
Black culture doesn’t just “influence” the mainstream — it builds it. When Black creatives are in the driver’s seat, the impact shows up everywhere: in how stories are framed, how people look on screen, what language becomes universal, and how brands learn (sometimes for the first time) to speak to real humans.
Below are four moments our team nominated — each created by, led by, or decisively shaped by a Black creative — that changed the expectations for media, marketing, and culture at large.
A lot of people think the Super Bowl halftime show naturally grew into a global music event. But one of the clearest turning points traces back to a Black creative strategy move of counterprogramming halftime.
In 1992, Fox aired a live In Living Color special during the Super Bowl halftime — a bold stunt linked to the show created by Keenen Ivory Wayans. It’s reported that roughly 20+ million viewers flipped over during halftime. (YouTube)
That wasn’t just a ratings win. It was proof of a deeper insight that halftime wasn’t “dead time.” It was available attention, proving that if you offered something funnier, sharper, more alive, the audience would follow.
The NFL responded fast. The next year, the league booked the legendary Michael Jackson for Super Bowl XXVII, explicitly framed as an effort to boost halftime viewership after the In Living Color disruption — a performance often credited as the moment halftime became a “must-watch” spectacle.
Since then, the star-studded halftime era has had many chapters. But one strategic wedge, driven by Black creators who understood audience behavior, cracked open the entire modern format.
In 1999–2000, Budweiser ran a campaign that didn’t feel like a campaign. It felt like somebody’s living room.
A group of Black friends. A couch. A game on TV. A phone call. And the greeting “Whassup?!”
The “Whassup?!” campaign grew out of a short film (“True”) written and directed by Charles Stone III, and the ad spots became a worldwide phenomenon, launching the exaggerated delivery into the mainstream as a repeatable, instantly recognizable cultural signal. (YouTube)
Part of why it worked is because it didn’t present Blackness as a costume or a stereotype for a brand moment. It simply portrayed a familiar truth — friendship, boredom, humor, cadence — and trusted audiences to come along. The catchphrase already existed in Black vernacular. The commercial scaled it into a shared language across schools, offices, sports culture, and basically every “dude, what’s up” moment for years.
Before “purpose marketing” became a trend (and before a lot of it became… performative), Dove’s Campaign for Real Beauty pushed a radically simple idea: women don’t need to be fixed to be worthy of visibility.
The campaign launched in 2004 under Unilever’s Dove brand, in collaboration with agency partners including Ogilvy. It became one of the most influential modern brand platforms because it didn’t just feature “real women.” It challenged the cultural machinery that teaches people to see themselves as problems.
Cheryl Overton was a key leader from the client side — the kind of strategist who doesn’t just approve work, but helps shape the insight, protect the message, and ensure multicultural resonance. Overton led/spearheaded Dove’s “Campaign for Real Beauty” among other major initiatives.
Diversity in leadership matters. Because cultural change in advertising often requires someone inside the brand to be brave enough to fight for the human truth, not just the safe version that won’t upset anyone.
When Insecure hit HBO, it did more than give audiences a sharp, funny, emotionally honest portrait of Black life. It also made a craft decision that should’ve been standard all along. It treated Black skin as cinematic, dimensional, and worthy of nuance, not something to “fix” with harsh exposure.
The series was co-created by Issa Rae and Larry Wilmore. But one of the biggest cultural shifts happened at the level of how the show was photographed. Director of Photography Ava Berkofsky discussed intentionally rethinking lighting approaches so darker complexions looked striking and natural – especially in challenging environments like club scenes, where cameras and conventional lighting often fail brown skin.
That’s what made the impact feel so profound. Representation wasn’t only about who was on screen. It was also about the craft decisions behind the camera and the technical respect that makes people look like themselves, beautifully. That craft mattered culturally. Insecure helped change what audiences expect from “professional” lighting and color, proving that the issue was never Black skin. It was the standard.
Each example is different — cinematography, comedy, brand strategy, sports entertainment — but they share one throughline:
Black creatives didn’t just make something popular. They changed the rules of the medium.
Representation isn’t only about who appears in the spot. It’s who shapes the lens, the language, the timing, the truth. These examples remind us that the most powerful marketing doesn’t simply reflect culture. It respects it, studies it, and sometimes gets out of its way.
So, the next time you’re tempted to default to what’s worked before, ask yourself, is our strategy expanding what’s possible, or reinforcing what’s familiar? Because the campaigns people remember aren’t just well-produced. They’re the ones that make everyone else raise the bar.