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Every year, the True/False Film Fest brings dozens of documentary filmmakers, artists, and innovative music acts. These series of conversations are in-depth interviews with those involved.

True/False Conversations: Class is in session at the 'TCB: Toni Cade Bambara School of Organizing'

Toni Cade Bambara faces the camera but looks down and to the left, resting her arms on a metal bar. She's crouching, although you can only see the top portion of her body. The photo is black and white, and it is from a photoshoot.
Courtesy of Monica Henriquez and Louis Massiah
Toni Cade Bambara was a writer, filmmaker, organizer and teacher. She is known for short story collections like Gorilla, My Love, novels like The Salt Eaters, and documentaries like The Bombing of Osage Avenue.

This story is part of True/False Conversations, a series of in-depth interviews with the filmmakers of this year’s True/False Film Fest.  Find the full series here.

Filmmakers Monica Henriquez and Louis Massiah recollect the life and lessons of longtime colleague Toni Cade Bambara in their new film, TCB: The Toni Cade Bambara School of Organizing, screening at True/False this weekend.

All Bambara’s work in all its forms – whether writing, filmmaking, teaching, or organizing – was founded on community-rooted, people-first practices.

Decades in the making, directors Henriquez and Massiah mix archival footage of Bambara with interviews from those who shared her dedication to shaping a better world, including the voices of Toni Morrison, Nikky Finney and Haile Gerime. These intimate conversations introduce us to the Bambara who donned mini-skirts and greeted her colleagues with “Hey, sister.”

KBIA’s Scout Hudson spoke with the filmmakers about TCB: The Toni Cade Bambara School of Organizing, and how the film’s distinctive name came in part from Bambara’s activism. Here's an excerpt from their conversation.

Monica Henriquez: I think it has to do with her, with Toni's, activism. But not only Toni's activism, although that's what it sounds — the way that I saw it was really a kind of biography of ideas. She had a lot of catch phrases or ways in which different generations of women — Black American women, but also [women] widely — they can relate. And they have to do with different areas of life, whether it’s feminism, whether it's community, whether it’s health. From what I gather, Louis wanted that kind of wide sense of what organizing can be.

Toni Cade Bambara is candidly photographed sitting at a restaurant table, looking to the left and holding a cigarette in her right hand. She wears a black tank top, statement necklace, and yellow headscarf.
Courtesy of Monica Henriquez and Louis Massiah
Louis Massiah met Toni Cade Bambara in Philadelphia in 1986, later introducing her to Monica Henriquez.

I thought it just worked with the times and just worked as a kind of vehicle for embracing a dialogue with one that is no longer with us. But it’s really a dialogue with so many different generations of women that were close to her, their ideas about her. And Toni herself, her voice — the idea of organizing, for me, is a very wide and a very, kind of, non-regulated, let’s say, much more human and expansive notion, which I think she shared. So I guess that’s what I would say.

Hudson: So much of this film focuses on Toni’s role as an educator, and I was kind of curious how it felt to you two? To now be assuming some of that role as an educator trying to teach a larger public about her life, about her philosophies. How did that feel to engage with her concept, with her pedagogy of teaching?

Massiah: It was very much through Toni that I understood that teaching is cultural work. It is part of the same thrust as using film as a way of organizing communities.

Hudson: What do you think is so resonant about Toni Cade Bambara’s legacy?

Henriquez: Basic ideas. I mean basic ... notions of her[s] to do with struggle, to do with Blackness that I found — rather than limiting to race, or limiting to sex or gender or something like that – very expansive and very, you know, she was like a real opener of doors, rather than closing doors, or an inward-looking person. And that seemed extremely attractive to me, and extremely profound.

So many people want to chop the world into little segments so that we can consume it. Whereas, I think, she really had a very much more global — but from the community, you know, so grounded — but expansive [approach]. That was very profound.

Scout Hudson is a student journalist in the KBIA newsroom.
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