RPL Examines Black Religious Thought and American Democracy
In a recent RPL guest lecture, Paul Cato examined the role of Black religious thought in American democracy, emphasizing the influence and challenge of love.
Paul Cato, Postdoctoral Teaching Fellow, Providence College
On February 20, 2026, Religion and Public Life (RPL) invited Paul Cato, a postdoctoral teaching fellow at Providence College, to give a lecture on Black religious thought and American democracy. The lecture, “The Time for a Black Religious Experiment: Love and Democracy in America’s 250th Year,” provided a timely exploration of how Black American thinkers have adapted American values through a lens of love and “soulfulness,” thereby challenging white supremacist ideals embedded in the founding documents of the United States.
Throughout his lecture, Cato focused on the concept of "Black radical optimism," which dominated African American political thought after World War II and emphasized “active love.” Challenging traditional academic norms, Cato employed testimony—a practice common in African American religious traditions that creates a platform for the voices of marginalized people—to share insights that he has gained not only through his academic work, but also his lived experience.
To illustrate diverse expressions of Black radical optimism, Cato paired each African American thinker in his presentation with a song from Stevie Wonder’s album Songs in the Key of Life. For example, Cato discussed James Baldwin’s critique that people want to receive love but are unwilling to practice it, placing it in conversation with Stevie Wonder’s song “Love’s in Need of Love Today,” which urges listeners to act out of love without delay.
Another thinker Cato included was Nikki Giovanni, a post-civil rights poet and activist. Giovanni was concerned with not only critiquing whiteness, but also how members of the Black community treated one another. Cato shared a video of Baldwin and Giovanni in conversation, in which Giovanni challenges Baldwin’s thinking. While Giovanni’s criticism of Baldwin has not always been well received, Cato argues that she exemplifies how love should be operationalized in relationships through attentive listening. Cato paired Giovanni’s philosophy with Stevie Wonder’s song “Ordinary Pain,” highlighting the work that is necessary to tend to loving relationships.
Cato’s lecture utilized a unique combination of philosophy, personal experience, and music to demonstrate how Black thinkers have theorized and practiced love as a means of resisting and dismantling white supremacy, providing a model for how we can continue to work toward racial justice today in the context of American democracy.
SPEAKER 1: Harvard Divinity School.
SPEAKER 2: "The Time for a Black Religious Experiment-- Love and Democracy in America's 250th Year." February 20, 2026.
TERRENCE JOHNSON: Good afternoon, friends. Welcome to Religion and Public Life. I'm Terrence [INAUDIBLE] Johnson, the director, and we're excited to welcome you to today's conversation with Dr. Paul Cato on this talk, "The Time for a Black Religious Experiment-- Love and Democracy in America's 250th Year."
Before we begin, I'd like to acknowledge that we sit on the traditional and ancestral land of the Massachusetts, the original inhabitants of what is now known as Cambridge and Boston. We pay respect to the people of the Massachusetts tribe, past and present, and honor the land itself, which remains sacred to the Massachusett people. Religion and Public Life is a unit of Harvard Divinity School. We attempt to explore religion in context, exploring ways in which power and the environment, conflict, politics, and ethics overlap. And we try to do so in a way that explores religion with rigor and a great deal of compassion, and really exploring religion in all aspects.
I'm excited to welcome Dr. Paul Cato to the Divinity School, to RPO. He is an extraordinary young scholar, started at Swarthmore College with his BA, and then earned a PhD from the University of Chicago in social thought. He studies Black political thought, African-American religion, and aesthetics. He is a Black feminist and scholar of religion who studies how Black Americans have contributed to love's history, theorization, and politics.
What really stands out in Dr. Cato's work is the creative ways in which he's looking at Black feminist thought and religion in ways that attempt to expand how we understand politics and political theory writ large, and exploring political theory and politics in the context of how religion and this category of love meet and are unfolding within the incredible history of African-Americans in the US. He is currently working on several projects, one of which is his manuscript titled "Talk of Fire-- Religion and the Sensual, James Baldwin, Black intellectuals, and the Discourse on Act of Love." It examines discussions of love, religion, and politics that emerged during Baldwin's conversations with and canonization of Black intellectuals, past and present.
Some of the theorists he will explore include Maya Angelou, Ralph Ellison, Audre Lorde, Toni Morrison, and Bell Hooks. Doctor Cato is also the co-founder of the Black Love Studies Institute, a research collective that really explores the ways in which love and politics overlap, both in African-American traditions and in the general public. So, friends, we're excited to welcome Dr. Cato to RPO. Please note that we are recording today's conversation, and after Dr. Cato's talk, we will have a Q&A. Welcome, Paul. Really great to have you here.
PAUL CATO: Well, thank you so much, Terrence. And I want to thank Reem as well and the whole program in the Religion and Public Life Office for giving me this opportunity to share these ideas. I think we all know we're in a moment of intense questioning about what it means to be an American and what democracy looks like, so I'm so glad I have the opportunity to share one perspective.
Before I begin the talk, I want to make clear and open I think we're at a point in which this African-American way of understanding religion and the world and spirituality really must be turned if we're going to go and survive whatever conflicts we're experiencing, whether it has to do with international friction, that has to do with internal issues going on in the country itself, or even just conflict within people's families. It seems strange to me that we're surprised by this, and to be honest, I don't think Black Americans are surprised anymore. But our country goes through historical cycles in which Black Americans warn the country about what will come regarding the conflict of democracy. Black Americans respond as that conflict with democracy affects our communities, and then the conflict grows and expands and affects the broader communities.
I want to focus on one of those examples and connect it to today during my talk. So it's a pleasure to be here. It's a pleasure to share with you all and share a bit of that same act of love that it kind of anchors and grounds all of my research.
So here, I'll begin with my talk, entitled "A Black Religious Experiment-- Love and Democracy in America's 250th Year." So before I begin, I want to go and clarify one thing. This will not be a typical talk that you might have. I won't be reading from a speech. I won't be looking down and so forth. I'm going to bear witness and give testimony. Testimony is a long practice within religious traditions dating throughout the world, in which someone makes an assertion about humanity or the world at large by drawing on their personal experience.
People testify all the time. Children testify, if not, the most, I'd say. They go to their parents and they make an observation about what they've experienced and tell their mother, father, grandchildren, grandparents, wow, this is how the world must work. And what's interesting is so many of their truths work and do resonate. We might want to nuance them later, but this testimonial discourse is a powerful way to go and communicate information and ideas, because anyone can testify regardless of their social political location and how much power they might have.
So I want to go, and we really need to bring that back into academic discourse. It allows students who are from non-traditional backgrounds to feel comfortable in classrooms. It gives a voice to marginalized folks who aren't often listened to as intellectuals. And if we look back at it, testimony is used in every space. Fascinatingly, the Western world might not always consider testimony a accurate way of going and doing rational work, but if we go and think about it, Hegel, Kierkegaard, all our great philosophers of religion, Kant, so forth, they all testified in different ways. And we go and see people draw on their testimonial accounts during lectures and outside during journals and entries and so forth to go and flush that out.
Well, a question that will always come to me is, if Kant's testimonies can be taken, why can't Malcolm X's be brought in, too? Why must it take a long time? Why must there be writing? A close friend of mine once said, written work and written philosophy is what's truth. And then I asked him, well, African communities have communicated their philosophy for a long time, and their spiritual beliefs through oral history. Is that somehow less philosophical, less right? He stared at me in the face and had no answer, because testimony as a mechanism for spreading truth had just never crossed his mind. So I wish to go demonstrate its power. It's not the only way, of course, to go communicate in information, but it is a common one and it's one we should go and embrace in spaces like the higher education as we move forward in society.
So I want to go, and we're going to start here today. Regardless of one's politics, it is very clear that the United States is in a point of deep conflict and just a sudden uncertainty. And while the conflicts were going and maximizing in all different spaces-- for example, there's tension between Gen Z and millennials, despite the two generations having many similar political views. I talk to my students who are members of Gen Z, and they just have a sense of not despair, but a lack of hope, dare I say, about the world changing. And I go and talk to my fellow millennials, and we still have our sense of we can go change the world, but there's frustration coming through. There might be disagreements and so forth on the same topic.
And it's just interesting to see the divisions, as well, to come through older generations between baby boomers, who I'm now seeing are arguing amongst themselves. And then even if we step outside these generational disagreements, which are common but seem to be more heated at the moment, perhaps because social media has allowed all of us to comment, to discuss, it seems as though there's a black and white issue, a right and wrong, a deep binary and divide on every social political issue going on in the United States.
And while there's something to be said about disagreement as being fundamental to democracy-- there is no democratic theory that does not acknowledge the chaos and argument that has to come for a group of people to come together and go and accommodate the needs of one another, to go have a unified sense-- there's something about the disagreements going on now that are charged with a violence that just isn't necessary, coming with cursing that does not need to be happening, threatening going on to Black intellectuals. I've now learned about the app Yik Yak, which has space for each college, and I made the mistake of going online and reading some of the comments people make anonymously about each other.
So it just seems clear something needs to change. And while this is a repeated mantra every time there's a social political shift-- "something must change, something must change--" it seems now is the perfect time, given the fact that it is the semiquincentennial, the 250th anniversary of our country's democracy. What better opportunity to change than a major anniversary of the country?
So as I go and I think about all of this, I think, in particular, about one moment in which a student of mine a few years ago came to me and she was crying. She was in a state of deep frustration. And I told her, well, if you're going to love James Baldwin, we're teaching in class, then you have to be optimistic. Otherwise, you and James Baldwin and you and Toni Morrison, you and all these other authors that we're reading in our Black Love class in the religion department, just aren't really sinking as much as you say. She looked at me and she was uncertain, because it was fascinating to see that there was a lack of awareness that there is a rich tradition of Black optimism going on in the United States.
How can a group be reduced to being slaves and not be optimistic if they're going to go fight and go and achieve their liberation? That's just not possible. So it's fascinating to see the ways in which we have gone and drawn to figures like Baldwin and Morrison and so forth, and stripped them of that optimism. But I'd make the contention there is a deep tradition of Black radical optimism so deep that it goes and has pushed us forward. It is not a coincidence that people turn to the quotes of Baldwin, Maya Angelou, Toni Morrison, Ralph Ellison in times of trouble, when all of those authors are going and writing about some of the most disparaging and difficult moments in our country's history.
Optimism from Black people is a mechanism of change, and it seems very clear that it is now erupting-- sorry, now emerging and coming back as a certain form of increased things. But I would say this, that optimism that now is coming forth and we see in different philosophical conversations between Black theorists and Black feminists who might have issues with people who are more masculinist views on how the world should work, that optimism is always there. My grandmother, who's 93 years old, she has always had a sentiment of Black optimism. How else would she have raised six children by herself? That Black optimism came, and it was shown by my dad, who would laugh and went to Morehouse, just like Moore-- just like Terrence, and there's a sense of just optimism that radiates from the AUC, where Morehouse and Spelman and Clark Atlanta are unified.
And then there is just Black neighborhoods where you just see that optimism constantly-- Harlem, the deep South, New Orleans, all throughout Atlanta and DC. And that's what I want us to go and revive and pick to. We don't need to focus on the passages of despair and books about written by Black thinkers, because most of them want you focusing on that optimism so you can keep hoping and pushing alive.
[VIDEO PLAYBACK]
- I can't be a pessimist because I'm alive. To be a pessimist means that you have agreed that human life is an academic matter. So I'm forced to be an optimist. I'm forced to believe that we can survive, and we must survive.
[END PLAYBACK]
PAUL CATO: It's interesting to hear Baldwin say this in an interview with Kenneth Clark. When he made this point, he had just come from that infamous discussion with the attorney general at the time, Robert F. Kennedy, who dismissed Baldwin and Lorraine Hansberry and a bunch of other Black thinkers and intellectuals' concerns about the Civil Rights era and what the Kennedy administration was going to do about it.
Now, later, Bobby Kennedy would become a great marker of American liberalism and an icon before he was tragically shot in June 1968, but at this point, Baldwin and Hansberry, other Black thinkers, were saying to Kennedy, you are not looking at this correctly. But their response was still one of optimism. You go read A Raisin in the Sun and Hansberry is telling us we must have hope. You go listen to anything Baldwin writes, and what people love to focus on-- his critiques of whiteness and heterosexuality and so forth-- there's optimism everywhere. We don't see enough of the videos of Baldwin smiling and laughing. We don't see enough of that with Toni Morrison as well. But Black radical optimism is at the core of Black political thought, especially in the years following World War II.
So as I look back to this, I think what better way for us to go and take the 250th anniversary than look at these figures who are constantly coming up, not just during Black History Month, but everywhere ongoing? Suddenly, Baldwin, Morrison and so forth are no longer just Black or the property of Black America. They are celebrated and loved throughout the country, and I think, again, what does it say if all people of different races and backgrounds are coming and joining on to this. Why not go and build a democracy based on this sentiment of love?
With these thinkers in particular, the ones I'm referring to, they subscribe to an attitude of a political perspective and spiritual view that they would describe as active love. Baldwin had a specific quote going and referring to this in an interview with James Mossman, a British journalist. As he writes-- as he speaks, "I'm not a believer in any sense which would make sense to any church. I believe in love. I mean something active, something more like a fire, like the wind. Something which can change you." This sentiment seems prevalent throughout this tradition of active love throughout thinkers like Nikki Giovanni, Ralph Ellison, Baldwin, Toni Morrison, and so forth. And now, by going and looking back at this, we might go and think about what a democracy of love might look like.
I will go, however, and to tell the story of me discovering this, I must make clear I did not find it from going and sitting down and reading the books behind me. I had it because I was blessed enough to be raised in DC-- also known as Chocolate City. Washington DC is a strange place for any one people who have visited. You go and you visit the city and you have a sense of, wow, this is the history of our country, the founding point. But at the same time, it is one of the Blackest places in the country, dare I say in the world.
DC was built on the backs of Black slaves. With the liberation that came after the Emancipation Proclamation, that was not extended fully to Black residents of DC because it was still below the Mason-Dixon line and Abraham Lincoln only freed slaves in states that had gone and revolted against the US. But Maryland and other places were still unable to go and keep their slaves, including DC. And so fascinating, Black people have always been tied to the federal government.
When you go and grow up as a Black person in DC, you have an understanding both of how the government works, how the nation operates because the people working in those offices in the Department of Labor or what have you are Black. And at the same time, you see the hypocrisy of how those American ideals do not operate.
I remember my mom once talking about how they understood love in DC and whether they had a Black sense of love. She looked at me. We just called it "love." And I realized, in my sense, wow, so what DC residents understood as love was deeply Black, resonating with Toni Morrison and all of that, coming through the music I heard from Howard University. And then my dad's insistence, while I went to an elite DC private school full of white students, was I need you to remember people called it "Chocolate City."
And it was interesting to come to school every day to go and feel that sense of Chocolate City pride that my dad had carried with it even after we moved to the suburbs. But to see my classmates, who were also from DC, have no sense of the reality that without Black people, their hometown would not exist, let alone exist as it does.
So when I was growing up as a child, I was fascinated by my parents' history, how they met and so forth. And they seemed to collect a lot of things from the '70s in which they had moved to DC. Eventually, I found a bunch of quarters from the bicentennial year, in 1976, under Jimmy Carter's presidency. And I had a sense, wow, the United States was very proud of itself for making itself to 200 years. But at the same time, when I looked up the history of the '70s, especially the mid '70s, I was not seeing success for our nation.
And it was interesting to me. You all can go and print quarters that look amazing, that make it seem as though the country has gone great. I've seen pictures and artwork that illustrate the pride in America. But that's not what's being depicted and experienced by Black people, queer people, so on and so forth.
What was fascinating to me was it seemed as though Black America was most proud in 1976 of its poet-prophet, Stevie Wonder, who in that year released the album Songs in the Key of Life, broke so many records, had a double album. I can go on and on. I'm looking at a Stevie Wonder poster on the side of my wall right now, because my dad infected me with that love of the great Stevie Wonder.
And it was interesting once I dove into his music to see, wow, this is how many Black people were celebrating their pride in the United States-- not through quarters, not through large marches with American flags and so forth, but with a sense of we are American, too. We're just going to spice it up and show it with our own soulful way. In this way, I saw a parallel to DC. Yes, here is the United States government. Here is the principles of our country. But we're going to do it in a soulful, chocolate way. And Stevie seemed to understand that.
Today, I'm going to go and demonstrate how I understood love coming through that aspect. I was exposed to deep Democratic principles from the United States. I went to the DC school, that elite DC school. I went on trips to the capital, so forth. But I came home every day and was saturated in a soulful, chocolate understanding of that Democratic discourse. And while it was not received well at my high school, when we had debates about the Civil War and so forth-- one teacher even encouraged people to join the Confederate side in our pseudo debate about it-- going and having Stevie and other Black artists like Marvin Gaye go and anchor that aspect told me, no, there's something about that democracy that is fascinating.
And it is interesting to think that 15 years later, some of those same classmates are coming down, going and giving credit to Stevie and other Black soul artists for changing their perspective on America. But again, what does it say that Stevie was doing this in 1976 and people are only realizing it now, 50 years later?
I think each of the philosophers in the tradition of active love could be or maybe were predicting Stevie's understanding of America. So I'd like to go and look at those connections between Songs in the Key of Life, an album that talks about what it is to be a person, especially through the perspective of Black Americans, and some of these thinkers that we've heard about so much.
I'm going to begin with James Baldwin. Baldwin went, and he wanted to make clear that love was fundamental to navigating and existing in the world. You could not function and navigate as a human being without some sentiment of love. According to him, love meant everything. It meant the look that you give someone on the street. It meant the deep feelings of hate and bitterness you might feel to somebody that are consuming your connection. It even meant just going and enjoying someone's company as well as going and being that major aspect that came through.
In this way, he took a general sentiment that his presence throughout Black American Christianity and adapted it to go and fit within a more political, secular aspect. Love is a fundamental way in which so many Black communities understand themselves, extending beyond simple Christian traditions of "I love my immediate family." And if we think about the history of slavery and Black people in America, the notion of family changed so much each time, each week.
Who knew when someone's wife was going to go and get sold, or when someone's son would be going moved into another family or plantation? As a result, love and sentiments had to go beyond the simple recognition of you're my biological child, I married you, you're my husband, and so forth as families operated fluidly. Baldwin was very aware of this. He, himself, had experiences as the adopted stepson of a man who grew to hate him. And Baldwin's questions about how this could work were constantly going through.
His concern was that while people knew they needed love, and while people went and ascribed to, had the desire of seeking love-- every one of his novels is about this-- Baldwin was worried that love itself was not being committed to itself, that people went and they wanted love, but they were not willing to practice it. It seemed on the first track of Songs in the Key of Life, Stevie Wonder was thinking the same thing.
[STEVIE WONDER, "LOVE'S IN NEED OF LOVE TODAY"]
(SINGING) Good morn' or evening, friends
Here's your friendly announcer
I have serious news to pass on to everybody
What I'm about to say
Could mean the world's disaster
Could change your joy and laughter to tears and pain
It's that love's in need of love today
Don't delay, send yours in right away
Hate's going round, breaking many hearts
Stop it please before it's gone too far
Well, I could go on and on about the connection between James Baldwin and Stevie Wonder, I will hold back and leave it just at this point that I want to make clear. Baldwin never lost faith and hope that love was being-- that love could be sustained. As he understood it and said in one quote, "Love has never been a popular movement. And no one's wanted, really, to be free. The world is held together, it really is held together by the love and passion of a very few people." Shortly thereafter, in the quote, which is often gone and cut off straight here, Baldwin goes and nods at the interviewer, acknowledging the fact that, yes, it's difficult, but we've been doing it and we'll continue to.
You go and listen to Stevie singing that song, "Love's in Need of Love Today," and he is not writing a disparaging song of, oh, we cannot have any hope. Stevie's going and inviting people to join in that power of love. And that was a sentiment going on in Black America in 1976 as a question was coming up, where do we sit, where do we stand? But if you go and search "African-Americans 1976," you will see many pictures. Some will be an illustration of political agitation and frustration, the typical things we see when we think of Black politics. But so much will be pictures from Ebony Magazine, Jet, so on and so forth, showing that Black people were just going and relishing in the fact that they loved life, and they knew their understanding of how it meant to care for other people was, one, misrepresented as nothing but abuse and so forth, or as people going and living in problematic households due to so many reports and sociological aspects.
But no, this understanding this need for love was understood best by Black people and could serve as a model. Both Stevie and Baldwin understood that aspect. I think sometimes that gets missed. But when you hear the sentiment in that loving aspect come through both of them, you understand, no, love is an action and a process, and neither of them believed it couldn't be fulfilled.
At the same time, we have Octavia Butler, who wrote, and decades later, was more at the end of the tradition of active love. And she brought this aspect in a fascinating way. In her speculative fiction, she went and invented religions, almost all of them inspired by her background in the Black Baptist church. And while she identified as an atheist and have emphasized degree of secularism in her understanding of the world, it was not a disparaging to people who were believers or the church itself. It was rather an encouragement to reimagine what it could look like to have belief, to have faith in other people.
Now, we would refer to that as some of Black humanism, but to think about the idea that a queer Black woman would go and present the idea to create a new religion, a new way of understanding, one anchored in a sense of freedom and opportunity, inspired by the Black Baptist church, goes and speaks to this radical tradition of optimism. You must have deep faith in people's capacity to reimagine the world, to go make such a pronouncement. And what does it say now that she is experiencing such a Renaissance as people of all different races are going and building things?
To go and quote from her most famous novel, the Parable of the Sower, "Paradise is one's own place, one's own people, one's own world, knowing and known, perhaps even loving and loved. Yet every child is cast from this paradise into growth and new community, into vast, ongoing change." One might read this quote and think, wow, it despairing and talking about a child losing paradise. But that's not the truth. That's not the case.
Her speculative fiction focused on the aspect by which things that end offer us an opportunity to build something new. And I cannot think of another community in the world who has gone and had to go proceed in the option of rebuilding and re-imagining what it could be like to be a citizen, to care for one another than African-Americans. Each promise given to create a paradise for us to go and succeed and thrive is taken away. We've seen this whether it's affirmative action, whether segregation coming through and Jim Crow, whether it has to do with the strange racial capitalism of the 1980s, or the interesting way in which we had Nixon or Jimmy Carter both attend and plead that they would go and attend to the needs of Black Americans, but neither come through.
Well, it seemed as though Octavia Butler was foretold, and this understanding was shared by Stevie Wonder himself, also talking about paradise.
[STEVIE WONDER, "PASTIME PARADISE"]
(SINGING) Been spending most their lives
Living in a pastime paradise
Been spending most their lives
Living in pastime paradise
Been wasting most their time
Glorifying days long gone behind
Been wasting most their days
In remembrance of ignorance oldest praise
Tell me who will come to be
How many of them are you and me
Dissipation, race relations
Consolation, segregation
Dispensation, isolation
Exploitation, mutilation
Mutation, miscreation
Confirmation to the evils of the world
Been spending most of their lives
Living in a future paradise
Been spending most their lives
Living in a future paradise
They've been looking in their minds
For the day that sorrow is lost from time
They keep telling of the day
When the savior of love will come to stay
In this passage from-- in this excerpt taken from Stevie Wonder's majorly famous Pastime Paradise, I think back to being a child and hearing this song in Target or on the radio and so forth, and thinking it was just a song of despair. Oh, "pastime paradise," these people are old and complaining. My dad and my mom are listening to this because they would rather live in the '70s.
And when I got older and revisited Stevie after going and wondering about the bicentennial and the weird experiences I was having in the 2010s, trying to understand what the country could be and what it should look like, and now, when I've revisited it, I realized Stevie was not singing about the despair of the past. He was talking about a group of people who do get focused on that, and was encouraging us to take a new mindset, focus on a future paradise. Now I see the connection between Octavia Butler and Stevie is clear.
Let us go and acknowledge that life is hard. Let's go acknowledge the racism going on in the apocalyptic world that Octavia Butler paints in books like Parable of the Sower and Kindred and so on and so forth. Stevie's taking it, let's go and acknowledge that things are tough in the 1970s. We still haven't gotten what we were promised. To quote him, "you haven't done nothing," as he wrote about Richard Nixon in the earlier album.
But this idea of looking for a future paradise, one constructed and one invested in by us, goes and shows a sense of agency. And what does it say that both Octavia Butler and Stevie Wonder assert that it is love that will allow these new spaces to be built? They don't describe what that love will look like, and now we understand because of Butler's multiple intersecting identities, she had no need to go and say what love must look like for each person. Agency was key to that. And it's clear with Stevie he wants us to get together collectively, show love, and push to create that future paradise.
The lack of explicit outlining of what that must look like and how it would operate goes and invites more imagination. And this is what I think brings in that spirit and soul. When I look at the bicentennial pictures, I see antiquated references to 19-- sorry, to 1776. The United States had, by that point, maybe 20 amendments to correct the Constitution. There were still references in it, rather than revising it entirely to the 3/5 clause.
And it's interesting. Why would we go back to an old document instead of finding new images to paint of the United States, ones that are diverse? Now, later in the '90s, we would see this and, in that sense, maybe that's why my multiculturalism is coming out. But it was fascinating to see, in the bicentennial, people look to the past when the United States was not thriving in the way it should because of those past aspects. But then to here, in '76, Stevie Wonder would do the same thing, but say, let's look forward. That seemed to be more Americanist than anything I heard, because I understood the country to be founded as a place to create new glory and vision. That seemed more American Democratic to me.
At the same time, there was one individual, one figure who I will never fully understand but just draws me in, and that is Nikki Giovanni, a post-Civil Rights Era activist and poet. Giovanni's identity as a Black feminist was just marked throughout her career, and she had no problem going up to anyone-- man, woman, white, Black-- and telling them off, telling her opinion. And this was the spirit shown by people in the post-Civil Rights Era who were Black.
Amiri Baraka, for example; Kwame Ture, formerly known as Stokely Carmichael; Nikki and so on and so forth. And this affirmation of I'm going to be honest with you, this is real love by being assertive of what I feel and what I need, was deeply fascinating. Now, over time, she would go and shift in meaning about what she meant about being sincere, truthful, honest, so on and so forth. But it is fascinating to see what she thought about in 1973, only three years before Stevie Wonder let out Songs in the Key of Life.
And if you're going and looking at the albums in revision and fulfilling this as a full finale, you will see a just deep resonance between Stevie Wonder and Nikki Giovanni. But there's also the case if we go and look at Songs in the Key of Life. I have to begin with the a clip from a conversation Giovanni and Baldwin have just to go situate your understanding of her.
[VIDEO PLAYBACK]
- What I really mean is that, yes, a man can do that if he sees a way-- if he sees that it means something. My father couldn't see that. And he was quite right because there wasn't anything.
- There's something because all I can-- all I know that works in the world is a relationship.
- Yes, all right.
- That's all that's going to work. It takes two people to have a relationship.
- Yeah, but the relationship--
- If you don't have a dream, fake it.
- But the-- you can't fake a dream.
- You've got to fake it, because we don't have dreams these days. How the hell can you have a dream? For what?
- Well, it isn't--
- Everybody's jiving. Let's jive on that level.
- If I love you, I can't lie to you.
- Of course you can lie to me. And you will. If you love me and you're going off with Mattie someplace, you're lying to me, because what the hell do I care about the truth? I care if you're there. What Billie Holiday say, hush now, don't explain.
- All right. I accept that.
- Of course. Of course you love me. Because I don't even want to care-- what does the truth matter? And why are you going to be truthful with me when you lie to everybody else? You lied when you smiled at that cracker down the job, right? Lie to me. Smile. Treat me the same way you would treat him.
- I can't treat you the way I treat him.
- You must. You must. Because I've caught the-- I've caught the frowns and the anger. He's happy with you. Of course, he doesn't know you're unhappy. You grin at him all day long. You come home and I catch hell. Because I love you, I get least of you. I get the very minimum.
And I'm saying, fake it with me. Is that too much of the Black woman to ask of the Black man? For 10 years, so that we can get a child on his feet that says, yeah, Father smiled at Mother. He talked to me about school today. Who cares that you can read or can't read? Most Americans can't read. Most people can't read.
[END PLAYBACK]
PAUL CATO: When this clip came out, there was deep dissension and frustration, concern. People-- oh, here, we see Nikki Giovanni, angry Black woman. Oh, here we see the next generation, this post-soul era of these poets, Baraka and Giovanni, going and attacking great civil rights heroes like Baldwin.
But now, when you look back, you realize, no, this is another discussion of love. Now within the Black radical tradition of this Black optimistic love, people were used to going and critiquing white women-- sorry, white people, going and calling out white men for their racism and the way they worked at work, and white women for their accusations of Black men being dangerous, and Black women not even having beauty.
But Giovanni goes and demonstrates a key aspect that we often forget-- the participants in this optimistic discourse, this love-based discourse said, no, it's not just about how we interact with white people. It's about how we treat each other. And it seems strange to me to go and have this, oh, wow, she's going and accusing this of James Baldwin, one of the most open-minded people. One scholar friend of mine notes the fact that both of them are queer, so that whole dynamic and that they would go and represent straight Black men and women in this conversation is a little off-putting, a little off-kilter.
But nonetheless, that sentiment of, let's be honest about the conflicts within our community, runs deep. And it was fascinating to see that on Songs in the Key of Life, Stevie felt the same way.
[STEVIE WONDER, "ORDINARY PAIN"] Tell her you're glad
It's over, in fact
Can she take with her the pain she brought you back
Taking that ordinary pain from your heart
It's more than just an
Ordinary pain from your heart
Don't fool yourself
But tell no one else
That it's more than just
An ordinary pain from your heart
Your heart
In your heart
In your heart
You're just a masochistic fool
Because you knew my love was cruel
You never listen when they said
Don't let that girl go to your head
But like a playboy, you said no
This little girl mind, you will blow
But then it blew you out the back
When I put myself on key and lock
On this song, I remember going-- at one point, I was in sophomore year, around this same time, thinking about the bicentennial. And I remember in my first relationship, being broken up with and calling my ex-girlfriend constantly, just begging her on the phone, please forgive me. And then listening to this song later and laughing at myself. Paul, you did not treat that woman with respect. You went and-- you can't call yourself some great believer in love and Black-based love. You say you're inspired by your parents-- and mind you, I was 16 years old.
But it was fascinating to listen to a song written by a man back in the 1970s saying, men, we fool around and are silly all the time. We violate that sense of love that we claim we represent better than white people. If we're going to go and get this together, we better demonstrate it, hear what women are saying and operate it. And it has been with me throughout my time on trying to understand this philosophy of active love that could go and model this.
Seeing Nikki Giovanni and Baldwin do this kind of dialogue goes and demonstrates what active love looks like within a family, within a personal connection. It is not just going and saying, I need to believe in love to save society, like Baldwin says. It's not just about imagining a new future. It is about actively treating other people with respect, especially those who love us dearly.
We see here Baldwin being forced to listen to a woman younger than him, to someone who has not written as extensively. And by the end of the clip, he's saying, wow, you're right. I had never considered that. That positioning into that vulnerability of active love is deeply needed today. What would it mean if people who have power and are in more-- went and listened to the truths of marginalized people, stopped and heard and thought about that ordinary pain that those with power have, and realized there's ordinary pain on the parts of marginalized people all the time because of those powerful people's very participation?
We see what happened in response to Black Lives Matter, going and speaking about that daily ordinary pain, which was deep, when it led to a fascinating change and shift, and now has incited a response, as we've seen from the Trump administration. And it seems powerful that Stevie and Nikki Giovanni could see that far only in their 20s.
Next, we had my figure, Malcolm X. It was difficult being raised in a household of a Morehouse grad because in my understanding, Morehouse represented Martin Luther King, who was a graduate there, the most famous graduate of the school. But at the same time, my dad seemed to have a deep appreciation for Malcolm X. And as far as I had been told in white history narratives, Malcolm X and Martin Luther King were not seeing eye-to-eye.
As I learned more about Malcolm X himself, especially reading the book and pieces of the book in high school, around the same time that I discovered Stevie Wonder and his bicentennial notions of democracy, it was fascinating to see, wow, Malcolm X loves all people. He just does not want Black people to be treated in a terrible way and he does not have faith in someone not willing to demonstrate love to him.
And as I look back, I see that his understanding of active love meant taking full responsibility for oneself rather than waiting for the people in power, waiting for institutions to approve of love or to demonstrate love themselves. There was something liberating and optimistic about that. I can go and take my life under my own hands. I can go demonstrate love. We can go push and have that change. I see that all the time in my Black students, and I see the ways in which, when I teach Black religion classes or classes on Black love, by the end of the semester, those students who are not Black have gone and felt inspired by my Black students to go and demonstrate and take ownership of what love could look like.
What does it mean for non-white students to have a better sense-- or, sorry, a more vigorous, stronger sense of what it means to love properly and healthily on a white campus than some white students do themselves? It raises an interesting question about what democracy can look like and, again, speaks to going and looking back. Malcolm X was deep about his commitment to a universal sense of humanism and love, one that transcended race, one that transcended religion. And by the end of his life, he was attacked and murdered because of that fact.
To quote him, as he said in the autobiography, "I saw all races, all colors, blue-eyed blonds to black-skinned Africans in true brotherhood! In unity! Living as one! Worshiping as one!" Malcolm X understood that this is what he had seen after visiting Mecca towards the end of his life and recognizing that his understanding of God and love could include everything.
That's the sort of impassioned spirit, I think, that the act of love tradition deeply calls for. The political act is to say, no, this is my responsibility to go do something about it. Maintaining the vision that I have and understanding unity is true. But we do not have to wait. Stevie seemed to agree entirely.
[STEVIE WONDER, "BLACK MAN"] We pledge allegiance
All our lives
To the magic colors
Red, blue, and white
But we all must be given
The liberty that we defend
For with justice not for all men
History will repeat again
It's time we learned
This world was made for all men
Hear me out
Oh
And now I'll go and I will end with the iconic, the canonical-- the Black man I think we can-- no, I'm going to make-- I'll step back as I testify and I feel the spirit in me, the individual who I feel is most known and most connected in the modern era to the sentiment of love, Martin Luther King. It was interesting, as I got exposed to MLK at my white school, that he seemed a removed figure. Love is good.
And I remember, I just did not feel comfortable learning about Martin Luther King at my school, because I would go home and my dad would give me a different narrative of this man, a person with a family, a person who understood love had to be enacted, and someone who just made my dad feel safe, comfortable, and smile as he thought about him. I didn't see these same reactions. Something told me that Martin Luther King's approach to democracy was not fully received in my high school.
But it was deeply at the house, it was deeply at the Cato residence, and that sentiment of understanding him has just made him a different kind of figure in my life. I'll say this, I love Martin Luther King because my dad and mom loved him, because Chocolate City loves him. And as a result, my understanding and engagement with that act of love is one. Let me love like my hero Martin Luther King does-- dare I say, my uncle, my spiritual uncle, Martin Luther King.
And with his sentiment of loving one's neighbors, loving one's enemies, we see it constantly. To take his quote, "Have we not come to an impasse in the modern world where we must love our enemies-- or else?" Martin Luther King saw love as a need because we would go and be dissolved without it, just like Stevie and Baldwin pointed out that love was constantly needed. But his sense of we need to go and take action now, while also coming to people in a loving, pastor-like way, demonstrated why I felt some sentiment.
And one of the final songs on the album Songs in the Key of Life seems to repeat that Martin Luther King sentiment. It's also worth noting Stevie Wonder went and pushed for Martin Luther King's birthday to be made a national holiday, and even wrote a song that is now famous for birthdays about Martin Luther King.
[STEVIE WONDER, "IF IT'S MAGIC"] If it's magic
Why can't we make it everlasting?
Like the lifetime of the sun
It will leave no heart undone
For there's enough for everyone
Oh
Oh
While there are other more famous Stevie Wonder songs and many about love, I would argue that "If It's Magic" speaks to the groundedness by which he thought love could operate. We show love for one another in terms of how we feel and express ourselves, the acts of care and service we do, the way in which we try our best to grow so as to respect people better. And I think that just speaks to the center of what Martin Luther King was operating.
Love was and is everywhere in Martin Luther King's vision. And if we go and just accept that, it becomes more comforting and less fearful. Baldwin wanted us to be fearful and understand-- sorry, to confront our fears and understand that love must be taken. But Martin Luther King seemed to operate with a different optimistic sentiment. We have no choice. We're just going to do it because we need to, and it's right there. Stevie clearly seemed to agree with him.
Now to wrap up, I want to make clear I am not an ideal practitioner of active love. I make mistakes every day. I go and make foolish comments to my students, to my girlfriend. I am still trying my best to learn how to go and, dare I say, respectfully go and push this discourse of active love.
But I think the one space in which I feel it most, and I feel just the hope come through, why I am optimistic is because I enter the classroom and see students who are of college age go and have their eyes light up when exposed to these sentiments. It is on all of us here, whether we're scholars, whether we're teachers, just curious adults who saw a weird-sounding title talk and wanted to come to go take up this sentiment of active love.
I don't where it might come in your life-- I find it in the classroom-- but I guarantee you all have experienced ordinary pain that will lead you to go and be more mindful of others. You do have some sense of a future paradise. You have a strong sense that the Black man should work together with the yellow and white man, and you have a deep understanding that, no, love is needed and we all need to bring it back. It is not a coincidence that people watch TV shows about love nonstop. You can't have a TV show or a narrative without love in it.
Baldwin speaks to this.
[VIDEO PLAYBACK]
- A day will come when you will trust you more than you do now, when you trust me more than you do now, when you trust each other. I do believe-- I really do believe-- in the New Jerusalem. I really do believe that we can all become better than we are. I know we can. But the price is enormous and people are not yet willing to pay it.
[END PLAYBACK]
PAUL CATO: OK, thank you.
TERRENCE JOHNSON: Thank you, brother Paul, for this incredible lecture and just really-- just both challenging but also a lot of nuance, especially when you weave together the art you have alongside your lecture. And so there's a lot to ask. So we have about 11 minutes left, but I wanted to ask a question in terms of-- it really kind of extends what Baldwin was saying.
What is the price of Black radical optimism? Especially in terms of how you frame your lecture, it was interesting because you situate DC, in some ways, as the center; and then DC in terms of its connections, obviously, to the nation, the federal government. And then alongside the nation, this idea of representation / power.
And the irony is that you grew up in a context of Chocolate City, of love, and you see the great promise of Chocolate City through Walter-- is it Walter Washington? No, no, Marion Barry, and thinking through all the right things he did. And yet, what's the price of that? A city with powerful African-Americans, but also without any real political power in terms of self-governance. No representation in Congress or Senate, and the growth of the city is largely fueled through Black middle class life within the federal government, and then people who start businesses with contracts through contract work with government and related fields.
So I'm curious, what is the price of Black radical optimism in the context of how you frame it, and what does that say about its potential to become material in light of the real structural issues in terms of extending Black radical optimism to Black radical power?
PAUL CATO: Well, I think-- one, everything you say is definitely true. So thank you for that question. I was hoping someone would ask it. I think there are two Black DC's. I think there's the Black DC I was exposed to at my high school that, at times, my dad participated in and led us to Silver Spring outside of DC to go and be mindful of the public school system.
But then there was that historic Black Chocolate City, DC. And I remember, I would go to different Black individuals from the city, and there was just that deep African-American irony that just goes through. Yes, life is tough. There's a price to pay, but we're better off than those people who are so consumed and invested in white material capitalism because they are not content. That's why they have to go and push against people and so forth.
I remember just seeing people on the street, in U Street, going and walking around Petworth, Shaw, so on, and so they're just sitting out there enjoying their life, Black people, laughing and having fun. And then I think of the parents at the school I went to, who are just feeling nothing but nerves at work and just anxiousness. For them, a lack of representation was an insult to their whiteness and the fact-- sorry, it was an insult to the fact that as white Americans, they assume they deserve full representation.
But when you're Black, you kind of understand and know, well, the country isn't really set up perfectly. So let's go and have license plates that say "taxation without representation," while also having images and references to the capital on the thing. People will laugh and will smirk. You go on the Washingtonian Problems Instagram page and so much of it will go in announced, different issues going on in DC, and the comments will be flooded with people making jokes and laughing at the humor, knowing that the country cannot exist without Black DC people.
And I think that's where the power and optimism comes. Yes, you don't get that assurance, but you have some kind of spiritual faith that, no, we're doing it the right way because they keep coming back to us, whether they are white, whether they are rich, so on and so forth. They can't function without us, and I think Trump's response is with Elon Musk during DOGE really illustrated that fact. Oh, Terrance, you're still on mute. Yeah.
TERRENCE JOHNSON: Apologies. Thank you, Dr. Cato. We have a question. How does the, quote, "soulful" Black commitment to American democracy support or challenge American imperialism?
PAUL CATO: I think one of the most beautiful things about the aspect of soul, and this came out during the soul era, and Stevie illustrated it, I think, in the songs I listed-- it was in "Black Man--" was a sense that when there is something in you that is just tapped into what Baldwin would call sensuality into your real human self, and I see this again in DC when I would leave the West Side of the park and go into the East side, or go South of the river the few times I did, that's just honest and true. And suddenly, there's not the same judgment about people coming from different lands.
Oh, wow. We're just having fun. We're listening to music. We know how to treat people well, to invite them in. They can go learn how to do the-- come eat mambo sauce and do any kind of activity. You don't need to be staying over there. And I think that pushes and subverts the imperialism. And one thing that is fascinating about DC is how its multiculturalism and diversity is really steered deeply by Black artists, by Black business owners and so forth.
We welcome people from Africa. We welcome people from Asia, so on and so forth. I mean, I miss that deeply, to be quite honest. And it was interesting to see that soulfulness went and served as an inversion of imperialism. No, let's welcome the world. We want it. We want to feel, but we want to feel those differences in the world in terms of human existence and so forth. And again, it cannot be a coincidence that so much DC music goes and reflects influences from around the world.
I don't what term to go use. I'll just call it "multiculturalism" because I'm a child of the '90s, but that's coming through and DC represented that great. And again, that's the irony. The city, itself, in terms of the federal government, is not-- sorry, the nation itself, housed in DC, manifested in the capital, is not respecting that. But DC, the residents, the Black individuals, and we see this now so much. It is one reason why my generation, millennials, love coming to the city and then exploring it, because we were raised on multiculturalism, globalism.
Well, our city was already set up as a global Mecca, a space for other people to come through. And it's been interesting to see, when I bring visitors, how they feel safe, secure, and seen, whether they're first-generation Africans, whether they're Korean descent, so on and so forth. I gotta make clear that this soulful political optimism is not the same as that American democracy of a different sort.
In the same way that we had Frederick Douglass mapping out a different version of American democracy, this is a new version of that. I'm sorry, I could go on and on.
TERRENCE JOHNSON: No, this is really helpful. And it leads to another question we have. "How does this philosophy of active love really extend itself outside of the US context?" Again, you centered DC, think about Howard University, the number of Blacks in the diaspora who are going in and out of the University. You think of the movement in apartheid around Robinson here, in DC.
So how does your philosophy of active love actually, then, lead to a kind of Black internationalism or Black transnationalism?
PAUL CATO: I think I lie here with all the figures who, by the end of their lives, all had some global view of how politics had to operate, transcending US imperialism and critiquing that. And I'd argue because it's about a sense of just enacting your human capacity and need to love, everyone's going to experience that regardless of where they are.
What's been interesting is to see how many different cultures have practices and philosophies of active love. Baldwin and Ellison-- Ellison was not on the list, but he was a major practitioner-- they were inspired by Dostoevsky out in Russia, going and experiencing this aspect. Then we have Malcolm X, again, going to Mecca and finding all different exposures to this sentiment of active love. Nikki Giovanni and the Black Arts Movement was constantly looking for different understandings of the diaspora, whether in Afro-Latino context, whether in Africa itself. And Martin Luther King, who just better known as a global figure of universal aspect.
What's also interesting is to learn Octavia Butler goes and experiences a Renaissance, which I'm new to, and she just has me gripped. I'm seeing the ways in which she, too, thought of the speculative as a way to transcend that. So I think it's a sense of-- I don't know, it resonates with that double consciousness that Du Bois talks with. Yes, we're Black, but then we can go and see a human reality that transcends with that. Let's lean into that while also not escaping the realness and the diversity that we the indifference we embody.
Let's not pretend to be some transcendent liberals that can see past this stuff. No, we're going to be real about it, but that's what makes us more unified with these other countries, because what it's like to experience the harm. It is not a coincidence that Martin Luther King and Baldwin are so resonant throughout the world, and slowly, Audre Lorde and so forth. The feminists don't-- the Black feminists don't need to get the credit they're deserving.
TERRENCE JOHNSON: And very quickly, one last question. So how, then, do you, with the "continuing struggle," someone writes, "for Black artists to break through media suppression, do you see parallel lessons and strategies for connecting marginalized communities, such as LGBTQ+ community narratives, along with the struggle in Texas around free speech in universities, along with Palestinian issues and other issues around land?"
How might this, in some ways-- how might Baldwin and Giovanni's solidarity with transnational movements inform strategies for art and activism?
PAUL CATO: I think their strategy, and if you watch the entire conversation-- if someone would like to contact me, I can share the YouTube link to it-- you'll see they are reiterating points that are just already true. And I think that's part of this, the beauty of this Black optimism. It very much is, let's just be commonsensical here and pragmatic. So that aspect is going through, and I remember seeing in so many of the different protests and demonstrations that have taken place in the past two to three years reflecting these political issues that transcend race or engage with the trans community or having to do with Palestine in Gaza.
That already is going through. We see the music, we see the engagement through that. I've learned new artists because that stuff has happened. And that is one thing I love about my people. We have always created and found new opportunities to go and manifest. Just go and look at the fact that if you just look at the National Museum of African-American History and Culture, the building itself is a commentary on slavery because the angles of the building that are triangular are the same angle size as the Washington Monument and their tilt on the side, so that no matter where you look at the museum, you will always see the Washington Monument being tilted on its side as a critique of American democracy.
We see that beautiful, influential critique and subversiveness in so much Palestinian artwork and so much work that's coming from the trans community constantly forcing us to reimagine even Blackness. And I think that's the aspect that come through. Let's go do this human creative work. We're always going to have capacity to go love one another and love ourselves and think through it. And that's the mechanism.
I think very many people want a strategy, a policy level. I don't think that's what really is needed, because we know a lot of these institutions are failing. Why not be Black Americans who have always known, we got to go figure out something on our own outside the context. And I think that is one reason why I'm seeing such a Renaissance and appreciation for Black political thought in the past 10 years, because now we have social groups that are coming out, queer people, women of color, people of Latin descent who are now questioning their racial identity and so forth, realizing, let's take this Black approach. Let's just be honest in ourselves, and we'll see this as a political power that works sometimes better than going and lobbying our congressmen.
The easiest way to scare a politician is to be oneself and show that you don't care that they're going to critique you because the politician, their job is to go and flip and be performative to go fit their voters so as long to get-- oh, I sound like Nikki right now. Yeah, so that's my response to that. We just gotta be ourselves. And it sounds naive, but it's not.
That loving willingness to be yourself will go shock other people and scare them so much that they will force to be questioning themselves in their behavior, because it's a matter of common sense and just treating people with respect.
TERRENCE JOHNSON: Great. Thank you, Dr. Paul Cato, visiting scholar at Providence College. We really appreciate you joining us today, friends. Thank you all for joining us. And this concludes our conversation.
If you're in town in Cambridge, March 26 or 27, please join us for our conference called "Capital, Conscience, and Knowledge-- Religion and the Common Good in a Market-Driven Society," where we will really look at the role of endowments in shaping conversations and debates around the future of higher education, around power and authority. So really excited for this conversation because it will bring together some interesting conversation partners, ranging from scholars who are economists, as well as those who are in private equity, folks who manage endowments, and as well as humanists who are thinking through these big issues.
So please look at our website, RPL at HDS, for more information and can contact us, and we hope that you will join us. Thank you, again, and have a wonderful day.
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