Tina Kakadelis
We are in the midst of a fight for public media. In July 2025, Donald Trump signed the Rescissions Act of 2025. With one signature, he canceled more than $1 billion that was approved for public broadcasting over the course of two fiscal years. One of the organizations impacted by this decision is Black Public Media (BPM). Since its inception in 1979, BPM has used its federal funding to support independent Black filmmakers to the tune of $17 million. Julie Dash’s seminal Daughters of the Dusk, Raoul Peck’s Oscar-nominated I Am Not Your Negro, and a large library of other films exist thanks in part to BPM. Executive Director Leslie Fields-Cruz has announced the Black Stories Production Fund to ensure that BPM’s legacy will only continue to grow.
How did Fields-Cruz become the Executive Director of BPM? Ironically, the answer to that question is the very thing Fields-Cruz finds herself fighting for.
“Public television has always been a part of my life. I am probably among the early gen X-ers who grew up on Sesame Street and Zoom,” Fields-Cruz reminisces, but the love for film and television didn’t end there.
“I remember when my best friend Caroline and I, at ten years old in 1976, got on the bus and went to the movie theater to watch Star Wars. Because we were ten years old, we hid out in the bathroom and we went to watch it again,” laughs Fields-Cruz.
“Later, I was studying abroad in France. I was still trying to get a command of the language, and I found out that they had this French film class. They started in the silent era and it moved up. As we moved into the talkies, I was like, oh, I actually understand what’s going on. I don’t need subtitles.”
“When I came back, I was in my senior year and I found that they offered a course in Black film, and I took that,” continues Fields-Cruz. “I learned so much just from those two classes because they exposed me to all of these films that I didn’t know existed. I love watching films and I love talking about films, and I wanted to make sure that people knew about all of these other films that were out there. I want to make sure that people know you don’t have to just watch what networks are feeding you. That it’s good to go to festivals, or if we can work with community organizations and bring content into the communities.”
Fields-Cruz started at BPM in December 2001, a vastly different time in the political and social landscape than where we are now. Some things have changed for the better, others for the worse. In the over two decades Fields-Cruz has worked with BPM, she notes that, despite the lack of federal funding, we’re in a place where there is more enthusiasm for this content to be made available for public viewing.
“Public media expanded. It now has digital channels where content can exist. We worked closely with the WORLD Channel. They came to us when we launched our AfroPoP series. Chris Hastings and Liz Chen of WORLD Channel came in and said they wanted to have a premiere broadcast for the AfroPoP series.
“We were like, okay, so what does that mean?” says Fields-Cruz. “They said, we’ll help with the marketing and promotion. We’ll make sure it’s available to all the stations that carry WORLD. We were like, okay, let’s do it and it meant that we got this immediate access to 78% of the market like that.”
“I think back to 2001 when I would get questions from some of the programmers about our films,” Fields-Cruz goes on. “They would ask, is there cursing in this? Just because it’s about Black men you think there’s going to be cursing? We really had to push to get a decent prime time slot.”
“We picked up a number of films about Haitian Americans and the Haitian diaspora. I had comments from people who said, you have too many Haitian films. I was like, that is not your decision to make. We can have as many films about Haiti as we want to because the world needs to know.”
“Now, we don’t have those questions,” says Fields-Cruz. “Public media is more interested in exploring the diversity of the Black experience. That’s the difference. I think the movement to defund public media, the movement to try to censor Black stories, is in direct response to the fact that we were being successful. Others, too, out there who are making sure that Americans have access to diverse perspectives were successful. We were doing our job, but it made people uncomfortable because they don’t want to have the truth. That’s why we’re having to fight now, tooth and nail, to protect our ability to support the independent makers who want to tell these stories.”
The Black Stories Production Fund seeks to raise $9 million over the next two years. BPM encourages donations from large organizations and local neighbors who can spare $5. The point of the funds drive is to replace the federal funds that were taken away. It’s a tumultuous time for BPM and other non-profit groups. Fields-Cruz, as executive director, is a bit like the captain of a ship in the middle of a hurricane.
“You know, it’s not easy. I think anyone who has been an executive director of a nonprofit, in particular a nonprofit that serves underrepresented communities or is addressing social issues, knows that it’s always a challenge. As we navigate this storm, we’re looking for all the boats out there that are trying to navigate and say, let me throw you this lifeline. Hold on to it because we all have to get through this together.”
“What’s most important about this moment and about leadership is that I’m not alone,” Fields-Cruz emphasizes. “I’m working with my colleagues of the National Multicultural Alliance, and also reaching out to my colleagues who don’t work in public media anymore. What can we do together? How can we partner?”
“The 1.8 million campaign came out of an understanding that this current administration wasn’t interested in public media. We all knew that. There have always been attacks against public media in the 20-plus years I’ve been working at BPM, but I knew this was different. What I didn’t expect was the rescission that immediately created a funding gap in our organization. We knew that we needed to shift and start taking our requests directly to the people.”
“If we really want to engage with the public, they need to know who we are,” explains Fields-Cruz. “They need to understand the films that we’ve supported, and they need to recognize that these independent filmmakers are going to continue to need support. The stories they’re trying to tell are not necessarily the stories that mainstream commercial media is interested in. Yet these are the stories that make us think. These are the stories that will force us to act. These are stories that entertain us. We need to make sure they’re part of the ecosystem. It really is the first part of a much larger vision that I have for the organization to protect us from the political winds of the moment. We need to be able to function as an organization and to fund Black independent films for as long as we need to without someone saying, well, you know, we’re going to take your money because we think you’re DEI or we think you’re that.”
“I don’t care what you think. We know who we are, and we know the work we’re supporting. We know that our public media partners want this work and that they need this work. They need these programs, and we’re going to continue to do that,” Fields-Cruz emphasizes.
One of the most beneficial components of BPM is the educational arm of the organization. BPM looks at film as a means of education, both in production and execution. Unfortunately, because of the lack of funding, some of the storied programs have been put on pause. The aforementioned AfroPoP series is a collection of documentary and narrative works about contemporary life, art, and culture from the African diaspora. BPM supplies teacher guides for AfroPoP to be used in schools. For filmmakers, there are forums and incubators to develop stories and connect people so more work can be made.
“We’re still trying to figure out how to offer virtual professional development classes with seasoned makers who understand what this moment is,” Fields-Cruz expounds. “There’s a workshop that Dawn Porter is putting together for us, and we’re going to offer it, and it’s going to be free. I mean, and this is Dawn Porter. She’s a seasoned, professional, award-winning documentary filmmaker with a lot of information to impart. We’re thankful and appreciative of her wanting to work with us and wanting to do this. We’re trying to find other partners like that so we can continue to provide professional development for our makers. We’re also trying to meet quarterly with our funded makers and our formerly funded makers so we can hear about what it is that they need.”
“It’s not going to be easy, but again, we know we can’t do this in a vacuum and that we have to sort of pull all our boats together to make this happen,” Fields-Cruz continues. “We’re talking with our colleagues at the Center for Asian American Media about a summit at their film festival in May. We don’t know yet, but we’re going to work together and try to bring everyone together.”
Fields-Cruz and her mighty team at BPM are fighting an uphill battle. The gap left behind from the lack of government funding is not one that can be patched up overnight, and that puts Fields-Cruz in the uncomfortable position of having to let some of her colleagues go from their jobs at BPM. Even when circumstances feel overwhelming, what gets Fields-Cruz out of bed every single morning is that she believes in the power of storytelling. She believes that film and television have an essential role in our society that allows us to better understand ourselves and the world around us.
“I came into this space because I realized that my role is to ensure that creatives have opportunities,” Fields-Cruz states. “I love working with creatives. You hear of a film like Seeds which won big at Sundance with the US Grand Jury Prize – Documentary. Knowing that Black Public Media provided the first public dollars into that film, the first big dollars into that film…that makes me proud because we saw it. We knew its value long before everybody else did.”
“You should know this. We had to let go of three more people. Their last day was yesterday, and it was painful and it was hard, because these three people have given to this organization above and beyond. The only reason I had to let them go is because somebody decided that they didn’t like public media. That’s what pisses me off. It’s different when you let somebody go because they’re not doing their job. I recognize that there are a lot of people who have lost their jobs because of this administration, because they just decided this work isn’t worth it, they don’t value it. And, excuse my language, but that’s fucking bullshit.”
“I’m proud of the people I work with and the people I’ve worked with throughout my twenty years. I was hired by the founding executive director, Mable Haddock, who was amazing and visionary in what she knew this organization could do. I worked beneath Jacquie Jones, who was the second executive director who understood the power of digital media and was like, okay, we’re going to play in this space whether people like it or not. We’re going to try to help figure this out for our makers and work with them.”
“I wouldn’t be the leader I am today had I not worked with all those people in the past twenty years,” Fields-Cruz emphasizes. “I certainly wouldn’t be the leader I am today without the team that I have. So much of what BPM has been able to do and what we will continue to do is because of all of the people who work at this organization.”
