track down where you can buy your own Ego at their website here.

And online shipping here!

Keep up with Ego Tequila on their Instagram.

DAY 20 — Vanilla Powell Beane

Only a handful of places immediately come to mind as somewhere a hat can transcend accessory to become ceremony.

Royal weddings and the Kentucky Derby have their own hat stories, but they’ve got nothing on the history and tradition a hat carries atop an African-American woman’s head.

Flash back to the Middle Passage, 1518.

Before Africans were transported on ships to the British Empire, the Americas, and all over the colonized world, they were shaved bald. Officially, shorn heads prevented lice and the sanitation issues bound to arise when people are chained in excrement.

“The American Slave,” an illustration in a 1900 issue of Pearson’s Magazine depicts an enslaved man being restrained for examination, shaving, some other nefarious purpose, or all of the above. Read more about violations of bodily autonomy regularly practiced during the Transatlantic Slave Trade at the African-American Intellectual History Society.

But there’s more to the story. Shaving a person’s head is the easiest way to dehumanize them. Throughout the centuries, it’s been used as a tool of war, degradation, and shame. The mighty Sampson lost his identity when his hair was shorn.  Even Nazis knew to shave and commodify their captives. And American slavers did the same, profiting from the hair, teeth, and even living bodies of the enslaved. 

But on glorious Sundays, away from the strict eye of their captors, the enslaved could adorn their shaved heads in any way they pleased. The hair once decorated with beads, shells, feathers and dyes in Africa, was replaced with elaborately tied wraps, some of which used techniques that had been carried across the Atlantic. Community and individuality were both reclaimed, all in a single piece of fabric.

Flash forward to the French colonies, 1685.

The French held a great deal of land in what’s now North America, and enacted the Code Noir enforcing specific (and outrageous) rules on the conduct of Black people throughout their colonies. In 1786 Louisiana, Code Noir was made even more outrageously specific when the governor, lobbied by his white female constituents, ordered that all women of color, free or enslaved, must cover their hair with a scarf or handkerchief called a tignon, devoid of any added embellishments like feathers or jewels. You see, white enslavers had so abused Black women that it had gotten hard to tell who was who anymore. A fair-skinned, well-dressed woman could be an upstanding white woman, a free Black woman, or the slave girl of a wealthy French family, and of course, treating them all the same would be disgraceful. Forcing only enslaved women to cover their hair would create visible classes among Black women, and that wouldn’t do either because the whole point of Tignon Law was to prevent Black women from thinking too highly of themselves and presenting themselves accordingly. Actually, the governor’s exact words were “too much luxury in their bearing.”

How tignons were MEANT to appear is seen in the painting of Dominican women, Free Women of Color with their Children and Servants, by Agostino Brunias, c. 1764–1796.
How tignons turned out. An unknown Creole woman painted by François Fleischbein in 1837.

Those actions backfired in the biggest way when tignons caught the eye of one Empress Josephine Bonaparte who began wearing her own as a fashion accessory. The tignon turned into a trend, and the racist society snobs of Louisiana were right back to square one.

Flash forward to modern day Civil Rights, and today’s story.

Members of the National Association of Fashion and Accessory Designers, an organization created by Mary McLeod Bethune (front center) and others to battle mainstream, white gatekeeping throughout the fashion industry . In 1975, Mrs. Vanilla Beane was inducted into the NAFAD Hall of Fame. Also, the hats, OK?!

African-American churches were the lifeblood of the movement. There, boycotts were organized, flyers were printed, and the people were fed, physically and spiritually, throughout their tireless fight. Those churches were also the only place African-Americans could truly serve as leaders in a culture where work, school, and leisure were segregated. African-American women in particular acted as pioneers and again, head coverings played their part. Women in leadership roles or married to leaders needed to be identifiable among crowds of their congregations and onlookers. A beautiful hat is also a symbol of dignity, status, and taste. Women who marched in the Montgomery Bus Boycotts came dressed not in their typical domestic uniforms, but in their Sunday best, knowing the optics of both their personal presentation, and of violence against a church-going woman. Nothing speaks to religious piety, humility and grace like a woman with her head covered. And when you couldn’t change your skin color, the one thing you could change was your clothes.

Dr. Dorothy Height, immortalized on a US postage stamp, wearing one of Mrs. Vanilla Beane’s hats.

Civil rights pioneer Dorothy Height knew all of this, and there was only one lady she trusted to capture all of that history for her: Vanilla Powell Beane.

If you’ve ever seen a photograph of Dorothy, you’ve almost certainly seen Mrs. Vanilla’s handiwork. 

In 1950s Washington D.C., Mrs. Vanilla was barely out of her 20s, just a working woman with no grand designs towards civil rights, history, or fashion. She didn’t even have hat-making experience. “I [worked] in a building where they sold hat materials, so I bought some and decided to see if I could do it.”

Today, she’s the 102 year old proprietor of Bené Millinery & Bridal Supplies, having built a reputation as hat maker to not only Dorothy Height, but other past and present African American women in power like D.C. Mayor Muriel Bowser and poet laureate Maya Angelou.

Vanilla Powell Beane, then and now.

Her shop opened in 1979 and prior to COVID shutdowns, Mrs. Vanilla still worked 40+ hours per week, crafting hats and styling customers. When she started making hats, segregation and Jim Crow was still very real. But today, her diverse range of hatwear sits atop a diverse range of heads, and she’s glad to teach any woman her “rules”: “Don’t match the hat to the outfit. Just buy a hat you like and the outfit will come. Never wear your hat more than one inch above your eyebrows. Slant it to look more interesting and possibly even risque.”

“She’s at the shop six days a week, and whenever we celebrate her birthday, she typically wants to stay open so people can stop by and get a hat to wear to the party,” Mrs. Vanilla’s granddaughter Jeni Hansen said. Mrs. Vanilla wholeheartedly agrees that it’s the shop and customers that have kept her going. At her age, she’s seen, experienced and overcome so much, including the deaths of her husband and son along the way, and of course most recently, a global pandemic affecting small businesses like never before. But Dr. Dorothy Height’s mother Fannie once said, “No matter what happens, you have to hold yourself together.”

Through Bené Millinery and her extraordinary work in a slowly dying art, Mrs. Vanilla has held herself—and the D.C. African-American culture together through hats, and thankfully, shows no signs of hanging up her own.

Mrs. Vanilla poses in front of creations in her shop, in a photo taken when she was a mere 90 years old.

KEEP GOING BLACK IN HISTORY:

Early last year, Mrs. Vanilla gifted Rep. Cori Bush a hat in recognition of Bush’s work on Capitol Hill. The two ladies shared a chat and showed us a bit of Mrs. Vanilla’s past and process here.
See more of Mrs. Vanilla’s work, her shop and her legacy here.

Inspect one of Mrs. Vanilla’s favorite hats in interactive 3D at the Smithsonian National Museum of African-American History & Culture.

Artist Ben Ferry was so delighted to meet Mrs. Vanilla in her shop that he created a whole art collection featuring the lady herself, her work, and her shop. The cover image for this post shows Mrs. Vanilla posing next to Ben’s work. See the collection here, and read the story of how these two opposite creatives attracted here.

September 19 was designated “Vanilla Beane Day” in the District of Columbia. Read the full proclamation, issued on Mrs. Vanilla’s 100th birthday, here.

Bené Millinery is still working to get online, but in the meantime, browse around and plan an in-person visit by appointment on their website.

Learn more about the history of Black hair, its care and its coverings around the globe and throughout the diaspora at BET.

It’s still not illegal to discriminate against a Black woman’s natural hair in the United States. Find out more about the steps being taken to pass The CROWN Act nationwide.

DAY 19 — Nyla Hayes

Beautiful, gentle, brave, graceful, larger than life…

…the Venn Diagram of amazing ladies and admirable dinosaurs is a circle.

At least that’s the premise behind the wildly successful digital art of Nyla Hayes.

“I fell in love with the Brontosaurus, which I lovingly referred to as ‘long neckie’,” she says. “Their beautiful long neck mixed with their size, gentle nature and bravery was so cool to me. And that’s basically what I want to show for my artwork, how beautiful and strong and powerful women can be.”

Pretty cute, right? You have no idea.

In the 4 years that she’s been creating and selling her work, Nyla’s “Long Neckie Ladies” and subsequent spin-off collections have earned her around $6 million in digital currency and the distinction of being TIME Magazine’s first ever artist-in-residence.

Nyla Hayes is 13 years old.

A tremendous part of her success is, of course, her medium. Nyla’s “Long Neckies” are NFTs (non-fungible tokens). I know this topic can be confusing, so let me attempt to break it down, because even the name is indecipherable, let alone understanding what it actually is. “Non-fungible” is essentially “one-of-a-kind.” Cash is fungible. You can trade it for lots of different things of equal value. When you buy an NFT, you’re buying a guarantee that you are the only owner of that thing. So what sorts of things are sold as NFTs? Anything you can save in digital form. Even tweets.

(I never said these were all worthwhile ways to spend money.)

So when you buy one of Nyla’s pieces, you’re buying her original digital art file, like buying an original painting in real life. Where NFT art differs from physical art though is that depending on the ownership agreement, an NFT may be yours to reprint, recreate, manipulate or display in whatever way you wish. (I say this depends, because when Budweiser entered the NFT market, their agreement demonstrated that “ownership” doesn’t necessarily mean it’s yours.)

What also makes NFTs so very different from physical art is that anyone can create, sell and get paid for them on the open market. NFT’s have all but eliminated the “struggle” from being an artist. Gone are the days of constantly buying new materials, of seeking shops and galleries to sell your art (minus their cut, of course), and all the overwhelming business aspects of making money from your creativity.

Without the accessibility that NFTs bring to the art market, Nyla would never have broken through.

“We really didn’t have enough money to do something with my art,” she recounts

But when NFTs emerged, her path suddenly cleared.

In March of last year, Nyla released her first NFT collection, simply titled “Long Neckies.” It was only the beginning.

Her “Long Neckie Ladies,” a collection of 3,300 diverse women with long necks, launched July 27, 2021. It sold out in 11 hours to the tune of nearly $2 million, many of which came from celebrity pockets.

But even bigger things (and final sale prices) were on the horizon.

Nyla’s work caught the eye of Keith Grossman, president of TIME Magazine. TIME was contracting artists to recreate their Women of the Year covers and thought Nyla perfectly embodied a digital, female, diverse, and future-forward dynamic they wanted to include in the project.

She created 1,000 unique portraits of 100 women who graced the cover of TIME Magazine, and her work was so impressive, so successful, and so iconic that they offered her a residency. “Since launching Long Neckie Ladies, Nyla has inspired many individuals within the NFT community and established herself as a leader amongst the next generation of emerging artists,” Grossman said. “We are thrilled to announce her as our first Artist-in-Residence for TIMEPieces and are excited to see how she applies her talent to our brand.”

There, she’ll have access to the resources, training, tools, and more “essentials needed to advance her career through NFTs.” Considering what she’s managed to accomplish on her own, the support of a media organization with the power of TIME Magazine means the sky’s the limit for Nyla.

Good thing she specializes in long necks.


KEEP GOING BLACK IN HISTORY:

CNN’s Julia Chatterjee spent a few minutes interviewing Nyla, exploring her art, and discussing her accomplishments in just XX short years.

Browse all 100 of Nyla’s Long Neckie Women of the Year at TIMEPieces.

Keep up with all things Long Neckie and Nyla’s big dreams on her Instagram.

The Long Neckies have grown to several different collections. Find links to see and maybe purchase them all on Nyla’s website.

DAY 11 — Jessica Watkins

As a fifth grader at Sally Ride Elementary School, Jessica Watkins daydreamed about life on Mars.

Little did she know that life could be her own.

But first, a few small steps…

Like becoming the first Black woman to live aboard the International Space Station.

And then, the first to live on the moon.

Jessica is one of 18 astronauts selected for the 2024 Artemis Mission that will return humans to the moon for the first time in 50 years, and our first long-term lunar stay. She’ll become just the 5th African-American woman in space while being accompanied by the second, Stephanie Wilson, who’s spent more time in space than any woman at 42 days, and also served as the voice of mission control during NASA’s first all-female spacewalk. (Jessica Meir and Christina Koch, the spacewalkers, will join Watkins and Wilson on the Artemis Mission.)

NASA is quick to note that they aren’t fully orchestrating all the diversity aboard these recent and upcoming missions, but that it’s a sign of the times: Meir & Koch’s fellow graduating astronaut candidates were 50% women.

But none have been quite like Jessica Watkins.

All of her life experiences—short as it’s been at just 33 years—have led up to this moment.

She describes herself as a “rock nerd,” but she also played rugby for Stanford.

Her PhD in planetary geology is one of many academic reasons she was selected for Artemis, and is a prime candidate for that mission’s post-moon Mars exploration: Jessica was an instrumental member of the science team for the Mars Curiosity Rover Program. She’s one of the mere mortals who knows its surface best. She’s also extensively studied Earth’s changing landscape from deserts, volcanoes, and underwater, as well as the ripple effects of those shifts. The lady knows millions of miles of rocks everywhere.

Her eclectic existence is precisely why Jessica sees so much possibility in space.

“There was something that always pulled me towards space — the idea of exploration, of wanting to push boundaries and capabilities, both technically and physically, but also mentally and spiritually. I kind of stumbled into geology and fell in love with that,” she said. “And then the stars aligned for me to end up here.”

And from the stars, she’ll continue her research.

Jessica joins seasoned astronauts Kjell Lindgren and Robert Hines (NASA) and Samantha Cristoforetti (ESA) as members of SpaceX’s Crew-4.

In April, Jessica boards SpaceX’s Crew Dragon capsule to depart for the International Space Station, where she’ll spend 6 months studying earth and space science, biological science, and observing and photographing the geological changes on Earth.

But her mission will still be undeniably human.

Despite global tensions between the two countries peaking at home, the U.S. and Russian segments of the ISS are still docked together. And Jessica, already making so much global history, will add her name as only the 8th African-American to board the station among 250, so few to serve as our ambassadors to the rest of the world.

A NASA map diagrams the global visitors to the International Space Station. See the detailed list of ISS guests, some of whom have been many times, here.

She credits all of her stellar accomplishments and tremendous firsts to being a girl who daydreamed and simply never stopped.

“A dream feels like a big, faraway goal that is going to be difficult to achieve, and something that you might achieve much later in life,” she said. “But in reality, what a dream is — or a dream realized is — is just putting one foot in front of the other on a daily basis. And if you put enough of those footprints together, eventually they become a path towards your dreams.”

In that path toward her dreams, Jessica’s following in some legendary footsteps and taking giant leaps toward a world that looks like home for us all.

Jessica takes the stage for the first time as an official Artemis astronaut.

KEEP GOING BLACK IN HISTORY:

Spend a few minutes learning more about Jessica in her official Artemis press video here.

The Artemis mission is scheduled to launch in 2023. Read more about it at its NASA-dedicated landing page.

Follow Jessica’s journey across the stars on her Instagram.

Read over Jessica’s official NASA astronaut bio, including her full list of qualifications and accomplishments.

Jessica speaks for herself in an interview with NPR about her research and the significance of her inclusion in the Artemis mission.

Learn more about Jessica and the (brief) history of African-Americans in space at the New York Times.

(NASA has further detail on those African-Americans here.)

Scientific-American writes about how “African-American astronauts have been another group of hidden figures in the U.S. space program”.

Marie Claire wonders “Why is Space Still So White?”

DAY 9 — Ezekiel Mitchell

Babies and cowboys have a reputation for being hard-headed.

So Ezekiel Mitchell’s mother was out of luck from the start when her baby quit football for the rodeo instead. Sorry, Waylon & Willie, you tried.

Most kids hop on YouTube to search for how to change a tire, or build a computer, or use chopsticks. Meanwhile, teenage Zeke used the platform to learn how to ride a bull. He even built his own mechanical practice bull right in the yard of his parents Texas home. His mother was NOT pleased.

His parents offered up roping and even bronc riding as alternatives, but Zeke was set on the rush of bull riding. 

“It’s like driving a truck off a cliff and then trying to steer it down. I love taking that complete and utter chaos and being able to control it for once. For those eight seconds at a time.”

Those 8 seconds of chaos are a lot of pressure for anyone, but especially when you’re driving change as the only Black rider in the room.

In fact, Zeke Mitchell is the ONLY African-American rider at the elite level on the entire Professional Bull Riders circuit.

“The truth is there are people who hate me because I’m Black, but times change and they have to accept it. Y’all can hate all you want. I don’t care. I’m going to be me. I’m here to ride bull and that’s about it.”

Because regardless of the eyes on him, Zeke’s only got eyes for one thing: the PBR championship title. And he’s ranked as high as second in his race for it.

Charlie Sampson, the first and only African-American professional bull riding world champion.

But when he set that goal, even he didn’t know he was shooting for something historic. 1982 was the first and only year in professional bull riding’s history that a World Championship winner was African-American. Charlie Sampson is a recipient of the PBR Ring of Honor, the highest award a rider can receive.

Though Zeke, Charlie and others like them are anomalies today, that wasn’t always the case: at one point, at least 25% of cowboys were Black.

As it was furthest from Union troops, Texas was slavery’s final stronghold, and nearly 90,000 Texans enlisted in the Confederate Army. In their absence, those they were fighting to keep enslaved tended to the state’s ranches, farms and other agricultural businesses. Though their war was lost, Texans still in need of skilled labor were willing to pay for it rather than see their family ranches fall into disrepair. But take a look at any piece of cowboy lore, cinema, or ephemera, and aside from Bass Reeves, Nat Love, and Bill Pickett, you’ll find a distinct lack of color. 

A Black cowboy who is neither Bass Reeves, Nat Love, or Bill Pickett. Amazing. Read more about the lesser known history of Black cowboys at Smithsonian Magazine.

“Cowboy” Mike Searles, a professor emeritus at Augusta State University puts it well. “If something is not in the popular imagination, it does not exist,” he says. In recent years, movies and documentaries like Posse, Django Unchained, Concrete Cowboy, and the Harder They Fall have begun to tell those stories. But why weren’t those stories included in the great American narrative sooner? “The West was where white men were able to show their courage. But if a black man could be heroic and have all the attributes that you give to the best qualities in men, then how was it possible to treat a black man as subservient or as a non-person?”

Denard Butler, fellow Black wrangler.

On a very small level, Denard Butler, another Black rodeo competitor, can relate to the treatment those early cowboys must have received. “When you’re black and competing in places like San Juan Capistrano, California; Price, Utah; and Prescott, Arizona… you will hear the N-word. A lot. I use it for power. I feed off it. I tell myself, ‘You’re going to read about me. You’re going to get sick of seeing me.’ I want it more than most, and so I use it as fuel.”

Zeke takes the arena amid fireworks, and brings his own flash too.

Zeke embraces his differences too. “I don’t fit the mold, but you don’t have to fit the mold,” he says. In fact, he’s intent on breaking it. Zeke Mitchell wears flashy riding gear, cares about growing his social following (he even has a 10-part Snapchat series), and hopes not only that he’ll win a title, but that he’ll become a star doing it, simply for the sake of bringing more people like him into the sport.

That infectious spirit and star power even brought his most reluctant supporter back into the fold: his mother Janie. “Every time I talk to Zeke, I tell him, ‘I’m proud of you, and you didn’t let anyone stop you, not even your mama.’


KEEP GOING BLACK IN HISTORY:

Walk a day in Ezekiel Mitchell’s boots with Gear Patrol.

Watch Zeke’s 10-episode long exclusive Snapchat series, “Life By the Horns”

Zeke’s got such a high profile in riding that even GQ Magazine’s done a great feature on him.

If you’re interested in more modern day representations of Black cowboys, I recommend following eightsecs on Instagram.

Even UK outlets like The Guardian recognizes that Black cowboys in the States have an untold legacy.

The Guardian also creates a detailed timeline of Black cowboys’ cinematic representations.

DAY 8 — Kendall Jackson

Scouting is in Kendall Jackson’s blood.

Kendall & her scoutmaster mom, Kellauna

Her mother, Kellauna Mack, is a scoutmaster, an assistant scoutmaster, and an executive with the Scouts’ Pathway to Adventure Council.

Kendall’s brother Kenneth earned the rank of Eagle Scout way back in 2011.

The Girl Scouts Gold Award is their organization’s equivalent to Eagle Scout, and many say its requirements are actually more difficult to meet.

But I bet you still didn’t know what it was called until you read it just now.

The rank of Eagle Scout is recognized by most Americans as one of the highest honors a minor can receive. In 2019, only 8% of eligible scouts earned Eagle, and since the inception of the Eagle Scout badge in 1912, only around 2% of scouts in Boy Scouts of America history have earned it.

It’s kind of a big deal.

And until February 1, 2019, it was a big deal Kendall Jackson wouldn’t get to have a part in.

But that was the day the Boy Scouts of America became Scouts BSA, opening its ranks to girls. Kendall was 15, and most Boy Scouts join their troops at around 10 or 11, earning their Eagle by 18. Eagle Scout badges are designed to be a process, requiring 7 ranks, 21 merit badges, an Eagle Service Project, demonstration of leadership within one’s troop, participate in a Scoutmaster conference and complete a board of review. Kendall had a lot of catching up to do, and wasted no time doing it. 

To be fair, she did have a bit of a leg up. “I had picked up certain skills, like learning the Scout Oath and the Scout Law, I had been saying it since I could talk,” she said.

Seems that it all stuck because in 2021, just two years after the Boy Scouts of America admitted girls, Kendall was among their inaugural class of 1,000 earning the title of Eagle Scout. But that’s not all. She also earned the honor of becoming the United States FIRST African-American Eagle Scout, among 21 other African-American girls in the thousand.

Kendall poses for her official Eagle Scout photo.

Needless to say, Kellauna was over the moon. And probably all of her ancestors with her.

Backpacker Magazine says that “When the BSA began allowing young women to join its programs, it faced criticism from those who believed that girls like Jackson would be better served by girls-specific programs and that the organization was not equipped to accommodate female scouts.”

That language sounds familiar.

Though the first African-American troops were formed in the early 1910s, due to segregation, it wasn’t until the 1920’s, that the Boy Scouts established “Project Outreach” as a recruitment effort. Project Outreach split its non-traditional (read: non-suburban, non-white) troops into categories: “feeble-minded, orphanages, settlements, and delinquent areas.” But let’s not mince words. The Boy Scouts of America categorized being Native, African, or Latino American alongside mental deficiency and homelessness.

That’s not necessarily a surprise if you know that one of the biggest financial supporters of the Boy Scouts was the Ku Klux Klan. When the Boy Scouts began to allow integration, but ultimately left those decisions up to the troops themselves, the KKK was so furious, they began attacking scouts of color.

The Sept. 4, 1921 Houston Post recognizes facilities donated to local Boy Scouts by the KKK. Read the page in full here.

The Girl Scouts didn’t make any landmark strides in integration either, according to Stacy A. Cordery, author of Juliette Gordon Low: The Remarkable Founder of the Girl Scouts. “Daisy Low had proclaimed in 1912 that she had ‘something important for the girls of Savannah and all America. […] It is safe to say that in 1912, at a time of virulent racism, neither Daisy Low nor those who authorized the constitution considered African-American girls to be part of the ‘all,'” she writes.

Of course, the BSA has had lots of very public struggles with inclusion, none more public than their 2000 Supreme Court case upholding their right to exclude LGBTQ scouts, a decision the Scout Council rescinded just 5 years later. The inclusion of women, especially Black women, as recipients of their highest award is monumental progress.

“I don’t think any of us really thought this day would come. To say I have made Black history is a blessing. It is very humbling,” Kendall said. “For me to be a part of that first class and say that I did it, I’m really proud of myself.”

Proud and prepared, that is.

All of Kendall’s badges, earned just 2 years after she was admitted to Scouts BSA.

KEEP GOING BLACK IN HISTORY:

Get a few more details of Kendall’s amazing story at the Chicago Tribune.

Kurt Banas of Wake Forest University writes for the the African-American Registry about what it meant to minorities to become a scout.

Scouting Magazine begins a conversation about the first Black troops and what they overcame to be included in an organization of distinction.

The Smithsonian Magazine details a short history of integration in the Girl Scouts and the African-American women who made it happen.

Browse the issue of Scout Life Magazine celebrating the journeys of BSA’s brand new Female Eagles.

DAY 6 — Kadir Nelson

There’s a not-so-secret slander running through the undercurrent of American history & media. It’s fairly obvious if you know what to look for… or if you’re a Black American.

For example, Sojourner Truth’s “Ain’t I a Woman?” is one of the earliest pieces of African-American literature introduced in elementary & middle-school curriculums. Most famously appearing in an April 1863 issue of the New York Independent, transcribed by Ms. Frances Gage (an associate of Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton) twelve years after the speech was delivered, “Ain’t I A Woman” is written in thick southern colloquialisms and the supposed vernacular of an enslaved person, 

But journalist Marius Robinson published the same speech on June 21, 1851 in The Anti-Slavery Bugle, and not only is it written in clearly decipherable King’s English, the words “ain’t I a woman?” NEVER appear in that version, approved for print by Sojourner Truth herself.

Compare journalist Marius Robinson’s transcription of Sojourner Truth’s speech to suffragette Frances Gage’s version of the same at The Sojourner Truth Project.

Not convinced? Think she pulled a favor from a friend? Think again. Sojourner Truth’s first language wasn’t English or an African language, but Dutch. She was born in Swartekill, NY. The only evidence that Sojourner would have spoken as presented in “Ain’t I A Woman?” is Frances’ Gage’s account itself, appearing second in historical records and over a decade later.

For a more visual representation, consider another of the few African-American figures who frequents American history books: Frederick Douglass. There are 160 known photographs of Frederick Douglass, more even than President Abraham Lincoln. And yet, the image of Mr. Douglass we know best is most likely that of a stern-faced, graying, relatively unapproachable man. No one ever sees the young Frederick Douglass, proud, handsome, full of personality.

LEFT: A generous version of the Frederick Douglass we know.
RIGHT: the Frederick Douglass we COULD know.
Frederick Douglass was the most photographed person in his lifetime, and though he rarely smiled because he didn’t want to be seen or represented as a “happy slave,” why do we only see the harshest version of him when so many exist?

Even today, media representations of African-Americans tend toward extremes. Criminals or memes. Rappers or impoverished. Jezebel, Mammy. Sapphire.

In this historical context, Kadir Nelson is more than an illustrator. He’s the hand holding a mirror to the truth.

Through Kadir’s paintings and illustrations, we see Black people from all over the world represented through eyes that adore them, not by those who would use them for their own gains, those who would undermine their credibility, or those who’d keep them out of positions of power.

But Kadir’s artistic vision wasn’t always so clear. As a child, his mother, who didn’t pursue her own passions for art, highly encouraged his. Nevertheless, he attended the illustrious Pratt Institute as an architecture major for the age-old reason: money. Despite the idealized “starving artist” archetype, the “unemployed, impoverished and Black” stereotype deters so many African-American creatives from pursuing their true calling. Luckily, only a year in, Kadir couldn’t resist his, changing his major to illustration instead.

“I have taken on the responsibility of creating artwork that speaks to the strength and inner beauty and outer beauty of people from all over the world,” Kadir said. “I like to create paintings of people who have overcome adversity but by being excellent or being strong or intelligent or having big hearts to remind people that they share those same qualities. When they see the paintings and feel the spirit of the people I am depicting, they are reminded of that within themselves. It all speaks to the story of the triumph and the hero that lives in all of us. If people take anything away from my work, that’s what I hope they take away from it.”

They most certainly did. Kadir’s first job was as a concept artist for the critically acclaimed film, Amistad. Since then, his work has lived in The National Baseball Hall of Fame, the US House of Representatives, the Smithsonian National Portrait Gallery, the National Museum of African American History and Culture, and many, many more.

But Kadir’s work isn’t out to glorify the myth of Black exceptionalism. He recalls a moment of everyday Blackness as inspiration he holds onto still. “My family was piling into my grandmother’s white Cadillac and I stood and waited for everyone to get inside. It was cold and breezy, and warm streetlights reflected off the shiny bluish sidewalk. I stood there feeling warm, wrapped up in my heavy winter coat, enjoying the breeze and the scenery. I remember thinking to myself, ‘This is beautiful.’ I was a six-year-old kid savoring the moment. It felt pretty special to me.”

Life’s littlest moments always are the most special, and those moments are so rarely seen occupied by Black faces. While validation from the mainstream was never necessary, the wider world has definitely taken notice of Kadir’s celebration of authentic Blackness as well. His art has been commissioned by HBO, Nike, Coca-Cola, National Geographic, Rolling Stone, and the list goes on and on.

The illustration work that he’s personally published or collaborated on outnumbers everything I’ve mentioned so far. His book illustrations have won too many awards to count from names like Caldecott, Scholastic, New York Times, and more authorities in the field. Kadir’s paintings also hang for purchase in high-end galleries, grace an assortment of music album covers, and have even appeared on USPS stamps. He might well be one of the most saturated African-American visual artists of the 21st Century, if not all the centuries. Perhaps because the truth resonates.

“I feel that art’s highest function is that of a mirror, reflecting the innermost beauty and divinity of the human spirit; and is most effective when it calls the viewer to remember one’s highest self… as it relates to the personal and collective stories of people,” he says.

If a picture is worth a thousand words, Kadir’s speak volumes upon volumes.


KEEP GOING BLACK IN HISTORY:

Kwame Alexander’s “The Undefeated,” illustrated by Kadir Nelson, is one of the most decorated picture books of all time. Take a peek inside here.

Browse Kadir’s portfolio of illustrations and commissions, and shop his gorgeous prints at his website.

Keep Kadir’s beautiful representations of Blackness and other Americana close at hand with a follow on Instagram.