Stereotypes Celebrating Black Anime Fans at Anime NYC
by Sahtrese McQueenAnime NYC is the biggest anime convention in New York City. It’s chock-full of anime nerds from across the country (hell, maybe even the world!) who come to indulge in our favorite Japan-centric content; it’s anime, cosplay, manga, art, and fandoms all in one. Anime NYC wasn’t my first rodeo; I’d been to the Liberty City Anime Con from 20172018 (before all doors closed in 2020), and both years were like a fever dream to me. At Liberty City there was beautiful art, and all my favorite characters walking right by me – it was like being a kid in a candy store.
However, it was overwhelmingly obvious then that not many “skinfolk” were dressing up as their favorite characters – or had panels oriented around our interests in this larger community, let alone being featured in any. As the years have flown by, and as Black interest in this area has grown, we’ve absolutely created a larger space for each other and accepted each other for what we are: good old-fashioned weebs. As the 21-year-old I am now, I was hoping for a smoother experience at Anime NYC due to how we’ve progressed over the years. And I have to say, I was pretty pleasantly surprised!
From the start, I was fairly excited about the weekend ahead. The panels were promising, and I was chattin’ on social media about all the Black cosplayers I had the pleasure of seeing. Something about seeing Black people fully embracing their interests and glowing in their aura as they walked the convention halls just had me cheesin’. (And, you know, the sexy adventurers’ outfits they were wearing didn’t hurt, either.)
Kinks and Curls Panel
The first panel I attended was “Kinks and Curls, Ethnic Hair in Cosplay’’, hosted by cosplayers Michael Allen (@venture__bros/ IG), Chris Carthern (@cosplaybyshinobi/IG), Yesenia Moises (@yeseniadraws/IG), and moderated by Vanta Black (@vantacreates/ IG). The room was a bit smaller than the other panel rooms, and MUCH further away from the remainder of the convention rooms. I almost got lost on my way there, since the larger main rooms were ALL next to each other - I’d passed by that hallway maybe four times before turning the right corner and scurrying into my seat. As the convention continued on, I’d start to get real familiar with that small, corner room-of-shame, but more on that later.
The room was full of POCs, listening intently to the panelists as they shared quips and quirks about their cosplaying experience. The panelists took on a range of questions from Vanta and then audience members towards the end, giving the newbies a bit of help on the right way to style a locked wig for a Gojo “loc”-splay (shoutout to Michael Allen for the baller wordplay here). I loved how the conversation veered into how Black hair is presented in Hollywood, too, outside of cosplay. For example, if the design and effort are low-quality in film, who do we look up to for inspiration?
Poster of “Solo Leveling” at the Jacob K. Javits Convention Center during AnimeNYC weekend | (Photo Credit/Sahtrese McQueen) From left to right: Michael Allen (@venture__bros/IG), Chris Carthern (@cosplaybyshinobi/IG), Yesenia Moises (@yeseniadraws/IG), Vanta Black (@vantacreates/IG) | Photo Credit/Sahtrese McQueenAfter the panel finished, Anime NYC quickly kicked everyone out in preparation for the next panel (and every panel in that room since it was pretty booked with random niche-event topics). But, I connected with some of the panel members later. I wanted to see how the “Blerd” circle feels about the community around them, so I decided to interview anyone who wanted to talk about it.
Panelist Chris Cartharn (cosplaying as (Invincible’s Bulletproof) has been cosplaying since 2017 and has dedicated so much to this passion in the anime community that he’s co-produced a Black animation project called Captain Zero. He mentioned some of his favorite things in the Black anime community: “I love it. I love being a part of a community and creating support groups, building real friendships over the fandoms we have in common, and showing our creativity. I like including things such as our natural hair and taking on our own interpretations of characters we connect with. We need more representation because we are a part of this world, and art should reflect that.”
I also caught Invincible’s Omni-man (panelist Michael Allen) on the way out. He, too, was on the panel; he’s been watching anime for 28 years and cosplayed for seven. He shared his tips and tricks for styling natural hair (I mean, seriously, the Aizawa locs went too well with his character…) and how he’s felt about being Black in the anime community. “I feel we deal with racism from everyone who isn’t Black. It’s almost like they don’t want us to like anime.” This isn’t a foreign feeling; repeatedly, I ran into people who were enjoying the convention but had comments on how we’re treated and viewed as anime fans. It made me think that maybe how we experience conventions isn’t about the convention itself but how we’re treated as a whole in the anime community.
Michael Allen (right) and Chris Carthern at AnimeNYC Day One | Photo Credit/@cosplaysbyshinobi/IG)I’d venture into another panel that surprised me with a topic I wasn’t as aware of: “Anime Inspired Hip-Hop Creating Culture and Community,” with panelists like rapper Shao Dow, entrepreneur Stan “Substantial” Robinson, DJ Chris Cardwell, and moderated by Hilton George. The panel discussed what motivations and inspirations they’ve garnered through anime. The host of this panel, Blerdcon (Black Nerd Convention) founder Hilton George, was pretty active all weekend –jumping from one corner of the convention to another. It was obvious that they were working with Anime NYC to further bring Black nerds together. I wasn’t aware of Blerdcon until this weekend, but Hilton always had a smile on his face when we caught each other in passing.
The panelists spoke on various topics, slightly veering from the main topic (as usual) to discuss the larger conversation: being Black and navigating the world (especially in a space that has made us feel excluded). “There was not this unified community of people that felt comfortable coming together -- you know, forty, fifty people doing Black Panther cosplays, and coming in and lobbying to have representation on the stage ...
Having Black artists on stages at non-Black events is a relatively new thing, even in the nerd space. And we’re making this progress because people got up at eight o’clock in the morning, fought traffic, to come here and have this conversation.” Hilton would lament, and it was true: The more attention we brought to these panels, the more it proved how we longed for a space where we could all relate with one another.
Shao Dow, an award-winning rapper from the UK well-known for his music mixes between English and Japanese, was another panelist and has been an anime lover for around 20 years. He’s familiar with the days when being a young Black boy into anime was “considered weird,” but now he feels it’s weirder not to be into anime. Of the changes he’s seen and the Black representation he has (and hasn’t!) witnessed, I got to ask him how he feels about how Black people are represented in anime.
“I would hate for, you know, Black people to be added into anime in a false, kind of ‘pandering to the masses’ type thing. I think it needs to be natural ...
We come to realize that POC have never had a space in this world. Which is why, in turn, white people begin to question why we take up space with our cosplays, and our interests in anime.”
I like to see people in characters who look like me in my favorite things, but I don’t want it to be forced or shoehorned in ... And the thing with cosplay that I absolutely love is Black people, Asian people, etc. are cosplaying as their favorite characters who don’t share their skin color but are doing it in their own way. I like to see that.” From discussing how sometimes the Black community can exclude us first because our interests deviate towards what’s considered atypical to the substantial dropping knowledge on Black organizations and conflict resolution through hip-hop culture, I felt my perspective expand a bit on our relationship with the genre and how we interact with other spaces through this medium. It was a good way to start the day!
Cosplaying as a POC Panel
Arriving at my next panel, “Cosplaying as a POC” (the most interesting panel for me), I started noticing a pattern. Most of these “alternative” panels discussing being a POC or Blerd ended up in the same room, where there was either just enough space or not at all. I wasn’t going to let this ruin my enjoyment of the panels, but it was something that I paid attention to for the rest of the weekend. (The panel I attended after this one, “Blerd and Powerful,” would also be held in this room.)
“Cosplaying as a POC” shifted my thoughts. The conversation somehow articulated ideas veiled underneath these discussions, waiting to be addressed. Everyone in the room was very vocal -- talking in depth about how
Panel describing Classic Black Anime Characters during Anime NYC Weekend | Photo by Sahtrese McQueenit’s difficult to list off POC characters on TV and how our default “hero” being male and white deems anything else a deviation, always making them “representation.” And everyone groaned when the slide about Twitter (#itwillneverbeX) complaining about Starfire’s character being Black in 2018 came up despite her being a literal alien. It came to a head for me when discussing POC inside of the context of anime -- and one fan’s thoughts ring in my head, even now. Sarah-Anne brought up a fair point that anime has never focused on creating a holistic perspective for POC outside of white people and those who are Japanese; it’s a constructional issue, one where these worlds are only made to celebrate whiteness and look down on Blackness. How much anime takes the time to genuinely care for character creation and accuracy within the scope of a Black, Latino, or South Asian body? Compare this to the main characters, who are white, and we come to realize that POCs have never had a space in this world.
This is why, in turn, people begin to question why we take up space with our cosplays and our interests in anime. It’s why white people don’t get nearly the same pushback when taking on a Japanese character’s cosplay as other POCs do. From the start, we’ve all had one image regulated to us. So, now that a new image in the form of POC cosplayers has emerged, there’s a sense of change that results in unwarranted attacks. I’m not going to lie; my mind was kind of blown. It had always been in my mind but never articulated until it was discussed at this panel. I had a lovely chat with Sarah-Anne after this panel, in which I found she was studying this topic and had so much to share. Again, I found comfort in these conversations with the surrounding community. I felt a sense of understanding in someone who knew what existing as a Black woman in the anime community was like but wanted to figure out how the system worked so it could be changed.
Blerd and Powerful Panel
“Blerd and Powerful” told a similar story, with each panelist coming to represent a brand or Black convention. They all chatted about the desire to make things within our community and to keep them for our community – how important it is to support Black-owned, Black-nerd, and Black-represented things because it prompts more of what we need from Hollywood and beyond. By this time, I saw more familiar faces, and walking around the convention felt nicer. I know that other cosplayers and fans were walking the convention with kindred experiences.
From left to right: Hilton George, Jason Richardson, Demetrius Holt, and Tony Weaver Jr. | Photo by Sahtrese McQueenHip-Hop and Anime Soundtracks Panel
On Sunday, there were only a couple of events Anime NYC had to offer oriented around Black topics -- but it was an early ending day, so I was simultaneously excited for these last few panels and excited to go home and reminisce on the experience. The one that stood out was a closing event and felt like a big finale: “Hip-Hop and Anime Soundtracks” with Paranom and Aztech from Hybrid Thoughts, who are some of the most featured hip-hop artists in anime soundtracks (Jujutsu Kaisen, Beastars, Sakugan, etc.). This was their second year at Anime NYC, and when I say the room was packed, I mean I’d never seen good ole’ Panel Room Five so full (and I think Paranom would agree since he reposted my comment about it)! So many came to hear these two chat about what it’s like to make hip-hop for anime soundtracks and how they’ve come to this point in their careers.
It was great to see how much attention this panel got, and I wish it were held in a room to accommodate the people who were interested. This makes me hope that next year, there can be an opportunity for some of these panels to be held in a larger room. Paranom, who’d been introduced to music at a young age through his mother’s youth choir and has been making it for over 20 years, felt the same gratitude in embracing this “nerdy” side of himself. “I love that Black people have found more things to connect with, being that sometimes it’s hard to feel connected to those so-called ‘weird’ parts, or even authentic parts of ourselves living in this society. We kind of find escape and something that resembles a thing we can connect to at the same time.” I was interested in knowing what this means from his perspec-
Aztech and I are the most featured hiphop artists of all time in anime – and success to me would include that status not only being acknowledged and celebrated, but open doors for us to have more input and say into how hip-hop is represented in anime.”
(Paranom, 2024)
From left to right: Aztech, Shao Dow, and Paranom posing for a photo | Photo by Shao Dow, Instagramtive -- being Black and eminent as a hip-hop anime artist -- and how it falls unto the community surrounding him. He said, “To be Black and successful in this space would be for me to be able to hire another Black person to work on an anime soundtrack, with no red tape or micromanagement. Aztech and I are the most featured hip-hop artists of all time in anime – and success to me would include that status not only being acknowledged and celebrated, but open doors for us to have more input and say into how hip-hop is represented in anime. Success to me would be compensation for the mutual benefit of the utilization of my cultural background and unique expertise and artistry, instead of being used for a product in a corporate model that doesn’t pay the people who use huge efforts to make each anime up to the great standard we want them to be in every aspect.”
With this, I would shut my notebook and enjoy the last of Crunchyroll’s new releases and Artist’s Alley before closing up shop myself, being left to reflect on the weekend that flew by me.
Anime NYC: The Black Experience
Between all of the panels rang one thing: At the end of the day, Black people will create spaces for us to gather and thrive in. There is still a lot to be done (and undone) in our community, but chatting with so many Black cosplayers, convention CEOs, artists, and Blerds made me feel a sense of belonging -- which comes down to the community more than the convention itself. I adore Anime NYC for all the panels held, but the organizers and panelists still proposed the idea. All Anime NYC had to do was okay the event.
This leaves me to look at this not really for the contents of the panels but for the handling of the events. As mentioned, our hidden little Panel, Room Five, hosted most of the minority-centric panels I visited this weekend. Once a panel concluded, we were rushed out while many of the other, bigger panel rooms were empty as I walked by. I get testing out a panel for the first year or two warrants a smaller space, but there could’ve been a great opportunity here to give these panels a chance in the main area. They could have garnered greater attention from those who weren’t aware of the panel but were interested. Most of these rooms weren’t being used the few times I walked by, but some panels in Panel Room Five made convention-goers squeeze in. This was my main gripe for the weekend, so let’s hope that Anime NYC will have a better space to fit their audiences’ interests next year.
By this time, I saw more familiar faces, and walking around the convention felt nicer. I knew that other cosplayers and fans were walking the convention with kindred experiences.”
Otherwise, the panels had amazing speakers, and I truly felt like I received a lot of insight over these three days, not just from my own experience but from so many other Black fans -- the good, homey feelings and the bad, isolating ones. It was all put out there. More than the convention itself, I did appreciate how many panels revolved around Black people within this space.
Overall, I’d give Anime NYC a solid 7/10! Whether it was dancing to Blerdcon’s music at a booth, running into groups of other Black anime fans and talking with them,
or starting a dance circle in the middle of a pavilion to the iCarly theme song, we always seem to gravitate towards each other. In the smiles and the compliments, it’s good to feel recognized at a place where you’re showing a true version of yourself, and I’m glad Anime NYC had a hand in that.
So, I’ll see you next year, Anime NYC! (And let’s shoot for a couple more events in the bigger panel room this time, yeah?)
Being Black is addressing not just the topic at hand, but the root of the problem - and the panels at Anime NYC showed me repeatedly how we always try solving the full issue over a just part of the puzzle.”
Bringing MMA To The Manga World
Underground Vol. 1 Review
by Mzati BandaSports manga and anime have come a long way from the days of Ashita no Joe. Haikyu!! is beloved by volleyball and non-volleyball enthusiasts alike and I am very excited for the movie on the way. Blue Lock took over the world when the anime was released. The soccer anime was all that people could talk about during its release, particularly since the World Cup was on, and it, too, has been slated for a movie. Boxing, volleyball, soccer, golf, tennis, and many other sports have manga, but what about MMA? As a fervent follower of the UFC, I haven’t found a manga that scratches the MMA itch: enter Underground.
I was so happy to see my editor send me this, especially off the high of UFC 297. Underground is a gritty, character-driven revenge story by JRamaManga that takes place in the underground fight scene of New York. Karim Yun, an up-and-coming kickboxing hotshot, has his career effectively stopped by a nasty injury administered by Van Boucher. Once Karim recovers with the remaining fight he has in his broken body, he intends to return the favor to Van Boucher. As a UFC fan, I hate when fights go to a decision; thankfully, the knockout is the only path to victory in the underground. The premise of this manga is everything I want it to be, but let’s see if Underground punches its way into the sports manga pantheon. (Slight spoilers ahead.)
Underground Art Style
I’m starting with what I like because Underground passes the proverbial eye test. The eye test essentially refers to an athlete who looks like they belong; in this case, it refers to the art. Underground is wonderful to look at through and through. It shines the most for me in the action sequences. JR draws his characters with weight and gravity, making their fight sequences feel like you are a bystander in the world he’s created.
Characters sit down on punches, shift weight to block, and chamber kicks in a way that looks real. The way JR renders light makes it feel like they’re in a living world, adding to immersion. The art is realistic, but it is not boring by any means.
The excellent use of speed lines and effects enhances the realism without overwhelming it. Many sports mangaka overuse speed lines, making the characters appear as though they are in hyperspace. JR finds the perfect balance here. The effect of wind as a punch goes by is not One Punch Man level, but you know it’s a punch you would want to avoid.
There are visual metaphors, too, that are not too gaudy. We see Karim being metaphorically chained as he fights, elevating a fight scene from just punches being thrown to a big narrative moment. I also really appreciated the Mortal Kombat Kritical hit-esque X-ray images when bones were broken. Those subtle but impactful breakage shots had me going, “Ooh!” as I read. I kid you not: I rescanned many of these pages not out of confusion but to savor how good they looked.
Underground Writing
On to the substance: the writing. Writing-wise, Underground is efficient, like Max Holloway. JR crafts a revenge plot that makes us understand why Karim is doing what he does, and as a fan of revenge plots, this is highly appreciated. Seeing Karim slammed into the concrete in front of his older brother made me think, “He has to get that lick back.” Maya Kanga, Karim’s nurse who helped rehabilitate him, joins him on his warpath. She also has unsaid feelings for Karim, which excites me to see how their relationship will evolve. The biggest thing to manage with sports
manga’s composition is ensuring the writing doesn’t interfere with the sports. JR pulls this off with action scenes that don’t have the characters talking back and forth mid-punch like it’s a first date. The only writing on the page in these moments is relevant – like Karim thinking about how he will create space while fighting a grappler. I loved this because it follows the art’s realism. JR shows Karim’s fighting intelligence through his thoughts mid-fight. Of course, there is no such thing as the perfect fight, just as there is no perfect manga. The art is stellar in Underground, but there are times when the composition is a tad jarring. A character will throw
a punch, but we won’t see it land on the page because it’s a whole spread containing everything but their fist. The most disorienting example of poor composition at play is Karim getting calf kicked and the image of a detached lower leg in suspended animation. I wondered if he had the Anderson Silva injury that he got against Chris Weidman (don’t Google that). But he was fine; he just took on a heavy low kick. Considering the real X-ray bone breaks we saw, a tree trunk snapping would have sufficed. These are few and far between, and thankfully, what you are looking at is still good – it’s just placed awkwardly. Overall, the writing is excellent, but it does
lack knockout power. In fact, it is the weakest part of the story. The exposition that tells us Karim is a hot-shot kickboxer is a bit odd, considering that both he and his wouldn’t need to talk in such detail about facts they both know. But exposition has to occur somewhere, I suppose.
My biggest issue was the lack of Karim. He is everywhere but nowhere throughout. We know nothing about his demeanor or overall life before the injury. Was he optimistic? Did he lose sponsorships and a girlfriend? This would help me get a full picture of Karim and add fuel to my dislike for Boucher. As far as present-day Karim, we only see him focused on revenge. It makes sense that someone revenge-focused is putting up walls, but we don’t get even an inkling of what’s behind them to know if it’s worth breaking them down. As I said, what we get is efficient, and none of these shortfalls are deal breakers. Underground is a great read. As an MMA fan, I vastly enjoyed the accuracy of the action sequences and reading Karim’s thoughts as he fought. The art is fantastic, and the writing is consistent, but it is missing something to hit with some force. Regardless, I am excited to see Karim kick some more asses as he hunts down Van Boucher when the story returns. It has a long way to go before it enters the sports manga pantheon but a stellar volume one has me optimistic that it will roundhouse kick its way in there eventually. You can find Underground Volume 1 at Barnes & Noble, Target, Books-a-Million, and Walmart. You can also digitally read Underground Volume 1 on Saturday AM’s website and app.
The Life of a Horror Mangaka –Gigi Murakami Interview
by Aran LeeThe life of a mangaka (comic creator) can be difficult, especially if you are in the indie space and have mostly yourself to rely on. Gigi Murakami, American freelance illustrator and mangaka, is just that. As an indie mangaka, she must rely on herself for marketing, drawing, inking, storyboarding, writing, and more! Even with this list of daunting tasks, she’s been able to release phenomenal issues and oneshots of manga such as Resenter, Wash and Go, Tooth Fairy, and more. Her style mixes Japanese manga with a vintage American aesthetic, creating unique works that need to be read. OFF BLXXK got to sit down with her for a little over an hour and discuss her creative process, advice for other Black women who want to create manga, the creation of her unique style, and much more. To hear the full audio and get extra commentary and questions, you can listen to the audio on our affiliate podcast, Blxxk Anime.
Outside of creating manga, you
also stream, you do some writing, still do commissions, and much more. So, how do you juggle all that along with your
personal life?
Yeah, how do I juggle that? That’s a good question. I have a planner. I am trying to tweak my social media stuff. (This is all related.) But I have a planner – a digital and analog planner. I also have a Notion workspace; a lot of my content stuff is up there. I have an assistant who helps me out with my admin and my content planning. So, if you are a part of the email newsletter gang, she writes all that stuff. I just kind of like give her the rundown and she does all of that.
I don’t have much help doing art. I don’t have an art assistant… To add a little bit more value to that answer, a quick rundown of what my schedule is: I do this full-time. This is my day job: creating manga, running my online store, going to conventions, and creating content to push my work. On Mondays, I’m editing manga pages or editing videos for social media or YouTube. Sometimes, I pack orders. I try to pack them on Fridays and then ship them out so that they get to the customer on Monday. If it doesn’t work out that way, I pack and ship on Monday. On Tuesdays, I am working on manga pages, storyboards, and I’m study-
ing Japanese… But Tuesdays and Wednesdays, both of those days look the same. Those are the days that I also stream.
Thursdays are my admin days… If I have to fix something on my website, if I have to update inventory… all of that stuff happens on Thursdays. On Fridays, I try to film for social media. I would like to start batching more short-form videos… so ideally, the whole Friday is for filming, and during the filming, I’m either working on manga pages or an illustration… If I feel like I’m still working on a page, I’ll just record me at my desk in different angles. Because I like film and I like filmmaking, I’ll try to get interesting angles of me working at my desk.
If I have enough time and I feel like I did my job for the day, then I will stream a horror game on Twitch. But that stream is very back burner; if I am tired or if I don’t have enough time to really enjoy the stream because I have a bunch of work that didn’t get done for the week, I will cancel the game streams.
There’s going to be a little bit of friction, but the more that you do it, the easier that it gets. But, you honestly really just got to just do it.
For Black people, we’re used to being hustlers, getting our shit right, right? Being in the anime/manga community, especially when you’re a creator, it feels like that’s something we have to do. There’s not a lot of help out there for us or even teams and groups that are doing that kind of stuff. Also, as a Black person, we’ve probably both heard it: People say that Black people aren’t into anime and manga. And for creators, it’s taken a step further where it’s like, we’re not Japanese, so why are we creating anime and manga? So, my question is, what do you think about people who have that sentiment, especially for someone who has a Japanese family now?
I think those are people just bored on the internet, honestly. I don’t pay no mind to them... Somebody just coming up to me and saying, “You’re not a real manga artist.” …Nobody’s ever said that to me to my face. And even if they did… I don’t know you, you don’t know me, and as far as I’m concerned, I have friends in the manga industry, and they support me. They are a hundred percent like, “Go, do it.” They don’t call me a comic artist. They call me as I want to be addressed.
I feel a little bad for them, mostly because I feel maybe they feel like their space is being encroached on… I know how that feels for me, and I don’t like that. I would hope that that person would get rid of their biases and take a minute to understand that manga is for everyone. Unless that person is Japanese, somebody could easily say to them, “Why are you enjoying manga? You’re not Japanese. That isn’t for you.” You know what I’m saying? So, I would just hope that person can open up their mind a little bit more to understand that.
As someone who calls herself a mangaka instead of a comic artist, what do you think makes your style distinct from what we get from common American comics?
I think my style – it’s something I worked really hard to get a good handle on, and I studied a lot of manga during 2020… I think that my style takes a lot of shortcuts that are seen in manga, specifically. This is all very subjective, right? When we think of manga or anime, we think of like, for noses, “two dot noses.” Or maybe just a line. (Usually, shoujo anime or manga typically has the line noses.) For Black features, our features are more predominant. They’re softer, they’re rounder – oftentimes they’re bigger, right?
So, I tried to pay a lot of attention to how the manga artists I am inspired by and influenced by… what shorthands they use for their faces and for different types of faces and try to apply that specifically to Black faces because I feel like you never quite see Black faces very much in manga and anime. And when you do see it, it just feels like a little off, like something—something’s off. It’s up in the air a lot of times. I feel like because of those shortcuts that I’ve studied… I feel like I’ve – I wouldn’t say I’ve perfected it, but I’m very close. I feel like people can recognize that my characters are Black and that it is in the essence of manga because of the shorthands that I’ve taken and kind of made my own. But those shorthands don’t look like American comics, and that’s why… I decided to call myself a manga artist as opposed to a comic artist.
In your artist statement, you say that your work is “for people who want to engage the Black female experience in a novel way,” and that you “aim to create a different way of looking into the world of Black female-hood.” Do you believe with the works you’ve already created, and you will create, that you have achieved these affirmations?
I think I have. At least, for me, I feel satisfied in what I’ve put out, and there’s still a lot more that I want to put out. As far as reception, I have felt like people have felt seen for sure. That statement is more so for the general public, but first and foremost, I always do this for Black femmes. I want Black femmes to be seen in my work.
And I have gotten that. I have absolutely been told that “I’ve had this experience,” or just a relatable experience, regardless of how horrific the situation is and the actual story. Even with some of my illustrations: There’s this one illustration that I have called, “Don’t touch me.” It’s of a Black young woman with beaded hair. There are all these ghostly white arms and hands and stuff trying to grab her, and she just looks terrified, and she’s facing away from the hands. (I mean, if you’re Black, this is coming from an obvious experience.) So, there was a, uh, there was a young woman on Twitter who commented an experience about how a situation like that had actually happened to her. In the thread, she actually posted my sticker and it was like, “Well, anyway, here’s some work from my favorite artists.” And I was like, “Oh…oh wow.” The post kind of went viral and I was like, “Oh shoot!” But I think I had wrote like, “When art imitates life,” But…it’s a blending. It’s when life imitates art…It’s both.
To the general public, it’s just like, “Oh, it’s ghost hands.” But to the very well-trained eye, they understand what [it] is about. So I do feel like I have reached that, but I definitely feel like there’s a lot more still to go with that. I do feel like there’s a lot more to go until I reach the full capacity of what I’ve written in my artist statement.
I feel like as Black people and POCs we’ve been getting a lot of movies where we like to satirize and turn into metaphors and turn into stories our trauma. We create whole movies around one statement that Black people universally, especially in the United States, feel. I heard you in another interview with the Black Ramen Podcast where they asked you that question talking about that. And that’s how we see comedy and things that other people see as horror, right? And so, with that, how do you blend that magic?
How do you get between those lines where it’s like, “This is a real-life experience I’ve went through. I’ve made it into a horror, and now it’s relatable”?
How to do that was hard. I’ve mentioned this just offhand and publicly before, but I never wanted to feel like I’m making fun of our pain, specifically with Black femmes and topics of beauty. I never wanted to feel like I’m poking fun, and if there is something that’s going on, it’s there for a reason. But as far as like comedy… I mean, for comedy too, it’s the same thing where it’s lightly poking fun. Or it’s like a wink…
So the beauty thing… I’m only saying the beauty because, as a Black woman, I think it’s so easy for Black women and femmes to feel the twinge of the pain of like, “You’re making fun of me. This is beauty. You’re calling me ugly.” So, that’s why I keep going back to it – I just feel it’s the easiest. But, while I don’t want to make fun and, while I don’t want to poke and traumatize, I do want to get the message that I’m trying to get across.
That statement is more so for the general public, but first and foremost, I always do this for Black femmes. I want Black femmes to be seen in my work.
We talked a little about organization – a little bit about what you think about how people feel about manga, anime, and all that kind of stuff. And also how you have worked to achieve the goals that you set forward for yourself and how you’ve blended in yourself.
What advice would you have for Black women? Generally, what advice would you have for Black women who want to get into manga and anime? And then, specifically in the horror genre, what advice would you give them if they want to make their own thing?
For any Black women, uh, or even women just wanting to get into the manga space, I would say: First of all, follow your girl, especially the YouTube channel because I’m going to be putting some vlogs up soon. I got some camera equipment, so, you know, I’m going to be doing these vlogs soon. I think that’ll be something that people will enjoy and get a lot of value from. In addition to that, just do it. I would say just go forth and do it. Try to get into a mindset and a headspace where you just get lost in your own creations. If it’s not fun for you, it’s not going to be fun for anybody that’s reading.
I would also say that it’s a lot harder than it looks. My assistant, who is a femme, is also an aspiring manga creator, and we have these “creator sessions” in my Discord. (That’s actually where I was just coming from; that’s where my community will discuss what creative things they’ve done the week prior and what they can do – what they’re planning to do for the upcoming week.) And, she has been talking about her manga journey. She’s still new at it, and she’s on the first chapter of her first manga, and she’s like, “Oh boy, this is a lot. These pages is crazy. I only have 20 pages to do, and I’m struggling.” And I’m like, “Yeah, girl, welcome to the club. And as soon as you finish them 20 pages, you’re not going to want to touch this shit no more. And then a few weeks gon’ pass, or a few days, and you gon be like, ‘Wow, I feel guilty. I need to get back up on it.’ And then you’re going to get back up on it.”
There’s going to be a little bit of friction, but the more that you do it, the easier that it gets. But, you honestly really just got to just do it. And make it a routine, make it fun. To quote Jordan Peele… he says, “Follow the fun.” Truly, truly follow the fun. Like if [your stories] are starting to drag… and they’re starting to get boring, or even if the story that you’re working on is not feeling fun, scrap it; save it for another day, and work on something new. Even if you intend to get back to it, you can always work on something new. So I would say just get started; play around with it. There are no rules to this, truly. If you need rules and you need structure, there are books out there. Shonen Jump has produced – Viz Media has produced – a bunch of books and resources on how to make manga.
There’s Bakuman, you can read it, you can watch it. There are plenty of YouTube guides that are out there. We were talking about White Manga earlier. White Manga has made plenty of tutorials. There’s absolutely nobody stopping you from doing what you want to do. So just dip your toe in, and then dip your foot in, and then dip your leg in, and then dip your whole body in, and just do it.
Recently, you created a beautiful mural for NTI (Nuclear Threat Initiative). (If you haven’t seen it, go to her YouTube. [Gigi] has a vlog of her going and looking at it.) It’s a beautiful mural in New York, for NTI’s “Cranes for our Future” campaign, and it depicts the history and future of nuclear weapons. It talks about the danger of them and how bad they are, and how they’ve affected people’s lives around the world – even right here in the United States. You did a great interview with them, which I think is definitely worth the read.
As someone who pulls from unique experiences of Black womanhood, if you were to create a mural detailing those experiences, what would be your influences for it?
If we’re talking about like Black women and femmes… I just got to go back to the beauty thing… like, the relationship between Black women and femmes, between beauty, hair, like, self-esteem, skin color… It’s so intertwined. I’ve never seen such issues as intertwined in a group of people before. I don’t know, maybe that’s saying too much, but for me and my experience, all of these issues and all of these complex and nuanced feelings are so intertwined within this one group of people. That would have to be, uh, that would have to be it for me. Maybe, like, some killer relaxers or something floating around, just spitting white goo at women. Something like that. I don’t know. I’d probably – I’d definitely – take it to beauty and texturism and colorism… all these different “-isms” that a lot of Black women and femmes go through.
I’m not sure this is new, but your one shot, Wash and Go. Could you tell us about it a little bit?
So, Wash and Go is – it’s not a personal experience that I’ve had, but it is based on personal feelings that I have. It is about a woman who goes to a hair salon to get her hair done, and in the middle of her session, she kind of awakens to this very unsettling situation that’s in the hair salon.
When I was younger, I would go to the hair salon. (I have not been to a hair salon or a hairdresser in years. I do my hair myself.) But when I did go, I was not fond of sitting in those chairs with strangers and having my eyes closed for long periods of time. It just made me really uncomfortable, and somebody’s touching my head. It’s—I think it’s like an erogenous zone where it’s just hyper-relaxation; same with somebody touching your feet. It’s just a spot that is not very touched on, on the body, so there’s an instant thing of relaxation. So, while I would feel comfortable, I would always be very uncomfortable because I have this stranger giving me this very pleasurable experience, but I don’t know them, and I don’t know all these people around me, and I don’t know what they’re doing while my eyes are closed.
So that always tripped me up a bit when I was younger. After I went natural, I was like, “Yeah, no. We don’t have to do that anymore.”
Gigi Murakami: You can follow her on – all the links will be in the description for the podcast... And if you’re reading this, then… I don’t know what to say to people reading.
I mean, because you’re reading, your links are embedded. So, just click her name somewhere in there… We’ll be back next time with another interview. But yeah, appreciate you, Gigi, for hopping on here—great time.
Absolutely. Thank you for inviting me
And so, until next time.
To hear the full interview with more questions and candid discussions, head over to Blxxk Anime. You can follow Gigi Murakami on X (formerly Twitter), Instagram, check out her website, catch one of her Twitch streams, and/or subscribe to her YouTube to learn more.
Making a Black Character
What Makes a Good Black Character in Anime?
by Aali BrownAs anime continues to reach new peaks and diversify, so will its fandom.” This statement was the base of my previous argument in defense of “the girls,” and the growing influence of the fem-presenting fandom on the anime industry as a whole. However, there is another demographic this statement can apply to, that being Black fans in anime. Similarly to the female gaze influencing the way characters are designed, the growing awareness of multicultural consumers – as well as cultural sensitivity – also has an effect on how characters are both developed and received. Also similarly, there has been a long and problematic history regarding the way these characters were portrayed in anime, as well as villainizing or downplaying the feelings of fans belonging to that group by the wider (whiter) fandom at large. As a Black fem, imagine how tired we are!
Just as Black people in the real world are diverse and multifaceted, so should the anime characters depicting them.”
Most manga and anime are created by Japanese artists first and foremost for a Japanese audience; that is well understood. Thus, most cultural and societal depictions are being written through a Japanese centered viewpoint. This on its own is understandable; however, the overall isolationist “homogeneous” argument has been used as a shield to combat criticisms of troubling or insensitive elements for many years within the anime fandom.
And yet the “cultural ignorance” argument is only applied to problematic portrayals of BIPOC foreign characters. Contrary to White/European characters, Black characters are often not well developed, drawn, or voiced, especially for comedic effect. And while there have been considerable improvements over the years, I think the best way for Black characters to progress in anime would be for there to be a clear understanding of what makes a good Black character.
It’s easy to see why characters like Mr. Popo (Dragonball) would draw backlash, but it wasn’t always such a matter of course. The minstrel-like design of blackskinned characters outside of the Western world has long been contentious, due to the lack of ubiquitous knowledge of anti-black elements that are centered on specifically the African-American experience.
“They aren’t supposed to be black” as an excuse feels like paltry lip-service; why are these exaggerated features and tar black skin necessary to highlight concepts of “exotic” or “foreign”? Declaring the standard, the “normal” in anime as whiteness inherently others differing features in a hierarchical way.
That’s why depictions of black characters in shows like Cowboy Bebop were so important. As director Shinichirō Watanabe put it, “Lots of times when you watch anime, the characters have white skin — all the characters in fantasy stories all have white skin, which I never liked. I wanted to have lots of characters in Bebop without the white skin, and if people weren’t used to that, well, maybe it would even make them think a little bit about it.”
In today’s era, anime is appealing to a much wider audience internationally; and with that, there comes more responsibility on mangakas (manga authors) and studios in not alienating the minority populations (like BIPOC and queer fans) that are also prevalent in the fandom. In my own experience, there have been many aspects of Black characters in anime that have rubbed me the wrong way over the years. I have also seen shifts in the way these characters are presented, and I think it’s worth discussing what exactly would make a “good” Black character. Just as Black people in the real world are diverse and multifaceted, so should the anime characters depicting them. Think of the most side-eye worthy Black character you’ve seen in anime; what was it about them that was so off putting? Personally, I always jump a little in my seat when the camera pans to introduce a Black character and the first thing we
Design, voice, and personality; these are the subcategories that must be considered when creating any character.
see are peach pink sausage lips. Followed by a deep sigh at the oafish, “broken” speech they use. If we’re lucky, they’ll be relegated to one off “comedic” relief; if not, they’ll be rude and slovenly for no other purpose than to antagonize or fire up the protagonist(s).
Design, voice, and personality; these are the subcategories that must be considered when creating any character. And with these exact elements we can examine the problematic stereotyping often applied to both overtly and coded Black characters. Take for example the characters of Jason (Kuroko no Basket) and Aran (Haikyuu) in regards to the aforementioned subcategories, and how they reflect on their storylines. Jason – along with all of the other Black/dark skinned characters in the series– is overtly hostile from his introduction, with his antagonism reflected in each of the three categories. Aran on the other hand scales differently, feeling more like a “real”(and Black) character.
Both characters avoided the unfortunately common design fumble of overly lined “sambo lips” (mostly..I still have some shading concerns), which is always greatly appreciated. And their large statures make sense in the context of their sports (basketball and volleyball respectively), rather than simply being a marker of their foreignness. But details like Aran’s palms being a lighter complexion vs Jason’s hands being the same brown from front to back show how care and intentionality in design can make a big difference. Both characters also speak coherently in Japanese rather than the clunkier depictions in other shows; however there is a clear difference in the manner of speech, with Jason’s aggression and cockiness being reflected in his gang-like way of speaking. On the topic of aggression, we come to the third subcategory of character making: personality.
As mentioned before Jason is hostile and aggressive, qualities shared among all the dark skinned characters in the show. As writer Anne Lei wrote in a thesis regarding Kuroko no Basket’s Black characters, “characterizations align with real life anti-black stereotypes such as ‘violent,’ ‘lazy,’ and ‘criminal/delinquent ; … all darker-skinned characters in the series, black and ethnically Japanese alike, also happen to have roles as antagonists. It should be further noted that the black characters of these instances… are not shown to show remorse, nor are redeemed/forgiven by Japanese protagonists as most of the Japanese antagonists are” (Constructing Race in Anime pg. 42). Contrastingly Aran is shown as even-tempered and mature, cooperating and working hard despite his natural talent
and stature. The three development categories are important to basic character making; but, it is especially important that they are taken with even more care when constructing a Black/coded character. While exaggerated features not being the move may be obvious to some at this point, designing a standard a-political “Euro-Anime” phenotype character then dipping them in brown is not the solution for mangakas looking to insert Black characters either. Canary (Hunter x Hunter), Yutaka (Re-Main), and Atsuko (Michiko to Hatchin) fit the aesthetics of their shows – as well as anime overall – while also having beautifully diverse type 4 hairstyles and features that show the care taken in their design.
As my fellow writer Tia said in her article about voicing Black characters, rather than play up stereotypical and “eccentric vocalities” because of their skin, the character’s personality should reflect in their voice. Where Yutaka’s voice is unobtrusive and pleasant, highlighting his personality rather than his comparative foreignness, compare this to a character like Zolbe (Saiki K); whose foreignness is not remarked upon by his peers, but instead shown through his oafish broken speech. In fact, Yutaka being “allowed” to be soft and to bake is him being allowed to have a personality that falls outside of stereotypically Black.
Dark skinned characters in anime often suffer a flatter sense of character and shallower motivations due to anti black stereotypes. They are often typecast as being hot-headed, lazy, physically gifted rather than hardworking or smart, and sexual. And even in their antagonism they are “lesser”; take again Jason who is violently evil but subservient only to his white captain, who is also evil but gets to be the “respectable-looking” and cool type. So when Black characters have diverse traits that reflect the diversity of Blackness in the real world, it’s so refreshing and lovely to see.
Aran being shown as the most mature team-mate, Noe (Case Study of Vanitas) being described as the kindhearted naive one of his duo, and Yoruichi (Bleach) being portrayed as upbeat and playful are all examples of good Black characters on the virtue that they exist as independent characters. Instead of representing a concept –whether comedic, antagonistic, or simply Foreign – they are allowed to have their own motivations and personality outside of being Black.
And that is what makes a good Black character; having awareness and care in their look rather than exaggerating their features, and allowing them to be an individual character with their own personality, rather than a collection of “otherness” elements based on shallow – and false – assumptions of what it means to be Black. As we continue to see more awareness and sensitivity with other cultural aspects such as how feminism, sexuality, and other topics are handled in modern anime, I hope we can also see a shift in what Black characters are allowed to be.
Super Dangerous, but is it Super Fun?
Super Dangerous #1 Review
by Mzatiwathu BandaEveryone has always dreamt of what they'd do if they had Superman-level powers. As a simple man, I would use those powers to become the world's greatest athlete and assume GOAT status in numerous sports. Resolve Comics’ Super Dangerous #1 gives its main character, Jah Sanders, an average 19-year-old college student, Superman-level powers. Jah doesn't aim for the Hall of Fame but for Nobel Prizes. He stops wars, improves the climate, and helps the displaced, which makes him “Super Dangerous” for those who may profit from such things. Naturally, being a super dangerous man brings danger to Jah's doorstep, and this leads to a super fun reading experience (see what I did there?).
Resolve Comics’ Super Dangerous #1 gives its main character Jah Sanders, an average 19-year-old college student, Superman-level powers.””
Super Dangerous Art Style
The fun hits you immediately as you open Super Dangerous. Lord Kotodwe’s lines and colors are simply magnificent. On the art alone, I would pay full price for this book. Every page and panel is filled with life and energy. I would reread pages to get a second look at the art because it felt like I would be doing a disservice if I rushed through it. It is all so gorgeous whether it’s a shot of Jah flying among the eagles or a double-page spread of him laying waste to a military base. Not only does it all look great, but it serves the narrative tone. Jah, being a hero, has a bright backdrop in a dingy, lifeless realm that is toned down, and one panel turns red when things go awry. The way Jah is drawn, and his expressions throughout the narrative shifts are perfect. Whether he’s angry, happy, or humorously confused, each emotion is conveyed with clarity.
Adding to the fun of the gorgeous visuals is the lettering by Sarahy Ocanto. They give the art that extra shine. We see certain character’s words with differing sizes to convey a lack of control. This gives those portions of dialogue life, making what is 2D feel like it has an audio dimension. Ocanto leads your eye with the way she places effects. You don’t just see “BOOM” on the page; the onomatopoeia is oriented from the sky, following Jah as he lands and emanates from his impact point. My favorite piece of her lettering sees a long spiraling “yes” (there are many more e’s and s’s, but I think I got the number of y’s right) that leads you to the next panel and Jah, who is the intended target of the speech.
On the art alone, I would pay full price for this book. “
Character Development and Worldbuilding
Jah is the most fun part of the whole story. Adam Downing writes one of the most enjoyable characters I’ve read this year. He feels like a real college student; he’s funny, cocky, and naive. Once he is endowed with powers he boldly uses them to try and achieve world peace without considering any consequences. I love how his characterization stays consistent because not only does this teenage naivety show room for growth, but it’s also why his family is in danger. Writing Jah in such a way authenticates his predicament. Downing gives us a kid who still has a lot to learn about how the world works.
The world Downing places Jah in is very interesting. Initially, everything seems a lot like our world. It has climate issues, inequality, and needs ceasefires. Of course, Jah takes care of most of this. There are some technological advancements with the weapons used against Jah as a response to his heroic deeds. Alongside the advanced technology, we have weird one-eyed hand spiders, cursed objects, and necromancers. Considering Jah is impervious to nukes, a part of me thought his story as a hero would be a bit bland if he just had to shrug off bombs. Downing introducing the magical aspect added more flavor because Jah’s powers will definitely be tested.
The bigger world that Downing delivers is a lot of fun and action. I wish we could see more of Jah’s inner world. Don’t get me wrong, I love Jah; if he was a real person, I think we’d get along. But the way the story is structured, we don’t get to see what is really at stake for him at a deep, specific level. I wish we could have seen more of him outside of just being a superhero and having the powers to solve general world problems. Could we have seen a little bit of what his day-to-day looked like before he “did a world peace”?
Considering he’s 19, he definitely has a social life that he might have to sacrifice to be a hero. We see that he’s a big brother, and it would have been nice to see how he connects with his family, considering they are what he is fighting for in this issue. Ultimately, I think the issue packs in a lot more on the worldbuilding and action side of things that it sacrifices that extra characterization of Jah. The biggest ripple effect this had on me is that it sometimes makes the story feel consequence-less.
Even a shot of Jah imagining his family being mistreated would add a little depth and let us know that he understands that this hero-fantasy is not all world peace and saved polar bears. This could be Jah’s naivety and arrogance in his powers, but it allows him to think about his family and then dismiss it. What’s evident is that Downing is writing a character who has a lot of growing to do and will be meeting obstacles that force him to heavily contemplate the life of a hero.
Super Dangerous #1 is a great introduction to a new character and world. Everyone involved in the issue should take a bow. Every page turn is brimming with life and stunning colors. The lettering is dynamic and eye-catching but not overbearing. The writing brings us a world that is known but filled with discoveries. Jah Sanders is a wonderful character to follow as he navigates its depths. I am excited to see where Jah’s powers take him. I know it will be “Super Dangerous” and hopefully even more “Super Fun.”