Do musicians have a responsibility to speak on social issues?

That’s a very complex question. When I interviewed Amandla [Stenberg] for Teen Vogue she said something like, "We’re all activists, even in just existing." I think that I always knew that but I started to channel my ideas of activism very differently. I don’t think it’s everyone’s responsibility if it’s not in their will. But I do feel conflicted when people feel like they may not have that calling, but they speak out against the movement. That, to me, is very problematic. I’d almost rather you just not speak at all. It is very painful. All that I ask is that people are sensitive to others' truths, even if it’s not their own. I don’t think everyone needs to be out here with pickets and signs and protesting; maybe their form of that is going into their office every day and standing firm as a person of color. We just have to be sensitive to each other and not criticize people as much as we do because their truth isn’t our truth, or they aren’t in the same place on the journey as we are — that’s kind of irresponsible.

You’ve spoken about some of the things you learned about your heritage and music in making this record. And a big public conversation right now is how black parents speak to their kids, especially young boys, about how to move in the world. How do you engage your son in learning about identity, in things that aren't just about trauma and fear?

I have learned so, so much in the past few years. That is the beauty of internet culture — it's having so many resources that you can instantly experience, dwell on, live with, and challenge yourself. I am a much better me because of that. I had to make this album to become a better me, but also a better mother. I couldn't carry everything and give my son the most undivided attention and love and nurturing as I was working through these battles. Something a lot of people don't realize is when you have to work through some of these traumas and challenges with yourself, and you're having to take care of another human being and make sure that they feel protected and aren't carrying any of that weight... I think that's why it was so important to have my father speak about his past traumas and creating the connectivity of how it gets passed on from generation to generation, and the way a lot of things are just not changing.

I feel like I'm more equipped now, through working that stuff out through my art and not bringing it home, and making sure that our home is a safe place filled with love and nurturing and a sense of lightness. That is the biggest blessing of this album: that I was able to channel that through my work and not bring it home. I want my son to be able to exist in this world without all of those burdens. I want him to be smart and aware, and I want him to be equipped. I don't want him to carry the burden and pass on the traumas that exist when you're existing here.

Do you see A Seat at the Table and your sister’s album, LEMONADE, as companion records in any specific way?

We have the same mother and the same father. We grew up in the same household, and so we had and heard the same conversations. One of the joys in your mom being an Instagram star is that people are, I think, starting to understand the environment that we grew up in. Through her voice and organizing, and her really being an advocate for black equality — and obviously through the intro of "Don't Touch My Hair" — people are a little clearer in terms of the upbringing that we had and us having these very politically-charged, socially-charged conversations on a daily basis. It shouldn't be surprising that two people who grew up in the same household with the same parents who are very, very aware — just like everyone else is — of all of the inequalities and the pain and suffering of our people right now, would create art that reflects that.

I'm really proud of my sister and I'm really proud of her record and her work and I've always been. As far as I'm concerned, she's always been an activist from the beginning of her career and she's always been very, very black. My sister has always been a voice for black people and black empowerment. And I give so much of that credit to my parents. My dad had a really, really, really hell of a tough time growing up. He integrated both his junior high school and his elementary school, and he also decided in the midst of that — outside of them spitting on him and hosing him down and tasering him and all of the horrific things that he went through — that he was still going to stand for equality. He participated in sit-ins, he marched, he was hosed down. He was a part of the Civil Rights movement. And I don't think that there's any way for your parents to go through of all that, and you not have a certain level of sensitivity and consciousness to what's happening around you and wanting to use your voice to reflect that.

