“We were really tired of the media narrative around Black men.” From that frustration, Darlene King-Turner – CEO & President of The Unity Collective – helped birth the National Black Men in Leadership Conference, now in its fifth year and returning to Huntington Place this December as a direct response to the murder of George Floyd and generations of distorted images of Black manhood. In this Detroit is Different episode, she traces her roots from Georgia and Alabama to the downriver 48217/Southwest Detroit corridor – a Black community of steelworkers, teachers, Black doctors, and midwives – and connects that history to today’s environmental injustice, noting that those zip codes carry some of the state’s highest cancer rates while being “forgotten when it’s time for capital and funding.” Darlene walks us through being sent as a 17-year-old to a mostly white Christian college in the U.P. so she could “learn how America really operates,” then coming back to Wayne State in the early ’90s as Africana Studies, Kente stoles, and Black graduation reshaped campus culture. From building Wayne RESA’s first professional development and events department to crafting its first diversity strategy, she breaks down how “diversity brought people in the door, inclusion tried to make them feel like they belonged, but equity is what really shook the table,” and why equity isn’t “taking something from you to give to someone else,” but giving people what they need to thrive. We unpack DEI’s current backlash and Project 2025, why Black men still hold only 3.2% of leadership roles nationally, and why some are now afraid to even attend a conference with “Black” in the title, even as Darlene insists that “until Black men are in the boardrooms and the C-suites, this country will not grow in the way it needs to.” She frames this year’s theme, The Power of Us, as both a call to action and an extension of the Civil Rights fight – from Detroit’s African-centered education battles to today’s reparations and racial equity work – making this episode a blueprint for how legacy Black Detroit is shaping the future of Black leadership and why loving on Black men in public is essential to the next chapter of our culture.

“Detroiters are our assignment editors.” That line from Orlando Bailey sets the tone for a conversation that is both legacy-rooted and forward-looking, as he sits back in the Detroit is Different studio and walks us through his evolution from a kid in Youth on the Edge of Greatness to Executive Director of Outlier Media—one of Detroit’s most trusted sources for civic truth. In this episode, Orlando reflects on growing up East Side under the watchful love of giants like Maggie DeSantis and Donna Givens Davidson, describing ECN as an organization that “walked right beside me my entire life.” He breaks down the weight of Black leadership today, especially in a media landscape where “the truth is incendiary to the chambers of power,” and shares how becoming an ED forced him to be “as open, as honest, and with as many eyes on my stuff as possible.” We talk collard green juice on the gym floor, judges who need robes, and why Detroit storytelling—done authentically—remains the strongest defense against erasure. With wisdom, humor, and Detroit cultural fluency, Orlando unpacks everything from the future of local journalism to the politics of public transit to the spiritual power of Black people telling the truth about themselves. This episode is Detroit past, Detroit present, and Detroit future talking to each other in real time.

“Write it down, make it plain.” That’s how Cornetta Lane Smith steps into the Detroit is Different studio—rooted, ready, and carrying her grandmother’s legacy with her. Across this powerful conversation, Cornetta drops stories that pull you straight into the heart of Black Detroit lineage: her grandmother migrating from “two blocks of Grand Junction, Tennessee” to Greenlawn; discovering their sharecropper past through census records; and standing on the road where the plantation her ancestors survived once sat—“We realized the street changed from Plantation Road to Elliot Road. I said, this has to be it.” She shares how grief, curiosity, and faith led her to create Recipes of Resistance, a docu-series blending food, memory, and truth-telling, because “the role of the storyteller is to humanize people—especially now, when trust is disappearing.” Cornetta opens up about love, loss, religion, politics, Arab–Black Detroit relationships, and why understanding where we come from is essential to shaping where we go as Black Detroiters. This is an episode that stitches together the past and future of Legacy Black Detroit with the tenderness of a family recipe and the urgency of a people reclaiming their story.

“He was one of the first Black independent record producer of the postwar era — and nobody knew.” That’s the spark Marsha Music brings into this powerful Detroit Is Different conversation as she unravels the epic, unsung story of her father, Joe Von Battle — the man who recorded Reverend C.L. Franklin, who cut Aretha’s first records, and who captured the raw blues heartbeat of Black Detroit before Motown ever learned to walk. Through laughter, testimony, and hard truth, Marsha paints a living portrait of migration from Macon to Black Bottom, of a father who “refused to ever work for another man,” and of a city built by people who “carried their music wherever they went.” She shares how tuberculosis quarantines, foundry labor, postwar factory shifts, and the destruction of Hastings Street shaped — and scarred — her family’s journey. But she also gives us the beauty: John Lee Hooker sleeping on their couch, Kenny Burrell’s first recording happening behind the record-shop glass, and the way the Franklin sermons were rushed to the Guardian Building to be broadcast across the country on CKLW. Marsha doesn’t just talk history — she makes it breathe. She shows how the past explains the present: why the rebellion still echoes, why Detroit sound can’t be separated from Detroit struggle, and why honoring “the people who built this place with their hands and their voices” is the key to our cultural future.