The Rhythm of Resistance: Lucas Rivera’s Art in Motion
Lucas Rivera discusses his journey as a multidisciplinary artist, the challenges of writing My AfroRican State of Soul, the intersection of art and activism, and his commitment to uplifting Afro-Latinx voices.
Lucas Rivera is not just a writer—he is a force. A visionary. A storyteller whose words pulse with the rhythm of ancestral drums, whose art is an act of reclamation, and whose leadership has redefined the landscape of cultural equity and community-driven storytelling. With a career that seamlessly intertwines literature, music, and activism, Rivera stands as a testament to the transformative power of art.
His critically acclaimed book, My AfroRican State of Soul, is more than a literary achievement—it is a sonic and poetic odyssey through identity, resilience, and self-discovery. Blending memoir with verse, Rivera crafts a narrative that is both deeply personal and universally resonant, earning him prestigious accolades such as the Titan Book Award and the International Latino Book Award. But his impact does not end on the page. As a musician, he fuses the ancestral sounds of Bomba, Rumba, and Hip-Hop, creating immersive performances that bridge generations and cultures. His work, whether in literature, music, or cultural strategy, is an unrelenting call to honour the past while shaping the future.
Beyond his artistry, Rivera has been a catalyst for change in the cultural sector. From spearheading the creation of Grand Park in Los Angeles—transforming it into a vibrant hub of artistic and civic engagement—to founding Sakul Creative, an agency dedicated to empowering artists and organisations, his contributions have left an indelible mark on the industry. His leadership at organisations such as Fairplex and The Music Center has redefined how communities experience and access art, ensuring that historically marginalised voices are amplified, not silenced.
In this conversation, Rivera shares insights into the challenges of writing with raw honesty, the fusion of art and activism, and the responsibility of storytelling in an ever-evolving social landscape. His words are both an inspiration and a challenge—to create boldly, to honour one’s roots, and to never apologise for taking up space.
Lucas Rivera is a visionary whose artistry transforms storytelling into activism, preserving history while inspiring new generations through words, music, and cultural leadership.
How do your Afro-Latinx roots influence your storytelling and artistic expression?
My writing is the echo of our drums, the whispered prayers of my ancestors, the heartbeat of my people. It is the call-and-response of a history that refuses to be erased, a song passed down through generations, woven into my words. My work is the struggle of an Afro-Latino navigating a country that sees me as other, but it is also the joy—the unbreakable rhythm, the dance of resilience, the triumph of being both Black and Latino. My stories are not just written; they are felt, they are heard, they are alive.
What was the most challenging part of writing My AfroRican State of Soul, and how did you overcome it?
The hardest part was pouring myself into the book—every poem a living, breathing memory. Writing it meant revisiting wounds I thought had closed, holding moments in my hands that still burned. The most difficult? Forgiveness. Writing my truth about my father—someone who had been a constant storm in my life—and offering him love instead of resentment was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But it was also the most freeing. For the first time, I wrote what forgiveness looked like for me. And in doing so, I gave myself peace.
How do you balance your work as a writer, musician, and cultural strategist while maintaining a unified artistic vision?
My work is a self-portrait painted in different mediums—written, sung, composed, produced. Each form is just another brushstroke, another note in the melody of who I am. I don’t separate them because they are all rooted in the same place: my truth. The vision stays clear because it is me, and I move through each art form with the same purpose—to tell our stories, to uplift our voices, to make sure we are seen.
Can you share a particularly memorable experience from your work in community engagement and cultural equity?
The most unforgettable moment? Seeing a student from our Latin jazz program earn a full scholarship to Berklee College of Music. That hit different. To know that a kid from the hood—someone who might have never had access to that kind of opportunity—got the tools, the confidence, and the foundation to not just dream but achieve? That brought tears to my eyes. This is why I do the work. To place my people in front of doors they were never meant to enter and watch them walk through like they belong there—because they do.
How do you see the intersection of art, activism, and identity evolving in today’s social climate?
Art has never existed outside of activism—it has always been a weapon, a shield, a declaration. From Nina Simone’s voice shaking the establishment to Diego Rivera’s murals carving resistance into stone, our art has never been separate from our fight. Today, it is the same. Our art moves like we move—it marches, it protests, it demands to be heard. It is rage and it is love. It is the wound and the healing. It is the reflection of our struggle and the vision of what we are building.
“Art has never existed outside of activism—it has always been a weapon, a shield, a declaration.” – Lucas Rivera
What advice would you give to emerging artists who want to blend different artistic mediums like you do?
Be real. Be you. Your art is your amplifier—so make sure what you’re amplifying is raw, honest, and rooted in integrity. Don’t chase trends, don’t fit into molds that weren’t made for you. The more you you are, the more powerful your work will be. And don’t let anyone tell you to pick one lane—if you have multiple languages of expression, speak them all.
What guidance would you offer to other authors looking to incorporate their cultural heritage into their writing authentically?
You don’t incorporate your culture into your writing—you are your culture, and that naturally spills onto the page. Our language, our imagery, our rhythm—it all comes from who we are. Be bold in that. Write the stories they say are too niche, too raw, too taboo. We don’t need permission to exist in literature. The world may not always be ready for us, but that has never stopped us from creating anyway.
EDITOR’S CHOICE
A powerful, poetic masterpiece—raw, rhythmic, and deeply moving. Rivera’s voice resonates with authenticity, bridging generations through identity, struggle, and art.
