History is almost never rewritten by accident. For David Whitaker, president and CEO of the Greater Miami Convention & Visitors Bureau, bringing the American Black Film Festival back to Miami was never about nostalgia. It was a calculated move to redefine how the city is seen—and who gets to shape that perception.
“Back in 2007, the first year we recruited ABFF to call Miami home, we were struggling with the one-dimensional image of Miami,” Whitaker said. “The alignment with ABFF helped position Miami as an intersection of art, culture, heritage, entertainment, and lifestyle.”
ABFF did not arrive quietly. It entered as a signal, challenging the city’s surface-level branding and replacing it with something more layered and deliberate.
“The asset is the alignment of desired brands and value propositions: celebrities, film, fashion, entertainment, and sophistication,” Whitaker explained. “In the case of ABFF, the catalyst is the amplification and buzz generated by the nature of the event.”
Miami has long traded on image. That image is evolving. Partnerships like ABFF function less as programming and more as infrastructure—mechanisms that reshape how the city is experienced and understood.
“If you really want to be known for diversity and inclusion, you can’t just say it—you must be it,” he said. “If you want to claim global status, you have to consistently invite and sustain global audiences.”
Over time, ABFF has expanded beyond a single event and embedded itself in Miami’s cultural framework. Its Community Day screenings in Historic Overtown connect audiences to a neighborhood that anchors the city’s Black cultural legacy.
“Cultural events that are present in our neighborhoods strengthen the connection to the destination,” Whitaker said. “A true partnership creates space for others to invest with confidence. What emerges is the compounded effect of shared goals, shared needs, and shared responsibility.”
Authenticity, in Whitaker’s view, isn’t a branding tagline. It’s operational.
“It’s one of the fundamental costs of entry to be a successful tourism or event destination,” he said. “Festivals like ABFF create opportunities. They provide a platform for emerging entrepreneurs and artists who might otherwise remain unseen.”
As the festival expands through digital platforms and community engagement, audience expectations are shifting alongside it.
“Year-round programming in today’s environment is best supported by what I call ‘snackable content’—accessible, pop-up experiences that meet people where they are,” he said.
Beneath the visibility sits a harder truth.
“Art and heritage can’t survive if the artist can’t survive,” Whitaker said. “It’s incumbent on us to support art in ways that ensure it is commercially viable. ABFF has been a clear example of that balance.”
What Whitaker and ABFF have built expands Miami’s narrative rather than replacing it. It widens the frame, trading a narrow image for something the city has always contained but rarely centered. Culture isn’t decoration; it’s the foundation. And a city’s story holds only as much weight as the voices it chooses to elevate.
