 He got the 2020 Harry Tubman National Freedom Award, which is a big honor. And so congratulations of that. And so, Marika, where are you and how are you? Well, I'm actually surprisingly very good. I have been, Frank, you know, trying to behave myself and stay social distance. And also, you know, wearing my mask and washing my hands, my poor little hands are dried out. But yeah, so I'm especially, you know, as an elder, I'm, you know, very grateful to feel very healthy and well. So thank you. But even before we get started, I just wanna take a moment to thank you, Frank, to thank the Siegel Center for Theater, to thank Andy and Thea from HowlRound and all your funders and organizers and staff who make the Siegel talks possible. And especially to thank all those who have registered to listen and participate in this conversation. Thank you. Thank you. So how do you experience this time? You're a curator, producer, you have been so deeply involved. What's on your mind? Okay, so I wanna give, before I jump into this, I wanna give a little bit of background and context for the commentary and thoughts I'm gonna share today. So a few years ago, I was invited to speak on a panel regarding cultural diversity at the Public Theater. And during the brilliant Under the Radar Festival, which I'm sure you're familiar with, which was founded and produced by Mark Russell, during that conversation, I commented that I would like to address racism. And the European Caucasian man emphatically declared, I definitely do not want to talk about racism. I thought to myself, well, I guess not because it does not, or at least you think it does not, impact your everyday life, your work, your thinking, your imagination, your creativity, your very being. And around that same time, I was also invited to speak on a panel hosted by Kaiisha Johnson, who founded Women of Color in the Arts. And this was at the conference that we just mentioned, Association of Performing Arts Professionals, APAP. And that was also a conversation regarding cultural diversity. And during that conversation, an American Caucasian man commented with unmasked irritation, I must say. I've heard this all before. Why do we keep having the same conversations? However, a young, 20-something-year-old African-American woman stood up and asked to speak, and she commented, I've never heard these conversations before. This is always, I mean, this is all new to me. So I have to confess, Frank, that I'm always surprised when people ask me to speak because for those who know me for the last 20 or 25 years or so, I've had one primary topic of discussion, and that topic is racism. And how racism manifests and rears its ugly head in the art and cultural sector. So it's a conversation that seems many have wanted to avoid or just get over it, as I described. So I must say, I now find it interesting that it seems just about everyone wants to have a conversation on, you know, or a workshop or a salon on race or the political or social justice. And perhaps, you know, I now say, perhaps if we had spent 20 or 30 years ago having open and honest and transparent conversations about racism and injustice and oppression, we would not still be talking about the euphemisms of diversity, equity, inclusion, as if they were the newest thing since life bred. But when Asian people, Arab and Muslim people, Black people, Indigenous people, Chicano, and Latino people wanted to have the conversations about race and the political or social justice, we were usually told those issues had little or nothing to do with art and aesthetics. And in fact, artists who made those issues integral to their work were often dismissed and even denigrated, especially by art, dance, theater, music critics, and even their own cultural colleagues. And usually, we were accused for engaging in so-called identity politics that supposedly corrupted artistic excellence and quality and pure art, even as recently as March at an informal dinner, when we could still go to dinner at people's homes and educated, prominent, well-known, highly regarded and awarded artist said to me, with a little bit of a smear in her voice, I'm not interested in identity politics. So luckily, I had her email address. I later wrote to her and I asked, what did she mean by her comment? And I clarified, most African Black people don't have the luxury of dismissing or divorcing ourselves from the politics of identity. For centuries, African Black people had our culture, our dignity, our history, our identity beaten out of us and had our recognition, resources, respect, and reward robbed from us. And so it was, I think, one of the reasons why the eminent scholar, Melana Keringa, created the restorative principles of Kwanzaa, also known as Nguzo Sabah, and one of those principles is called Kujichagalia, or self-determination. In other words, to define ourselves, name ourselves, create for ourselves and speak for ourselves rather than to be defined and spoken for by others. So I'll pause there, unless you want me to continue. Please go on, that's a very important, please go on. Okay, so conversations about race and racism, and I know they're not easy. In our typical conversations about art and culture and curating and presenting and producing, we most often have discussions about best practice, process, funding and philanthropy, institutional security and sustainability, and so many other topics, of course. Sometimes we have the conversations about race and racism, but too often those conversations get stalled or stalemated by our limited knowledge of the subject, just like dance, music, theater, literature, the topics of race and racism require reading, research, study, and yes, analytical thinking and critical discourse. And I'm gonna repeat that, just like dance, music, theater, literature, the topics of race and racism require reading, research, study, and yes, analytical thinking and critical discourse. And I'm going to quote from one of the resources I would like to recommend to those who are listening. It's a book that I've been using as one of my Bibles for a couple, maybe even three decades now. It's called Work Papers, Rethinking and Restructuring the Arts Organization. It was written by Nello McDaniel and George Thorn. And the quote is, the language we use to talk about race is often harmful, inaccurate, sloppy, and it too often causes people of color to feel marginalized. We must begin to build a lexicon that makes greater sense, that gives us all our dignity, that speaks to who we are, rather than who we are not. I've been wondering why the social services don't talk about cultural diversity, they talk about racism. And those questions and conversations are never as tidy as the ones we have about cultural diversity. The corners don't get tucked in and they're not always as polite. End of quote. So I just have to say that, after decades of conversations and contradictions, one of the most challenging and perplexing issues for Baraka Saleh is how to address racism, especially as it manifests and rears its ugly head in the arts and cultural sector. And to echo the previous quote, Nellie McDaniel and George Thorn, if we are willing to have conversations about all those other things, as I said, funding, philanthropy, best practice, process, let's be willing to have the conversation about racism. Unfortunately, we usually prefer to have those polite conversations rather than the open, honest, transparent outside of our comfort zone conversations. The question is especially frustrating to those of us who refer to ourselves as the creative class, perhaps more than any professional sector. We imagine ourselves to be enlightened and liberal and noble and in other words, we are quick to self-defend. I'm a good person. I could not possibly be prejudiced or racist without realizing that we all function within a society and system that is propped up and perpetuated subconsciously, subliminately, subtly with institutionalized racism and racially charged cues, codes, stigmas, stereotypes. The ones we do not see or recognize in our mirror. So what can, of course, people wanna know, well, what can we do? What can we do? And so one of the things that I often talk about is it sometimes baffles me that we do not see the critical need to address language and change in our language. And often such attempts are unfortunately dismissed as political correctness or with a rationalization that we just need an easy handle or way to talk about groups of people or types of people or types of organizations. It also baffles me, Frank, that people do not understand that when you call someone out their name, that's what we used to say in Detroit, when you call someone out their name, it can be perceived as both insult and injury, especially when we can simply ask people, how do you reference yourself? How do you call yourself? As one funder once said to me, I don't wanna racialize the work that I do. And yet that same funder did not have an issue with putting people in distinct and separate racial categories. Minority, people of color, Alana. Now, I'm just like, and now we started using the term BIPOC, which just drives me crazy. So for those who may not be familiar, for example, Alana had become the term to reference African, Latina, Latino, Asian, Arab and Native American artists, communities, cultures. My question is, when will we let go of attempts to categorize, homogenize, monolithalize? That's a word I made up, by the way. Monolithalize people into one lump sum. When will we let go of cold words and euphemisms for race? And I'll say what those are. Ethnic, disadvantaged, disenfranchised, minority, multicultural, non-white, people of color, underprivileged, underrepresented, underserved. When we define or reference ourselves with those terms, I feel like it justifies, validates being funded, perceived, even exploited as lesser than. Those terms are always couched in the codes of being lesser than. I never hear Caucasian people refer to themselves as disenfranchised, disadvantaged, underserved, underrepresented. For decades, many of us have earnestly tackled these issues and I know many people feel like it's a moving target, but let us be clear. This is not an issue of convenient labeling. This is not an issue of political correctness. I believe that language and lexicon and labels are important barometers of cultural consciousness. Just as most of us no longer think it's appropriate to call African-Americans, black people, nigger or negro or coon or colored. We have to finally be able to move past, as I said, the codes, the stereotypes, the stigmas, the racially charged cues. So again, I will pause unless you want me to keep going. No, I think, you know, listen, I mean, you have been at the Segal and it's true, you were one that always raised these issues that always talked about this, but it was not felt as significant as it is now, which I think is hopefully a step. Yes, and that brings me, you know, even Frank too. You know, I'm asking a lot of people now who are wanting to have these conversations. I said conversations and workshops and, you know, et cetera. You know, so what I want to know is why and why now? Why is the conversation important now? And if you just tell me that it's important because folks are in the streets carrying signs, you know, saying black lives matter, that's not good enough for me because we were carrying signs, people were writing, you know, I could, and I don't have to tell you, you're in theater, you know, I could give you a list of all the playwrights from, you know, from Amiri Baraka to Douglas Turner Ward to all those folks who were literally carrying the signs with their theater and with their plays and with their writings for decades. And, you know, having a really hard time trying to get people to understand that we were being, you know, not marginalized, we were being oppressed and brutalized long before the killing and the public lynching and murder of Mr. Floyd. So, I will continue with, we must be willing to consider that unless we devote, this is actually a quote from a book I've just finished reading this summer, Frank. It's called, and some of your readers may already be familiar, and if not, we all, I don't care what race or culture you come from, I think this book should be in everyone's library. It's called White Fragility, why it's so hard for white people to talk about race. And one of the quotes that I appreciate is we must be willing to consider that unless we have devoted intentional and ongoing study, our opinions are uninformed and even ignorant, unless we are willing to admit or to consider that we have devoted intentional and ongoing study, our opinions are uninformed and even ignorant. And going back to that issue of terminology, I'm now quoting from Dr. Amalia Mesa-Baines, and again, I'm gonna give this as a resource at the end of my comments. This is from the book, Voices from the Battlefront, Achieving Cultural Equity. The multicultural discourse grows confused and falters on the issues of language, terminology, and naming. As the mainstream continues to appropriate multicultural themes, the descriptions of race, ethnicity, nationality grow more euphemistic. In such a context, cultural groups must struggle for specificity in their representation against the vague homogeneity imposed by a dominant culture. For example, the term Chicano, and this is a Chicano woman writing this, the term Chicano echoes a self-description of the historical, political, and cultural references of the largest group within the greater Latino communities of the United States. The Chicano experience provides fertile ground for examining critical issues of identity, origin, history, ancestry, affiliation, and activism. The language of the indigenous brought a conceptual base to the Chicano movement. Consequently, the conceptual base of Chicano thinking absorbed elements from various pre-Hispanic cultures. Artist and writers rearranged, reimagined, re-positioned creative and flexible devices to name and mark and identify people, places, and beliefs, culturally, politically, spiritually. And that's Dr. Amalia Mesa-Baines, who is herself a MacArthur Genius Fellow. So I would just like to, you know, conclude my comments and then open it up to yourself for others who may have comments or questions. You know, once again, everybody's always saying, you know, what can you do? So number one, as I've previously said, read Research Study. And I would actually like to recommend three books. The first one is Voices from the Battlefront, Achieving Cultural Equity. This is still, even though it was written, let me just see here, even though it was published in 1993, almost 30 years ago, by Marta Morena Vega, Dr. Marta Morena Vega, who was founder of the Caribbean Cultural Center in New York, an excellent book and also one of my Bibles. The other book that I mentioned and read from is called Work Papers, Rethinking and Restructuring the Arts Organization, as I mentioned by Nello McDaniel and George Thorn. And lastly, the other book that I quoted from is White Fragility, why it's so hard for white people to talk about racism. And even though this particular book is not specifically about the arts, it really has helped and enlightened me to have conversations about race and racism in the arts. So that's number one, Read Research Study. Two is Be Conscious of Language, another book that addresses the consciousness of the language that we use is called Language of Oppression. And I'm gonna send these to you so that you can share them with everyone. And, you know, taking a stand, you know, one of the things that we don't do is when we hear those conversations, whether it's at a dinner table, as I mentioned, or whether it's at a panel discussion, we don't stop people and say, what is it that you really mean? What are you saying? And let me share with you my experience in reference to what you're saying. Don't be apologetic and don't be apathetic about taking a stand against racism or sexism or classism or homophobia or anything else that denigrates and oppresses people. And then the last thing I would like to say is a quote by, oh, oh, and again, you know, attend as many conversations as you can, but as I say, go informed, read research study. And as a matter of fact, I would like to suggest and recommend to your readers that DC Black Repertory Theater is going to have a conversation called Black Theater Matters. This is gonna be a symposium panel on systematic racism in American theater. And I just realized I forgot to write down the date, but I think it's October 16th or 17th, but I'm sure you can find it on their website. It's DC Black Repertory Theater. The conversation is Black Theater Matters and there will be a panel on systematic racism in American theater. And then last but not least, I would like to read a quote by James Baldwin and this goes back to this issue of reducing people to synonyms and easy language. James Baldwin made a vow to young civil rights activists, if you will promise your elder brother that you will never ever accept any of the many derogatory degrading and reductive definitions that this society has ready for you, then I, Jimmy Baldwin, promise you I shall never betray you. Let me read that again. James Baldwin made a vow to young civil rights activists, if you promise your elder brother that you will never ever accept any of the many derogatory degrading and reductive definitions that this society has ready for you, then I, Jimmy Baldwin, promise you I shall never betray you. And in that spirit, an organization, a newly formed organization called the Creative Justice Initiative, has declared, and this has been signed by numerous individuals and organizations that says CJI, Creative Justice Institute does not use acronyms that include BIPOC, ALANA, among others, that erase or diminish our racial ethnic and cultural historical legacies. We believe that it is in honoring our unique contributions that we establish common grounds of understanding. That's it. Questions, comments, queries, criticisms. This is a very important and significant statement and as you said, you went from your bio within 30 years, you have been engaged in these conversations and discussions and trying to make a meaningful difference. And it's, again, you have to also talk about this today instead of perhaps all the ideas for our festival, what are you curating? But it is of significance. I think you once mentioned the Fannie Lou Hammer quote, that you're sick and tired of being sick and tired. Yes. So are you sick and tired of being sick and tired? Or do you see now something that is changing in this time of COVID? Well, that's an excellent question. I will absolutely say that I was at the point of in my life, in my career, in my work, Frank, of being sick and tired of being sick and tired. And it was that question, or actually the response to the question of that young woman at the APAP conference who stood up and said, you know, when the gentleman said, I've heard this all before, why do we keep having these same conversations? And that, you know, 20-something African-American woman said, but I've never heard these conversations before. This is all new to me. And so that is what gives me encouragement. I'm now honored and blessed to say, not only do I work as an independent consultant, but I also mentor not even many young people, many folks who are our age, and including, you know, a wonderful woman. And I believe actually she's listening, so I'll give her a shout-out. Her name is Susan Trice, and she's the finance director at Deeply Rooted Dance Company in Chicago. And Susan said to me, you know, I've spent all my life in finance, in business, in corporate America as a black woman, but Baraka, when I heard you speak, I had never heard anyone speak about these issues, especially as they relate to art and culture. And now that I, you know, work in an organization that's all about art and culture, I want to know more about what these issues are and how I can address them, not only for my organization, but in my life. And I think this is critical also, Frank, that we're not just talking about how we address these issues in our work, but how do we address them in our life? As I said, you know, if you're at an informal dinner and people are making, you know, off color or untoward comments, you need to be able to respond to those. You know, if nothing else, you know, if you don't have an immediate comment, you know, say, read a book and give them some suggestions of something to read, you know, and I have to share again, you know, in the informal setting a few years back, this is only maybe about two or three years ago, I was having Thanksgiving dinner of all things, I should have known better because I always celebrate Thanksgiving doing prayer and meditation, you know, it's a time for me to give thanks on a personal level. And so I decided to accept a dinner invitation on a Thanksgiving evening, which I never do. And I thought I was the only Black person in the gathering. And so I thought I was getting ready to pat myself on the back because after about two or three hours, we were all getting ready to leave and a woman said to me, can I ask you a question? I was like, oh no, here it comes. I thought we were gonna be able to get out of here and go home without an issue, you know, that usually happens at family dinners and gatherings. The woman who again is educated, well traveled, I would even say rich if not wealthy has been all over the world. And she said to me, you know, what can we do about race? And I was like, oh no, here it comes. And I said, well, one of the reasons I feel like we're still having the conversations about race is because we cannot be open and honest and transparent. We're still trying to have the polite conversations that don't get us anywhere instead of saying what we really think and feel and respectfully, I don't mean of course disrespectfully, but saying with honesty what we really feel and think, we can't get past, you know, the conversation of racism and maybe we never will. I mean, that's what Ta-Nehisi Coates said, you know, we're always gonna be dealing with racism. But she, but so she then says, but okay, so then can I be honest with you? I said, absolutely. She said, well, I think that everybody in America should be absolutely required to speak English. I was like, oh no. I said, okay, well, if I can respectfully be honest with you, I disagree. I said, you are talking to a person, like I just said in my remarks, who come from a people who had their language, their culture, their identity, their history, beat out of them, you know, whipped out of them, lynched out of them. So no, I do not subscribe to the fact that everybody in this country should be required to speak English. She retorted, but it's the lingua franca of our country. I paused and I said, no, it's not. Let me tell you what the lingua franca of our country is. It's called Navajo, it's called Lakota, it's called Sioux, it's called indigenous language. And there's not a city, a state, you know, that you cannot go to that doesn't have a lake or a city or a street or a mountain or a hillside that is not named by the indigenous people of our country. That's the lingua franca of our country. And so if you think there should be one language, I suggest that you start studying one of those languages before you think everybody else should speak English. So those are the things that I'm saying. It's not just about our work, it's about speaking up and addressing again, you know, racism, homophobia, classism, sexism, you know, all of it, not just in our work, but in our everyday lives. And that will eventually translate and become an integral part of our work as well. Yeah, it's true. And on top of it, the Sioux language or the hardest to learn right there, not as simple and easy, you know, I think they're complex and great languages, so full of meaning and connections. We actually do not know because we're not able to speak and learn them. So we don't see the world through those languages which would make our experience of life. Yes. And you know, this is the difficulty I have with the conversation about the melting pot, you know, everybody says America is great because it's the melting pot. And I'm like, wait a minute, I don't mind the melting pot meaning people come together. That's one thing. Or people even come together for unified goal and purpose and solidarity. But when we talk about the melting pot as assimilation where people are required to lose their identity, you know, everybody gets, you know, I call it the American uniforms, either t-shirt and blue jeans or a suit and a tie. You know, those have become our American uniforms. And to say that you're only American if you dress like this, talk like this, think like this, create or do your work like this, I think is a very dangerous thing. We are wiping out, you know, you know, millennia of, you know, culture, history, traditions, languages, et cetera. To me, it's no different than, you know, wiping out our ecology. You know, what are we doing? Let's think about what we are doing as well as what we are saying. Yeah, yeah, it's true that in French, la Troie de la Différence, they're right to be different. And which is the significant and that majority does not mean, you know, true democracy or freedom of speech on the contrary. I mean, in the German experience, of course, in the Third Reich, you know, it was also very national. Was one community, you know, one people liked each other and said we are one. But it was devastating, the greatest unparalleled, you know, disasters of history of mankind came out of it. And it should be a very big warning to everybody. And I think art should perhaps be then on the side to say, no, there are differences. They're different things. It's interesting and it's good. Edouard Glissant, who's a great writer from the Caribbean who actually taught at the Great Century, he said, it's a failure of imagination. You know, what you said that the brutality in our society and the systematic oppression and institutional racism, the white supremacy, sexism, homophobia and so on. He said, it's also a failure of imagination that there could be a better world, a different world, and I think art imagines it and for a moment it's real, it's anticipated. And if it's real, it could happen on a stage and a concert and a book in a poem. It can also happen. You once said, I believe in education, but not confrontation. Oh my goodness, where did you get that from? It's reals, it's out over the years. I mean, I read them. You read them, oh my goodness. Thank you, Frank, I love you for that. Yeah, the big blue font, which doesn't make it always easy to read, but I do. So do you think art is education? What's your idea? Well, without question. And education does not necessarily mean didactic. Again, I just quoted James Baldwin, who in my opinion is one of the most brilliant and subtly sophisticated writers I've ever met. People always, I have to say I'm one of those folks who used to be very, well, I won't tell you all the names I've been called, but one of them is, one of them has been the belligerent black woman. And I've been called the belligerent black woman just for standing up and talking about the very issues I've just shared in this conversation with you. And so I had to realize that to get people to hear what I was saying and also for me to hear, Frank, what other people were saying, that I not only had to educate myself, but what I desired to do was, not just to fight with others, but to educate others as well. And that's why in all my talks, I always try to leave folks with resource material and materials that they can educate themselves. Because I'm at the point in my life where I've been done, and this is not to pat myself on the back, I'm just stating this as a fact, I have done so much study and research. For 27 years, I know I have friends who are getting ready to roll their eyes for those who have known me long enough. I spent 27 years without a television. All I did was read research and study, read research, study, read research, study, 27 years. And so now I'm often not willing to have conversations with folks who don't. If you just wanna tell me your opinion, to be honest, with all due respect, I'm usually not interested in your opinion. I really want to know what are the facts or even sometimes, yes, what is your direct experience, but just people spouting their opinions, I feel is not particularly helpful or useful. And I will go back to that quote by Robin D'Angelo, white fragility, why it's so hard for white people to talk about race, in which she said, we must be willing to consider that unless we have devoted, intentional, and ongoing study, our opinions are uninformed and even ignorant. And so yes, it is for me now in this point in my life about education, not confrontation. And going back to your question about, am I sick and tired of being sick and tired, it also goes back to educating that next generation who is still gonna be dealing with these issues and these dilemmas that we have in our culture. And so making sure that they are armed and educated with the information that has been so generously shared with me by Dr. Marta Morena Vega and her book and others. It's just, I can't emphasize enough, the books I shared, those were gifts in my life. Those were guidelines and lights at the end of the tunnel when I was in early in my career, when I was so frustrated and could not figure out what is going on? What is going on? So yeah, education, not confrontation is one of my aphorisms and thank you for paying attention. Thank you for reading, yeah. Yeah, and I think if I remember right, you also mentioned some of it, I miss remember, but that everything is about, Angela Davis said, it's a struggle about revolutionary transformation. She said all the things that are happening what we have to focus on is a transformation. Revolutionary one and I agree, I think it is a time now that showed more than ever that there needs to be a transformation, that this is a time of change. Maybe things have already changed. So, but we're also here to talk about art or listen about art and theater performance. You said the books were the transformative moments but I know you created the Alternate Root Festival, the South Asia Theater Festival at NJPAC and others. What do you look in art or what art do you present? Do you feel should be presented to be part of that revolutionary transformation? What do we need? Well, I want to thank you for again, sharing that quote by Angela Davis and I would also like to share this quote by Darren Walker, president of the Ford Foundation for those of you who are not familiar because and I say this because once again, you know, there were times when I was saying all these things and I was the lone wolf and people were acting like I was crazy or people were treating or talking about me behind my back or saying to my face, you know, belligerent black woman but I was in a, I was on a, again on a advisory committee for APAP and we were, the committee was planning for the next festival and I brought up the question of why aren't we talking about revolutionary change in any of our APAP panels or discussions or plenary sessions and somebody emailed me afterwards and said, oh, you know, you were an embarrassment for bringing up revolution. I was like, what world am I in? And so then Darren Walker came out with this quote and I was jubilant. I sent it to everybody on that panel. I sent it to the president of APAP. I sent it to all of his staff. This is the quote from Darren Walker. Changes in the world around us demand more than ever that we recognize and celebrate art, creativity and freedom of expression as the revolutionary forces they are. Widening inequality, growing extremism, evolving technology and volatile markets, render art and its unique role in affecting social change more important, not less. So, you know, I consider art, you know, yes, just like Darren Walker said, a revolutionary force. And so I'm, when I'm presenting, I'm looking at or now get curating when I have the opportunity to do so. I look at artists from all over the world who are talking and seeking change. One of those artists that I have the pleasure and privilege to work with is someone who's actually participated in one of your previous conversations, Frank, and that's Stacey Klein. Yes, with Double Edge Theater. And for those who are not familiar, you need to go to that website, Double Edge Theater in Ashfield, Massachusetts. They are doing amazing and phenomenal work. They call it Art Justice. But, you know, again, people want to be critical and say, well, you're not looking at the aesthetics, Baraka, you're not looking at excellence in arts. And I say to people, excellence and quality, no, no cultural boundaries. You can still deal with the issues of life, the issues of politics, the issues of social justice, the issues of change, and yes, the issues of revolution at the highest artistic and aesthetic level. I don't care who you are. And again, those are the kinds of works that we saw with the, you know, Amity Baraka's of the world and the Douglas Turner's of the world and the Nina Simone's of the world and, you know, art and culture, you know, high art and high culture, no, no cultural boundaries. And so I am, yes, often looking at people who are struggling with and dealing with those issues in their communities because they're the ones who often do not get the voice, who do not get heard, who do not get a stage. That's why my programs was called Alternate Roots because it was not necessarily about mainstream presentation. It was not about, you know, Broadway, as much as I love Broadway, I frequently buy tickets to Broadway presentations, but can we also give voice and platform and resources and funding and contracts and opportunity to those artists who don't get heard and their issues? One of the things I try to do, one of the things that I did at New Jersey Performing Arts Center is for 10 years, I produced an international hip hop festival. Now, for those of you who don't know New Jersey Performing Arts Center, this is not to brag or boast, but this is just to give you the context. It's a $180 million art facility. At the time that I worked there, it had a budget of about a little over $20 million. It had a staff of over 100 people. And I say that because the last thing that people thought was coming to New Jersey Performing Arts Center was an international hip hop festival. And I have to give kudos and to our former president and founder, Larry Goldman, who when he received letters, he actually received a letter from a wealthy patron who said, if Baraka Saleh presents hip hop at NJPAC at New Jersey Performing Arts Center, she was gonna withdraw her support. And he said, we would hate for that to happen, but let me tell you this is what an arts center does. It provides a platform for presentation of voices that don't get heard, and especially on a platform at that kind of high level. So yes, I'm proud to say that is indeed the kind of work that I've tried to do throughout my career, not just that New Jersey Performing Arts Center. It actually also has an incredibly beautiful stage and the good acoustics is something that went right in a new building, often theorists don't work. It doesn't, coming to hip hop also, which came out of the Bronx when the Bronx was still burning, when there were no arts grants and nobody helped them and they did something on their own, as you said, by us. And in force, it became a culture that actually went around the world. It's stunning actually, as a great American contribution to contemporary music that such a center would have the people on the boards, which also perhaps is a bit of the problem that in the part of Europe and other places, yes, you have people who support the center on a board, but you also have artists or it's artist driven or artists that have the same voice. It was probably, I don't know how it was on the NJ board, was there just an artist, a working artist? We presented lots of organizations. I know it's not, you pay money and you participate and so then it changes the conversation. So yeah, structurally, things will have to change to also get better, better theater and better access. I wanted to read something also from you. You said, what should be on stage? What is in there? You said there are the questions you always ask. Who are we putting on stage? And what is really on stage? What's the type of interaction we expect to have with the audience and community? And what impact will it have? So that I think is a big question, especially the last ones, the interaction with the community and the impact it will have. What are your thoughts on that? Well, absolutely. There's no question that impact and connection with community is just as critical as what people are seeing on the stage. One of the, oh, go ahead. Yeah, what do you mean by impact? What is that impact? So again, if I could just even give an example, one of the good things that actually came out of 2001, at least for me at New Jersey Performing Arts Center was my budget got significantly cut because as you know and for folks around the country, arts organizations in New York after 9-11 were having a really difficult time. Just like now, people did not wanna go out, people were afraid to go out in crowds, afraid of terrorism and potential bombings, all of that. So many of us lost our subscription series. We lost people who regularly came to our theaters and our performing arts centers. And when NJPAC told me I would have to cut my budget, everybody was like, oh, Baraka's gonna be up so upset. And I was like, no. The only thing I asked is that you let me cut my budget and not let an administrator or a finance person cut my budget. And so I had to then really focus, Frank, on what was important to me. And so what I went back and asked is I want to cut the main stage programming. And what I prefer to do is implement a residency program. So that artists, whether I'm bringing artists from, you know, Mozambique or theater artists from Cote d'Ivoire or theater artists from Portugal or theater artists from Taiwan. I mean, I brought theater from all those places, but that they have an opportunity to connect with my community. So they weren't just here for a performance or two and go home, they had residency opportunities. To go and spend time in my, not just my schools, in churches, in community centers. And what that also did is not only have an impact, it built an audience as well. People wanted to know, you know, as one man said to our marketing director, that Baraka Saleh, I never know what she's gonna bring to NJPAC, but I know it's always gonna be something of high quality and I'm going to learn something. And to me, learning is impact. And giving people from across the world the opportunity to intersect, interact, and learn each other's cultures, I don't know of any greater impact than that. And so this was, and what I would also do is create programs and manuals that weren't just the standard program notes, but publications and resource materials and education materials about the culture. Who are these folks? You know, I brought folks who had never performed from outside of their country. We call them pygmies. Their real name is the Baka people. And I brought people who had never performed on a stage but you talk about, I had to educate myself about what was an appropriate way to bring these kinds of, you know, they didn't even have a word for art. They didn't have a word for artists. This was their everyday life. And how do you present that on a stage? I own another organization, another theater company from Cote d'Ivoire, I had to bring dirt. They wanted to perform in dirt on the stage. So I had to bring dirt. And then they talked about that they travel with the earth and the dirt because they perform barefoot and this connects them back to the African land they come from when they have to go to other places and perform. So, you know, all that kind of learning experience not just for the audience, but for Baraka Selay, for my production staff, for my usher staff, for my box office staff, for everybody at New Jersey Performing Arts Center, it was always about us learning and impacting not only our audiences and our community, but each other. So when artists were visiting, you created a schedule that they went into churches, community. So you really worked for that. We had a French philosopher, Jean-Luc Nocy, he said, somehow he doesn't like, the theater often, it's a bit like tourism, you know, like ghetto tours, you go in, you go out, you visit a place, but the context is missing. So what did you do specifically that the artist experienced Newark or America? Yes, I'll go back to that group from Mozambique. It was actually the theater and dance company of Mozambique, the national theater and dance company of Mozambique. And so one of the things, and often I ask artists, you know, we think we have to plan and tell artists what to do, that's not it. Ask people, just like I'm saying, ask people how they want to be referenced. It's also about asking artists what they wanna do. And they specifically said, we wanna go to a gospel church. We've heard about black churches in America and we want to go to a church. So indeed, we found a church and not only did they wanna go to a church service, but they wanted to go to a choir rehearsal. And what happened was, the black choir in Newark at this Baptist church taught them a gospel song and they and the folks from Mozambique taught the Mozambicans a traditional African song and then they both performed the songs at a Sunday church service. Oh my God, you talking about a rocking good time. We had a rocking good time. And sometimes that's just important as the learning. Sometimes it's just about, let's not make this all deep and intellectual and philosophical. Sometimes it's just about having a good time. And then afterwards, we all had dinner. We call it in the black church after the service is over. We call it fellowship. Then we had fellowship and we had their food. They brought some of the cooked some of their food and the black people at the church in Newark cooked some of their food. It was a good time. And sometimes it's as simple as that. Yeah. And in a way, an ancient tradition of mankind, to sing for each other, to dance for each other and then you share some food around the fire, you know? So, and that also is connected to that field we are in of performance and it became so highly designed by experts who study, you know, for years and you pay money to have that experience but there is something next to it. And we have to create, I believe very strongly, these forms, what you also, in a way, a pioneer. How did you find the true from Mozambique who has never been on a stage? Well, luckily. What do you say to curators? Do that. And then you're free. And, you know, people tell me this all the time, you know? And again, I'm not saying this, Frank, to brag or boast. I don't present work that I don't see. And so, you know, well, people say, well, you know, well, you worked at New Jersey Performing Arts Center and you have a $20 million budget. I've also worked at organizations, Frank, that had a, you know, staff of two and a half people and that is not an exaggeration. But what, because I'm passionate about what I do, I've always been able to find funders who I'm able to convince or the organization, you know, like when I perform, I mean, when I was the vice president of programming at the Houston International Festival, they encouraged me to get on the road and travel. When I was at a small community-based organization in Brooklyn, which is how all this happened, it's 651 Arts. It was founded by the inimitable Mickey Shepard. Right, in the family. Yeah, some people may know that name. It's still going strong. She started a program called Africa Exchange and she asked Baraka Saleh to be the director, the program director for Africa Exchange. Luckily, Mickey went to the Ford Foundation or maybe the Ford Foundation approached her and we were able to get over a three-year period, $600,000 over a half a million dollars to implement this program. It was not a presentation program. It was only a residency program, allowing artists from the African continent to be in residence with their peers here in the United States. And actually, I'm gonna say to their credit, it was the Ford Foundation that said, you need to go to Mozambique and meet, his name was David Abelio, the founder of this company. And I was like, yes. Absolutely. And so, I think also one of the reasons that Mickey had asked me to be a part of this program that she initiated was because I had traveled on my own as well to the African continent, even before participating in that program. But with that program, I traveled, we forget we have an African diaspora. It isn't just Africans. So, we forget that Brazil has the largest population of people of African descent, not the United States, Brazil. So, yes, I traveled to countries all over because there are people of the African diaspora doing amazing art all over the world, all over the world. And unfortunately, that's usually because they were colonies or plantations. So, I can't help but put that in. The reason we have black people and so many black people in Brazil is because it was a colony, it was a plantation, it was a fourth labor camp. The reason why we have so many black people in Great Britain is because Great Britain went around the world marching and declaring the sun never sets on the British Empire and colonizing people all over the world. The same thing with the French, whether it was Haiti or Morocco or you can name a number of places. And so, we don't wanna talk about racism. We wouldn't have people in all these places, all these multicultural communities, if it hadn't been for that history. Let's talk about that. Okay, I'm not hearing anything. Are we, did I lose, oh, okay. So, we are at one o'clock and I just want to, before we finish, I just wanna read this last thing. This is a quote from one of the... What are your plans? What's happening? What's on your story? I now, as you read, I now work as an independent consultant. And what I love about that is I never know. I never know what's next. And it's one of the most, it's the most, well, I've had some pretty exciting experiences and opportunities in my life. But working as an independent consultant, I never know what's coming. I will tell you this because we're gonna come and knock on your door. Stacey Klein and I are talking about developing what we call armchair conversations that we, that she and I curate and some of them might be just with herself and myself and we want you to host one. How about that? We're putting you on the spot. Well, that is good that you are going ahead and that you also, you know, it's important to share your experience and also your historical perspective of what seems to be very new in a way to so many, but in a way it's a very long, long history of centuries and in revolutions, you know, 100, 150, 200 years, you know, till they find the right form and be in the middle of often upheaval, I do think, so your work is important. Also the curation, what you and you tell artists what to do and what way in what form especially and how to connect to the audience is something that we all can learn from. So, yes, go ahead, tell us your quote. What do you have there? Okay, so this is the last quote and this is because so many going back to what I initially said about so many, it's so hard to have a conversation about race and racism in the arts because, you know, we can't imagine that it might be me. We can't imagine that the person that we look at in the mirror in the morning could possibly be racist. And so this is a quote from one of my spiritual teachers and it's become one of my favorite quotes. Everyone has bias and prejudice. Everyone has likes and dislikes. I don't care if you don't like me or if you don't like black people. The problem comes when you have the power to abuse me, oppress me, publicly lynch me with impunity, without justice or justification. The problem comes when whether or not you like me prevents me from equal housing, education, employment, healthcare, opportunity, that's racism. And that's all. Yeah, that is a very powerful quote. That is actually racism that comes to that. And it is a significant, that is a very, very significant quote. And we all should carry those in us and we all need to including us in our little seal which is now smaller than your smallest organization you have, but you know, this is of real significance. And of real importance. And it is what we have to use this time we are in now. So many people have died also from this COVID moment. It's not the biggest movement on the street, the biggest civil rights movement as one could say just by number. So really this last quote is something which we should all carry with us there. Where did we contribute? Yes, reminder to all your listeners, DC, Black Repertory Theater, Black Theater Matters. Annal on systemic racism in American theater. And maybe we invite them for a follow up conversation. Also as a book of what of interest I think Isabelle Wilkerson, you know, she did cast, she wrote cast at the origin of our discontent where she basically says it's a cast system that has been created in America. It's been implemented. It also explains why white people vote against their own interests, because they perceive themselves of being of a different caste and that it's more significant than she says. This is wrong. It creates what she calls a software discomfort but it's an important book, she's in New York Times, while Joan was just to add it to that long and significant list you have here. So there are really, thank you, thank you for sharing that with us. And also I know it's part of your education effort but still it's also not easy. I can only imagine what it means to talk about this for one year, two, 10 years, 20 or 30 and again and again and as you point out in a field that should be on the right side. And I do think that art has been on the right side on the struggle, the complex struggle for freedom and for free speech and for liberty but we all have to do more. It is not enough and we cannot take ourselves for granted. It's why art is great. It does question us. And as Caracas said, it's good to have conversation that are uncomfortable, not cozy, not everything with that but to really, really also be honest, a radical honesty. And I know you also mentioned, you know, that the radical love exhibition at the Ford Foundation that also seems to be a guiding light. We would love to have Darren Walker on here. Darren Warren on here, he, Darren Walker. Yeah, so one day maybe it will be possible but it is something that is of significance and there is transformation is needed and you are part of it and we all should be part of it in our lives, as you said and not just in our art, so it is authentic. Tomorrow we have Gideon Lester from, great Gideon from the Bard College where he is running the theater program is producing extraordinary work. And there was Tanya Corey from Lebanon from Bay Road, who is a collaborator of his. And Friday we have our own prelude curators, David Prune and Miranda Heimann and they will talk about the prelude festival. We have done this for over 15 years, work from New York artists, New York companies, work in progress and of course it will be online. It's one of the very few festivals and the nation that is going on is before. So there will be, and just a little tell us a little bit about their process. They are still in very much in the middle of America. Again, really, really thank you, thanks Halraum for hosting us. Tia, Vijay and everybody and me from the Segal Center and let's keep the conversation going, as you said Baraka. And so really thank you for taking the time and energy and bringing your- And thank you Frank for hosting these very critical and important conversations. I get asked to do a lot, but this was really important for me and I think the work that you're doing is very important and these conversations, these are the kind of conversations we need to, as I said, need to have more often than not. And I wanna thank you for being brave enough to make them possible at the Segal Center. Thank you, thank you. And again, thanks to you and stay safe. And while listeners hope you stay safe too and stay tuned and you will be able to tune in again.