For decades, the Black press has been a vanguard of the Black community’s history and guardian of its future. As we sit at a crossroad of progress and regression, hope lies in strengthening this storied institution.
The challenges facing our community are serious. In multiple states there are attempts to roll back access to the ballot. In many communities, Black and poor people live under the daily threat of gun violence. Black people and other marginalized groups continue fighting for high quality education.
Educators are being told that they cannot discuss this nation’s complicated history with race and racism, as bans are enacted on Critical Race Theory discussion. The hope for our future lies, in part, on a thriving Black press.
For too long Black communities, and other marginalized groups, have suffered when the people who tell their stories do not look like them.
In seeking to understand the origins of riots in the summer of 1967, the Kerner Commission found that a lack of diversity in the news media was a contributing factor. The Commission was formed at the behest of President Lyndon Baines Johnson and tasked with uncovering the roots of the riots.
It found that Black people were not being hired by media outlets in numbers proportionate to their population. Many people felt the lens through which the media told and interpreted Black community stories was inherently racist.
The commission stated that America was moving toward “two societies, one white; another one Black.” The group recommended that policymakers “mount programs on a scale equal to the dimension of the problems, including closing the gap between promise and performance.”
And while the Kerner Commission outlined ways to improve media coverage of Black communities, Black journalists and publishers have long shared the need to have communities of color behind and in front of the camera.
Long before the Kerner Commission report, the Black community knew and understood that the Black press was vital to fair representation and balanced coverage. It wasn’t just that the Black press traced the arcs of our and our ancestors’ lives, but it was also a place where both our struggle and triumph was chronicled.
It was also a home for Black journalists committed to reporting the news and providing historical context. From Freedom’s Journal to Ida B. Wells-Barnett’s Memphis Free Speech, Black journalists and publishers opposed slavery, lynching and the in-humane treatment of Black people.
The Chicago Defender chronicled the great migration of Southern Blacks to Northern cities. In search of “warmer suns” as author and journalist Isabel Wilkerson noted, Black people moved north, bringing with them their wounds, talents, and hopes for brighter days. The great migration then, is a lens through which we can understand modern immigration struggles.
When white publications refused to print obituaries of Black people, the Black press was a dutiful companion. When white publications minimized or ignored our accomplishments and career highlights, our community not only created but sustained publications including EBONY and JET magazines.
When mainstream media largely ignores the Black community, or positions us in an unfavorable light, the Black press is a lighthouse that illuminates our paths. I honor not only Black journalists but the associations that have served them. The National Newspaper Publishers Association and the National Association of Black Journalists are leaders in supported of Black journalists and Black newspaper publishers.
The victories our ancestors won decades ago are under legal assault. We cannot meet this moment without a strong Black press. As we think about what is needed for our communities to succeed, we cannot overstate the importance of investing in Black media. The investments include infusions of capital, giving Black press first rights of refusal when it comes to breaking news and supporting Black journalists.
Nina Hudson Turner is an educator and former Ohio state senator.