The Black cowboys and cowgirls of Arizona’s Knight Ranch bring pride and a hard work ethic to riding horses.
*Part one of a three-part series on Black cowboy and rodeo life.
Story by Adiba Nelson
Photographs by Eryka Dellenbach
The year was 1988 and I had just moved from The Bronx to Tucson. All I knew about Arizona was that it was a desert, home to tumbleweeds and cowboys.
And cowboys were not Black.
Well, I take that back. I did know of one Black cowboy: Cowboy Curtis from PeeWee’s Playhouse, a staple in my Saturday morning cartoon-watching routine. But Cowboy Curtis was a fictitious character. So, no one in my new town would look like me. I’d be surrounded by brown tumbleweeds, white cowboys, and too much dust.
Thirty-six years later, I met the Black cowboys and cowgirls of the Flying Crows at Knight Ranch, a Black-owned ranch in Laveen, a community in Maricopa County, just eight miles southeast of Downtown Phoenix. None of them looked like Cowboy Curtis. But I was still curious – how did these Black folks become cowboys and cowgirls, and get involved in a tradition that up until that point I thought was reserved strictly for white men from places like Montana and Texas?
According to Tyree Boyd-Pates, curator of the Autry Museum of the American West, the word “cowboy” was actually “a pejorative that was given to Black cow hands who were formerly enslaved, and then derogatorily named by their enslavers.” These were men who did the same hard, back-breaking labor their white counterparts did, but continued to be considered just three-fifths of a man. The term “cow boy” robbed them of their dignity, a way for a white boss to say, “I am a man. You are a boy. We are not the same.”
Black cowboys like Bill Pickett begged to differ. In the late 1800s, one of the earliest known Black cowboys, Bill Pickett created the “bull-dogging” technique used in rodeos to bring a steer to the ground. His innovative technique—he literally would bite the steer on the nose or lip—eventually became known as “steer wrestling” and is today one of the most popular rodeo events.
The Men of Knight Ranch, and The Flying Crows
The Flying Crows is a riding group that operates out of Knight Ranch, a ranch founded twenty years ago by David Knight, a Black horseman1, who provided others with the opportunity to house their horses once he had his own property. While not exclusive for Black people, Knight Ranch serves predominantly Black horse owners and riders.
On the day I visit, Shaheed Muhammad, tall and slender and one of the group’s leaders, wears Wrangler jeans and boots, a far cry from the velvet loafers I’d seen on his Instagram account, where he looks like he could walk a runway for Gucci or Tom Ford. How does a man with such Kappa-swag2 find himself dusted up and playing with horses?
In short, he told me, his daddy made him do it.
Shaheed saw his first cowboy in Compton, California, where, growing up, he had family. “Believe it or not, Compton is horse country. Compton is very rich in cowboy heritage and life. I would always see cowboys riding up and down the street on their horses.”
When he was twenty-five, on a horseback riding outing with extended family, Shaheed’s niece’s horse was “acting up.” Shaheed says, “My father maneuvered his horse around and got my niece situated. And I was just like, ‘Wait, what? How did you know how to do that?’”
Turns out, in his younger years, Shaheed’s father learned horsemanship skills after going on search and rescue missions in places inaccessible to helicopters or vehicles. Once he saw what his father could do, Shaheed became entrenched in ranch life. He got his first horse in 2013, and came to Knight Ranch seven years later, where he learned to be a horseman.
Cowboy life, Shaheed says, is more than riding horses, herding cattle, and roping a bull. There is a strong code of ethics involved. At Knight Ranch, this means the work ethic.
“Are you willing to work? Are you willing to help? Are you willing to share? Can we call on you when we need you?” Shaheed says. “We pay attention to who we can call on when needed, and who’s willing to help out, who’s willing to go that extra mile to help the greater good.”
Because Shaheed rides and works with a predominantly Black group of cowboys and cowgirls, he hasn’t run into the issues one might think you’d face in what is thought to be a predominantly white arena—racial discrimination.
One group of white cowboys often rides with the Flying Crows, but Shaheed says they’ve never had any issues.
“You can tell the differences in ideology, political views, etc. But I think when you come together and you find that one commonality, everything else kind of goes out the window. We’re not judging each other by the color of the skin but who are you as a human being.”
Training Up the Young’ uns, Passing Down the Legacy
Spreading that ethic is part of the Flying Crows’ mission. The group helps run a youth academy at Knight Ranch for kids from the neighborhood and nearby inner-city Phoenix. Participants learn how to care for a horse, build a relationship with the animal, and barn upkeep and management. David Knight has ensured that Knight Ranch is a safe space and place for us to go.
And by us, I mean Black folks.
Knight’s nephew, Anthony, has been coming to the ranch since he was a young boy. Now fifteen, with locs that nearly brush his shoulders, he walks with the confidence of a person who’s been around horses their entire life.
While many kids his age struggle with peer pressure, Anthony says riding horses, especially the Knight Ranch way–while listening to music–helps keep him out of trouble.
“We have music on our horse, and music sets the mood. It calms you down, especially when you’re riding by yourself,” Anthony says.
Anthony is not yet part of the rodeo circuit, but says he hopes to someday compete in the Arizona Black Rodeo. A few years ago, he began learning how to barrel race on a wild horse named Brubaker, or “Bru,” for short. No matter how many times he rode, he just couldn’t get him right.
“He was that horse. He was taking names, throwing people off left and right. You had to pay attention. You couldn’t even get on your phone to check if somebody was dying. You had to stay focused the whole entire time, because if you wasn’t focused, he would throw you like a tossed salad,” he says.
However, the ranch works in mysterious ways.
Trying to train Bru meant Anthony and his cousin ran Bru hard and fast, up and down the street. One day a friend set up barrels and began to teach Anthony how to barrel race. He realized he wasn’t too bad at it but says he’s ready for more.
His “top tier want-to-do” is horse bucking, he says. “I ain’t never rode a bull, but I’ll say I rode a cow that felt like a bull! It looked like a bull. I can’t tell the difference. It looked the same to me. It was black and it was big.”
When I asked if someday he wants to ride a bull he wastes no time with his response.
“No ma’am I want to do horse buckin’, I ain’t ready for no bull.”
Noted, Anthony. Noted.
Like Anthony, Kyron Pollard also came to Knight Ranch ready for a challenge.
The twenty-one-year-old college junior from Oklahoma has a firm handshake, a mega-watt smile, and the southern manners his mama raised him with. He calls Knight Ranch and the Flying Crows his home away from home. When Kyron moved to Arizona for school he found himself itching to get involved in agriculture—call it homesickness or fate, but it led him to Knight Ranch. Everyone took him in immediately. They made him feel like one of their own, and from that moment on, he hasn’t looked back.
Kryon also took on one of the more difficult horses, Buck, a stubborn horse that had never been ridden. “He was green, wet behind the ears, even though he was nine years old,” Kyron says.
“During the summer I would come out every day at three am and take him all through the mountains, and man, it was a really good summer!”
Kyron is now working to train Buck into a roping horse (a horse that can be used for roping livestock at rodeos). “I don’t ride him as much, but still, the love and the passion is there,” he says.
It shows when he talks about how much it means to him to be a Black cowboy. Kyron comes from a line of Black cowboys. Both his grandfather and father were cowboys, so he grew up seeing Black cowboys everywhere, every day. But he understands that that isn’t the case for many Black children, especially in Arizona, so he’s grateful to be part of a movement that is expanding the realm of possibilities for Black children.
“It truly is special just being a part of it and being able to carry on the legacy and provide for the next generation,” he says.
Kyron credits Knight Ranch and the Flying Crows with keeping him on the straight and narrow, which is not always easy when you go to a university consistently rated one of the top “party schools” in the country. But his passion for the ranch, learning new skills, the support of his girlfriend, and his church family has kept him focused. His needs, he says, are being fulfilled at the ranch.
One Time for The Girls: Miss Denise and Miss Andrea
For Andrea Underwood, riding with the Flying Crows is exactly that: fulfillment. Bright and bubbly, with a smile that could outshine a Christmas tree, Andrea found Knight Ranch at a time when she was simply trying to stay alive after surviving several near-death experiences.
“I was having surgery done so I don’t know exactly what happened to me, but the medical staff almost broke my neck. I had two strokes and internal bleeding that almost led to my death, but God is so good. My father was a cowboy in Los Angeles, so I just researched ranches, went to the (Black) rodeo and met Shaheed and we clicked. I came out to the ranch and fell in love. The people here take you under their wing if you’re serious about riding, and I came out bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to learn. I’m in love with this place. My kids know that Sundays are my days at the ranch with the horses.”
She says that from a therapeutic standpoint, riding horses, or “becoming a cowgirl” has been an integral part of her healing process, both physically and mentally.
Denise Thomas seconds that emotion. Long and lean and with a perpetual smile on her face (hence the nickname, “Smiley”), Denise has been riding at Knight Ranch for nearly four years. The morning we met she had gone on an early morning ride with a new foal, and described the ride as “beautiful, peaceful, so serene.”
But her expeditions aren’t always solo. Now she brings her children and grandchildren out to Knight Ranch to ride the trails into the mountains near South Phoenix.
At first, Andrea was one of the few woman regularly riding at the ranch. Then Denise came, and slowly the numbers have been growing. I asked if the women ever faced any pushback from men at the ranch or from their white counterparts in the cowboy community.
Andrea recalled a time she visited a predominantly white training facility to check out the grounds barrel racing practice.
“We walked in, a group of Black people, and we’re chill. We’re walking, laughing and just chilling. The white people were just staring. They were in shock, or maybe they just didn’t want us there. But it felt so good, because it was like, ‘Yeah, we exist!’’ So, it makes a point.”
When I asked how they felt about being Black women riders in the cowboy community, both Denise and Andrea said, without hesitation, “Proud!”
They refer to the horses as their “4×4’s” or “all-terrain vehicles,” proud of the fact that they can traverse the same rocky and steep trails the men do, in the same weather elements. They are also aware of what their presence means to other Black women and young Black girls who see them on rides.
“When I ride through the neighborhoods, my little horse is a ‘pony princess,’ so all the baby girls love her,” Andrea says. “It’s dope because I get to make connections and encourage the children to come on and learn to ride with us. We want other Black riders, other Black female riders.”
As a Beyoncé super-fan, I wondered aloud about “The Beyoncé Effect” on Black cowgirl life since the release of her country-inspired album, “Cowboy Carter.”
These real-life cowgirls were over the hype.
While I credit Bey with raising awareness, specifically in the Black community, about Black cowboys and cowboy culture as a whole, Denise appropriately and quickly reminded me that they were there long before Beyoncé. What they do at the ranch and at the Black Rodeo, she stressed, is not Beyoncé glitz and glamour, but work.
As the Crow Flies…
It may be hard work. It may not be glitz and glamour. It might come with injury and trial, but the Knight Ranch and the Flying Crows is a direct link to legacy, family, pride, love.
I didn’t ride a horse while at the ranch, but I left with a sense of pride in knowing that people who look like me are preserving a legacy that in its own small way somehow also belongs to me, and those who come after me. They are continuing to carry the torch for future generations when our forefathers were barely even acknowledged as the original torch bearers.
For Kyron, that legacy is celebrated when he calls himself a “Black cowboy,” as opposed to just “a cowboy.” I’d like to leave you with his words.
“I get a sense of pride when people say Black cowboy. There’s a lot of a lot of weight that we bear being Black in America, a lot of barriers that that we face, a lot of challenges that we face, and a lot of things that we’ve had to overcome just for being Black in America. So, I think in a way, being Black in America alone, you know, that stands out. That is a story in and of itself. But to put cowboy on top of that, you know, that has its own set of values, its own set of code of ethics. I feel like when people think of Black, some people think of negative connotations. And then when you think of cowboy, you think of positive connotations. But when you put them together, I get the sense of being strong, honest, a person who can persevere, and a person who comes from a people who have had to persevere time and time again throughout history. And so, for that reason I take a lot of pride in it. I think “Black cowboy” is what I prefer to be called because there’s a lot of weight that comes with that. A lot of weight and a lot of pride.”
Yes sir, Kyron.
A lot of pride.
- The terms horseman and cowboy are interchangeable in today’s language, however most of the folks interviewed prefer the term “cowboy/cowgirl.” “Horseman” pertains specifically to knowing to handle and maintain a horse. ↩︎
- Kappa-swag refers to the debonair stylings and demeanor of the men of Kappa Alpha Psi – one of the oldest Black fraternities. They are known for their canes, shoulder shimmies, and the infamous “Kappa Stroll.” ↩︎
PHOTO CAPTIONS, Top to bottom:
Cover: Kyron Pollard lassos a stationary bull at Knight Ranch.
1. Knight Ranch cowboys, Shaheed Muhammad and Kyron Pollard
2. Knight Ranch is a Black-owned ranch in Laveen, Arizona, a community in Maricopa County, eight miles southeast of Downtown Phoenix.
3. Cowboys at Knight Ranch Cowboy ride horses, herd cattle, and rope bulls, while practicing a strong work ethic.
4. The Flying Crows run a youth academy for kids from the neighborhood and nearby inner-city Phoenix. Participants learn how to care for a horse, build a relationship with the animal, and barn upkeep and management.
5. Spurs are part of cowboy life.
6. No whining, sniveling, or drama at the Knight Ranch.
7. For Andrea Underwood, riding horses, or “becoming a cowgirl” has been a healing activity.
8. Though ranching life is historically a predominantly white arena, the Flying Crows say that riding and working with other Black cowboys and cowgirls means they don’t often face racial discrimination.
9. Denise “Smiley” Thomas was the first regular female rider at Knight Ranch. Slowly the numbers have been growing, she says.
10. Shaheed Muhammad was inspired to become a horseman after seeing his father ride. He got his first horse in 2013, and is now helping a new generation learn to ride.
Support the work of the Flying Crows’ youth academy here.
Adiba Nelson is the author of Ain’t That A Mother, Oshun And Me, Meet ClaraBelle Blue, and the forthcoming Hazel’s Best Day. She is also the subject of the Emmy winning documentary, The Full Nelson, and a disability rights activist. Visit her web site here.
Eryka Dellenbach is a filmmaker, performance artist, and educator based in the Sonoran Southwest. Shaped by both immediate and inherited estrangements, they use film and performance as mediums of inquiry, engaging in collaborative processes that navigate what is missing or unresolved. Their practice draws on investigative and embodied methodologies to engage with subjects in ways that reveal, question, and reframe relationship. They are a 2024 Rocky Mountain Emmy award recipient for their video journalism with AZPM and currently teach film at Tohono O’odham Community College. Visit their web site here.