Commentary

COMMENTARY: On the Queen’s Passing, and the Obama’s Portraits of Democracy

Granted, the Queen had no real “political” power; but as “head of state,” she still had enormous influence in Great Britain and the dozen or so countries in the Commonwealth. It made her a bit of a contradiction. A hood ornament but not the engine of the old British Empire. She was a living museum piece, a reminder of a repulsive imperial past. A colonizer’s deodorizer.

Published

4 years ago

September 17, 2022

Oakland Post

Granted, the Queen had no real “political” power; but as “head of state,” she still had enormous influence in Great Britain and the dozen or so countries in the Commonwealth.

By Emil Guillermo

The same week Queen Elizabeth died at age 96, back in the news for the unveiling of their White House portraits were Barack Obama and Michelle Obama.

BOMO are reminders: Don’t go overboard on the Queen.

In other words, if I say Queen and you say Latifah, or even Beyonce, you’re keeping it real.

Have compassion for Queen Elizabeth II as a human being, sure. But remain repulsed by all that the monarchy stands for.

Tradition? You mean like the hundreds of thousands of Kenyan Kikuyu people imprisoned in the 1950s in what Harvard professor Caroline called the “British Gulag.”

It was so bad that finally in 2013, survivors of the Gulag sued and forced the British to quietly settle with 5,228 survivors. Reparations payments of 3,800 pounds each were for “torture and ill-treatment at the hands of the colonial administration,” according to a Parliament spokesman.

It all happened during the Queen’s watch.

Kenya was just a fraction of the British Empire’s violent past. All of it together, from the Middle East, to Asia, to Africa, subjugated at one time more than 700 million people. It makes the Queen the nostalgic mascot of white supremacy, in a tradition where “I’m royal and you’re not,” means much.

In 1983, I recall covering the Queen when she visited San Francisco. I was not her loyal subject, neither were the 700 Irish protestors outside the St. Francis Hotel. Then as now, I am gratefully reminded how America has no monarchy.

But it can have a president and first lady like Barack Obama and Michelle Obama.

The day the Obamas were back in the White House a Washington Post investigation exposed how a former disgraced president, the one after Obama, had documents containing the top-secret nuclear capabilities of a foreign government, at his Mar-a-Lago civilian home.

On a day like that, we all realized how much we missed “No Drama Obama.”

Barack Obama kept things light so we could remember happier times.

“Thanks for letting us invite a few friends to the White House,” Barack Obama said to Biden at the start. “We will try not to tear up the place.” A burst of laughter put people at ease. But maybe because we all know he couldn’t tear up the place any worse than President 45.

We all know what Obama meant through just a few of his associated acronyms. Health care through ACA (The Affordable Care Act). A life in America for the young, innocent, and undocumented through DACA (Deferred Action on Childhood Arrivals). A home no longer “underwater” due to the bad loans banks made during the recession thanks to HAMP (Home Affordable Modification Program).

But this was a time for art, not policy. Barack Obama’s portrait, a masterful bit of photorealism by Robert McCurdy, captured the first biracial African American from Hawaii ever to be president, as a standout amid a background of white space.

And there was Michelle Obama, in a Sharon Sprung portrait, full of life and color, a first lady like never before.

Both Obamas individually portrayed, artfully, and more truthfully than any literal photo, leaving viewers with plenty of room for imagination, appreciation, and inspiration.

A braided Michelle Obama was humbled to see her canvas. “This big, beautiful painting staring back at me,” she said. “I never could have imagined that any of this would-be part of my story.”

But this is the story of America.

“Too often in this country, people feel like they have to look a certain way or act a certain way to fit in,” Michelle Obama said. “That they have to make a lot of money or come from a certain group, or class or faith in order to matter. But what we’re looking at today, a portrait of a biracial kid with an unusual name, and the daughter of a water pump operator and a stay-at-home mom, what we are seeing is a reminder that there’s a place for everyone in this country.”

That’s the takeaway.

The British can have their impotent figureheads, their kings and queens bloodied by history.

In America, we have the power of democracy.

Emil Guillermo is a journalist and commentator. See him on www.amok.com

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Art

Oakland Director Boots Dazzles Once Again in ‘I Love Boosters’

Riley’s creative output is influenced by progressive ideals. His work, which includes six albums, the 2018 film “Sorry to Bother You,” and the 2023 comedy series “I’m a Virgo,” always shows that the alienation working-class people feel is inevitable under capitalism, he recently told The Guardian.

Published

15 hours ago

June 10, 2026

bpusa-syndication

Naomi Ackie, Taylour Paige, and Keke Palmer star in “I Love Boosters” playing now in theaters. Directed by Oakland resident Boots Riley. Image courtesy of Neon.

“I feel lonely,” Keke Palmer’s character Corvette says in the first few minutes “I Love Boosters,” the new comedy adventure film from Oakland-based director Boots Riley.

“I wish I could feel lonely,” Naomi Ackie’s character Sade responds. “Try having kids.”

“I Love Boosters” teems with kaleidoscopic colors, sharp playful social critique, otherworldly plot twists, and fast-paced action, but it’s grounded in its main characters’ simple and relatable motivations: They want to be less isolated, and more free to pursue their own creative endeavors.

They’d like to design clothes and run a fashion boutique, but, unfortunately, they’re mostly busy surviving. Corvette and Sade, along with Mariah, played by Taylour Page, hustle and scheme through their brilliant scrappy organized crime group, the Velvet Gang. The gang regularly boosts clothes in the Bay Area and sells them at discounted prices.

Riley portrays the gang in a positive light in “I Love Boosters,” echoing the sentiment and title of a song he recorded 20 years ago with his hip-hop band, The Coup, where he praises boosters for providing poor communities with nice clothes they can afford: like a Robin Hood of the ’hood. But while morally righteous, materially, the gang is troubled. Corvette is haunted by unpaid bills and fears getting kicked out of the building where she squats, a shuttered fast-food chicken joint.

One thing that separates Riley’s film from most others about criminal gangs is that the Velvet Gang’s members work for a living. Theirs isn’t a greedy fantasy of becoming filthy rich, or for one last hit: Boosting is a job that still doesn’t pay nearly enough.

Visually, the film is a mix of psychedelia, afro-surrealism, noir, and perhaps a comic book.

The villain, Christie Smith, played by Demi Moore, an evil genius billionaire and fashion designer who runs the expensive clothing company the gang boosts from. She repeatedly appears on the news to put a target on the Velvet Gang members’ backs. When the gang ends up connecting with those who Christie directly exploits –workers here in the Bay Area, but also those in sweatshops overseas– the fight against Christie can commence; and uncoincidentally, Corvette starts to feel less lonely.

I don’t want to say much about that fight, but it’s delightful. Sci-Fi elements (which appear connected to Marxist theory) enter into the narrative to tie what’s become a pretty scatterbrained story together. Grounded by Palmer’s acting, “I Love Boosters” is a total joy and a refreshing break from the typical narratives we see these days. It’s totally over-the-top, but it knows it is.

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Arts and Culture

COMMENTARY: Black Music is the Sound of Black Freedom: Let Us Reclaim Both This Juneteenth

Black Music Month started when Black Music Association members Ed Wright, Kenny Gamble and his wife, journalist and radio host Dyanna Williams were able to persuade President Jimmy Carter to establish the observation on June 7, 1979.

Published

2 days ago

June 9, 2026

Oakland Post

Robert Johnson (1911-1938) is thought of as the godfather of blues music, especially Delta blues. The 29 songs recorded by him during his short life have been of massive inspiration to guitarists and musicians over the last 80 years. Public domain photo.

By Wanda Ravernell

Black Music Month and Juneteenth are inextricably linked – Black music is the sound of our freedom.

From the plaintive moans of the enslaved Africans’ ‘sorrow songs,’ to the fields of Civil War battle where Black soldiers picked up abandoned bugles, to the upright piano played in juke joints on Saturday night and churches come Sunday morning, our ancestors’ innovation in the face of want, fear, degradation, and hopelessness has yielded genres of music imitated ’round the world.

In 2000, Congress made it official. In 2009, Pres. Barack Obama changed the name to African American Music Heritage Month and in 2023, Pres. Joe Biden changed it back to Black Music Month, two years after he declared Juneteenth a national holiday, the result of a movement led by Opal Lee.

Our ancestors battle for freedom over these last 400 years and the music that allowed them expression of their humanity deserved to be honored.

But we may be losing sight of the value of their sacrifices.

‘Sing a Song Full of the Faith That the Dark past Has Taught Us…’

Along with the long-known exploitation of Black musicians whose recordings were stolen by record companies, the commercialization of Juneteenth feels like another kind of theft.

I had never heard of Juneteenth until I moved to the Bay Area from my hometown of Philadelphia. I didn’t know it was one of many freedom festivals celebrated by descendants of enslaved people in the United States.

Emancipation Day was Jan. 1 in Pennsylvania, April 16 in Wash., D.C., May 20 in Florida, and Aug. 8 in Kentucky. But Juneteenth, June 19, has the most renown, known in Texas as the ‘colored peoples’ Fourth of July.’

It was marked by parades, beauty pageants, rodeos, backyard barbecues and church picnics.

Yes, church.

The formerly enslaved began the day praying in thanks for their freedom just as they had prayed for Jubilee – the day of freedom – when they had chains on their feet and hands. They ‘testified’ about their past suffering and how they had managed to overcome.

And they sang.

Although, we will not hold it this year, Omnira Institute’s Juneteenth Ritual of Remembrance recalled this part of Juneteenth with prayers in the languages of the African captives. In the middle of the ceremony, a soloist would lead us in singing “Many Thousand Gone” while we took turns reciting portions of the Emancipation Proclamation, the news of freedom that took more than two years to reach Texas – two months after the Civil War ended.

“Many Thousand Gone” was famously recorded by Black luminary Paul Robeson in 1947:

“No more auction block for me,

No more, no more

No more auction black for me

Many thousand gone.”

Other verses refer to the ‘pint of salt’ and the ‘driver’s lash,’ the realities of enslavement that they had survived.

‘Sing a Song Full of the Hope That the Present has Brought Us’

All of the genres of African American music have at their root songs like that, the essence being, as Stevie Wonder, wrote, “the joy inside our pain.” So Black music is not just music. It is our story, our history, our very strength.

During the Civil Rights Movement, which peaked 100 years after slavery ended, the people testified that it was the freedom songs – based on spirituals – that gave them the heart to march, face attack dogs, fire hoses, beatings, and shootouts with vigilantes.

The music reminded them that power was in the people. That music, our music, can do so again. We don’t have to accept the commodification of the products of our culture.

The power of those songs is showing a resurgence across the South as we battle again for the right to self-determination through the ballot box.

Those songs are the voices of our ancestors, voices forged in their blood, their sweat, their tears, joy and, above all, faith. Those songs, those prayers live in our blood and our very breath.

This Juneteenth, let us reclaim those holy voices expressed in Black music for ourselves. It is our birthright. It can neither be bought nor sold. No more. Never again.

Wanda Ravernell is the executive director of Omnira Institute, sponsor for 18 years of the Juneteenth Ritual of Remembrance and Oakland’s 11^th Annual Black-Eyed Pea Festival, which will take place on Sept. 12.