Here’s a transformational idea: everyone should have access to safe, healthy and affordable food.

If this idea doesn’t feel radical to you, then perhaps you haven’t spent much time in the Southside of Chicago and its adjoining suburbs.

Food insecurity is rampant in our neighborhoods. If you live in Washington Heights, you are practically guaranteed to experience lower food access than the average Chicagoan – with similar circumstances in the South Shore, West Englewood or West Pullman.

It has been clearly documented that “Food is Medicine.” In fact, according to countless scientific studies, good nutrition is critical during cancer treatment. It empowers your body to maintain muscle, rebuild damaged tissues and better withstand aggressive radiation or chemotherapy. A patient with access to nutritious food will experience fewer side effects, like fatigue and nausea, and will have less need for extra medicines. In short, good food improves a patient’s daily life.

Instead, though, a Black woman with breast cancer in our South Side neighborhoods or suburbs has the opposite experience. In fact, if “food is medicine,” then we are inarguably in a crisis, and it is disproportionately affecting Black women with breast cancer.

As co-authors of the Pinkprint and members of the Chicago Better Together Breast Cancer Disparities Think Tank, an initiative launched to address the disproportionate impact of breast cancer mortality on Black women in Chicago’s South Side and South Suburbs, we know that by combining data-informed strategies with community-driven advocacy and leadership, we will create equitable, sustainable outcomes for those most affected by breast cancer and the lack of access to nutritious foods in their communities.

Solutions start as local initiatives. We must pilot community-driven solutions in areas with the highest breast cancer mortality rates and limited access to nutritious food.

Existing local programs – food pantries, community fridges and even hospital-run delivery systems – are a critical piece of this local infrastructure. They are just a component, though, of the robust nutrition infrastructure the South Side lacks. In the long-term, our neighborhoods need clean, well-stocked grocery stores – and we must demand that our elected officials do everything they can to attract and retain these food corporations to invest in our communities.

This is just one item on their to-do list. Long-term solutions will include policy changes and targeted incentives at the city, state and federal levels. Just this spring, over 150,000 people in Illinois lost SNAP benefits, a devastating cut with ripple effects across families into entire neighborhoods. These cuts disproportionately affect people in the South Side of Chicago – not to mention, overwhelm food banks and other centers that serve as part of our social safety net. The Families Receiving Emergency Support for Hunger (FRESH) program in Illinois provides a one-time, automatic $400 cash payment per eligible household member to residents who lost their SNAP food benefits. This will help ease the immediate negative effects of these cuts and is much appreciated. But it is not a long-term solution.

When we started conversations in work groups about this project, we started with the idea that Black women deserve equitable access to quality breast cancer care. Any conversation about breast cancer care and goals for improved outcomes, must include a conversation about nutrition justice.

Nutrition justice is not just a transformational ideal: it is an idea that will literally transform our neighborhoods and the quality of life of every single person living in them. It will put grocery stores in empty storefronts; it will deliver food to a breast cancer patient going through chemotherapy.

Nutrition justice will help improve breast cancer outcomes for Black women on Chicago’s South Side. And Black women should not have to wait.

This op-ed is the second in a series focusing on eliminating breast cancer mortality in Black women on Chicago’s Southside. The authors are part of the Chicago Better Together Breast Cancer Disparities Think Tank, an initiative launched to address the disproportionate impact of breast cancer mortality on Black women in Chicago’s Southside and South Suburbs. Together with other community leaders, they have co-authored the Pinkprint, a strategic multistep plan and call-to-action on this critical issue.

The post She’s Not Non-compliant, She’s Hungry: Addressing Food Justice to Improve Breast Cancer Outcomes appeared first on Chicago Defender.

Based on reporting by Chicago Defender.

By now, there’s little question that a maternal health crisis is rocking the Black community. The data tells the story: Black moms are dying during childbirth at three times the rate of white moms, a disproportionately high percentage of Black children are born prematurely, and Black infants are about twice as likely to die as white infants in states like Louisiana.

But new data from a handful of pilot projects also suggests a potential solution that could significantly improve outcomes for Black mothers and their babies: cash payments, no strings attached.

Studies show the unrestricted money led to fewer preterm births, higher newborn birth weights, and fewer critical-care infant hospitalizations. It also reduced stress among new moms who would otherwise struggle to attend prenatal check-ups, pay for food and formula, or keep a roof over their heads.

“This makes so much sense to me,” says Tamara Mason, an official with the nonprofit March of Dimes who worked on an Atlanta project distributing money to low-income pregnant women. “Why isn’t everyone doing this?”

Sen. Cory Booker, a New Jersey Democrat, is among several sponsors of legislation that would provide direct financial aid to new mothers, similar to the expanded child tax credit in 2021. The credit sent monthly payments of up to $300 per child straight to most families’ bank accounts; experts credit it with lifting millions of children out of poverty.

When it expired, child poverty rose again.

“I believe that we need to, for moms, flood resources to them through things like the child tax credit,” Booker said during an August press briefing on the Black Maternal Health Momnibus Act. “We were able to cut child poverty virtually in half for our communities, and that actually does affect child outcomes.”

Those positive outcomes in part spurred the March of Dimes to launch trial programs providing universal basic income, or UBI, to pregnant women and new moms in two cities: Atlanta, which Bloomberg ranked as the most economically unequal large city in the country, and New Orleans, which March of Dimes gave an F grade.

No strings attached

In Atlanta, the Guaranteed Basic Income Program gave each participant $1,000 a month during pregnancy and her baby’s first year. Women most likely to live in poverty in that city are Black women of reproductive age; 25 pregnant women in two of the area’s highest-need ZIP codes received the cash.

March of Dimes ran the pilot through an Atlanta collective-impact partnership known as the collaborative. It is modeled on San Francisco’s Abundant Birth Project and, organizers say, rooted in an idea the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. championed decades ago.

Funders Skeptical at First – Then All In

Mason said she spent months pitching foundations on the idea, which some considered outside her organization’s lane.

“I was honestly surprised that a couple of foundations,” Mason says. “Funders were like, ‘Why is March of Dimes in this space? You all are the birth defects people. You’re the preterm birth people.’”

The Community Foundation for Greater Atlanta signed on as the primary funder. The Liz Blake Giving Fund and the Jesse Parker Williams Foundation funded data gathering and evaluation Emory University conducted.

The nonprofit Center for Black Women’s Wellness handled recruitment, and more than 110 women applied for the 25 spots, Mason said. Applicants had to live in one of the two ZIP codes, earn no more than 200 percent of the federal poverty level, and be 12 to 28 weeks pregnant.

Cash, Diapers and a Network

Stipends were paid through a prepaid card, letting evaluators track spending without restricting it. Helping Mamas, a nonprofit focused on diaper insecurity, supplied 300 diapers and eight packs of wipes a month, plus a car seat and other essentials. The Georgia Black Doula Network encouraged, but didn’t require, participants to hire doulas.

Early results from Emory’s evaluation, as described by Mason, show a 20 percent decrease in financial stress and a 66 percent decrease in hopelessness, a figure she called striking. Prenatal outcomes trended better than average.

Mason was careful not to oversell what $1,000 a month can fix. Several participants lost housing; one or two dealt with domestic violence.

Even though GBI reduced financial stress, “it still is one piece of the puzzle,” Mason said.

New Orleans: Overcoming Crisis

March of Dimes runs a similar program in New Orleans, GBI Rx, offering pregnant patients in their first or second trimester $12,000, as a lump sum or $1,000 a month. Two partner medical clinics enroll patients for healthcare, and the payment card blocks cash withdrawals and spending on liquor and gambling.

In Louisiana, “we have a maternal and infant health crisis – specifically, a Black maternal and infant health crisis,” said Robin Gruenfeld, director of collective impact for March of Dimes in New Orleans. ”And it’s been that way for a long time.”

Black infants there died at about twice the rate of white infants from 2021 to 2023. Gruenfeld said Orleans Parish has the state’s lowest prenatal care utilization rate.

Gruenfeld said the program’s city seed money, federal pandemic relief funds, and foundation funding were “zeroed out” without notice. Most funds were later restored at a lower level, forcing organizers to scale down to 94 participants instead of the 100 planned. They also enrolled on a first-come, first-served basis.

Recipients spent lump sums on housing, cars and insurance. But spending priorities for the participants changed when the federal government stopped paying out SNAP food benefits during last fall’s federal shutdown.

“During that time, more than a quarter of the funds that we gave folks was going to groceries,” Gruenfeld said.

Several New Orleans city government officials are now weighing a program modeled on Michigan’s Rx Kids, which a study credits with nearly halving neonatal deaths in Flint, one of the poorest cities in the state.

“We are seeing policies pushed by the political will of predominantly Black women come into effect, and then also the backlash,” says Danielle Atkinson of Mothering Justice Action Fund, a nonprofit advocacy organization. “In Michigan, we have Rx Kids, which is extremely popular [and] the data on the impact is undeniable.”

But recent changes are endangering the success of such programs, particularly amid President Donald Trump’s hostility towards programs focused on diversity, equity and inclusion.

“We’re getting this pushback around identifying race and parental status as systemic areas of oppression,” Atkinson says. It remains to be seen, she says, “whether or not we are going to be able to prevail with the political power and the popular will of these issues, or the rhetoric and the history of racism in our country.”

Washington Looks Elsewhere

That includes the Republican-controlled Congress, which has shown little appetite for cash aid tied to pregnancy.

The Black Maternal Health Momnibus Act, which Booker reintroduced along with Democratic Reps. Lauren Underwood of Illinois and Alma Adams of North Carolina, bundles 14 bills on housing, nutrition, WIC and the perinatal workforce, but not direct cash.

Still, signs suggest the issue – providing cash aid to low-income mothers and their babies – may stay on the front burner as the midterm elections approach in November.

This month, former Vice President Kamala Harris and Michigan Senate nominee Abdul El-Sayed, both Democrats, hosted a Black maternal health roundtable in Detroit. Danielle Atkinson of Mothering Justice took part.

“Black mamas deserve access to quality healthcare that sees us, listens to us, and understands us at every step of the way,” Atkinson said afterward. “The responsibilities we carry do not end at pregnancy, nor do they disappear when we give birth and want to spend time with our newborn. They stay with us throughout all that we experience.”

Based on reporting by Louisiana Weekly.

Families across the country are opening their monthly utility bills with a growing sense of dread. Groceries cost more. Rent costs more. Now electricity has become one more expense pushing household budgets to the breaking point, and for many in the Black community – as usual – the squeeze is being felt hardest of all.

Residential electricity prices are expected to average more than 18 cents per kilowatt-hour in 2026, about 5 percent higher than last year, according to the U.S. Energy Information Administration. At the same time, demand for power is climbing fast as the nation adds data centers, factories, and other large energy users. And consumers remain exposed to a market rattled by global conflict and swings in fuel prices.

These costs do not land on everyone equally. For a family with little left over at the end of the month, even a modest jump in the light bill means less for food, transportation or medicine. Low-income households spend three times more of their income on energy than other households, and Black households spend 43 percent more than white households, according to the American Council for an Energy-Efficient Economy.

The question every public official should be asking, then, is simple: How does America add the reliable electricity it needs while keeping costs down for the families least able to absorb them?

Instead, a group of state attorneys general has chosen a very different fight.

In November 2024, Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton sued three of the nation’s largest asset managers, BlackRock, State Street and Vanguard, and was joined by a coalition of other states. The lawsuit claims the firms bought up large stakes in major coal producers and then used their influence as shareholders to pressure those companies to cut production in pursuit of climate goals. The attorneys general argue this restricted coal supply, raised coal prices and, in the end, raised electricity prices for consumers.

Paxton and his colleagues have presented the case as a way to bring down power bills. But when Paxton’s office announced its settlement with Vanguard, it billed the deal as an agreement “to protect the coal industry.” That wording tells us a great deal about whose interests are really at the center of this case.

Attorneys general have only so much time, staff, and money. Every hour spent on litigation against investment firms is an hour not spent on the problems that actually drive up household energy costs: transmission bottlenecks, permitting delays, an aging grid, energy efficiency and the shortage of new power generation.

There is actually an even deeper problem with making coal the centerpiece of an affordability strategy. Coal has been losing ground in the marketplace for decades.

Around 1990, coal supplied more than half of the nation’s electricity. By 2025, its share had fallen to about 17 percent. Most of that decline came from competition, chiefly cheaper natural gas, along with the growth of renewable energy and tougher environmental rules. In the first three months of 2026 alone, coal plant output fell 11 percent from a year earlier, while renewable generation grew. And this summer, Lazard’s annual analysis found renewables remain the lowest-cost option for new power plants, even as existing plants have become more competitive and continue to provide real value to the grid.

Coal’s decline did not begin with Wall Street, investment policies or the climate movement. It is the result of decades of change in America’s energy economy. Where a coal plant remains affordable and necessary to keep the lights on, utilities should keep running it. But keeping a useful plant open is very different from treating the survival of an entire industry as public policy. If other sources can provide power more cheaply, government has no business shielding coal from that competition.

For Black communities, the cost of coal does not stop at the utility bill. Burning coal produces air pollution and coal ash that must be managed, and the Environmental Protection Agency notes that coal ash contains contaminants like mercury, cadmium, and arsenic. A landmark NAACP study found that the roughly 6 million people living near coal plants had lower average incomes than the nation as a whole, and that people of color made up a majority of those living near the worst polluters. Too many of our neighborhoods carry both burdens at once: high energy bills and a greater share of the pollution. Any policy that claims to help consumers should account for both sides of that ledger.

The truth is that families do not much care whether the power running their refrigerator comes from a coal plant, a natural gas facility, or a wind farm. They care that it is there when they need it and that they can afford to pay for it.

Critics of environmental policy often complain that government should not pick winners and losers in energy markets. That principle should apply evenly. Financial firms should not be allowed to break antitrust laws in pursuit of climate goals. But government should be just as cautious about using its power to guarantee coal a permanent place in the market. Coal, natural gas, nuclear, wind, solar, battery storage, and new technologies should all compete on cost, reliability, and what the grid needs.

The real challenge before the nation is building enough reliable power, and building it quickly. Clinging to coal’s past, especially through the courts, does nothing to solve that.

At a time when so many Americans are struggling just to pay bills, it is fair to ask why state officials are pouring so much energy into protecting one industry. Attorneys general should be working to make power more plentiful and more affordable. Families facing economic hardships deserve more than to be invoked as props in a political fight between government officials and some of the world’s largest financial institutions.

Based on reporting by Our Weekly Los Angeles / Our Weekly Antelope Valley.

For Black women across the Washington metropolitan region, the changing employment landscape is about more than a paycheck. It can mean reassessing a career, redefining success and deciding what comes next.

The numbers underscore the challenge. Revised employment data show that approximately 251,000 Black women lost jobs between January and August 2025, accounting for more than half of the employment losses among women during that period, despite Black women representing just 14.1% of the female workforce. By the end of 2025, there were 113,000 fewer Black women employed than at the beginning of the year.

The impact has been particularly significant in the DMV, where federal employment has long provided economic stability and career opportunities for Black professionals. Maryland alone lost approximately 25,000 federal jobs in 2025, according to state employment data.

For DC Black MBA, those realities call for support that extends beyond helping women find their next job.

“I am focused on doing more and providing as many opportunities as possible for Black women to invest in themselves both professionally and personally,” said Dr. Carletta S. Hurt, president of the DC Black MBA. “We know that when Black women proceed and prosper, everyone benefits.”

That commitment is behind Leading with Intention by Investing in Self, a three-part, in-person workshop series hosted by DC Black MBA in partnership with Blu Topaz Inc. Educational Consulting.

The series builds on the chapter’s August Women’s Symposium, MastHERpiece: Designing a Life with Intention, which challenged women to see themselves as architects of their careers, wealth, wellness and impact. The new workshops take that conversation a step further, asking women to consider where they can work next and who they want to become next.

The series opens Oct. 22 with “Recalibrating Your Compass,” led by Geraldine P. White, Founder and CEO of Identity & Impact. White will guide participants through questions of identity, direction and purpose.

“You can be proud of what you’ve built and ready for something different. Both can be true,” White said. “Investing in yourself includes giving yourself permission to revisit an earlier definition of success and consider what you want your next chapter to make possible.”

On Oct. 29, Tonya Camille, creator of Me in the Making and Unstuck & Inspired, will lead “Successful, But Stuck: How High-Achieving Professionals Reconnect, Realign & Move Forward.”

Her interactive workshop will help women identify fears, limiting beliefs and recurring patterns that may prevent them from moving forward, while developing a concrete next step. “You can’t change what you won’t acknowledge, and you can’t transform what you’re unwilling to confront,” Camille said.

The series concludes Nov. 5 with nonprofit leader, author and consultant Tokiwa T. Smith leading “Rest is Revolutionary.”Her session challenges a familiar expectation placed upon Black women: that achievement and service to others must come at the expense of themselves.

Smith said Black women must recognize that prioritizing themselves, setting boundaries and making room for joy are not signs of diminished ambition. “I believe we thrive when we engage in self-care and community care,” Smith said.

For Hurt, the goal is to create space for Black women to move beyond reacting to an uncertain economy and begin intentionally determining what comes next.

A job loss can require a new résumé. A changing workplace may demand new skills. However, a life transition can also become an invitation to reconsider purpose, boundaries, entrepreneurship, leadership, rest and the meaning of success itself.

For more information, visit the DC Black MBA website (www.dcblackmbaa.org)/.

Based on reporting by Washington Informer.

For years, technology has been one of America’s fastest-growing economic sectors—and one where Black professionals remain significantly underrepresented.

In 2025, Black workers made up 12.7% of the U.S. workforce, according to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, but only 7.4% of the high-tech workforce, according to the U.S. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission. Their share of high-tech employment had remained essentially stagnant since 2005. Black workers also represented just 5.7% of high-tech managers.

For Black women, the gap is even wider. A 2023 Kapor Foundation report found Black women represented less than 3% of the tech workforce, with even fewer in decision-making and ownership roles.

So, instead of waiting for the broader technology industry to solve its representation problem, could Black Houston build something of its own?

The answer: Yes—but not simply by drawing a line on a map.

Houston has the pieces

Dr. Reagan Flowers, founder of C-STEM and Education Consulting Services, believes Houston already possesses many of the building blocks needed for a Black Tech Corridor.

“What I have not seen is the intentionality to connect, capitalize, and organize assets into an ecosystem where Black Houstonians can create, own, and scale technology companies and participate meaningfully in the wealth those companies generate,” said Flowers.

She contends Houston already offers examples of what a technology ecosystem can look like.

The Texas Medical Center’s innovation infrastructure demonstrates the power of institutional partnerships, specialized facilities, and venture funding. The Ion District demonstrates how universities, corporations, entrepreneurs, real estate, and capital can converge. TXRX Labs shows the value of community-accessible maker and technical-skills infrastructure.

Flowers argues Black Houston can learn from all three without simply copying them. The goal, she said, should be a hybrid public-private-community ownership model.

Third Ward makes sense

If there is a geographic spine for such an ecosystem, Flowers points to Third Ward—particularly Emancipation Avenue. Its location is difficult to ignore.

Third Ward sits near Texas Southern University, the University of Houston, and Houston Community College, and connects to Midtown, the Ion District, and the Texas Medical Center.

UH already has a commercialization platform that takes innovations through invention, prototyping, licensing, venture creation, investor connections, and market expansion. Its Technology Bridge provides a large innovation park with laboratories, offices, and space for technology companies.

“To the west is Rice’s Ion District,” shared Flowers. “To the southwest is the Texas Medical Center and its health-tech commercialization engine.”

In other words, Black Houston would not have to build an ecosystem from scratch.

“The pieces are already on the board,” said Flowers. “They have not been organized around Black technology ownership and wealth creation.”

Is there already one?

Parts of a Black tech ecosystem clearly exist. Houston has Black technology professionals, Black-owned startups, STEM nonprofits, workforce development programs, minority business organizations, Black founders and investors, universities that produce diverse talent, and historically Black fraternities and sororities that support innovation.

But Kara Branch, founder and CEO of Black Girls Do Engineer, cautions against defining success by geography alone.

“I think the conversation needs to be bigger than creating a physical ‘corridor,’” said Branch. “A successful technology ecosystem should be measured by what it produces for the community—not simply where it is located or who occupies the space.”

Loretta Williams Gurnell, founder and CEO of SUPERGirls SHINE Foundation, agrees.

“I believe we have one, yet a successful Black tech corridor cannot simply be viewed as a geographic location. It must function as an ecosystem,” offered Gurnell.

That ecosystem would connect K-12 STEM education, colleges and universities, workforce development, entrepreneurs, startups, corporations, investors, innovation hubs, government, faith communities, and civic organizations.

The objective: Create a seamless pathway from classroom to career to entrepreneurship.

Ownership is the point

Why does Black Houston need a Black-centered technology ecosystem? Because access doesn’t automatically equal ownership.

“As AI, automation, cybersecurity, data analytics, robotics, and emerging technologies continue reshaping the economy, we must ask: Who is building the technology? Who owns the companies? Who owns the intellectual property? Who receives the investment capital? Who benefits economically?” pondered Gurnell.

Those questions matter because technology increasingly drives wealth creation.

Laolu Davies-Yemitan, founding principal of Five Woods Realty, similarly argues that participation alone is insufficient.

“If the Black community is going to capture a meaningful share of the wealth generated by the next generation of technological innovation, the pathway must increasingly include ownership—ownership of companies, intellectual property, real estate, investment capital, and the institutions that support entrepreneurial growth,”

– Laolu Davies-Yemitan, founding principal of Five Woods Realty

“If the Black community is going to capture a meaningful share of the wealth generated by the next generation of technological innovation, the pathway must increasingly include ownership—ownership of companies, intellectual property, real estate, investment capital, and the institutions that support entrepreneurial growth,” shared Davies-Yemitan.

Real barriers

Building the corridor—or innovation district—will not be easy. Capital is perhaps the biggest obstacle. Black founders receive a disproportionately small share of venture funding, making it harder to scale companies, hire workers, and conduct research.

Then there is fragmentation. Houston has organizations doing valuable work in STEM education, entrepreneurship, workforce development, and innovation, but many operate independently rather than as parts of a coordinated ecosystem.

Talent pipelines also require attention. Young people in underserved communities can face limited exposure to STEM, limited access to technology resources, mentorship, and professional networks, and limited knowledge of technology careers. Gurnell’s philosophy is straightforward: Exposure creates aspiration; information drives preparation; preparation creates access.

Digital inequity remains another challenge, including disparities in broadband access, devices, digital literacy, and training in advanced technology. And then there’s social capital.

“Deals are made through trusted relationships,” Gurnell said. “Therefore, those relationships have to be exposed, nurtured, and strengthened.”

Branch adds another warning: Houston cannot confuse activity with impact.

“There can be a lot of panels, events, programs, announcements, and conversations,” she said. “But doing the work means consistently showing up after the spotlight is gone.”

Build talent before buildings

That may be the most important lesson.

“The conversation should not begin with buildings,” said Gurnell. “It should begin with talent.”

That means investing in early STEM exposure, workforce readiness, mentorship, entrepreneurship, capital access, and collaboration among nonprofits, corporations, universities, philanthropies, government, and industry.

Branch points to Black Girls Do Engineer’s STEMXUS EdTech infrastructure as an example of building rather than merely discussing solutions.

“We don’t want a young person to simply hear that engineering, technology, or innovation are possible careers,” Branch said. “We want them to build something, solve a problem, use the technology, meet professionals, develop skills, and understand what their next step can be.”

Branch’s litmus test asks, did someone gain a skill, get a job, launch a business, discover a career, or secure capital or customers? Did a family gain access to opportunity?

From corridor to economy

Flowers suggests thinking beyond a traditional corridor and toward a Black Innovation District; one that connects Third Ward, TSU, UH, and HCC with the Ion, TMC, and Houston’s manufacturing and maker infrastructure.

Rather than competing with Houston’s existing innovation centers, it could become connective tissue between those institutions and Black Houston.

Gurnell envisions additional benefits.

“The greatest opportunity before us is not simply creating a Black tech corridor,” Gurnell said. “It is creating a Black innovation economy.”

The infrastructure for such a corridor/economy exists. The question is whether Black Houston can summon the intentionality, investment, collaboration, and ownership required to make it happen.

Based on reporting by Houston Defender.

By Ken Epstein

Mayor Barbara Lee, speaking this week to Oakland residents and elected leaders in City Council chambers, delivered the annual mayoral State of the City Address, highlighting the city’s accomplishments as well as the challenges Oakland is facing going forward.

Lee began her remarks praising city workers, who picketed outside City Hall before the meeting, and are currently negotiating with the city for a wage increase and ending understaffing that leaves many departments shorthanded.

“We are working very hard (not) just to get a contract, but to get a fair contract,” she said. “I know that our City Council and myself are working constantly toward that end.”

The mayor also praised Councilmember Carroll Fife for her legislation for a 45-day moratorium on data center construction, which passed unanimously at the council meeting Tuesday following Lee’s presentation.

Speaking bluntly, she said, “Oakland continues to be a city on the move, (but) I want to tell you the truth about the state of our city.”

“We have made real progress, and we still face real challenges.”

She said the city has balanced its budget but has a structural deficit, which is decreasing, and must operate within the context of federal funding cuts.

“Too many Oaklanders are unhoused, too many families are struggling with the cost of living, and too many neighborhoods still need basic services that they deserve, and too many people are living in fear,” Mayor Lee said.

“We’re not sweeping these realities under the rug,” she continued. “We are being intentional and transparent about how we must face these challenges, but we will not ignore our progress.”

Substantial progress includes:

• Bringing crime down;

• Building affordable and deeply affordable housing;

• Cleaning the streets and fixing the roads;

• Helping small businesses.

“We are bringing new investment to Oakland,” she said. “We’re making City Hall work better. There’s more to do, but make no mistake, Oakland is on the move.”

Speaking broadly about the city’s public safety initiatives, she said that crime continues to decline. Burglaries fell by 26%, and violent crime fell by 17%.

In recent years, homicides and shootings have fallen by double digits, and gun violence has dropped by more than 50% in the last 33 months.

“These aren’t just statistics: these are lives. These are families. These are people who never made it home,” Mayor Lee said.

She talked about what to expect now that federal court oversight of the Oakland Police Department ended last week after 23 years. “Ending federal oversight does not mean ending accountability; quite the opposite,” she said. “Accountability and civilian oversight must remain our standard. Community trust must be our standard.”

Mayor Lee also emphasized that Oakland remains a city of refuge.

“We do not work with ICE; we do not cooperate with ICE; our police do not cooperate with ICE; we will not be militarized,” she said.

The mayor also emphasized that investing in youth is a top priority of her administration and should be considered a public safety strategy.

“We advocated for almost $2 million to restore the mayor’s youth summer employment program,” she said. “We connected youth with Oakland businesses to develop skills that will support them for years to come, and that’s a big deal.”

To create a police force that better serves and protects Oakland, the city is working toward the goal of reaching 700 sworn police officers, she said. These steps include recruiting from Oakland, holding academies, reinstituting a cadet program, and increasing foot patrols.

The city also is strengthening other programs, including the Department of Violence Prevention and Ceasefire, she said. “We must have this comprehensive public safety strategy, because we must also prevent violence before it happens.”

Continuing, Lee said public safety is connected to unsanitary conditions in city neighborhoods.

“Illegal dumping is unacceptable, and it’s a moral disgrace,” she said. “No child should have to walk past piles of garbage on their way to school; no senior should have to live next to it; no small business should have to clean it up outside its door.”

She said the city is changing the way it fights illegal dumping, securing a $9.2 million investment to develop a new strategy. “We’re not just cleaning it up; we’re working to stop it before it starts. We have the three E’s – Eradication, enforcement, and education,” she said.

Focusing on the continuing crisis of Oakland’s unhoused residents, she said, “We consider housing a basic human right, and homelessness remains one of Okland’s greatest challenges.”

“There are two things we must do: keep people from becoming unsheltered and help people who are unsheltered get back into housing with services that they need,” Lee said.

Since 2024, homelessness in Oakland has fallen by 20%, she said. In the past year prevention programs helped keep 1,000 families in their homes, and over 1,300 affordable homes opened over the past two years.

Addressing community tensions over encampments, she said, “We should never have to choose between compassion for people experiencing homelessness and the health and safety of our neighborhoods.”

“A strong city has to deliver both,” she said. “That’s the work we’re advancing through Oakland’s new homelessness strategic action plan.”