Letter from the Board: Reclaiming our narrative – the power of Black media

Michael Bethely Black Lens Board

Your story can help someone else while they’re going through their story. Your voice can encourage someone else while they’re trying to find their voice. Your experience can prepare someone else while they’re gearing up to face their own.

Our stories have always mattered. From the griots of West Africa who passed down the stories of our ancestors, to the journalists, filmmakers, and poets of today, we have carried forward the responsibility of story-telling. Black media has never been just about reporting the news – it has been about protecting, preserving, and proclaiming our voice.

For too long, others have tried to narrate our stories for us, leaving out or devaluing the complexities of our struggle, the brilliance of our achievements, and the depth of our humanity. But Black media needs to…has to, push back, refusing to let our voices be silenced or twisted to fit someone else’s lens. We must reclaim our stories, and in doing so, we will reclaim our legacies!

Our legacy is a powerful one. Generations before us fought for platforms where we could speak our truths without apology. They understood that a free Black press was not a luxury but a lifeline. It was – and still is – a shield against erasure and a megaphone for justice. It reminds us of who we are, where we come from, and where we are headed.

Every word we print, every story we share, every video we make, or podcast we create. There is a thread woven into the vast tapestry of our collective experience. We do this work because we believe in us. We believe in our communities. We believe in our readers – those who pick up these pages looking for affirmation, connection, and hope. Your support and engagement breathe life into this mission, reminding us that our voice carries weight, that our legacy is worth preserving, and that our future deserves protection. Even if it’s trying to be erased.

So let us continue to reclaim our narrative, to tell it boldly, honestly, and beautifully. Let us celebrate the everyday Black excellence happening in our neighborhoods, the resilience that shows up in our churches, our schools, our living rooms. Let us document our pain, yes – but also our joy, our laughter, and our triumphs.

To every reader who takes the time to turn these pages: thank you. You are not just an audience; you are a vital part of this legacy. Together, we hold up a mirror to our world, and we declare that our stories matter – yesterday, today, and for generations yet to come.