- Chicago, Home of Great Music and Newspapers (July 17, 2026)
There I was in the spotlight, alongside my daughter, Sonia, playing Blues harmonicas onstage in front of a lively crowd. Was this some sort of a surreal dream? It certainly felt like one in the moment. But this was, in fact, an actual event that occurred on a Friday morning earlier this month.
It all began with a Chicago Sun-Times article by Neil Steinberg that I read about a Blues Camp for children at Columbia College. I thought surely that this was some sort of misprint. Why were children learning about the Blues, and why would the music be of interest to them? After reading the column, I contacted Neil, who assured me that what he wrote was indeed not a work of fiction. Fernando Jones, whom Sonia recently met by coincidence on her morning walks, had created the international music program, Blues Camp, in 1989, and it has since grown into a recognized nonprofit.
This realization immediately brought me back to the days of my youth. My love for the Blues began in Grade School. None of my friends could understand why I would want to listen to people they had never heard of like Muddy Waters, Albert King and Howlin’ Wolf. My curiosity had now peaked regarding what sort of kids would attend a camp devoted to Blues music. Thankfully, Sonia is always up for an adventure like I am, so I asked her to join me for the Blues Kids Foundation’s camp recital at Columbia. What we found there entertained and delighted us.
The stated mission of Fernando’s nonprofit is to preserve, perform and promote Blues among America’s youth, educators, parents and community members. The organization operated as a free Blues Camp for children around the world, focusing on providing cultural, social and emotional enrichment activities for its young participants. Though not all of the budding musicians we saw at Columbia are destined to be breakout performers, we enjoyed how their participation in an ensemble taught them to collaborate and cooperate with each other. It also helped them to be less self-conscious when performing in front of others. There were at least a couple standouts, particularly a ten-year-old bass guitar player named Ricky, whose mannerisms were that of an older Blues man.
Sonia Evans and Chaz Ebert (on left) playing Blues harmonicas onstage.
Watching remarkable kids like Ricky caused me to reflect on Chicago’s profoundly rich history of music. We are home to such greats as the Father of Gospel, Thomas Dorsey; the Queen of Gospel, Albertina Walker; Mother Willie Mae Ford; Mavis Staples and the Staple Singers; the Edwin Hawkin Singers; Tammy McCann; and the glorious Mahalia Jackson. We also have Blues greats and other musicians who either were from Chicago or became famous here, from Buddy Guy, Quincy Jones, Earth, Wind and Fire, the Chi-Lites, Herbie Hancock, Nat King Cole, Lou Rawls and Bo Diddley to Esther Phillips, Dinah Washington, Sarah Vaughan, Jennifer Hudson, Etta James and Chaka Khan, to name a few.
House Music was invented here in Chicago by the late Frankie Knuckles, among others, and thousands flocked to Jackson Park on July 11th for the annual Chosen Few Picnic & Festival honoring him and the other visionaries behind that genre. More recently, Chicago was home to Rappers and Hip-Hop artists like Common, Chance the Rapper, Ye (formerly Kanye West) and Da Brat. What a rich tapestry.
Albertina Walker will be honored posthumously by Calvin Bridges next month on her birthday. Calvin was my classmate at John M. Smyth Elementary School, and recently performed at the inaugural FECK Awards in April. However, his fame extends internationally, where he has been all over the world spreading the Gospel message. He will be joined by singer Sasha Daltonn for Albertina’s birthday celebration. An even bigger event is being planned in Walker’s honor for next year.
I also feel overcome with immense gratitude for the newspaper article in Roger’s beloved Chicago Sun-Times that had informed me about this amazing camp. Though today’s newspapers are not what they used to be, I do believe that they are still an important and necessary part of our lives, especially when they prioritize local reporting. The Chicago Tribune’s Robert “Colonel” McCormick and the Sun-Times’ Marshall Field III should be commended for establishing Chicago as a leading newspaper town. Though most print media has melted away in recent years, keeping up to date on the daily news cycle is more vital than ever. I doubt the Smashing Pumpkins’ Billy Corgan would’ve had one of the most successful engagements in the history of Chicago’s Lyric Opera with his sold-out show, A Night of Mellon Collie and Infinite Sadness, had it not received ample coverage from the city’s papers.
All of these thoughts were running through my mind as Sonia and I were invited to join a jovial 94-year-old woman from the audience onstage to be taught how to play the blues at the camp recital. It was as surreal a moment for me as any in recent memory, not to mention indicative of how you’re never too young or too old to learn a new skill.
For more information on Fernando’s Blues camp, visit his organization’s official site.
https://www.blueskids.com
- “The Map of Longing” Offers Real Catharsis Despite Its Teen Melancholy (July 17, 2026)
Fans of the book by Alice Kellen probably already know–Netflix’s “The Map of Longing” is more “The Fault in Our Stars” than “Bridgerton.” Yes, the Spanish series is adapted from an adult romance, but it brings a certain teenage melancholy, even as its characters are ostensibly in their 20s. So expect more earnest coming of age (think the driver’s test) and less randy fun (the sex is pretty tame, even if we do see more flesh than U.S. audiences are accustomed to).
The premise goes something like this: Greta Álvarez (a charming Alícia Falcó) believes she was born with a purpose–to save her immunocompromised sister Lucy (Georgina Amorós). But it doesn’t work, and Lucy dies in her early twenties, leaving behind a grieving family who has to figure out what life is like when the departed sister’s illness is no longer organizing their days.
The show opens after all the business of dying is done, with Greta, her mother (Laia Marull), and her father (Mario de la Rosa) stuck in their grief as they’re supposed to be carrying on. Then a handsome stranger arrives–Will Tucker (a brooding Pablo Álvarez)–with a game from beyond the grave, containing a series of challenges that Lucy created to help her family process their loss, and hopefully, live loudly and bravely.
It is maudlin and overwrought. This is a series filled with golden light and twee settings from Will’s cozy trailer to the hip but quiet bar where he works. But it also has quite a lot to say about the contours of grief. It’s hard not to shed real tears as Greta processes hers–the finality of her loss and the way it ricochets out across her life feels both real and too much to bear. And the setting reflects this: her home is a mess, where unwashed dishes and discarded tissues rule. She has to leave to find some light, but she also has to return to address her sadness at its roots.
The series is smart in portraying the family’s different responses as all valid. Her mother watches TV all day in a trance, deep in depression. Her father goes to work and seems to be functioning, even as he’s clearly avoiding his family and emotions. Greta, meanwhile, sets out to process her loss through Lucy’s game. She’s initially reluctant to accept her sister’s help, talk with Will, or participate in therapy. But she trusts her sister and slowly progresses to a better emotional relationship with her loss, thanks to the strength of their bond.
Sadly, “The Map of Longing” has neither insight nor curiosity in the male condition. Will appears as a handsome, mysterious stranger, and that’s the character at its most dynamic. In the second act, he shares his mysterious past, but the reveal makes no sense, turning him from a private person to an impossible fantasy. The show argues that there are “two Wills” and a brush with tragedy changed him–but the transition is too severe to believe. And the six-part series only gives a passing phrase as a way of explanation for how Will, who seems so gentlemanly and sensitive, could ever have been so callous in his past. The audience is simply to believe the delusion that his interactions with the Álvarez sisters could change his very being–from the way he stands to what he values–with their love and acceptance.
It’s pure fantasy, and an immature one at that. The first episode leans into this adolescent approach, making Greta the plucky heroine of too many Disney films, the one who talks too much, doesn’t know her own limitations, but somehow solves her problems with doe-eyed resourcefulness. Thankfully, in the second hour, “The Map of Longing” already starts to move away from that characterization, letting Greta feel and question in ways that match her situation and not the dream of it.
Falcó does a strong job here, even as she’s stuck with a series of strange costume choices like bad bangs for both her past and her future self. She gamely takes on her character’s plucky disposition, finding depth as her writing gets better, and showing a slow transition in fits and starts as Greta heals. She also has excellent chemistry with Álvarez, who is more likely to overplay his hand and is unable to coalesce his fractured character into a recognizable human being.
Still, it’s hard not to root for this young woman to get everything she desires—including the handsome Will, who, within this universe, certainly won’t harm her. It’s party how Falcó lights up from within as she starts to make progress, finally allowing herself to make choices for herself after twenty-plus years of existing for her beloved sister. It’s also the relatability of grief, how terribly universal it is, even if we each respond differently. Greta’s mourning is not overly sentimental or trite. It is lived in.
And so while her journey may feel too pat at times, there’s real catharsis here in seeing her earn her happiness. May we all be so lucky.
Whole series screened for review. Now on Netflix.
- Flashback: Chaz Ebert on Watching a Christopher Nolan Movie During the Pandemic (July 16, 2026)
In anticipation of the upcoming opening of Christopher Nolan’s “The Odyssey,” let’s take a look back at my article about watching the director’s acclaimed 2010 film, “Inception,” during the COVID-19 pandemic, originally published on August 18, 2020…
NOTE: Elliot Page’s name has been updated to reflect his transition since this original posting.
Perhaps Richard Roeper planted an inception (the idea that movie theaters are still the best way to see a film even during the pandemic) in my head a few weeks ago when he wrote about going to see a film at the Music Box Theatre in Chicago. I was agog when I read it. He actually went to the theater even though there are no proven vaccines or readily available treatments for the coronavirus! At that point, I was still too traumatized by the thought of catching COVID-19 and ending up on a ventilator to even think of stepping outside of my bubble to attend a public movie with other audience members. What kind of hygienic steps were they taking? Did they disinfect the seats and restrooms? Were they testing their employees or at least taking their temperatures and making them wear gloves? Were they using sanitizers? Would everyone, including me, have to wear masks the whole time? And more importantly, what kind of steps were they taking to make sure there was no recirculated “CORONA” air wafting throughout the theater?
I could see my way clear to attending one of the drive-in theaters newly mushrooming across the country after reading Matt Fagerholm’s article. At least you stay in your own car and breathe free-flowing outside air and can even take your own goodies if you are too timid to approach the concession stand. But something was compelling about Richard’s article. He had a good time at the movies, watching it with others, and said he would go back as long as they continued to limit the number of attendees. Yet, at that time, I concluded that it would probably be months or even next year before I set foot in a theater again. So it was with utter amazement that I found myself last Friday afternoon in mid-August, sitting in the Music Box Theatre watching Christopher Nolan’s film “Inception.” And I have to admit it was a pretty awesome experience, and I had definitely found my happy place for the day.
From the time I devoured Richard’s article, the small idea he planted in my brain grew. Much like the idea Leonardo DiCaprio had to plant in the brain of the scion of an industrialist in “Inception,” which was celebrating its tenth anniversary with a live 70mm showing. The idea of going to a movie theater was buffeted by our site’s managing editor, Brian Tallerico, even though Brian concluded he would watch it at home rather than take a chance on becoming anxious with every sniffle and sneeze if he went to the theater. Brian exclaimed, “The reason it’s easy to get carried away by ‘Inception’ is simple: it’s one of the most propulsive major blockbusters in history.” (emphasis mine).
I laced up my sneakers and headed out! That is, after going online to purchase a ticket for the 1 pm showing. I didn’t want to take a chance on going later when the theater was sure to be more crowded. Although Brian’s description of Nolan’s ten-year-old film made me want to see it again, it was his statement about the theater reconfiguring their ventilation system so it doesn’t recycle air and only pushes in fresh air from outside that convinced me it was safe enough to venture out. I took a deep breath for courage and set out on my first movie outing since March.
There is something special about watching a Christopher Nolan film. From “Memento” to “Interstellar“, or the ‘Dark Knight” Batman movies and even “The Prestige”, Nolan’s movies draw me in. Whether or not you think his films are ultimately great or merely good, I appreciate the fact that they make me think and give me a worthwhile cinematic experience. Their complexity lets you know that the filmmaker is thinking about the storyline; sometimes it seems as if he is overthinking it, but I’d rather have that than one haphazardly thrown together.
And this time, another payoff for going to the theater was the treat of seeing footage from the making of “Tenet.” If the film is even half as exciting as the footage shot in several countries around the world, it will be a blockbuster. I don’t like making predictions like that based on what is essentially a trailer, but maybe I fell under the spell of being back in an actual movie theater. Or maybe it was listening to John David Washington, sounding like his father, Denzel. Or hearing Nolan talking about why he takes time to so meticulously set up the scenes so he can use as little CGI as possible since certain computer-generated special effects don’t age well. Whatever the reason, I felt as if it was setting me up for another inception idea: returning to the theater when “Tenet” opens. But I don’t want to get ahead of myself.
My first viewing of “Inception” ten years ago was not wholly satisfactory, even though Roger awarded it four stars. I wanted to love it as much as he did, but I could not. “Inception” is about a corporate raider (played by Leonardo DiCaprio) who uses a combination of architecture and psychology to extract secrets hidden deep inside the recesses of one’s brain. Hold on a minute, you may say. Yes, I know, not your ordinary plot. But Nolan is no ordinary director. In the film, this method, known as extraction, is apparently used more often than we think in both political and industrial espionage because none of the other characters seemed too surprised to be invited to participate in an extraction, which takes place during someone’s dream. Oh, and you can take five or six other people with you into the dream to perform it.
But that’s not all. The other thing a skilled psychological architect can do is plant, rather than extract, the idea or meme in one’s head in the first place. And this is where Nolan is a master. An inception isn’t supposed to be easy, and for that reason, almost no one attempts it according to the plot line. In fact, the film espouses rules of engagement that sound as if they are from a manual for a hypnotist or a psychiatrist. For instance, the idea has to be one that the subject thinks is his from the beginning, not one that was forced on him by another. Also, once you’re in the dream state, you can’t encounter anything so out of the ordinary that it takes you out of the logical or even illogical construct of that particular dreamworld, or it could defeat the extraction or the inception. That makes sense to me. We all have had dreams where, at some point, we realized we were dreaming, and so we began to perceive the world in that dream differently. Your mind either wakes up a bit or you can force it to a deeper level.
Ten years ago, I expressed impatience about why the corporate raider needed an architectural student to help with the inception. Roger’s explanation did assuage my impatience. He asked, “Is it a coincidence that Ariadne (Elliot Page) is named for the woman in Greek mythology who helped Theseus escape from the Minotaur’s labyrinth?” And I was willing to accept Roger’s assertion that “…the movies often seem to come from the recycling bin…Sequels, remakes, franchises. ‘Inception’ does a difficult thing. It is wholly original, cut from new cloth, and yet structured with action movie basics so it feels like it makes more sense than (quite possibly) it does.”
So I just watched and accepted it on the cerebral level of the dreams and dismissed the action parts of it. Back then, I wasn’t aware of the plot of going into dreams presented in “Paprika,” the anime by Satoshi Kon based on the novel by Yasutake Tsutsui. Roger concluded that when Nolan left the labyrinth, he threw away the map. And back then, that was enough for me.
A quick review of some of my growing-up experiences may help you understand why I focused on the film’s dreamy aspects the first time around. I grew up in a house with a mother who was a Minister in the Spiritualist Church. Mother was called a prophet, a seer, a psychic, and more. She never used her “gifts” in a commercial manner, but we, all of her children, knew there was something different about our Mom. She was highly intuitive and perceptive. But she was also the most loving, nurturing creature we knew. We said that when she walked into a room, she brought the sunshine with her. So all the woo-woo stuff was just part of the whole package that we loved and accepted.
When my sister Adele and I played school, we held one class where you had to go to different rooms. One person was tasked with drawing shapes or objects, and the person in the other room had to receive the impressions telepathically or by remote viewing and reproduce them on a piece of paper. Back then, we thought that was normal; didn’t every school child do this? Of course, we found out the answer was no. The other thing we were encouraged to do was talk about our dreams so that we could learn how to distinguish the prophetic ones that would come true from the ordinary dreams that were just images from our subconscious rearranging themselves in our brain.
We were taught about lucid dreaming, where you could go in and tell yourself you were dreaming, then reconstruct events or change the dream to achieve the outcome you desired. If you were plagued by a recurring nightmare where a lion was chasing you, for example, you could give yourself a signal to stop and face the lion and tell it you are not afraid, and it is only a dream, and that you want it to stop chasing you forever. That lion may even become an ally in future dreams. But that particular nightmare will stop. Or if you have human adversaries with whom you cannot find an accommodation, you can face them and order a truce. They too may become an ally, right then and there.
On rare occasions, once you realize you are in a dream, you can surrender and coax yourself deeper into the dream. From that point, however, you must trust whatever may come afterward. One doesn’t always have full control during lucid dreaming. But you learn to give yourself a clue to help you. You can tell yourself to look at your arm. Is it solid? Can you pinch it? Or you can look for a mirror to see if you can see your own reflection or another’s. Or you can put your arms up in the air and just take off flying. Lucid dreaming can get really wild!
You learn that time is so fluid in a dream that five or ten minutes can seem like a whole day of activities. So watching some of the characters age in “Inception” felt so real. In fact, I had a dream where I lived for years with children who lived on another planet and thought they were bred in test tubes. I think I was some sort of scientist who watched them grow up. Although I didn’t initiate the experiment with these children, I sat in classrooms watching them being taught by others. They were very bright. I observed them on playgrounds, smiling as they developed first crushes or learned how to negotiate behavior with others.
Somehow, I heard or read their thoughts and knew their belief systems. And so one day, when a quantum flying structure was built that could safely take them to an older planet, they were surprised to learn that they were actually from Earth and that they had parents and relatives down there. I went to Earth with these children and watched them, as teenagers, discover their natural families and learn for the first time that there were other people who looked and laughed and thought like them. On the outer-galactic planet, they were taught to value those most opposite to themselves.
I can still recall the welcome one of the male students received after going to an African country and being overwhelmed by the number of Africans he saw, and the female student who went to China and was similarly overwhelmed when her mother hugged her for the first time. Turns out these students had all been sacrificed by their parents for this experiment, for what they thought would be the good of mankind. At one point, we had a reunion of the students and the people on Earth, and they were asked to sit with social scientists to teach Earthlings how to develop this unconditional compassion and acceptance of others. This was a superpower they developed while living on the other planet.
We traveled all over the globe for these debriefing sessions in the dream. How did I get to each continent with these students? I don’t remember. How did I even get into this dream? I don’t remember. How long was I asleep to be able to observe these children growing from infants to teens? Perhaps a half hour total. I just remember letting myself go and trusting that the dream would take me somewhere safe. Somehow, I knew part of what was happening to me was a dream, but other parts were so real that I felt like I had lived for years. I was experiencing a dream within a dream. So lucid dreaming is something I was interested in, and seeing it play out in Nolan’s movie ten years ago excited me then and still excites me.
Photo Credit: The Music Box Theatre in Chicago.
Nevertheless, ten years ago, I didn’t know why Nolan had to take the characters into three deep stages of dreams and even hook up so many other dreamers to invade the dream. That made it too confusing about whose dream we were watching and why odd elements kept turning up. I also didn’t like it when he turned away from the dreamy aspects and had the characters break out fighting, or skiing down mountains in Switzerland like 007 characters on a busman’s holiday. Last Friday, however, after not having been to a movie theater for almost five months, I sat and watched the film with infinite patience. And lo and behold, I understood why Nolan did what he did, and I loved it. It made sense. And whether it did or not, it was damned enjoyable.
This time I didn’t question whether the totem, the object DiCaprio and his wife Mal (Marion Cotillard) twirled to let them know they were dreaming, or in whose dream they were visiting, would keep twirling at the end or wobble and fall. It didn’t make a difference to me. I was just appreciating the layers of Nolan’s film, even the fight scenes, the guns, the snow, and the matching white snowsuits. As Jodorowsky would say, it was a feast for the eyes. I was fully immersed in the world of “Inception” while I was in the theater. Even the preparatory experience of walking into the theater and seeing the ticket takers wearing gloves and having an usher help me find a seat by checking the carefully laid out spaces on her clipboard was comforting. It assured that I would be far enough away from other patrons so that if they took off their masks to eat popcorn, I wouldn’t be affected. It helped put me in a dream state where I can’t recall each specific element of that process, but I can recall the feeling of safety.
There are times today in 2020 when we may question whether this pandemic world is a dream from which we will awaken. Or whether we are caught in the loop of some giant’s dream from another planet, until we go to level two or even level three and find some totem to help us escape. All I know is that it has been a few days since I was at the movies, and so far I have not had a sniffle or a sneeze or a sore throat or any symptoms that made me regret my foray to the Music Box. And as much as I loved the preview of “Tenet,” I can’t promise that I will be back at the Music Box to watch it. Not unless my dream world, where we are inoculated against COVID-19 with much stronger antibodies, comes true. Now that is a dream I want to wake up to.
- Black Protagonists Are Transforming Modern Horror Television for the Better (July 16, 2026)
In the 2020s, horror television has become a genre led and shaped by Black men. While the genre was overwhelmingly white in the 2000s and 2010s, with shows like “Supernatural” and “The Walking Dead” dominating the cultural sphere, the 2020s have given Black actors the space to lead this ever-expanding genre into a new era. Modern horror television is finally allowing its Black male leads to explore the harsh realities of being Black in these respective universes, while allowing the actors who inhabit them to command the screen as inherently flawed heroes, vigilantes, and villains.
AMC’s “Interview with the Vampire” debuted in 2022, introducing viewers to a new take on Anne Rice’s bloodsucker: Louis De Pointe Du Lac (Jacob Anderson) was transformed from a white slave owner into a multifaceted Black brothel owner. Creator Rolin Jones transformed the character into a richer version of the stagnant protagonist, with Louis now commanding the screen and forcing the reformation of this new narrative, rather than having it simply move around him. Tethered to humanity not simply because of his aversion to consuming human blood, Louis’ position as a Black man in 1910s New Orleans conflicts with his newfound life as a powerful creature of the night.
Recently revamped as “The Vampire Lestat,” now taking place in the present day, the series continues to force Louis to confront the realities of his existence, and Anderson delivers a career-defining performance as a broken man haunted by his past, present, and future. Since the show’s inception, Louis’ race has forged an intrinsic bond between him and his Black pseudo-daughter, Claudia (Bailey Bass, Delainey Hayles), whose murder in season two propels him on a journey of reconciliation and revenge in the present day. Like all vampires in the series, Louis’ monstrosity is never shied away from; instead, it flourishes beneath his veins as an inherent aspect of who he is. The adaptation continues to make Louis’ Blackness an integral part of not only who he was as a human but as a vampire unable to escape his past and the shackles the world still desires to entrap him in decades after his turning.
Like “The Vampire Lestat,” instead of trivializing the racism rooted in the foundations of its source material, HBO’s “It: Welcome to Derry” is the first adaptation of Stephen King’s famed novel to directly explore how the Black characters in Derry, Maine, would survive its supernatural and historical horrors. The racism that the Black characters face may be a lot to stomach, but with this brashness, creators Andy and Barbara Muschietti force their viewers to confront the realities of living in a town haunted by a creature who uses the fear and hatred of its inhabitants to wreak havoc. This doesn’t mean the show’s Black characters are perfect; instead, they are flawed products of their circumstances.
Both Leroy Hanlon (Jovan Adepo) and Dick Halloran (Chris Chalk) are imperfect men, and the writing never shies away from their imperfections. As a father and husband, Leroy neglects his family’s concerns for his military job. When he finally abandons his post, it’s not for the greater good, but because the people he loves have been directly impacted by Pennywise’s (Bill Skarsgård) reign of terror. Also a military man, Halloran uses the gift of the Shining to torture Derry’s civilians for information. Like Leroy, he becomes involved in destroying Pennywise only after the entity’s presence threatens to destroy everything around him. The series never absolves either man of their sins, allowing both of them to become multifaceted portrayals of Blackness whose position during the civil rights movement is ever-changing.
“Interview with the Vampire” and “It: Welcome to Derry” boldly heighten their horror by acknowledging that racial tension was a constant, unavoidable aspect of American life in the time periods in which they’re set. While both shows are fantastic vehicles for exploring Blackness in America through genre storytelling, there are other offerings that prove that horror television is as multifaceted as the Black characters who now reign supreme in the genre. Sometimes, it is enough to simply have Black characters exist in horror media without their race shaping their presence, and that’s what FX’s “Alien: Earth” and MGM’s “From” have been doing since their respective debuts.
While the former is chock-full of scene-stealing characters, there is nobody like Kumi Morrow (Babu Ceesay). Originally the security officer on the USCSS Maginot, Morrow is tasked with recovering the Xenomorph cargo that escaped from the ship when it crashed into New Siam, and spends the rest of the series proving himself to be one of the most fascinating anti-villains put to television. As he lurks through dimly lit hallways and manipulates childlike hybrids, Ceesay’s prowess chips away at Morrow’s seemingly impenetrable edges, slowly unearthing a fragile and complicated man whose best interests are always his own.
Instead of his self-interest being degraded by the show’s narrative, creator Noah Hawley allows Morrow to bask in his selfishness, often admitted in the middle of interrogations, where it becomes clear that he’s one step ahead of his opponents and the audience. As one of the few Black characters in the series, Morrow’s Blackness is neither addressed nor relevant to his position in this world. Yet, his Blackness is inherently important to the television landscape he and the series exist in, where Black characters are seldom given the space to be as captivating and as complicated as he is.
Unlike Morrow, Boyd (Harold Perrineau), the protagonist of MGM+’s “From,” is initially positioned as the series’ heroic figure. The de facto mayor of a mysterious town that traps everyone who enters, Boyd was also a military man. The series uses his previous occupation to show how Boyd’s time in the military influences his choices, which, as the series unfolds, quickly spiral from being seen as morally correct to being questioned by everyone around him. As the series has become more complex, so has its protagonist.
As tragedies mount in his life, Boyd’s motivations begin to sway from being about the greater good. The narrative never seeks to absolve him of his fallibility, forcing him to sit with the consequences of his own actions and become a shattered version of the man he once was. Boyd’s decisions, no matter how ludicrous they are, shape the series’ narrative rather than simply having the plot take place around him.
Each of these series has offered the actors who helm them their most versatile work to date, flourishing in a media landscape that often chews Black characters up before spitting them out. As these Black protagonists become more common within the genre, so does the longevity of their legacy, not only within the sphere of their respective shows, but off-screen as well. With the 2020s, television has become a medium where Black actors take center stage, transforming the foundations of a genre that, in the past, had seen them not only as disposable but nearly obsolete.
- Celebrating the Life of George E. Johnson, Sr. (1927-2026), a Friend and Builder of Black Possibility (July 15, 2026)
Some lives become so woven into the fabric of our culture that we experience their influence long before we ever learn their name. For generations of Black Americans, George E. Johnson, Sr., was one of those people. I am one of the privileged many to have called him a friend. Founder of the Johnson Products Company with his late wife Joan, and one of the great architects of Black enterprise in America, George passed away on July 6th at the age of 99. His passing marks the end of an extraordinary life, but his legacy reaches far beyond the shelves where Afro Sheen and Ultra Sheen once stood. It lives in the confidence of generations of Black entrepreneurs, in the celebration of Black beauty, and in the cultural institutions that flourished because he believed they deserved to exist.
I look forward to celebrating George’s legacy with his loved ones and friends this week. The visitation for him will be held from 4pm to 8pm on Thursday, July 16th, at Leak and Sons Funeral Home, 7838 S. Cottage Grove Ave., followed the next day by his funeral at 11am at Trinity United Church of Christ, 400 W. 95th Street. The funeral service will be livestreamed at trinitychicago.org. In lieu of flowers, the family asks that donations be made to Chicago State University (http://www.csu.edu/) and/or The HistoryMakers (http://www.historymakers.org).
Chaz with Madeline Murphy Rabb and George E. Johnson, Sr., at the Palm Springs International Film Festival.
Even though we will be attending a Memorial Service, my memories of Mr. Johnson through the years, are of how lively, gentlemanly and sharp he was about business, human relationships and life itself! That includes earlier this year where we hosted him and his wife Madeline at the Palm Springs International Film Festival Gala in California. He was so pleased that he had finally published his memoir a year earlier (at age 97!). He said that the Lord whispered to him that it was time to tell his story. He connected with the writer Hilary Beard and the result was the entertaining book: Afro Sheen: How I Revolutionized an Industry with the Golden Rule, from Soul Train to Wall Street.
His book is an inspiration and a blueprint for making your dreams come true by having faith in yourself, in Black entrepreneurship and he emphasizes, by following the Golden Rule. It was his firm belief that we should treat others as we want to be treated. I sensed that his pleasure in telling his story was not to bring glory or attention to himself, but to encourage others to follow their dreams. And indeed, at the stops along his book tour that I attended, I noted that among the attendees were a good many successful men and women who attributed their success to encouragement (and seed money) from him.
It’s worth noting that several successful Black families in Chicago had the last name of Johnson, which at one time caused some confusion. There were the Ebony/Jet magazine publishers John and Eunice Johnson, and leading Cadillac dealer Al Johnson, among others. Yet George’s near-century of achievements will stand as a singular beacon of inspiration for generations to come.
George at his company on the South Side. Photo by Chicago Sun-Times via AP.
Born on June 16th, 1927, in Richton, Mississippi, George entered a world where opportunity for Black Americans was deliberately limited. When he was just two years old, his family joined the Great Migration, settling in Chicago in search of the promise that so many Black families hoped the North might offer. George learned the value of work early. He shined shoes as a boy and held whatever jobs he could find to help support his family. Financial realities forced him to leave high school before graduating, but they never diminished his curiosity or his ambition. Instead, they sharpened his instincts. He learned to recognize problems, to listen carefully, and to see opportunities where others saw none. And at his death, he had been awarded almost 10 honorary doctorate degrees from various universities.
After gaining experience working for the legendary entrepreneur Samuel B. Fuller, George struck out on his own. In 1954, he and his wife, Joan Henderson—whom he had met in high school—founded Johnson Products Company with $500. Part of that amount was a $250 loan that a bank gave him to “take his wife on a vacation.” (He had been turned down for a loan in that amount to start a business.)
It has all the ingredients of a classic American success story, but what made George remarkable was not simply that he started with very little. It was that he recognized an entire community whose needs had been overlooked. For years, Black consumers had largely been ignored by major manufacturers. Products formulated specifically for Black hair were limited, and advertising rarely reflected Black beauty with dignity or pride. George understood that serving this market meant more than selling shampoo or hair relaxers. It meant telling millions of people that they mattered.
His products—including Ultra Wave, Ultra Sheen, Afro Sheen, and later Classy Curl—addressed practical needs, but they also arrived at a pivotal cultural moment. As the Black Is Beautiful movement encouraged African Americans to embrace their natural features and reject decades of imposed standards, Johnson Products became part of a larger affirmation of identity. His advertisements didn’t ask Black Americans to aspire to someone else’s definition of beauty. George’s business grew into one of the most successful Black-owned companies in America, eventually dominating the Black hair care market. In 1971, it became the first Black-owned company listed on the American Stock Exchange. This resonated as far more than a financial achievement. For many Black Americans, it was proof that Black ownership could thrive on a national stage, that excellence and ambition were not exceptions but expectations, and that businesses rooted in serving Black communities could become institutions.
George’s influence extended far beyond commerce long before corporate America recognized the value of investing in Black audiences. Johnson Products became the first national sponsor of “Soul Train,” helping transform what began as a local Chicago television program into one of the most influential cultural platforms in American history. Through music, dance, fashion, and joy, “Soul Train” introduced millions of viewers to Black artists and Black creativity on their own terms. He believed economic opportunity was inseparable from civil rights. While marches and legislation transformed America in visible ways, George understood that ownership, employment, access to capital, and economic independence were also instruments of freedom. Having experienced discrimination in securing financing himself, he later helped establish Independence Bank of Chicago, creating opportunities for Black families and entrepreneurs who had too often found traditional financial institutions unwilling to invest in their futures.
If there is a thread running through George’s remarkable life, it is that he consistently opened doors he had once been forced to knock on himself. He built products that affirmed identity. He created a company that created opportunity. He invested in culture before others recognized its value. And he built institutions that would continue serving communities long after he stepped away.
On a personal note, I had the great fortune of knowing not only George but all three of his wives (the middle of which has been left out of most tributes I’ve read). All three wives were smart, beautiful and accomplished. But it was Joan with whom George started their business and with whom he had four beautiful children: Eric, Joan, John and George E. Johnson, Jr. Joan was admired in the Black community. We shared confidences at the hair salon where we both were clients of the late Emory Jones.
Joan and George divorced after nearly four decades of marriage. But like a story from a fairytale, they later remarried in 1995, and remained so until her passing in 2019. Before they got back together, however, George was married briefly to Renée Derem, the founder of Chicago’s Sister-City relationship in Paris. I fondly recall spending time with the couple in both cities. Then in 2022, George married his third wife, my longtime friend, the very accomplished Madeline Murphy Rabb. Madeline is an artist, designer, and veteran art advisor who once served as the Executive Director of the Chicago Office of Fine Arts. In addition to being an artist and curator, she is a Silver and Bronze Medalist in the National Senior Games. I remember George being greatly impressed by Madeline’s beauty and athleticism, which she demonstrated through her competitive swimming captured in Luchina Fisher’s acclaimed documentary short, “Team Dream.” The film won our Ebert Award at the 2023 edition of the Ebertfest Film Festival. Madeline is also one of the kindest women around.
George E. Johnson, Sr., and Madeline Murphy Rabb. Photo courtesy of AFRO Media.
Together George and Madeline embraced a season of life that many people assume no longer exists in later years. They traveled, visited friends, and shared adventures. It is a beautiful reminder that life’s final chapters need not be defined by decline. They can also be marked by companionship, curiosity and gratitude. Just this past November, George was honored with the Edwin C. “Bill” Berry Civil Rights Award by the Chicago Urban League. And it was only weeks prior to his passing, according to his son Eric via AP News, that the Joan and George Johnson Program Room was dedicated to them at the recently opened Obama Presidential Center. President Barack Obama was in attendance for the dedication as was George, a crowning moment for a towering life.
When George took his final breath at the age of ninety-nine, Madeline was beside him, holding his hand. There is something quietly fitting about that image. A man who spent nearly a century building, creating, and giving was surrounded, in the end, by love. History will remember George as a pioneering businessman, a visionary entrepreneur, and one of the most consequential figures in the history of Black enterprise. Those titles are well deserved. Long before “Black excellence” became part of our everyday vocabulary, George was quietly living its meaning. His products filled store shelves. His vision expanded horizons. And his legacy will continue to grow in every entrepreneur bold enough to imagine a future that others cannot yet see.
