Superman. Wonder Woman. Batman. The Flash. These comic book heroes have something in common—and we’re not just talking about capes and superpowers. Historically they’ve been portrayed as white characters on the silver screen, in graphic novels, and in comic books.

“When kids only see a white Superman, a white Batman, or a white Wonder Woman, kids start to internalize that, and they start to think maybe black people aren’t superheroes,” says 27-year-old Chaka Cumberbatch. The Dallas resident is the creator of “28 Days of Cosplay,” a social media campaign running during Black History Month to highlight cosplayers of color.

“When you see these images of black people in costumes, it opens up a whole new world,” she says. “As someone who grew up as a black nerd, that’s something that I looked for. I got to the point where I understood that all of the main characters are white, and they’re never black.”

Related This Awesome Campaign Tells Privileged Fanboys That Comics Are for Everyone

Cosplayers are known to show up in droves, dressed as their favorite characters, at comic events such as San Diego Comic-Con. As an avid cosplayer (a portmanteau of the words “costume” and “player”) who has transformed herself into Disney’s Princess Tiana, Dee from Rat Queens, and more, Cumberbatch fell in love with the creativity of the movement after attending her first convention, Project A-Kon, in 2008.

But as her appreciation for comic book characters and fan culture grew, she began to be frustrated by the lack of diversity—and she started asking questions.

“Why aren’t they black? Why aren’t they Asian, Hispanic, or female? Why isn’t there more diversity?” she says.

That’s where “28 Days of Cosplay” comes in. In addition to connecting black cosplayers from around the world, the campaign aims to push back against the narrative that only white people can be heroes. It’s a conversation the comic book industry and some superhero fans also seem to be grappling with.

Last year, the decision to cast an African American actor, Michael B. Jordan, as the Human Torch in the Fantastic Four reboot was met with harsh criticism by comic book loyalists who balked at the idea of the fictional character being reimagined as black. Although the Human Torch’s race isn’t integral to his story line, Jordan said the backlash was “expected.”

“People don’t like change too much,” Jordan told an audience in Rome last March. “You can’t make everybody happy. You just gotta accept that and know. I’m an actor; I have to do my job. I’m going to do my job the best I can and the way I’ve been doing it my entire life, my entire career.”

While some fans cried foul, blerds—black nerds—embraced Jordan’s casting because it meant that they’d finally see someone who looks like them on screen.

Last year industry powerhouse Marvel made news for releasing the All-New Captain America comic: It features an African American lead, a Hispanic Spider-Man, and a Muslim Ms. Marvel. The message? The world is changing, and comic books need to reflect it.

“Roles in society aren’t what they used to be. There’s far more diversity,” Axel Alonso, Marvel Comics’ editor in chief, told The Associated Press. “When you take an African American man and dress him in the red white and blue of the flag, of the United States flag,...there’s symbolism in that, that is more potent and more thought-provoking,” he said.

Cumberbatch agrees. “I think it’s really great because it showcases diversity and makes people feel like it’s OK for them to join in,” she said of the movement.

Not everyone in the cosplay community is open to inclusion, especially when people of color dress up as traditionally white characters.

“There’s still certain segments of the population that see you as the black version of [a character] before they look at you as that particular character,” says Harry Crosland, an avid cosplayer and founder of Pop Culture Uncovered.

Initially Crosland tried to stick to portraying black comic characters, such as Green Lantern, but soon it felt too limiting. “Honestly there was a little bit of fear, because I wasn’t sure how people were going to take it,” he says. “I wanted to be Superman. I wanted to do characters that were established as others because those were my favorite characters.”

Crosland and his wife pushed past their hesitancy and began dressing up as traditionally white comic characters. What happened was kind of amazing.

“A couple of my friends and I are starting a community service organization called CosLove,” Crosland says. “The purpose is to help the community, because there are a lot of kids who are involved in comic books and love the movies, but they get really inspired by seeing people dressed up as well.”

Crosland and his crew have worked with Toys for Tots and veterans organizations like Operation Homefront. He tries to encourage and inspire other people by sharing his love of cosplay. It’s exactly what Cumberbatch hoped for when she proposed the idea of “28 Days of Cosplay” to her peers.

“The reason we come together is not to elevate or separate ourselves because we’re black. This is about people coming together to celebrate each other and support each other’s work,” she says, emphasizing that black cosplayers just want to be seen as equals in the community.

Crosland echoes Cumberbatch’s thoughts. “We matter,” he says. “We do it for the exact same reason other people do cosplay: We love the characters. We know who we are, and we’re proud of who we are, and we just want to be accepted.”