“What do you mean you didn’t sellout the rights to Afromation to Hallmark when they came a knocking back in the day, ‘Mr. Mykol’ D. Woods?” Two days ago while out in Near Northwest Omaha dining on Chinese food and fellowshipping, Brother Tony Hart (#Love4TH) reminded me of my unique Afromation business model back in the day. First, let me say that to protect my mental wealth, I keep my personal FB acct deactivated, only re-activating and logging back in on an avg. of once a year to prevent FB from deleting my acct with my current 777 cyber friends. As you can tell, this week I have been focused on my mother Carole Woods Harris’ (1940-2024) legacy. Now, you may have read in an earlier post, me referring to my pretty momma as “The Mother of Afromation.” What do I mean by that?

Okay, in this year of our Lord 2026, I tell folks who are “angry” and “upset” that I am a member of the K2K Generation. Not ‘TripleK’. Not Y2K. K2K [M.L. {K}ing <1968> Assassination to Rodney {K}ing <1992> LAPD Not Guilty Verdict]. My classmates and I came of age, 6YO to 30YO during this amazing ‘to be young, gifted and Black’ time window in American History of 1968-1992 that began with the erasure of Negro History by President Nixon as soon as he assumed power in 1969. Of course you had pockets in Harlem and SE Virginia and such strongholds of the 1970s Black Culture who knew their Afro-American History regardless, but well over 90% of my Gen K2K started their day off my pledging “…allegiance to the flag of the United States of America.” We were raised as Americans. We were raised as Nebraskans [your home state here]. Our race was not our #1 identity marker during the 1970s.

My nephew Thai Hudson’s parents, who I had the honor of being the best man in their wedding, were my classmates going back to the 4th grade; up until when their parents moved them away from Omaha to the Northern California and the Pacific NW, respectively. I, we, received an excellent Omaha Public School education, learning the three R’s and much, much more. As a Northwest HS Class of 80 member, the only time I recall being introduced to Blacks in anybody’s History, was at home watching the 1977 miniseries “ROOTS,” who seven episodes took over the Top 10 rankings of the most watched television shows EVER, at that time. So, we know my family was not the only ones tuning in. Myself, I could not relate to it beyond it being TV show. I had no context…and I was a free 14YO Nebraskan-American.

We were not taught Black History growing up, but all my Black friends had Black families who attended Black churches and had Black relatives down south; meaning, we had Black positive role models abound. Life was beautiful for me in 1977. 1980 came and my GEN K2K began our grown folk lives with the belief there was nothing we could not accomplish, nowhere we couldn’t go, nobody we couldn’t compete with. Then came 1992: The LA Uprising; The Carol Moseley Braun Illinois US Senate seat victory; The Carole Woods Harris Douglas County Commission seat victory; The Bill “First First-Black President” Clinton oval office victory; The Malcolm X film debut. Black political power was on rise. Afro-centricity was on the rise; again, and I caught the bug. I saw an opportunity to capture a post-1968 re-awakening market of Black consumers, by this time being called “African Americans” by Rev. Jesse Jackson (1941-2026), who were looking to spend on Black culture publications and products. I wrote up a business plan and got busy, spending a great deal of my time at the Seattle Douglass-Truth Library, the Omaha Charles B. Washington Branch Library, and the Great Plains Black Museum teaching myself my Black History. A funny thing happened along the way. The more I researched, the (even) prouder I got. When I completed my work, I now needed a title. I called my nephew {who was en route to his birth date at this time} Thai’s expecting father from a pay phone booth, in my Seattle Beacon Hill Neighborhood, using a calling card to describe to him what I had. He was the go-to brother who also handed out the nicknames and catch phrases and such. He threw a couple at me. I was not impressed. Then a few weeks later while partying at the Royal Esquire Club in Southeast Seattle, and such, one of those words/phrases he threw at me slapped me oops upside my head; “AFROMATION.” The rest is Black History Is American History.

So, March 26, 1994, we had an amazing Afromation Launch. I was an entrepreneur who saw Mo’ Money, Mo’ Money, Mo’ Money in sight. It was then time to commence the book tour, with my hometown of Omaha being the first stop. Now, here is where what Brother Tony reminded me of at the Chinese restaurant this past Saturday. I hit the Big O and gave away maybe five times more than I sold. Why? The overflowing pride that I possessed, exuded, I was now seeing in the eyes of my beautiful Black American hometown Brothers and Sisters when they held and opened up Afromation…like Brother Tony Hart. I said to myself, “THIS IS A MOVEMENT!”

It would not be long before Hallmark showed interest. Here would come the decision. Do I walk away with what could have been seven-digits in today’s money, but be able to do nothing as corporate America would have undoubtedly reburied the beautiful Black History I had just dug back up? Or, do I go in the red by taking a stance that will end up costing six-figures in yesterday’s money to keep Afromation in the Black, so I could spend what would end up being the next eleven years spreading the pride via the spreading of our beautiful Black History throughout America (1994-2005) IN REAL LIFE, by giving away as many copies of AFROMATION as fiscally possible. You got to remember, Black History was not even mainstream in Black America until Obama’s second term in 2012. Now, how do I go back to my team in the mid-90s and tell them we are never going to make a profit; that we are gonna get this Black History to our people BY ALL MEANS NECESSARY. You will never find “AFROMATION: 366 Days of American History” on anybody’s best-seller list for first the book has to be “sold” to count towards such a list. There is no best-givers list. The cloud, the AI, the algorithms knows nothing about the Afromation Movement, because I didn’t tell it, I didn’t post it, I didn’t trend it; I DID IT! Well…so, getting back to my mid-1990s business model flip…my silent partner pretty momma told me if this is that important to you. ‘Michael’, (you and I) we’ll make a way. Was it trying, of course it was. This is why I refer to her as “The Mother of Afromation.”

Black History Month 2002, which was even in the 21st Century, was still nowhere near its popularity today. But there I was, on the Afromation Highway leading the Afromation Movement. Two Chocolate Cities and their surrounding suburbs come to mind from that year and month, Greater Detroit and Greater Oakland-Eastbay. I was always in Detroit. It was Afromation’s #1 city. Detroit said, “Yeah we want that. We gochU.” And again, it was very important that money was not barrier for all those young, gifted and Black Detroiters to have their Black History starter kit in the form of Afromation to take home with them.

In the Part 1 foto collage, I’m speaking at Detroit Bates Academy and at the end I offered a free copy to any student who wanted one. I was mobbed. I told the students, “I gochU. Who do you want me to autograph your book to?” They all went home with a free copy of Afromation. Also in the Part 1 foto collage, I’m on the air taping “Sunday Morning Conversations with Renee” on WDMK-FM KISS 102.7. Good times. Proud times. Black times. Now, if Detroit had the most love for Afromation, it was Oakland that I had the most love for. Home to my Uncle and Aunt in the Lake Merritt Neighborhood, and about half hour down the Nimitz Freeway was Thai Hudson’s family home. Thai’s father, grandfather and a great uncle were all at the Seattle Afromation Launch Week in 1994. In 1996, when I first introduced the movement to Oakland, I was the honored guest of his parents. A couple times, I might have scooted toddler Thai over some a time or two so Uncle Myyk could catch some zzzz’s. Running the movement, and running with his dad, that was two full time jobs. We talkin’ bout California. For real, though, I am very grateful, appreciative and thankful to the Hudson Family, for it was good folks like them who supported the Black Culture way before it was the thing to do that allowed me to do what I was doing, now at that time under a not-for-profit model. THANK YOU FOR REMINDING ME BROTHER TONY HART. I needed to remember how all this started.

Now, getting to that iconic photo of a 7 ½YO Thai, his buddy Jason and Uncle Myyk, which was close to the age I was when I first met his dad and mom growing up in Omaha. Thai’s dad… his father and my father worked together, partied together and became North Central Omaha neighbors in the early 1970s. Anyways, I had 3 tickets to the Phoenix Suns vs Golden State Warriors game. The plan was for me to take Thai and his buddy Jason to the afternoon game at the Oakland Coliseum and then off to my Afromation lecture and booksigning at the Aquarian Rising Cultural Center on North Telegraph in North Oakland. But I learned at the last minute from Thai’s dad that the 3 tickets I was holding were actually for Sunday afternoon; the following day. Now, these 21st Century kids keeps some tight calendars; Thai’s mom kept her kids…on schedule.

So, the Suns-Warriors actual Sunday game was out for the young lads. So, I asked Thai and Jason, do you still want to go to this Afromation event with Uncle Myyk. Thai said, “Okay.” Jason seconded it. And we were off, rolling out of the suburbs up the I-880 to the Oaktown. First stop Giant Burgers. Next stop 6036 Telegraph Ave. I do my lecture on Black History. I meet and greet. They seemed to have enjoyed the outing, even though you never really know what a 7 ½YO is absorbing. Back to the Eastbay suburbs and their parents. Fast fwd to May 2016, my last time seeing Thai in person. I’m hanging with his dad, just as we have done for decades, on this particular night in his mancave slash studio. And Thai’s mom and Jason’s mom had gone out on the town that evening and made it on back to the Hudson home. And it was that night Jason’s mom told me the affect and effect that Black History Month 2002 outing with me had on her son that just touched my heart. As all young boys going through the teenage to men years come to crossroads where they have to make a decision or two; I was no different. Jason’s mom told me, Jason who, in 2016, is now a young man like Thai; she told me that night that at his crossroads moment he recalled back to his evening in Oakland with Thai and I, saying that man wrote a book, a book that turned that man’s life around, a book about 366 people who turned America’s life around, and that he coukd do good things as well. Jason’s mom said he chose the path that made her proud. I would hear from other parents whose paths I re-crossed on the Afromation Highway that told me because of my book, their kids’ lives were sent in all sorts of positive directions. BY ALL MEANS NECESSARY.

So, that next May 2016 Sunday morning Thai and Toi’s grandfather takes a photo of me, my niece and nephew. I was informed by Thai’s mom yesterday that that photo is in a prominent place in their beautiful Nevada home. Happy Hudson Family Long Birthday Weekend to my back-2-back birthdays having 2-peat Nephew Thai and Niece Toi. To my longtime lifelong friends Kerry & Jacqueline (Jones) Hudson, you know how I feel about you two too to. We talkin’ bout Thai today (he and Toi), my fellow Virgos; August 24, 1994, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! He was a fine young man.