♪♪ Welcome to "The First Twenty."

I'm James King.

Choreographer and dancer Hope Boykin's "Beauty" is focused on that word -- one of the definitions of aesthetic.

Who's been given permission to decide what is beautiful and who is beautiful compared to any or everything else?

This continued journey with the truth of Hope's mirror is struggling to come to light in her life, her craft, and her love for the art of dance, a journey she feels will never end.

We hope you enjoy.

♪♪ ♪♪ ♪♪ ♪♪ Boykin: Listen to me when I tell you and ask you this so clearly and plainly, plainly ask you.

Have you any idea what it is like living life as a Black woman?

Well, lately, the life I've lived or striving to thrive is one often reminding me that better than best is the only way forward.

Better than best.

But not angry or aggressive.

Loud, demonstrative, forceful.

Eager.

Not too eager.

Determined.

Proud.

Did I say loud?

Loud of a voice to make sure and remind you that I am simply standing here as a human.

As a human woman, as a human Black woman, as a human, dark skinned Black woman.

As a human Black, bald, dark skinned woman who never before had to be reminded to remind you that I am all of those.

These attributes because attributing glory and beauty to all of my specific and particular humanity is now necessary.

To work, to create and thrive, to be best, better than better.

I check off so many boxes as this specific and particular human.

I am almost trending.

♪♪ My name is Hope Boykin, and I am a deep, dark chocolatey... ...graying slightly, usually keep my head bald woman, about 5'2", extremely curvy right now.

The front, the side and the back.

Crackling bones and good intentions.

So I wanted and needed to hear from other women dancers, educators, artists, musicians, filmmakers, those in fashion, advocates for others, I needed to hear their stories, their struggles and successes.

When I think about what's changed in the first 20 years of this century, I really do see that in some way, shape, or form or fashion, people are outwardly accepting a more diverse sense of self.

We see it more in the media.

Goosby: You know, we see so many images out there, and ironically enough, I work in fashion, so I'm contributing to those images.

When I say I'm contributing to, you know, beauty and fashion, it's the people that we shoot and the subjects that we cover.

And because I work in fashion, I am, you know, part of the idea that's being perpetuated of what beauty is and who we find beautiful.

What we see on television is what the people with power and people with money value, what people with power and people with money feel is important.

What we see in the media, those who can provide space for messages to be plastered on billboards and, you know, 30-second ads and 60-second ads, like, those people want to change the narrative.

Because fashion has been an industry that, you know, for the most part, it's geared towards white women and a certain shape of a white woman.

You know, it's only been in the last few years that, you know, darker skinned women are celebrated, different body types are being celebrated.

As a filmmaker I'm really genre inspired.

So I like making kind of sci-fi narratives, narratives about Black people in the future, narratives that showcase our majesty and our regality.

So that is, I think, something that is a main from a visual perspective, something that's like a mission of mine.

And all the work that I make is to create powerful images of Black people that reflect how I view about, how I feel about Black people, right?

Being magical and majestic and regal and godly to a certain extent.

And I think there's a lack of representation that depicts that.

There's a lot of stereotypical representation when it comes to the ways we're allowed to be as Black people.

There's a lack of diversity even within the way that we showcase what it means to be a Black person on screen.

So how can we renegotiate and force a change of narrative when we don't have enough resource to do the plastering of a billboard?

And to me, and I want to be clear, this is what I believe, me, I believe this to be true.

That beauty goes far beyond what we can see.

True beauty is really foundational.

The strength, the endurance is from in to out, not only from what someone of 100 years ago or whomever ago decided, but now, what is beauty right now?

♪♪ I was in a conversation with a friend, and she made a comment, "Well, the aesthetic is the aesthetic is."

And I was like, "Let me look up what this word is."

I know what I think it means.

And I felt like I knew what she meant in the context of our conversation.

But one of the definitions of "aesthetic" is "concerned with beauty."

That's it.

Concerned with beauty.

Now, aesthetic is also what someone else's pleasure is, what they like, what they dislike, all in one thing.

You know, like, I am aesthetically chocolate.

I love chocolate things.

I love chocolate chip cookies or cake.

You know what I'd mean?

That might be my palettes' aesthetic.

It's really not about the taste, but it's about this conglomerate of things that you could put in a line.

So of course, in ballet, there's this swan aesthetic, right?

All the swans need to look alike.

I understand that.

Designers see their clothes hanging on certain bodies.

That's their personal aesthetic.

I absolutely get it.

And that is one of the definitions.

But to have it say, "concerned with beauty", and that's supposed to be enough, that's enough validity for someone to say, "This is my --" It's kind of -- I'm kind of confused by it.

So I said, "Okay, well, who chooses the aesthete?"

The aesthete is the person who decides what the aesthetic is.

So as an aesthete, I should be my person, my pointing my finger to say, "This is the beauty I'm concerned with."

♪♪ ♪♪ ♪♪ ♪♪ ♪♪ The aesthete is the person who decides what the aesthetic is.

So as an aesthete, I should be my person, my pointing my finger to say, "This is the beauty I'm concerned with."

But we don't.

We listen to the person that looks the least like us.

We listen to people who sit in boardrooms and decide.

We listen to government saying, "It should be like --" Like, we listen to other people's idea of what their ideal is.

But if you take the "L" off, it's just an idea, which could change.

We could morph it if we just wanted to.

Frazier: I've had these conversations with friends because, you know, for my friends, it's common for us to talk about our bodies and how we look, and we all look very different.

And I would say that, like, for me, God made us unique, you know, he made you, you for a reason.

And the body that you're in is specifically suited for the purpose that you have in your life.

It's hard not to compare, especially today with social media and stuff, it's very hard not to compare.

But I try to tell other people, like, "Be present where you are right now," and that's good enough, you know?

And quite frankly, being told that I might be too dark skinned to be on stage, I made the switch, but I made the switch because I was bitten by the arts in another way.

I realized the power of actually owning and having control of what's produced rather than just being on stage and being told what to produce.

We are who we are because we are so powerful, beyond measure.

Beyond measure, that we are a threat.

Our beauty is in our Blackness.

And no one can take that away from us as much as we are oppressed by it, by people who are afraid of our power.

If we could get beyond having to line ourselves up to the boxes and just be allowed to be who we are.

Smith: Figure out what that is, not rubbed up against anything else or anyone else, but find out who you are.

And I think part of that is being able to relinquish other people's belief systems.

How do we hold space to allow others to shine and be beautiful?

How do we hold space when we have friends and family that indirectly send us messaging?

So sometimes when family members or friends say something to us, they're coming from their own space and their own pain, and they project that on to you.

Colorism was heavy in my family, so I call myself chocolate, but my family called me dark, and so I had to change the terminology.

So now I'm not dark, I'm chocolate, but I heard even from the mouths of my family that I was ugly and that I would always be ugly.

So I would wake up.

I started a practice of waking up in the morning and telling myself that I am beautiful, I am beautiful.

And so it's not easy for me to say, "I am beautiful" or to take the compliment because for a long time, I've heard that, "You're ugly," like straight out.

And so it's taken a lot to like -- that was their hurt and that was their pain that they were throwing on to me because of things that they hadn't dealt with.

And that's not me.

I am Lay'la, and I am beautiful.

Whether I'm confused, happy, sad, crying, I am beautiful in all states and shades that I am in.

♪♪ ♪♪ Boykin: One of the hardest things... One of the hardest things to talk about is why it's so difficult for me to move beyond this past that's been I've been carrying.

And I don't often think people understand that what we hear as a child, what we grow up with, is the thing that we keep for the longest.

You know, before we learn how to add and subtract, someone has told us that 2 plus 2 is 4.

So the person that told us 2 plus 2 was 4, our parents, our teachers, you know, the people in the front of the room, they've told us, so they're the authority so we believe them.

So we believe 2 plus 2 is 4.

Then we start to realize because we see two apples and two oranges, that we have four things.

And then we say, "Oh, without a shadow of a doubt, if I see four pens on the table, those are four pens."

Like, I don't question that.

So when I hear I'm Black, and black is tar baby or asphalt or all of these things that are derogative and derogatory, like my feelings for these words make me feel that the thing that I learned, my 2 plus 2 is 4, that I was taught means something's not right with me, something is different, something could be better, something could be more beautiful.

But this is all I am.

♪♪ ♪♪ Have you ever noticed or paid attention to the fact that in what we call old Hollywood, the ingénues that were Black, these women's features were absolutely beautiful, but they were light-skinned.

And if there were dark-skinned actresses in movies, they were maids, maids or slaves.

Hmm.

♪♪ Being this color...

...I struggled for a really long time.

♪♪ ♪♪ The pandemic is hitting, we're all at home trying to figure things out.

George Floyd is killed, and the entire world sees it.

And because the entire world sees it, there's a different kind of weight put on what it means to be Black.

So people start showing their solidarity and magazine covers start being filled with Black models, and online websites pull down everything and put up everybody.

That means they already had the information.

Everything was already stored.

Okay, not everything, but a lot of things were already there.

They just weren't being used until someone tapped you on the shoulder, or your heartstrings were pulled.

And you said, "Look at this atrocity.

We can do something about it."

But before, you didn't notice.

You know, it was petite, tall, plus.

Now it's petite, tall, plus, curvy, wavy, you know, only like now you want to be accepting of it.

When I think about today, I think that, you know, it's wonderful to a certain degree that we're seeing these very dark skinned women on the runways.

But there's also something to that because the idea of how beauty from the diaspora is deemed is still through whiteness, right?

Because right now whiteness is dictating what we deem beautiful, and, you know, every so often, from the fashion industry, and even now in the art world we're in, and I still think of it as the commodifying of the Black body to a certain degree.

I'm not sure there'll ever be enough change because I think, let's examine the words that are used to talk about change today.

We talk about equality.

Now, we are living in a space where things are equal.

But are they equitable?

No, I don't think it's enough.

I think there should never be a cap.

Like, there's it's never enough until it's equal.

But, you know, we live in such a diverse world.

What is then equal?

Haven't you ended up like, you know, you've done enough, right?

Like, take what you've got now.

And it's like, "No, I want it now."

Now.

Like, the time is now.

And we keep saying the time is now.

People are saying they're going to do it.

They're going to be more diverse.

They're going to post on social media.

They're going to say all of these things.

And it goes up to the point, and then it falls right back down.

And they may not feel like it's falling down, but if it continues, if it doesn't continue to grow, then the ball is rolling backwards.

Because then we've got to get it back to this place that it was already, but then it rolls back.

Then we've got to push back.

And it's this constant, constant push.

When am I going to find and define who this person is?

And, you know, I am more uncomfortable in this body than I've ever been.

But this is the body that someone says, "Oh, it's so beautiful.

Oh, it's so soft.

Oh, it's so sexy.

Oh, it's so..." And I'm thinking to myself, "This is jiggly here.

This is falling there.

This is, you know, I see more grays every day."

I'm trying to figure out why my legs don't come together because my knees are acting -- Like, all of these things that feel like breaking down and someone else is knocking on my door saying, "I love that."

You know, I still think I'm learning, still discovering.

I'm going through these waves.

[ Laughs ] Going through these waves and these ebbs and flows in life.

And I feel there's beauty in ebb and flow.

And it comes in different ways to me.

I appreciate the wisdom that my body has now.

It's much wiser.

My mind is much wiser.

The body itself, physically, I'm trying to keep it... [ Laughs ] ...together.

I'm trying to keep it together.

[ Laughs ] I look I look back on pictures of myself five years ago, and everything is toned, as toned as my body can be.

And yet mentally, I remember being like, "Why can't I just cut off two more inches here?

And why can't my feet point a little bit more?"

Da-da-da-da-da.

Still, you know, mentally beating myself up.

Now, my body is not that toned, but I feel more beautiful now.

I feel more accepting of my body now.

And I feel like it'll do whatever I want if I put in the work.

Thompson: So I got my master's degree in public health and my doctoral degree in public health and so I was actually a print journalism major and a theater arts minor.

But I at the time, the African burial ground, if you're familiar with the African burial ground, it's the remains of enslaved Africans in New York City.

So it's an 18th century burial ground.

And the remains were at Howard University because they were analyzing them.

And what you can learn from biological anthropology is how people died, how people lived.

You can study the remains of bones.

And what stood out to me were kind of the same -- like some of the health conditions Black people are suffering from today.

So the reason you probably see me running regularly is because I'm thinking about my body, I'm thinking about my weight.

And as I age, how am I going to continue to manage this?

Am I going to be able to continue to run, walk.

I don't know.

I think I just feel like my shape, I think I'm full in the places that I need to be, that I would love to be full in.

And because of that, if I gain a little bit weight in my stomach, I'm able to kind of pass it off because I'm full in the places I need to be full, so... [ Laughs ] I think it's just me trying to find the confidence from within, you know, appreciating things from like my lips to my nose, like things that, like, obviously they're fuller than most, but like I can point those back to like these are attributes from my mom, or like I see, you know, my cheekbones from my grandmother, you know, my smile from my grandmother, my eyes from my other grandmother.

You know, like these are just things that I find that were parts of them that were beautiful, that I'm piecing together those parts of myself that will make me feel beautiful.

I feel my most beautiful when I'm in costume, on stage, dancing in front of a crowd.

Live performance, there's nothing like live performance.

I guess that is the advantage of being a performer.

I can always tap into that, that source.

The moments when I am on stage, just being who I am with my instrument, I've learned over the years that that's a statement in and of itself.

And I didn't fully grasp that.

But every time, even if I'm just holding my case, someone always asks, "You play that?

You can play that?

Whoa, you do that?"

And because those questions are being asked, I'm like, "Okay, it's important that I'm here."

And I think what I can do now, why I think it's important is that when I'm working with artists, when I'm working, whether they're musicians, dancers, visual artists, whoever it is, who look like me, I feel like it's important that we're not only in front of the camera, but that we're behind the camera, too, that we're in all parts of where the art is being created because it creates safe spaces.

It just allows, at least for me, just to be like, you know, something just to relax your shoulders a little bit, don't have to put on.

♪♪ ♪♪ Boykin: I have recently been creating work and teaching some classes here and there and asking dancers to come and spend some time with me.

Oh, you know, I like your energy.

I'm workshopping, you know, some projects.

Would you like to come in and help me make something?

There's nothing that's going to come from it except I get to go to my next commission prepared.

And here come all of these different types of people.

All of these different types of bodies, all of these different types of artists walking in just something, you know, as a pun, a little bit of hope.

And that's my job now.

Not to perform, but to inform.

Not to show, but to share what I have to -- what I've learned, to share the knowledge that I have been given and then make the path wider for people who may have a difficulty.

And maybe those are young white women, maybe those are young white men.

Maybe they're people who, who come from another country and don't speak English first.

Maybe it's for everybody.

But until I reach out and seek and let people know how beautiful they are in their own right.

Remind them, not let them know.

Just to remind them, this is exactly how you were made.

This is exactly how God made you.

Perfectly and wonderfully built.

♪♪ ♪♪ Odufu: If I was to define beauty for me, it's like how your light radiates, right?

Like that inner glow that you have, how it's able to shine through in different spaces is how I -- why I think I'm beautiful.

Frazier: And I whole heartedly believe that I am light.

Odufu: When I see it, I'm like, "Oh, that's beautiful."

And then when I feel the essence behind it, it either makes it more beautiful or maybe less beautiful.

Thompson: Pretty is skin deep.

Ugly is to the bone.

Who we are from the inside out is the person that we really are.

Doors were open just for me.

I watch people around me move and be told, this didn't work, that doesn't work, this doesn't look right, and that doesn't look right, but I was kept, I stayed.

I endured for a long period of time, even when I started to really feel uncomfortable and really shift, get older, you know, question what was beautiful.

So I'm searching to find new language so that people who are with me, people who are in creative spaces with me feel like the last thing they need to worry about is what I feel about their presentation.

♪♪ ♪♪ Even when I don't feel beautiful, I know I am.

Way down deep, I know I am.

I am my most beautiful me all day, every day.

[ Laughs ] And I know it's true, because nobody else can be me but me, period.

[ Laughs ] So every day, I check to see the changes, the differences from the before Hope to today's Hope.

The Hope for right now, the Hope that is right now.

This Hope is older, graying, aching, sometimes sad, but truly, always hopeful.

I like to say I am always full of hope for what I can do for whomever is next, who comes after me, and who may need to hear why working and pressing forward is worth it.

Because as I've said over and over again, beauty goes far beyond what we can see.

♪♪ ♪♪ ♪♪ ♪♪