As Panteras Em Nome: Do Pai E Da Filha

, 26, never met her father. He was killed in a police raid in 1996, when her mother was seven months pregnant. Growing up, she knew him only through his writings: notebooks filled with poetry, political theory, and a single line underlined: “My daughter will be free.”

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In the Name of the Father and the Daughter: The Rise of a New Generation of Black Panthers

The police hesitated. Then, one by one, some officers lowered their shields. as panteras em nome do pai e da filha

There is a photograph that circulates in the underground archives of Brazil’s Black movement: a man with a raised fist, an afro like a lion’s mane, a leather jacket with a painted panther. Beside him, a girl of maybe seven, her own fist raised—not in imitation, but in inheritance.

Not war cries. Lullabies.

“My father was arrested three times before I turned ten,” says , 34, a public defender in Salvador. “He never told me to hate. He told me to prepare. ‘The system will try to break your body,’ he said. ‘So build a mind it cannot touch.’” , 26, never met her father

They don’t carry guns. They carry books, cameras, and legal briefs. Meet the young women redefining Black militancy through legacy and love. By [Author Name]

In the 1970s and 80s, Black Panther–inspired movements emerged across Latin America—not as a copy of Oakland, but as a local cry against police terror, land theft, and state neglect. In Brazil, groups like the Movimento Negro Unificado (MNU) and Pantheras Negras (an unofficial, localized network) were led largely by men. They faced torture, exile, and death.

“The fathers taught us to be brave,” Janaína says. “But they didn’t always teach us to be safe. We are teaching our daughters both.” Then, one by one, some officers lowered their shields

“My father gave me his name, but I give it new meaning,” says , 41, a photographer documenting the movement. “He believed in armed resistance. I believe in armed existence . Showing up. Being visible. That is the revolution now.”

Mônica’s latest exhibition, “Panteras de Saia” (Panthers in Skirts), features portraits of daughters posing with their fathers’ old clothes—leather jackets, dashikis, worn-out boots. In each photo, the daughter holds a symbol of her own fight: a law degree, a stethoscope, a ballot box.