ABSTRACT
After locating one of the leading 1970s Kwanzaa promoters and Black Power stalwarts in his office on a cold December Chicago afternoon in 2000, he immediately knew who I was, why I suddenly appeared, and what kind of information I was looking for. “You’re the brother who emailed about coming to Chicago to talk to me about Kwanzaa.” “Yes, I am,” I replied with great anticipation that Conrad Worrill wanted to talk about one of his most cherished activities. Instead of allowing a few minutes to go by for a formal introduction and interview set-up, Worrill shouted out: “Kwanzaa is dead . . . we’ve lost it.” Worrill’s words on the surface appeared tongue in cheek, somewhat facetious to his visitor, but I quickly realized there was a level of earnestness in Worrill’s humor. Worrill’s referencing of Kwanzaa’s “death” and the black community’s loss spoke not so much to a physical loss, but rather what he saw as perhaps more detrimental: Kwanzaa’s commodification and appropriation outside of the sphere of black America.1
