When I was taught about the Black Panther Party for Self-Defence (BPP) in school, it was tagged along at the end of the Civil Rights Movement and labelled as a dangerous organisation; the ones who ruined civil rights for black Americans. Indeed, the Black Panthers were and still are criticised for their militant strategies, their male dominance and as a result their male chauvinism that led to the party’s failures. Yet, in my second year of university, I was required to do a presentation on the Black Panther Party, where I uncovered evidence that subverted these views, showing that actually, the Panthers were highly successful in many ways and that the women of the party were largely responsible for this success.

When I was a kid, my dad was sent to prison. And after he served his sentence, he was deported to Mexico where he is to this day. His prison sentence was something that we acknowledged throughout the years but have never talked about in-depth. Until now.

We are living in an increasingly politically polarising environment. The voice of our generation is getting louder than ever, especially with the issue of climate change, the current pandemic and uprising of the #BlackLivesMatter movement. As the voice of the future, it is imperative that we seek our own truth and learn to decipher the misinformation prevalent online.

In order to act on this solidarity, it is vital that we, as members of the South Asian community, first acknowledge the issues that lie within our own homes— issues regarding race, anti-blackness, and superiority. For even as POC and allies to the BLM movement, many of us feel exempt from having to educate ourselves on race and racial issues.

There has always been interest in American everything, and now with Trump in office, there is even more. According to a report by the Pew Research Center, interest in US news is high in Canada, Japan and Northern Europe, with the Netherlands being the country with the second-highest interest rate (75% of Dutch people say they follow American news closely). But why is this?

White people are being real brave, telling people of color, once again, what to do and who to vote for.

“You have to vote for Biden!”

“If you don’t vote, you’re privileged.”

“You’re voting for Trump!”

“Never complain about anything ever again.”

Imagine that. White people telling people of color that we’re privileged because we refuse to vote for someone who is not for us, who will do nothing for us. Someone who has played a part in the continuation of our oppression.

White people are really brave.

What does the American Dream truly mean to immigrants today? Currently, under Donald Trump’s Presidency, it means to walk thousands of miles, to escape gang violence and danger and seek asylum only to be put in another kind of hell, immigration detention centres. It means being subject to inhumane conditions and treated as a criminal. It means being separated from your family.

White liberals and so-called progressives tend to have this fantasy about women of colour, specifically Black women, that when they are in trouble, women of colour will save them all, even if it destroys us.

Writing with Fire is a documentary that highlights Khabar Lahariya, the only all-women news collective in India. They report on the problems in their society and attempt to make all the change they are collectively capable of. Living in a profoundly sexist caste system, these women take power for themselves, pointing fingers at their officials as they demand answers and solutions to greater problems for the sake of their communities. Now possessing over half a million subscribers on Youtube grown over the past five years of filming the doc, the group has taken to worldwide digital success in addition to that of their local print.

In the sole Indian film premiering in the World Cinematic Dramatic competition, Ajitpal Singh's Fire In The Mountains tells a story about the universal complexities of motherhood and the singular experiences of village life in India. Its many subplots, conflicts, and even the cinematography carry the greater theme of disparity between worlds.

Ailey's choreography somehow captures a uniquely black experience through his movements, angles, and lines that exist almost in a completely different world than that of how we usually perceive the world of dance.

One of the most highly anticipated films of Sundance, 'Passing,' deals with the unique experience of being mixed-race in America in the 1920s, but also holds a mirror up to how we view being mixed race now. Rebecca Hall's debut film (adapted from the novel of the same name) centres housewife Irene (Tessa Thompson), who, despite her ability to "pass" for white, has a Black husband and Black children and lives in Black America. This is an important distinction considering the social and mental segregation of the time. She deals with society's racial tensions finding its way into her own home despite her best efforts to protect her children from the harsh realities.

“If this rings a bell, it's because it's a bell that has echoed long past 1969. Whilst watching the Summer of Soul documentary and viewing footage of riots and protests, I was reminded of turning on my own TV during 2020’s summer and witnessing parallel scenes in the wake of George Floyd”

“You never wanted to be anyone’s ‘girlfriend’ and now you’re somebody’s wife,” Tom says bitterly, to which Summer tries to argue, “It just happened. I woke up one day and I knew.”

“Knew what?” Tom asks, exasperated.

Summer delivers the final blow: “What I was never sure of with you.”

I’d heard the dialogue so many times that I had practically memorized it and yet, each time, I found myself receiving it differently. When I was 13, my heart went out to Tom who promptly complained about how much it sucked to realize that “destiny, soulmates, [and] true love” was a sham. When I was 16, I respected Summer for her genuine repentance despite having little to no fault; she kept her frankness up to the very end, acknowledging Tom’s pain without granting him any sense of false hope.

My parents mystified love because they were so private in their own loving, and because of this romantic and intimate relationships were something I largely had to figure out on my own. Many parents have this attitude towards love, and this means that our concept of romantic relationships is largely moulded by movies, music and our peers. From an early age, we see Disney princesses being saved by love, warping our understanding. Suddenly we believe that everything will miraculously make sense in life when you find “the one.”

As a distributor, it's Netflix’s job to preserve and protect the filmmaker’s intentions and vision all the way up to launch. In this case, they should've taken particular care because while some might say ‘all press is good press’, for Black women, this is often not the case. This is particularly insidious when considering the historical process of Black girls being over-sexualised in the media and how this narrative has a rippled effect in reality.

I have a tendency, and I think it’s because I'm a dreamer (a daydreamer to put it more accurately), to listen to music and create movie soundtracks in my head, or think about what type of scene would fit this song. I even have a playlist on Spotify filled with songs I’d love to put in a TV show or film one day. So today I present to you a shortlist of songs that I’d like to put into a movie one day, inspired by Kaash Paige’s Teenage Fever.