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Assistant Professor of Sociology Lawrence Johnson has served as both a mentor to students and a leader in the Black Faculty and Staff (BFS) organization since joining the college in 2012.

BSF works to foster academic success for all students—particularly students of African descent—through offering support and building a collaborative community. Possessing expertise on a variety of issues from politics to sports and black masculinity, he has brought a unique perspective and expertise to both BFS and the campus as a whole. During 2025’s Black History Month, we asked Johnson about BFS’s own history, impact, and evolution at the college, as well as what advice he would give to students interested in sociology who are looking to make a difference.

The Black Faculty and Staff (BFS) organization has been active since 1971. How do you think it has evolved over that time?

BFS has changed substantially over the years. The situation of Black faculty, staff, and students is always evolving, just as things at the college are constantly changing, along with the conditions and circumstances of Black people nationally. BFS arose out of a sense of solidarity at a time when the dominant ethos in the Black community was a spirit of “nation-building”—a genuine belief that we had to take care of ourselves as a people.

In the 1970s, BFS was an effort to harness the collective strength of a small group of us on campus. When I arrived at Brooklyn College in 2012, generations had changed. So much had shifted, while some things remained exactly the same. I might be a bit nostalgic, but I believe BFS must still operate with a sense of collective influence, particularly in the interest of Black students, who continue to face many of the same historical challenges but without the benefit of historical memory.

BFS must maintain continuity between the past and present. Students today are subjected to mass distractions—social media, tightening economic realities, and an increased culture of individualism that fosters disconnection. This makes Black students particularly vulnerable because, in the past, we thrived on a strong sense of community. Community is our challenge today.

Even as a faculty member, I was fortunate to have people like George Cunningham who had been around since the 1970s, sharing stories with me when I was new here. Others with long histories, like Robert Scott and Carrie Roberts, were still active on campus. That generation is largely gone now. Since then, people have come and gone—permanence is impossible. But the best we can do is honor the past while embracing the challenges of the present.

As part of the leadership for BFS, what roles have you played and what have you brought to the table that you are most proud of?

I currently serve as treasurer and have been on the BFS executive board for six years, including two-year terms as president and vice president. Before that, I chaired the Faculty Engagement Committee. Titles are mostly formalities—the executive board works as a team, with each of us stepping up as needed. Over the past six years, Crystal Schloss-Allen has held the same positions. Currently, Donna Lee Granville (Sociology) is president, Crystal is vice president, Aleah Ranjitsingh (Africana Studies) is the other vice president, and Sherome Stone (Women’s Center) is secretary. We also rely on trusted colleagues who support us when needed.

I’m most proud of two key contributions. First, as president, I emphasized that Brooklyn College is not an isolated institution but part of central Brooklyn. During the pandemic, we hosted a successful online event with the Flatbush African Burial Ground, and since then, we’ve welcomed them back to campus twice. One of those times, we honored their president, Samantha Bernadine, with a community award during our Donning of the Kente ceremony. I’ve also invited community leaders to campus, including former State Assembly and City Councilmember Charles Barron, current State Assemblymember Stefani Zinerman, and activists from The December 12th Movement, who have led the national reparations struggle for decades. My goal is to further integrate scholarship with community engagement.

Second, I initiated bringing Donning of the Kente to campus, a project I had envisioned even before the pandemic. This May, we will proudly celebrate its third year.

You are known as a great mentor to students. What advice would you give students who are interested in studying sociology, and how do you feel it prepares them well for life after college?

The advice I would give to students is to trust and believe in themselves, embrace their status as students as much as possible, and avoid rushing the process unless absolutely necessary. Students often focus too much on the next step, but there is so much to appreciate in the present. The greatest benefit of taking their time is the opportunity to engage with staff and faculty who genuinely care about helping them. By doing so, they give themselves more time to build networks and maximize opportunities, both in the short and long term.

For current and prospective sociology students, it’s important to understand that sociology prioritizes a unique perspective on how to interpret our dynamic social world and all its moving parts. Of course, this competes with the pressure to secure a well-paying job after graduation. However, many of our students go on to work in a wide range of fields, and one common thread among them is that their sociology background has helped them better understand the context in which they work. Our graduates include educators, counselors, lawyers, social workers, politicians, and political strategists. We also have alumni in television, theater, business, entrepreneurship, and beyond.

My best advice is to embrace being a student—stay curious about the world and take the time to explore what you truly want to do. Try to silence the voice that urges you to rush through school just to start making money. That pressure never goes away, but the opportunity to learn and grow as a student is invaluable.

You contributed to the book Until We’re Seen, which was edited by fellow faculty Joseph Entin and Jeanne Theoharis and shares firsthand accounts of the pandemic’s devastating effects on working-class communities of color. What made you want to get involved with that?

I think both Joseph and Jeanne are faculty members who consistently do inspirational work with students. Faculty like them, who provide strong leadership on campus, help us reimagine what Brooklyn College can and should be. I also want to highlight Dominick Braswell, another editor. He is currently a Ph.D. student studying housing, but he was once a student in the Mellon Transfer Research Program and someone I mentored through the Black and Latino Male Initiative.

I am grateful to have been asked to contribute because there is so much to learn from our students—their experiences, perspectives, and what they bring to campus, all of which deserve deeper exploration. These insights offer us an opportunity to develop the most transformative model of education in a post-industrial city like New York.

At the book event on campus, I stated that the chapters in the text represent the unfinished revolution in higher education—one that began with the Black student activism of 1968, which led to the creation of Black Studies/Africana Studies. Even with new attacks on diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI), I still believe that our vision was never just DEI, but something far more revolutionary. The longer we delay in truly listening to and embracing what our students are telling us, the greater the chance that another institution will take the lead in implementing the student-centered changes that could define Brooklyn College’s future.

What research and initiatives are you proud of?

 My primary research has always focused on Black politics. In Until We’re Seen, I discuss the tradition of what is called “invisible politics.” It’s not a complicated concept—it refers to the vital activities Black people engage in daily to compensate for a lack of resources in our communities or to protect ourselves from vulnerabilities rooted in racism. It also represents a more authentic political expression of Black people that is not fully captured by mainstream political parties. One of the longest-standing but largely invisible political struggles in American history is the fight for reparations for enslaved Black people and their descendants, which has persisted since 1783.

Earlier, I mentioned that the December 12th Movement came to campus to discuss reparations. This event, held before Black Solidarity Day, was hosted by the student club, the Black Solidarity Day Committee, and BFS. Our guests spoke about the “Durban 400,” a group of nearly 400 people who traveled to Durban, South Africa, in 2001 for the United Nations World Conference Against Racism. The conference resulted in the Durban Declaration and Programme of Action, which formally established in international law that the trans-Atlantic slave trade was a crime against humanity. Since then, the reparations movement has become more visible to the public but remains fragmented.

My current project aims to produce contemporary scholarship on the subject to deepen the understanding of reparations as an organizing tradition, a political movement, and a revolutionary force. I seek to connect this struggle to developments in the Caribbean and on the African continent, highlighting its global significance, which starts with the December 12th Movement.

We are getting prepared for Commencement. Can you tell us a little bit about the origins of the annual Donning of the Kente ceremony and its significance to students and faculty at Brooklyn College?

The most direct origin of Donning of the Kente (DOK) dates back to the African-centered education movement in the early 1990s. It was a deliberate effort to introduce culturally relevant pedagogy and curriculum while addressing the erasure of African people from world and U.S. history. A key aspect of this movement was reconnecting with the cultural motifs of the earlier Black Power movement, during which we began embracing Africa as a place of tradition and history to take pride in. The Kente cloth, in particular, symbolizes Pan-Africanism and is closely associated with Ghana and its former president Kwame Nkrumah.

When I was an undergraduate at Iowa State University in 2002, I participated in a Kente ceremony, and I know that Africana Studies at Brooklyn College has been “donning” its graduating students with Kente for years. Donning of the Kente at is an effort to recognize all graduating students who identify as Black of African descent. Last year’s theme was “Woven Tapestry” to reflect the diversity of Black students who come from all over the world and to acknowledge that our achievements are shared accomplishments that strengthen our community. Our unity on campus enhances social life as a whole. The theme of this year’s ceremony is based on the Akan principle of Sankofa, which emphasizes the importance of remembering our history to move forward.

Through DOK, we hope our students understand that Black history encompasses both triumphant accomplishments and painful lessons that equip us to navigate the present and future. Along with Black Solidarity Day, DOK is one of BFS’ two signature events. Although we often face financial hurdles in making this happen, we are empowered by our history and the belief that our students deserve to be recognized. Please celebrate with us on Friday, May 2. If you would like to get involved or support us, please email blackfacultyandstaff@brooklyn.cuny.edu.