James Lindsay, the founder and CEO of Rap Snacks, has carved out a unique niche in the consumer goods industry by merging his passion for snacking and hip-hop culture.

The big picture: A native of Philadelphia and an alumnus of Cheyney University, Lindsay's entrepreneurial path reflects roughly 30 years of dedication, creativity and guidance.

• Starting with a $40,000 loan from friends and family, Lindsay has built a debt-free multimillion-dollar company fueled by the fastest-growing convenience store potato chip brand in the U.S.

Driving the news: In 2025, Rap Snacks will celebrate its 30th anniversary, continuing its legacy as a cultural staple in the era following hip-hop's monumental 50th anniversary.

What they're saying: "Hip-hop was on the rise then (1995), and I saw an opportunity to merge snacking with music," Lindsay told Axios.

• "I wrote down the idea for Rap Snacks one night and called a manufacturer the next day. Despite knowing little about the snack industry, I developed the product, sold 800 cases in two months, and the rest is history."

Catch up quickly: While working as a sales rep for Johnson Products Company, Lindsay developed a love for consumer goods and learned about product distribution under George E. Johnson, the founder of Johnson Products, a mentor who significantly influenced his entrepreneurial journey.

• "I didn't even know I was being mentored back then, but working with Mr. Johnson, I learned so much about business and persistence."
• Then, Lindsay noticed that snack products in local corner stores didn't represent Black culture or resonate with urban youth.
• "Mentors taught me about product distribution, packaging, and marketing—skills I didn't have when I started."

Zoom out: Rap Snacks has featured major artists like Cardi B and the Migos, but the original packaging had a generic mascot, "MC Potato," until Lindsay pitched Universal Music Group, offering to feature their artists on his bags.

• "They loved the concept and even paid us to advertise their artists," he said. "Over time, we expanded partnerships to include artists. These collaborations made Rap Snacks a cultural phenomenon."
• In 2010, he worked with Meek Mill to connect his brand with corporate America. They secured partnerships with companies, such as Puma, Monster Energy Drink, and Ciroc.
• "That experience showed me the power of leveraging hip-hop culture to create value in the corporate world."

Zoom in: In 2017, Rap Snacks expanded into other food categories, including noodles, cereals, rice, candy, and even honey buns.

What's next: Lindsay owns several brands, including Mr. G Snacks and a better-for-you line called "Do the Right Thing," which offers vegetable-based snacks. He's also launching a new brand to compete with Takis.

• "My goal is to have a presence in every store aisle," he said.

Lindsay says his climb to success proves that cultural representation and business savvy can reshape industries—and he hopes to inspire the next generation of entrepreneurs to dream just as boldly.

• "We're setting an example for other brands to embrace diversity without fear that it won't sell," Lindsay said. "Our products not only resonate culturally but also deliver superior taste, ensuring repeat customers."

Asked what advice Lindsay would give aspiring entrepreneurs, he said, "love what you do," treat people with respect and don't rush.

• "If you're only in it for the money, sustaining the energy needed to overcome challenges is hard," he said.

At just 19, Judea "JuJu" Watkins appears to carry the world's weight, yet the USC phenom — who shattered records in her first season — seems to hold it all easily.

Why it matters:  Watkins is a rising star in women's college basketball — a new six-episode documentary series dives deep into her life and journey.

The big picture: Watkins balances her fearless alter ego on the court with her playful and humble side as a teenager who enjoys playing Connect Four and relies on her mom to perfect her pregame bun during her senior year at Sierra Canyon.

Zoom out: "On the Rise" starts with her decision on where to play college ball and dips into the family structure that gives her the scaffolding she needs to support superstardom.

• Hailing from Watts, Watkins, 19, in her first season, became the all-time leading scorer among Division I freshmen and propelled USC to its first Elite Eight appearance in 30 years.
• Described by ESPN as "the next big thing in college hoops" and the Los Angeles Times as "your favorite basketball player's favorite basketball player."

Zoom in: The series premiered Nov. 23 on NBC and Peacock, with new episodes available on Peacock and NBC Sports FAST Channel throughout the season.

• The documentary, produced by 4.4Forty Media, Uninterrupted and State Farm, collaborates with sports storytelling heavyweights.
• LeBron James, Maverick Carter and Rich Paul are executive producers alongside Watkins, the show's star and executive producer. This approach empowers athletes to own their narratives.

What they're saying: Danny Barton, 4.4.Forty Media executive producer and Klutch Sports VP of sports content, says this has been "a passion project for me and the team since JuJu was a senior in high school."

• "From the start, we wanted to capture her story authentically — from choosing her college to navigating life with her family's support and the community around her," he said of Watkins who has been in the national spotlight since seventh grade.

The documentary offers viewers an in-depth perspective as the 6-foot-2 guard was recruited two years ago by Dawn Staley, the legendary coach who has led the University of South Carolina Gamecocks to three national championships, and Lindsay Gottlieb, the women's head coach for the USC Trojans, a historic franchise with a tremendous opportunity.

• The appeal is real as Watkins and her family spend quality time with Staley and the team. The cameras capture a moment when Watkins stares at a statue of standout A'ja Wilson in front of Colonial Life Arena.
• During her visit, Gottlieb, the Trojans coach, treats Watkins like royalty, providing her with a throne on the court for photos. However, Watkins — the Naismith Girls High School Player of the Year — desires to share this experience with her team.

Ultimately, the appeal of being at home — and maybe to create history — won out. The Trojans have started the season with high interest and expectations, including being ranked No. 3 in the Associated Press Top 25.

• Last week, Watkins dropped 24 points in a 74-61 loss, their first of the season.
• The team has bounced back and will face Oregon, their next ranked opponent, on Dec. 7.

Barton notes that this story "isn't just about basketball; it's about JuJu's roots in Watts, her dedication, and her humility, which we felt had to be documented in a way that shows her whole experience."

What's next: Barton says we are "in an amazing moment for women's sports," and they are in talks to continue the story.

• "JuJu's journey is just beginning, and there's a lot more to tell as she progresses in her career."
• "Women athletes, especially Black women, have powerful stories that deserve platforms like this."

Go deeper: JuJu Watkins is college basketball's next ambassador

President-elect Trump has picked Cabinet members who vowed to remove "woke" influences from the federal government. They aim to fight against everything from DEI mandates and transgender rights to school curriculum choices.

Why it matters: "Woke" exploded into the American vernacular after the murder of George Floyd, and has been used to describe an awareness of other cultures and social inequities. But it's also been weaponized by conservatives, who have redefined the term as a threat to traditional values and cultural/racial norms in the U.S.

• Beyond Washington, the redefinition also has fueled the far-reaching fight against racial diversity policies in academia and corporate America.

State of play: Conservatives now slap "woke" on countless views they find offensive. Attacks on transgender rights helped some conservatives win elections, and now President-elect Trump is declaring war on "woke" — from Pentagon hiring to college admission policies to health issues.

• Progressives worry this anti-woke momentum threatens gains made over the six decades since the Civil Rights Movement.

But now, even some Democrats are using the term in post-election critiques of their party's left wing.

• "When the woke police come at you," Rahm Emanuel, President Biden's ambassador to Japan, told New York Times columnist Maureen Dowd, "you don't even get your Miranda rights read to you."

How woke and wokeism began

Martha S. Jones, a history professor at the Stavros Niarchos Foundation Agora Institute at Johns Hopkins University, said that woke has its roots in African American vernacular English.

• Its earliest known usage dates to the mid-20th century and concerns social and racial justice tied to movements driven by inequities. References to "stay woke" can be traced back to activist Marcus Garvey.
• Over the past decade, "woke" gained prominence during the Black Lives Matter era, with Colin Kaepernick's anthem protests and the global demonstrations after Floyd's murder cementing its tie to racial justice.
• It typically has referred to an individual becoming more aware of social injustices, including bias, discrimination and double standards.
• "It was a term 'for us, by us,' long before the world cared about our language or explanations," Jones says.

The intrigue: The term gained momentum after the summer of unrest in 2020 and appeared on social media, in music, movies, and protests.

• To be "woke AF" meant to be keenly aware of systemic racism that has largely been overlooked or ignored in U.S. society.
• Scholars have compared it to a simplified expression of critical race theory — which holds that racism is baked into the formation of the nation and ingrained in our legal, financial and education systems.

The backlash

The 2020 protests saw multiracial, multiethnic coalitions topple statues of figures connected to slavery, Native American removal, or segregation.

• Some demonstrators yelled, "Abolish the police," while others pressed for transgender rights.
• Public school teachers introduced lessons about systemic racism to students while they were home on Zoom classes during the pandemic.
• After the Black Lives Matter movement, several brands reevaluated and changed names or logos associated with racial stereotypes.
• Corporate America briefly united to address workplace racial disparities, pledging to increase hiring and promotion of Black and underrepresented employees.

The other side: Conservative parents grew angry about the protests and the anti-racist movement within the education system and fought back by crowding school board meetings.

• They demanded an end to teaching critical race theory in schools — where it's rarely taught outside of graduate and law school — and called for bans on certain books about racism and LGBTQ topics.
• Moms for Liberty, labeled an extremist group by the Southern Poverty Law Center, got several red states to pass bills reducing discussions of race, gender and sexuality in the classroom or school material.
• Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis even named his state's law the "Stop WOKE Act." Teachers and educators across the country reported receiving death threats amid debates over what to teach, and how.

Zoom out: Last summer's Supreme Court decision limited affirmative action, causing many companies and universities to reexamine their diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) strategies.

• The Supreme Court's decision to curtail affirmative action raised questions about other corporate diversity initiatives aiming to bolster representation.
• Democrats are arguing among themselves whether the focus on equity has focused too much on transgender rights while scaring off moderate voters — claims that critics say are transphobic.
• Now, Trump is vowing to dismantle the U.S. Department of Education at a time when the nation's public schools are as diverse as they've ever been but are returning to racial segregation levels of the 1960s.

The bottom line: Jones says the weaponization of "woke" and other political dog whistles, like "states' rights" and "law and order" have allowed leaders to speak about race indirectly, rallying a supportive base.

• "Language is power," she says. "When terms like 'woke' are hijacked and weaponized, they're used to delegitimize the very movements and communities that gave them life."