It was a warm June day in 1979 when the echoes of a people’s rhythm turned into a national movement.
In a modest Washington, D.C. office filled with the scent of freshly brewed coffee and the hum of typewriters, a group of Black music industry leaders gathered around a worn wooden table. At the head sat Kenny Gamble—a legendary songwriter and producer who had already changed the landscape of soul and R&B. But today, he had a vision that went far beyond melodies and chart-toppers.
“We need to honor the sound that built this country,” Gamble said, his deep voice full of conviction. “Black music is the soundtrack of the American experience—spirituals, jazz, blues, gospel, R&B, hip hop—it’s all part of our legacy. But no one’s celebrating that legacy the way it should be.”
Heads nodded. Beside him sat Dyana Williams, a spirited and sharp media strategist, and Ed Wright, a seasoned radio broadcaster who had long championed Black artists over the airwaves. Together, they formed a powerhouse trio.
“What if we had a month?” Dyana said. “A month where we spotlight our artists, our culture, our stories?”
“A national Black Music Month,” Ed added, the idea gaining momentum like a gospel choir lifting its voices in unity.
Within weeks, the idea had turned into action. With letters drafted and calls made, they arranged a meeting with President Jimmy Carter. It was a long shot, but the music of Black America had always been about reaching beyond limits.
On June 7, 1979, in the East Room of the White House, under the grand chandeliers and the gaze of American history, President Carter welcomed a crowd of musicians, producers, and industry leaders. Stevie Wonder smiled in the front row. Chuck Berry stood tall, arms crossed, nodding to the beat in his mind.
Carter stepped to the podium and said, “This nation owes much of its character and greatness to the genius and soul of Black music. From gospel to Motown, jazz to funk, these songs tell the American story.”
With that, Black Music Month was born—not just as a celebration, but as a reclamation. It honored the contributions of African American musicians who had long created in the margins, who had turned struggle into sound, who had turned silence into song.
Since that day, every June has become a time to reflect, rejoice, and recognize how Black music has shaped not just America, but the world. It’s a reminder that behind every beat is a heartbeat—and behind every song, a story.
And it all began with a dream, a meeting, and the unshakable truth: Black music is American music.