The familiar words of Michael Jackson’s “P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing)” blared from the open double doors of the Russell House ballroom. The interior was unrecognizable, bulbs outlining a runway shrouded in black that faced a mass of 500 or more students.
I entered on a swell of cheering for the procession of models, all USC students, swathed in saturated fabrics. The program fell from my hand as I juggled my pen, notebook, press pass and phone, and I wondered how in my third year at USC I’d only heard of this event 10 minutes before I was sent to cover it and 20 minutes after it had already started.
Held annually by the Association of African American Students (AAAS), the fashion show, entitled "Rhythm of a Nation," is a celebration and affirmation of African American culture and beauty.
On a campus that is around 77 percent white, the inclusion of minority students can be difficult for the university as a whole. Minority students make up approximately 23 percent of the student body, while black students alone make up 10 percent — more than double the next largest minority on campus. While the university has attempted to create a home for minority groups on campus — establishing the Office of Multicultural Student Affairs (OMSA) for just that purpose — the organizations fostered by OMSA have largely remained separate from the student body.
It’s no surprise — and no new phenomenon — that I was unaware of AAAS’ show. While events like the fashion show are an attempt to bridge the gap within the student body, these attempts often fail and instead highlight the exclusion of minority students from the Gamecock family.
“With clubs like this, I feel like … I am a part of something big, but as a whole campus I don’t feel like we’re represented as much,” second-year biological sciences student Des’ja Isaiah said at intermission. “So we need clubs like this AAAS … (because) we should all feel wanted around the campus.”
This year’s fashion show focused on the exclusion of African Americans on a national level, mirroring, perhaps unintentionally, the problem on campus. The show addressed the often-overlooked contributions of the African American community to today’s fashion and music through modern interpretations of black fashion from different eras in history.
Bold, colorfully printed shirts, tight jumpsuits, accented blazers and meticulously applied lipstick made glorious appearances on the runway before intermission. During the break, I saw a petite Jada Samuel step from behind the makeshift curtains cordoning off those involved in the show. I initially mistook her — the director of the event — for one of the models.
After batting away my compliments with assurances that she doesn’t normally dress like this, we walked to a quiet place for the interview. Along the way, Samuel shouted encouragement, praise and thanks to the models before settling in to explain the event’s theme of fashion as a representation of history and progress.
“Our first era is the present day, the modern culture that we live in, and so the music and the fashion [were] taken from just today. Then the second scene is Africa, which takes a look at African music and dance … and then it just goes throughout history,” Samuel, a second-year broadcast journalism student, said. “The African slave period, the Harlem Renaissance of the ‘20s, the Soul of the ‘60s and ‘70s, Dope is ‘80s and ‘90s and the finale is a look at our future.”
Back in the ballroom, models danced along to the music, the audience’s appreciative hoots and applause punctuating their moves. Two models in particular — she in a short, sky blue, collared, elbow-length romper open two buttons down, he in a printed button-down paired with fern green pants and brown leather accents — elicited catcalls and cheering from the audience that culminated as the two met mid-stage for a too-short moment of dancing.
In tune with the atmosphere created by the models and the music, the crowd ebbed and flowed as the show went on — clapping at the appropriate moments, exclaiming at others and dancing throughout. Then, a disembodied voice rang out through the ballroom, ending the Dope segment and ushering in the grand finale.
Several minutes of uncomfortable music passed with no action on stage, and the crowd — once buoyant — deflated visibly. Finally three dancers, draped in black, took to the stage and paused as the audience held its breath.
They danced gracefully forward, ushering in the last era: the future. Despite, or maybe because of, the music, the crowd remained solemn as unsmiling models outfitted entirely in black walked to opposite ends of the stage. The silence was unbroken throughout the era, save for one involuntary, collective gasp at the appearance of a statuesque student in sheer lace, voluminous curls haloing her face. The last student’s descent backstage signaled the return of all the models to the runway one by one, amassing into a unified vision in front of the garnet curtains at their backs. The audience’s silence broke with a roar as two models emerged from between the rows and stepped onstage holding signs proclaiming, “Black Lives Matter.”
I did not join in the cheering. Awe rooted me against the wall even after the applause ended and people started filing out of the room. (Somewhere in the back of my head, a voice pointed out that I needed to get my last interview. I ignored it, for now.) A college fashion show had captured the tone and heart of a social movement. A college fashion show had, in the space of an hour, created a community. I witnessed something unfold in the darkened ballroom that I still have a hard time putting into words.
In the hall, after the show, I spoke with model and second-year finance student Kiyauna McGirth to ask whether she believed USC students were aware of the African American community’s efforts and presence on campus.
“I think they’re aware, it’s just about getting them to come out and see that we go to this university too, and we want to have fun just like you,” McGirth said. “We come and support you guys, come and support us. We are a Gamecock family, a community as one and we should all be in support of each other, no matter what race, religion, whatever. It should be just a celebration for everyone.”