As we reflect on 2025 and look toward 2026, I see it as a moment of gathering and foundation-building. At first, I didn’t recognize my own progress—but true growth often happens in the quiet work of preparation. I’m sharing some pieces from last year, each part of a larger journey in storytelling and creation, guided by the principle of Kujichagulia: defining our own narratives and owning our creative process.
One constant in my life has been an authentic African Kora that’s lived in my parents’ home since I was a child. It’s never been played and functions more like a museum piece, but time has taken its toll. To honor its presence, I chose to restore it not by sending it away, but by engaging with it creatively—by rebuilding it as a 3D model. Even though it’s largely geometric, this became one of the most complex models I’ve worked on. It felt right to present it through Kuumba, the spirit of creativity itself. The short videos above are a simple showcase. Music credit goes to Loopmasters.com.
Communities are made up of many folks such as Officers Hopkins and Smith—Hoppy and Smitty. If that reference went over your head, tap in with an elder. They’re not the center of the story, but they exist within it, just as they do in many neighborhoods. In the urban fable that is Kinara’s Children, we know they will focus on preventing harm to the community rather than maintaining control.
Bring on the Boomers!
Speaking of elders, I also recognized a void without their presence. Our narratives need elders—guides who carry memory, wisdom, and continuity. That’s why I’ve been developing two elder characters, yet unnamed. They are not side notes; they are central to the cultural fabric we are weaving. They don’t have a full story yet, because stories take time. But they are coming. Ujima requires that we build together, across generations.
As the community continues to expand, you may see new faces soon. Call it growth, not trends. This isn’t about chasing DEI language or “woke” approval—it’s about reflecting the fullness of Black life in America and resisting the systems that flatten us out.
So that was 2025—a year of learning, experimenting, and steady building. Not everything showed up as a finished piece, but each step contributed to the growth of the Kinara’s Children universe. New ideas took shape, new art emerged, and the community expanded in meaningful ways.
I’ll close with this year-end video, created in 2025, offered as a reflection and a celebration of another joyful Kwanzaa season. It’s a moment to pause, honor the work, and carry its lessons forward together.