Voice of Waste Masks

Born on a slave ship in 1729, Ignatius Sancho defied every expectation of his era to become a celebrated composer, writer, actor, and the first Black person to vote in a British election. This documentary brings to life his extraordinary journey from enslaved child to Georgian England's most fascinating literary figure—a man who used wit, talent, and sheer determination to forge an identity in a world that said he couldn't exist. His letters, published posthumously, remain a powerful testament to Black intellectual life in 18th-century Britain.

In 1879, Mary Eliza Mahoney became the first African American licensed nurse in the United States—a groundbreaking achievement that required her to endure unimaginable discrimination while maintaining impeccable professionalism. This documentary honors her unwavering commitment to healthcare excellence and her role in paving the way for generations of Black nurses. At a time when most nursing schools refused Black applicants, Mahoney's success challenged the medical establishment and proved that excellence knows no color.

Dr. Matilda C. Evans made history twice: as South Carolina's first African American woman physician and as a tireless advocate for community health in underserved Black communities. In an era when Black patients were often refused treatment at white hospitals, Dr. Evans opened her own hospital and training school for Black nurses, creating a healthcare ecosystem where none existed. This documentary reveals her entrepreneurial spirit, medical expertise, and radical belief that quality healthcare is a human right—not a privilege.

"Is it the real McCoy?" This ubiquitous phrase traces back to Elijah McCoy, a Black-Canadian inventor whose automatic lubrication system revolutionized the railroad industry. Despite holding over 50 patents, McCoy faced relentless discrimination and knockoff products so inferior that railroad engineers demanded "the real McCoy." This documentary celebrates his engineering genius and explores how systemic racism tried—and failed—to erase his legacy. Today, every time someone asks if something is "the real thing," they're unknowingly honoring a Black inventor.