The history of disenfranchisement carved the road for the Black press, whose roots spawned our national protest mission. It became the catalyst for our autonomy as a newly freed people during Reconstruction. It was our rebellion against anti-literacy laws.
The Black press made space for us to see ourselves out from the shadows of subjugation, coming into our own as conscious American citizens. It had the moxie to be our messenger, our defense, our teacher and our historian. It deliberately addressed matters in the local, national, and international landscape and gave a place for us, a people disjointed by trafficking and alienation, to dialogue through the written word. It helped us navigate our daily lives in a way that enslavement never could have imagined.
Intentional in calling to account injustice, when the “math wasn’t mathin’” in America, the Black press asked why. It spoke to things that were not said aloud, out of the confines of small intimate gatherings, and dared to be heard. It gave us power to walk in freedom. Today, the Black press is still a herald, a beacon, a promoter, a connector, a mobilizer, an advocate, an advisor, a challenger, and an uplifter. It was and is the mosaic of our voice. It has shown us, and the world, our existence, because we are here. Hindsight inspires foresight.
“We wish to plead our own cause. Too long have others spoken for us. Too long has the public been deceived by misrepresentations in things which concern us dearly.”
Rev. Samuel Cornish and John B. Russwurm, Freedom’s Journal, 1827