New Gantt exhibit embraces the spirit and style of Black motorcycle culture

When photographer Alvin C. Jacobs Jr. picks up a camera, he’s doing more than taking pictures. He’s building community, preserving overlooked histories and challenging assumptions about Black life and culture.

An award-winning activist and documentary photographer, Jacobs is known for his work chronicling social justice movements, everyday Black life and historically marginalized communities. His projects have been exhibited at institutions like the Levine Museum of the New South and the Mint Museum, and his work has been recognized nationally for its unflinching, empathetic portrayal of Black resilience and resistance.

Jacob’s newest exhibition, “Black Behind Bars: The Untold Story of Black Biker Culture,” takes viewers inside the vibrant, often misunderstood world of Black motorcycle riders. It’s at the Harvey B. Gantt Center for African-American Arts + Culture through Sept. 21.

Co-curated with Keith Cradle and Ricky Singh, the exhibition invites audiences to see motorcycles not just as machines, but as symbols of freedom, healing and self-definition — themes deeply personal to Jacobs himself.

A legacy of motorcycle movement

Jacobs’ connection to Black biker culture is more than aesthetic. It involves family too.

“I’m part of a third-generation motorcycle family,” he told The Charlotte Observer in a recent interview. His father’s club was founded in Rockford, Illinois, in 1977, and just last month, Jacobs’ son bought his first Harley-Davidson.

Growing up in Rockford, within walking distance of the oldest Harley-Davidson dealership in the world, motorcycles were a constant backdrop.

“It wasn’t just the bikes,” Jacobs said. “It was the energy, the art, the freedom you could see in the way these men carried themselves. They were coming back from the war, looking for brotherhood. When they couldn’t find it, they built it.”

Yet for much of his youth, Jacobs was an observer. His mother forbade him from riding, wary of the dangers. It wasn’t until adulthood that Jacobs bought his first bike, and in doing so, formed a new bond with his father.

“We got to ride together,” he said. “It was something we could finally share.”

Building the wall for Black faces

The idea for “Black Behind Bars” came during a visit to the Harley-Davidson Museum in Milwaukee. While admiring the history and craftsmanship, Jacobs couldn’t help but notice the absence of Black stories.

It called to mind a scene from Spike Lee’s classic 1989 film “Do the Right Thing,” when character “Buggin’ Out” demands to know why Sal’s Pizzeria has no Black faces on the wall. Jacobs didn’t write an angry letter to the museum. He picked up his camera.

“If you want Black people on the wall,” Jacobs said, “you build your own wall.”

He began traveling to bike rallies and club events , from Daytona Beach, Florida, to Myrtle Beach to small towns across North and South Carolina — documenting a culture he had known his whole life but now saw with new urgency.

Layers of meaning behind the Gantt exhibit

The exhibition’s title, “Black Behind Bars,” carries multiple meanings. The most immediate reference is to the literal handlebars of a motorcycle.

But the phrase also nods to something deeper. Jacobs speaks openly about the mental prisons he once inhabited: self-doubt, imposter syndrome, fear. “I couldn’t get out of my own way for years,” he said. “Motorcycling became a form of throttle therapy. It freed me.”

For Jacobs, the exhibition is as much about mental health and healing as it is about machines. It’s about liberation, from societal barriers, internalized limitations and the weight of expectations.

Known for his documentary work around social justice movements, Jacobs approaches his subjects with respect, care, and humility, which is especially critical in tight-knit, historically insular communities like motorcycle clubs.

“You can’t just show up and start taking pictures,” Jacobs said. “Everything doesn’t need to be documented. You must know where you are, know your place and move with respect.”

Instead of flashy group shots or sensational images, Jacobs focused on moments of quiet pride: a rider polishing a custom bike, a glance exchanged between club brothers, the solitude of a long highway ride.

His goal, he said, was to capture “the spirit, not just the style” of the culture. He hopes that visitors to the show will witness the emotional and communal dimension to every frame, a cinematic quality that evokes not just movement but belonging.

Carrying forward the legacy of Black bikers

The exhibition includes prominent Black women riders as well.

“It was important to show the full reality,” Jacobs said. “Black women have always been a part of this culture.”

Some of the featured women are well-known figures in the community — leaders and influencers in their own right — whose presence underscores the expansiveness and inclusivity of the Black biker world.

What’s more, Black motorcycle culture has long been a site of both resistance and reclamation.

After World War II, many Black veterans sought to recreate the brotherhood they found in the military, only to face discrimination from white motorcycle clubs and dealerships. They responded by forming their own clubs and building networks of self-sufficiency, pride and mutual support.

Figures like Bessie Stringfield, a pioneering Black woman motorcyclist, and William B. Johnson, the first Black Harley-Davidson dealer, helped shape a parallel culture where Black riders could claim space and visibility on their own terms.

Jacobs sees today’s Black biker community as carrying that legacy forward.

“There’s a self-sufficiency here,” he said “Land ownership, self-defense, mechanical skills, resilience — it’s a different layer of Black life you don’t always see represented.”

Bikers earn respect not just by owning a bike, but by putting down miles, crossing state lines, pulling up far from home under their own power.

“Respect is earned through the miles you ride,” Jacobs said. “You can’t buy it. You have to live it.”

Plans for ‘Black Behind Bars’ beyond the Gantt

In a fitting full-circle moment, Harley-Davidson — the iconic brand that once largely excluded Black riders — sponsored the opening reception April 25 for Black Behind Bars. It’s a milestone that reflects not only Jacobs’ achievement, but the growing recognition of Black contributions to motorcycle history and culture.

For Jacobs, Black Behind Bars is just the beginning.

He plans to expand the project into a multi-city documentary series, publish a book and continue building a platform dedicated to celebrating Black biker culture and advancing conversations around mental health.

“I want to create space for this culture not just in Charlotte, but around the country and eventually around the world,” he said.

He’s also found a new passion for speaking engagements, where he hopes to further share the stories, struggles and triumphs embedded in the biker community.

Ultimately, Jacobs hopes visitors leave “Black Behind Bars” with a sense of connection and a reminder of their own closeness to freedom.

“You know how your motorcycle mirror says ‘Objects are closer than they appear’?” he asked. “It’s like that. Your happiness, your peace, your liberation, it’s closer than you think. You just have to keep moving toward it.”

In the end, “Black Behind Bars” isn’t just about motorcycles. It’s about motion. About moving through fear. About riding into freedom, dignity, and joy — full throttle.

Want to go?

“Black Behind Bars: The Untold Story of Black Biker Culture” is on view at the Harvey B. Gantt Center for African-American Arts + Culture, 551 S. Tryon St., Charlotte, through Sept. 21.

More arts coverage

Want to see more stories like this? Sign up here for our free, award-winning “Inside Charlotte Arts” newsletter: charlotteobserver.com/newsletters. And you can join our Facebook group, “Inside Charlotte Arts,” by going here: facebook.com/groups/insidecharlottearts.

This story was originally published April 29, 2025 at 5:44 AM.