Yellow Scene sat down with Jeff Fard (Brother Jeff) on a January day when the frigid temperatures of the previous week finally broke, and the sun came out. Brother Jeff’s Cultural Center, a bright spot along Denver’s light rail, sits in the historic Five Points neighborhood, the community Brother Jeff feeds, supports, and loves. Inside the center, sitting at the desk where he records his daily podcasts, YS asked him about some of the turning points that informed the person he is today – a respected leader, locally and globally.
Jeff Fard: “I grew up in the wake of activism, so it’s interesting to see how these stories and struggles continue. My children…have also come up in the wake of activism, such as the George Floyd and Black Lives Matter protests.
“When you start talking about the history of Black people in America, the moment…we were captured and transported has always been the spark of the movement. It’s been co-opted in many ways, but the ultimate seed of that is freedom. And even when we just celebrated Dr. Martin Luther King, most folks don’t realize what he marched for. It just became an all-encompassing narrative as opposed to Black freedom.
“The co-opted narrative is like The Declaration of Independence, a fancy document. It’s something to pursue without realizing…that there are folks impacted in real-time who would like to see those documents as a reality.
A lot of what we deal with in terms of…the building of this young country is symbol without substance. “We hold these truths to be self-evident that all men are created equal.” It really meant men; it didn’t mean women. And it didn’t mean all men. It meant white, wealthy, land-owning men.
“I think that if we get to the point of the foundation of the country [being] inequity and [that] it was really for the privileged landowners and it continues to be that, a lot of that understanding was covered by other cultures. Whereas now, it seems like everybody is impacted by what African Americans have always been impacted by.
“White people saying, “Why are my tax dollars being spent on war when I’m hungry? My children aren’t getting a quality education. Why am I not safe [when] I’m not in proximity to Black folks?” [which is] where the narrative of this country was. It was the Black folks as the reason we’re not safe. It’s not the narrative that these are the people who helped build the country with free labor. [Or] these are the individuals who went to war to fight for democracy [to] have the Germans treated like First Class citizens while Black soldiers were hung in their uniforms.
“[Then] you get to the modern time [with] Emmett Till, which kicked off the Black Freedom Movement, which is co-opted into what they’d call a civil rights movement. As if our history was just a desire to have civil rights. But what we’re talking about is freedom… It’s individuals expressing their humanity to those who just don’t see it as such. In today’s society, you see the vilification of “other.” This country needs someone to point the finger at.
“And today, more people are being awakened to that, and that’s why you have a tax on critical race theory. That’s why you have folks using “woke” in disparaging terms. Because more people are seeing what’s going on.”
Yellow Scene: In your 2022 YS interview, you talked briefly about your time in South Africa when Mandela was released from prison. How old were you then? What kind of impression did it make on you?
JF: “My connection to Africa is really my connection to home. I’m an African in America. I’m very clear that the stewards of this land were the indigenous population, and many were annihilated… It’s such a tragic story that has been whittled down to land acknowledgments. It’s like coming down Welton Street and seeing the plaques on the walls of what was prior to gentrification.
“I was a young adult going into South Africa, and that’s where I realized that the very system of injustice in place in these United States [informed] the apartheid system. Those townships were the reservations of America.
“What I was able to glean over time was not just [from] when I was there as a young adult, but as I’ve traveled there multiple times and have some greater understanding around South Africa. I was [there] when Mandela was released from prison, and I was there the morning he was released from the body.
“It’s one of the places that shaped my understanding of what’s happening in North America. My activism really began in an effort to stop the killing of my peers…with the crack epidemic and the influx of LA-style gang violence. When I was growing up, there was never any such thing as drive-by shootings.
“Black folks [had] middle-class neighborhoods [after] their exodus from the south, and then something happened. The same hatred that came out of the South followed them. Those same clansmen and hateful individuals left the South also, and they became the police officers, the stewards. [Their attitude was,] ”We’re the ones that know how to handle these folks.” And so when you [consider] your understanding of gangs in LA, you’re going to see the demise of Black communities, the influx of crack cocaine, the influx of weapons, and then those weapons being pointed at each other – for no apparent reasons.
“If you track that thread all the way back, no one even knows why. And all of these years later, you see the decimation of Black people and the increase of a prison industrial complex. That reality was pushed out of LA into Phoenix, Vegas, Colorado, Kansas…
Black people in America have a common story.
“[Whereas] when you get to South Africa, in a circle of 50 people, there could be 70 different Ethnic groups and that many different languages spoken. They have very real differences, which would allow someone to manipulate those differences and have them killing each other based on [that]. Here in America, they just gave them a blue and a red rag. They created differences.
“[South Africa] is fighting for freedom from apartheid. As young people, we were stopping apartheid. We learn about our world through our music, our culture, our dances, our traditions. So, we knew about South Africa. And then I’m there before a lot of our peers. And I’m telling folks about South Africa, about the difference between Coloreds and Blacks. I didn’t even know I was integrating South Africa because I didn’t know the difference between Black folks and Colored folks. Here in the US, if you’re as white as Mariah Carey or as black as the Ace of Spades, you’re still Black. In South Africa, those are distinct races and they identify as such.
YS: Were you there with an organization?
JF: “I used to be into martial arts – Tsubaki Challenge. We were fighting without gloves long before MMA – Japanese-style – but controlled because young people were with adults. During the Tsubaki Challenge, someone from South Africa came to a competition. I’m in the dojo and he’s a Black guy, and I say, “What’s happening?” And he says, “Hello,” but it’s with a British accent. I’m tickled to beyond. This is eye-opening. So we become very close brothers.
“I’m showing him around the Black community because the immigrant story in North America, as it relates to Black people from Africa, is very different from the story of Black people from America. Generally, [the mindset of] immigrants from Africa is [that] white people are saviors. It’s hard for people to realize [this] unless [they] travel to Africa, where you see no white people unless they’re just passing [through].
“In Colorado, particularly now with gentrification, you have to find Black people. But this used to be a wholly Black community. I’m talking about the doctors, the dentists, the unhoused, the big-housed. If you passed 23rd Ave, the police are going to pull you over and say [they] got a phone call. There’s something suspicious about you.
“This is the same thing that was happening in South Africa with folks that had to have an ID card. You could just see the color lines. This is the social engineering of hatred. And so I’m with Brian because he’s brought here to fight from South Africa [and] I’ve got views of South Africa which are very stereotypical. I’m seeing [Brian] as Black, but he’s Colored. And I show him where Black folks are.
“Next thing you know, he becomes immersed and starts learning about hip hop and exports that culture back to South Africa. And this was long before I was into the scramble for Africa. Africa was carved up under the guise of civilizing the dark continent, the savages, all of that nonsense. And so, the dynamic as it relates to [immigrants from] South Africa was [that] they’re brought to America through white, charitable organizations. And then all of a sudden, you come here, and Black folks’ attitude to white folks is very different. It’s hostile.
“When you bring those two together, the relationship between the immigrant African and the African American is very different. You’ll start seeing immigrants that have never met an African American. And the Black folks here stay away from them. Well, Brian and I were breaking up this thing without even knowing it. And when I went to help promote the Tsubaki Challenge in South Africa, now I’m seeing it from the other side.
“And even while I’m there and Mandela’s released, I still didn’t know culturally what was going on. I didn’t know the work I was doing…bridging Blacks and Coloreds in South Africa. In Cape Town. Through hip-hop and karate.
“Many years later, I’m sitting in Cape Town, and I get a call, and I’m asked, “How are people reacting over there? Mandela just became an ancestor.” I was able to see all of the rituals and the movement of that body from birthplace to towns to villages. And that’s just the South African story.
“And then I just came back from Senegal, [where] we were given the keys to Goree Island and The Door of No Return – where they say that 100 million of our ancestors are buried at the bottom of the Atlantic. I [returned] with honor to Goree Island, an ambassador to The Door of No Return.”
When YS asked Brother Jeff about the political situation in Senegal and the upcoming election, he explained that simply visiting a country or learning about its politics while you’re there does not impart a real understanding. He went on to explain his feelings about politics in general.
JF: “My common core value is one of a humanitarian. I believe all people, no matter where they’re at, should have dignity of self. I cannot understand for one moment why anyone would resist a ceasefire. Children should not have a lack of access to life and dignity, regardless of where they’re at. So, even in these current dynamics, I don’t care about the politics.
“I just care about the people. I see a common thread of humanity where people of all backgrounds want the best for themselves, for their children, [and] they want to be safe. The same thing that I’m seeing right now in Gaza. I’ve been talking about the Tigri genocide for two and a half years now. The exact same thing [is] happening in North Africa.
“Regardless of who I am, I want to be able to say, “I [have] respect for life and the dignity of humanity.” I don’t care if it lines up with my particular worldview or not. Humanity is sacred to me, and I’m not going to argue with anybody about the politics of it.
“I’m going to be busy feeding folks… If I can help, that’s what Brother Jeff’s going to do. That’s what this cultural center is about. That’s what the pantry’s about…giving away thousands of meals. And that’s why we have No One Should Be Hungry Period. Because food is something we can all agree upon. I look for things that bring us together.
YS: In your TED Talk on racism, you seem optimistic about creating change in the way people think… How do you stay motivated in what feels like such a dark world?
JF: “It might sound cliche about the glass half empty or half full. But I think it’s half full. I think what’s shown to us is gloomy. [But] I think the world is mainly beautiful. And so I focus on the beauty without dismissing the fact that horror exists. I want to make sure my flame is bright, my spirit is whole, and my faith in humanity is vast. It’s easy to show the person who’s doing the most heinous thing because heinous things aren’t supposed to happen. But being kind is supposed to happen. So maybe that’s why it gets overlooked.
“I know that I stand on the shoulders of my ancestors, and they have endured much more than I could ever imagine. They’ve planted trees that will produce fruit that they’ll never eat from. For me to be gloomy would be disrespectful to all those who struggled to make sure that creation is manifested in a luminous way. I’ve met too many people [who paved the way] to fall into that pit of despair.
“The sun is always shining, no matter how dark it is. It’s just your position to the sun. If you want to see something different, reposition yourself. And at the same time, protect yourself and others. It will elevate. In a world built on falsehood, truth becomes very dangerous. And that’s why most of your great leaders are assassinated. Because there are those who understand that an enlightened population…puts those handfuls of individuals who are ruling through deceit at [risk].
“Dr. King [condemned] 3 things: materialism, racism, and militarism. And we haven’t checked any of that. We can talk about it, we can complain about it. But at the end of the day, we better roll up our sleeves…
“I do a lot of work around health. Now, more people are becoming aware of the dynamics of mental health, and more people are struggling with it. It’s because they’re trying to keep up with lifestyles that continue to grind them.
“ALL people are spending most of their money on housing. Everybody’s dealing with the same stuff.
“We can’t scapegoat each other… When we come together collectively, we’re going to solve some problems.”
YS: You’ve been on the board for The Center for African American Health. How have you been involved in Barbershop Talks?
JF: “Barbershop Talks and, The Center for African American Health, and the Black Health Initiative are all movements I’ve been a part of. But there’s a time when you pass the torch and become a mentor. And so when you think about a lot of these movements today, I’ve been able to mentor individuals into that.
“Barbershop Talks was really about Black men getting together where we do our psychology, [and] it expanded to Beauty Shop Talks, where women get together.
“Colorado Black Health Initiative expanded not only Barbershop Talks, but they started doing health screenings in barbershops. [The mission] was to be the healthiest Black people in the nation. I was also on the State Health Department [with] the Office of Minority Health, where you go into rural areas around Colorado – places that don’t have internet, let alone telehealth.
“The cornerstone [of] Brother Jeff’s Cultural Center was and is HIV and AIDS, and I’m not talking about where it’s undetectable, where they’re not transmitting the virus. Our goal is to make sure that HIV is eradicated. And so from that work, I was able to help put together programs with Magic Johnson. Bringing that information into our community was very important because our community was scapegoating folks who had HIV.
“Folks thought it was just gay, white men. Black folks didn’t believe that HIV had anything to do with them. I was an orderly at Mercy Hospital when Dr. Bernard Gibson was the Black doctor. I was [there] when the first people [with HIV/AIDS] used to show up and die. Before they named it AIDS. And they had these things called heroin drips…giving the clue that this is how we can help end a life with dignity.
“And then groups like Act Up, which led to things like client advocacy. I’ve got great friends and supporters that help us, [like] Telluride AIDS Benefit.
“So I saw HIV before it was even named HIV all the way up to 2024, where it’s mainly a chronic illness. Health has always been a part of what we’re doing, and Barbershop Talks – I saw that when it was born. I know where the founders are and what they’re doing, and now they’re parents, and they’re grown up.
YS: What a beautiful thing to watch.
JF: “It’s called a legacy. To me, I really understand when you have a Dr. King and great individuals that didn’t leave great wealth in buildings [or things]. But look at the impact of what they did leave. You’re not taking one of those big buildings with you. So why not have one that’s warm that you can let folks sleep in so they’re not freezing to death? That’s a better legacy than a shiny building [that’s] unoccupied because no one can afford it.”
Check out Yellow Scene’s Publisher, Shavonne Blades, talking with Jeff Fard about Donald Trump’s reelection.
YS: If someone is looking for a way to help the Cultural Center, what would you say those needs are?
JF: “First know that great work is being done wherever you’re at. Get behind it in your community. And if you were to help Brother Jeff’s Cultural Center, we have a pantry, we’re involved in the cultural arts. Just working with young people. Giving them a voice, and saying what is your way of expression? The way to help is to connect to remember your humanity. If there were ways you wanted to be more involved, just get in touch with us. Let’s eat together, let’s walk together. So, the way to help Brother Jeff’s Cultural Center is to continue to come together, ask tough questions, and speak truth to power. Don’t shy away from the difficult work because it’s unpopular. Get into some Good Trouble. It’s worth it.
“I remember we put together a campaign called Building Relationships Between Heterosexual and Homosexual Black Men. Within that community, there are liberated spaces for certain individuals, but Black men who are same-gender-loving do not exercise that flag. They’re oppressed inside of an oppressed system. And so we would go around to what they’d call these Black gay pride festivals, and it was building relationships between heterosexual and homosexual Black men.
“I’d show up, and people would think I’m homosexual. And then, when they’d introduce the heterosexual, the venom would come. And [I] find myself doing what white folks do when they’re in spaces of color. “It wasn’t me! I’ve never been racist!” And then I was like, no. Because I represent everyone that’s called you f*ggot, sissy, punk. And somebody said, “Brother Jeff, what are you gonna do with your privilege?” And I said, “What the f*ck are you talking about? What is my privilege?”
“But I do have privilege. There’s places I can go that a homosexual person can’t go.”
“What I’m gonna [do] is what I always do. Nobody’s gonna be throwing down on anybody in my presence. There’s not gonna be any of that language. When you come into the Cultural Center, there’s no men’s or women’s restroom. It’s just a restroom because nobody has to make that choice. It’s not a big deal to me, but it’s a big deal to somebody else! [We] hear words like diversity, equity, inclusion – but it still looks like the same old founding fathers. I thought you said ALL men are created equal.”
YS: You were talking about gang violence at the time that you opened the cultural center. Gang violence has gone up again in Denver. How has that impacted you?
JF: “There’s a saying if you don’t initiate the child into the village, they will burn it down to feel the warmth. And we can call it gang violence, or we can call it neglect. It’s the responsibility of adults to be in young people’s lives. And there came a time [with COVID] when positive adults were doing other things.
“The work is caring about young people. They all want the same thing, and it’s just love. They want to know that they’re valued and respected. I’m happy that there are lots of organizations that I’ve been a part of that do incredible work with young people, but…there are still murders that don’t make the news. So, we still have challenges, but there are people who are doing great work around it.
“So when people say numbers are up again, it just means we still have work to do. At the end of the day, we’re going to have to realize that we might have to sacrifice that big car, that second garage, for more time with our young people. To go and coach, to check-in.
“Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to take music out of the schools. Maybe someone who has a lot of energy…might be creative. Why don’t we figure out what their gift is before they find a gun?
“And that’s what Brother Jeff’s Cultural Center is. We fill that void. We hold those values to our community, and we also link folks who may need to break some cycles to services or might just be experiencing behaviors based on trauma in a young mind that doesn’t know how to interpret it.
“The good work is easy. You don’t have to fund me to hug me or smile. So, at Brother Jeff’s Cultural Center, we don’t seek funding. We would never turn it away, but I guarantee you we’re not trying to [be a] big agency with a bureaucracy. We’re gonna open that door and have a place for people to come, and we’re gonna have volunteers. I’m not trying to build an institution based on pay. I want to eliminate pay, and we can all do something else. Let’s go to a concert and hear some good music. Well, there you have it.”