A Historic Convergence in Oakland

In a powerful meeting of artistic and activist legacies, Bobby Seale, the 86-year-old co-founder of the Black Panther Party, recently welcomed D’Angelo for a profound dialogue about racial injustice at the very birthplace of the movement—Oakland, California. As the R&B star walked the streets where the Panthers once organized community survival programs, he described the experience as “a dream” come true, adding, “It’s very rare you get to meet one of your heroes”.

This intergenerational exchange occurred against the backdrop of continuing racial tensions in America, from police brutality protests to the rise of the Black Lives Matter movement. For D’Angelo, whose 2014 album Black Messiah directly confronted these issues, the meeting represented a living bridge between the revolutionary spirit of the 1960s and contemporary struggles for justice. “There’s so many parallels going on between now and your time,” D’Angelo observed to Seale during their conversation. “And it’s the same fight with the police”.

D’Angelo’s Musical Awakening

When D’Angelo unexpectedly released Black Messiah in 2014 after a 14-year hiatus, he offered what one critic called “a near-decade’s worth of sociopolitical anxiety and creativity”. The album, which he had known would bear that title long before the songs were even written, emerged as what the artist described as a “companion piece” to the growing movement for racial justice.

For D’Angelo, the album represented a conscious homecoming to the musical tradition of his youth. “Coming up, the music of my era was very conscious,” he reflected. “I grew up on Public Enemy, and it was popular culture to be aware… It was trendy to be conscious and aware. Now the trend … it’s just [expletive]”. He particularly praised Kendrick Lamar as “an example of someone who is young and actually trying to say something,” while criticizing other contemporary artists for producing what he considered less substantive work.

Tragically, as the world now mourns D’Angelo’s recent passing at age 51, his legacy as a soulful genius who “reshaped music, leaving a legacy of truth and rhythm” has taken on even greater resonance. His music, particularly the politically charged Black Messiah, stands as a testament to his belief that artists have “power to influence minds and influence lives”.

Bobby Seale’s Enduring Legacy

As the charismatic co-founder of the Black Panther Party alongside Huey P. Newton, Bobby Seale helped craft one of the most significant revolutionary platforms in American history. The Party’s famous Ten-Point Program, articulated in speeches across the country, demanded fundamental rights including “full employment for our people,” “decent housing,” education that taught “the true nature of this decadent racist society,” and an “immediate end to police brutality and murder of Black people”.

What many forget, however, is that the Panthers complemented their militant image with practical community programs. Under Seale and Newton’s leadership, the Party established free breakfast programs for children, health clinics, clothing give-aways, and numerous other community-based initiatives that served hundreds of thousands of people. These “survival programs” represented what historian Peniel Joseph describes as the Panthers’ genuine concern for “the survival of the black community”.

Today, Seale continues his activism through speaking engagements, focusing on topics such as “Environmental Youth Jobs Projects” and “Peoples’ Medicare for all”. His perspective on current movements is both supportive and strategic. When D’Angelo expressed concern that Black Lives Matter might “fizzle” without strong leadership, Seale offered straightforward advice: “You have to keep it going. You can’t let it quiet down”.

The Panther Professor: Pedagogy of Liberation

The concept of a “Panther professor” finds its roots in the educational philosophy that Seale and Newton embedded in the Black Panther Party from its inception. This approach blends theoretical knowledge with practical application, mirroring the Panthers’ own fusion of political education with community service.

Teach methe Whole Community

Huey P. Newton insisted on creating a “basic platform that the mothers who struggle hard to raise us, that the fathers who worked hard, that the young brothers in school who come out of school semi-literate” could all understand and embrace. This commitment to accessible education rejected elitist academic language in favor of communication that empowered ordinary people.

Theory Must Serve Practice

The Panthers famously complemented their political education with concrete action. When three children had been endangered at a dangerous intersection, the Panthers didn’t just analyze urban planning—they “shot a petition in conjunction with members of the area there to the city council” and threatened to direct traffic themselves until the city installed a street light. This fusion of analysis and direct intervention characterized the Panther approach to education.

Education as Armament

Newton spent considerable time “teach[ing] 12 basic points of law on how to exercise their constitutional rights” to Party members. He understood that knowledge itself constituted a form of power and protection in a system designed to disempower Black communities. This echoes D’Angelo’s observation that “before you can really change anything, you have to know what it is that you’re trying to change”.

Challenge Colonial Education

In a speech delivered in 1968, Seale used the metaphor of a muddied spring to describe colonial education: “All we want is a clear drink of water, but there’s a hog in the spring!”. The decolonization of knowledge required removing the “hog” of white supremacist curriculum that polluted understanding of history, politics, and culture.

Intergenerational Resonance

The conversation between D’Angelo and Seale revealed striking parallels in perspective across generations. Both expressed nuanced views on leadership—D’Angelo grappling with the discomfort of being seen as a “leader,” while Seale noted that “Huey Newton got himself into trouble” when he positioned himself as the Party’s central figure.

Similarly, both emphasized the importance of strategic engagement with existing systems. Seale pointed to the example of Baltimore State’s Attorney Marilyn Mosby, who indicted the officers responsible for Freddie Gray’s death, as evidence that “political power seats” could be leveraged for change. D’Angelo, meanwhile, argued for the need to develop “a true agenda, a central committee, some type of leadership” within contemporary movements.

Perhaps most importantly, Seale offered historical clarity to current struggles. He contextualized police brutality within broader systems of oppression, noting that the Panthers recognized how point seven of their platform—”an immediate end to police brutality”—connected to their other demands around employment, housing, and education. As he explained in his speeches, “you still have to defend yourself against the gross unemployment we subjected to, against the indecent housing we subjected to, against the indecent education that we getting”.

Legacies of Liberation

The meeting between D’Angelo and Bobby Seale represents more than a symbolic passing of the torch between generations of activists. It underscores the enduring relevance of the Panther philosophy in addressing contemporary struggles. As D’Angelo noted in his conversation with Seale, the parallels between eras are unmistakable: “It’s the same fight with the police”.

For educators, artists, and activists today, the “Panther professor” model offers a blueprint for transformative education that extends far beyond the classroom walls. It demands that knowledge serve liberation, that education connect to material conditions, and that intellectual work remain accountable to community needs.

As we reflect on D’Angelo’s powerful musical legacy following his recent passing, and as Bobby Seale continues to speak truth to power well into his eighth decade, their intertwined stories remind us that the struggle for justice requires both the soaring truth of art and the grounded wisdom of those who have long organized in the trenches. Their convergence in Oakland stands as a testament to the ongoing journey toward freedom—one that continues to draw strength from the past while marching firmly toward the future.

This article is dedicated to the memory of Michael Eugene “D’Angelo” Archer (1974-2025), whose music taught us that soul isn’t a genre but “a reflection of life itself—imperfect, beautiful, and endlessly evolving”.