The honorees at the National Civil Rights Museum’s 35th annual Freedom Award ceremony held at the Orpheum Theatre on Thursday, Oct. 1, reflected a changing era of civil rights leadership.

Fred Gray Sr., one of the last surviving legal strategists of the Civil Rights Movement, helped dismantle segregation in America as the lawyer who represented Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and Rosa Parks. Gray’s pioneering legacy now rests with the generations he helped empower, including fellow award recipients Rev. Shavon Arline-Bradley, Nneka Ogwumike and Bakari Sellers.

Arline-Bradley, an ordained minister, public health advocate, and president and CEO of the National Council of Negro Women since 2023, credits the women and civil rights legends who preceded her and built the organizations she now leads with making her work possible.

Nneka Ogwumike, WNBA champion and four-term president of the league’s players association, and Bakari Sellers, a lawyer, author, CNN political correspondent and former South Carolina legislator, represent a younger generation of human and civil rights activists. They are taking the fight into new arenas, from women’s sports and economic opportunity to voting rights, education and social justice.

Together, their stories shaped the event’s overall theme and mood, which celebrated the courage of freedom fighters of the past while embracing what civil rights leadership looks like now — and what it may become.

Before the ceremony, hundreds of guests gathered for photographs and interviews on the red carpet and hors d’oeuvres at the Halloran Centre for Performing Arts & Education next door to the Orpheum. Actor Larenz Tate hosted the event for the second consecutive year. Grammy Award-winning gospel artist Tamela Mann brought the audience to its feet with her performance of the hit song “Take Me to the King.” And local artist Garry Goin and the Freedom Award House Band performed a mix of R&B and liberation songs.

Taking the stage to accept the first award was Arline-Bradley, who reflected on the legacy that shaped her path to leadership.

“This honor means more to me than you can ever imagine,” Arline-Bradley said, describing the moment as the culmination of what she believes God had in store for her.

She paid tribute to Dorothy Height, whose leadership helped secure the headquarters for the women’s advocacy nonprofit on Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington, D.C. Arline-Bradley described the building, located on the same street as the White House, as a representation of Black women’s history, power and resilience.

“NCNW stands as the only Black and women-owned building on Pennsylvania Ave,” she continued.

During her speech, Arline-Bradley outlined what she believes it will take to achieve freedom and equality today.

“If America wants to get her healing, we’ve got to climb to the rooftop of justice,” she said.

And justice includes using Black economic power to support companies with compatible values, she continued.

Fred Gray Jr. accepted the award on behalf of his father, who was unable to attend the ceremony. Gray, who practices law alongside his father and brother, recalled his father’s decision to become a lawyer and return to Montgomery, Alabama, determined to challenge segregation.

Gray connected his father’s legal work to Memphis’ sanitation workers, whose 1968 strike became a defining moment in the city’s civil rights history. “At 95, if he was here, he would say to you, ‘I have done what I can do. The rest is up to you,’” Gray Jr. said.

Ogwumike used her acceptance speech to connect the growing visibility of women’s sports to a broader conversation about opportunity and equality.

“In this moment, there are greater and more opportunities for girls and women in sports,” Ogwumike said, pointing to the example provided by the WNBA’s professional athletes who serve as role models for young girls.

She also addressed what she described as threats to women’s rights and access, including debates surrounding Title IX, voting rights, reproductive healthcare and gender violence. “We refuse to be bullied and we refuse to be silenced and made to disappear,” Ogwumike said.

Her remarks were followed by a surprise video message from former Vice President Kamala Harris, who thanked Ogwumike for “being a fighter for the people” and congratulated the evening’s other honorees.

The final honoree, Bakari Sellers, has family ties to Memphis. His mother grew up in the city. His grandfather, the Rev. E.W. Williamson, once served as pastor of Middle Baptist Church and Olivet Baptist Church.

Sellers wrapped his remarks in light humor as he reflected on his conversations with other advocates and his own social justice journey. At one point, he paused, overcome with emotion, as he recalled visiting the National Civil Rights Museum earlier in the day and standing on the balcony where Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated on April 4, 1968.

“The victories they won are being torn down all around us,” Sellers said.

To illustrate the cost and cruelty of social injustice, he asked the audience to imagine a 10-year-old student who might one day cure cancer but is struggling in school because of hunger.

“Somewhere we have forgotten that we come from a people of dreamers,” Sellers said. “We have forgotten the price that was paid.

“I am only 42 years old. I don’t really deserve this thing,” Sellers said. “But I will promise you this: Tomorrow I will work harder than I did yesterday.”

A video montage at the black-tie ceremony paid tribute to influential figures who died this year, including civil rights organizer Bernard Lafayette, a leader in the Nashville Movement, Freedom Rides and the Selma voting rights campaign; Rev. Jesse Jackson, the civil rights icon, minister and founder of Operation PUS;, Memphis civil rights activist Clara Ester; feminist leader and journalist Gloria Steinem; and country music legend and philanthropist Dolly Parton.

Museum President Russ Wigginton commented ahead of the program on the generational evolution of Freedom Award honorees. He noted that earlier generations of civil rights leaders often could measure progress through changes in laws, court decisions and government policy. Marches, sit-ins and other forms of direct action helped produce the landmark legal changes achieved during the Civil Rights era of the 1950s and 1960s.

But today, he said, the work can be more difficult to measure because much of it involves changing hearts and minds, increasing empathy and encouraging people to understand cultural differences.

“It is a delicate balancing act that requires patience and commitment,” Wigginton said.

He added, however, the fundamental goal remains unchanged: equal rights for everyone.

Based on reporting by Tri-State Defender.

Spending time across Southern University’s campus during the day, you feel the rich history and great energy that make the Bluff special. But once the sun goes down, that feeling shifts into a familiar sense of unease.

Returning home from a late-night study session in the library or walking back from your dorm can often feel like a game of avoiding the darkness. There are areas across campus that are terrifyingly pitch black with dying or non-existent lights posted along walking paths meant for students to walk alone. If you find yourself constantly having to squint to see while walking around campus, you can see why safety is such a big issue in students’ minds. The darkest parts of campus are the street where the bandroom is and the streets by dorms. I was driving back to my apartment on campus late one night when suddenly there was someone walking near the road. If my bright headlights weren’t on, I might not have seen them soon enough, and it could have caused an unsafe situation.

The darkness creates daily hazards that go far beyond a simple lack of visibility. Pedestrians are forced to walk directly in the street because sidewalks fade into pitch-black shadows, dodging cars while barely being able to see where they are stepping. At the same time, people are flying by on electric scooters moving through the dark, completely invisible to drivers and walkers because many of their rides lack proper headlights or reflectors. Nagging worry in the back of your mind about whether your car is even going to be in the parking lot or if it’s going to be stolen by morning, and campus life after dark feels entirely too stressful.

When looking at how Southern ranks for safety among HBCUs, Southern often lands in the lower tiers on various college safety and crime-reporting databases, frequently penalized for property concerns and lacking resources. According to PlainCampus, using the U.S. Department of Education Clery data, ranked Southern #1,287 out of 2,072 institutions based on its 2024 reported crime rate, with burglary identified as its largest reported criminal offense category.

A dark campus isn’t just an inconvenience; it’s a hazard that puts students at risk every single night. We shouldn’t have to dodge silent scooters in the middle of the road or cross our fingers every time we look toward the parking lot. It is time for the administration to step up, fix the lights, and make student safety a visible priority.

Based on reporting by Southern University – SouthernDIGEST.

Beatriz Monsivais turns a childhood passion into a 20-year banking legacy of trust, mentorship, and community impact at Springhill State Bank

Story and photos by Joycelyne Fadojutimi

For Beatriz Monsivais, the dream of working in finance didn’t begin in a corporate boardroom or a university lecture hall. It began in childhood, sparked by a simple garage-sale calculator her mother gave her. That cherished token turned into hours of playing “store” and ignited a lifelong passion for numbers. Today, as a successful Branch Manager at Spring Hill State Bank, Beatriz is using that same passion to build financial bridges and empower the East Texas community.

Roots of Resilience and Language

Born in Mexico City, Beatriz immigrated to the United States at age five. Growing up in a traditional Mexican household, her mother enforced a strict, loving rule: only Spanish at home.

“My mom didn’t want us to lose our language,” Beatriz recalls. “I am so thankful for that today. Being bilingual hasn’t just been a personal gift; it has played a massive role in shaping my career.”

Alongside the gift of bilingualism, her mother instilled a relentless, multi-generational work ethic. In their household, the standard was clear: “If you’re going to do something, do it right!” Beatriz carries this philosophy into her leadership every day, ensuring that everyone who sits across from her desk receives her absolute best.

A Temporary Detour Becomes a Lifelong Calling

Beatriz graduated from Longview High School in 2002 and enrolled at Kilgore College. Hoping to earn extra money before fully diving into her studies, she accepted an entry-level position at East Texas Professional Credit Union. What was meant to be a one-year break quickly evolved into a flourishing, decades-long career.

When she later transitioned to Spring Hill State Bank, leadership recognized her drive. Supported by the bank, she attended classes through the Center for Financial Training, ultimately earning her Lending Certificate and expanding her expertise into the world of real estate and personal loans.

Throughout her 20-year journey at the bank, Beatriz found strength in powerful female mentors. Leaders like Lynn Magee, who first hired her as a new account representative, saw her immense potential and constantly championed her growth. Working alongside Sharon Copeland, Beatriz absorbed invaluable real estate knowledge. Seeing women thrive in pivotal leadership roles motivated Beatriz to keep climbing.

Bridging the Gap in Community Banking

When Beatriz first walked through the doors of Spring Hill State Bank in 2006, she was the only bilingual employee on staff. Today, she looks around with immense pride at a diverse team of bilingual tellers, customer service representatives, loan secretaries, and lending officers.

“Relationships and trust are fundamental pillars of Hispanic culture, and those values fit perfectly with community banking,” Beatriz explains. “Financial education—understanding credit, building savings, buying a home, or launching a business—can alter the trajectory of a family’s future. Sometimes, people just need a professional they can truly trust to explain their options in their own language and help them take that brave first step.”

For Beatriz, banking is entirely about people. Her leadership style is deeply rooted in making her team feel supported and ensuring every customer feels safe, welcomed, and genuinely cared for.

Words of Wisdom for the Next Generation

A devoted wife to her husband, Julio, and a proud mother to her two children, Alexander and Natalia, Beatriz attributes her achievements to her roots and her mother’s guidance.

To the next generation of Hispanic professionals aspiring to break into the financial sector, Beatriz offers powerful advice:

“Believe in yourself and exactly what you bring to the table. Our culture, our unique life experiences, and our language are not hurdles—they are profound strengths. Stay willing to learn, never fear a new opportunity, and surround yourself with mentors who uplift you. Above all, never feel like you have to change who you are to achieve success.”

The post ROOTED IN CULTURE, LEADING IN BANKING appeared first on East Texas Review.

Based on reporting by East Texas Review.

Montclair Brewery has become much more than a place to enjoy a craft beer. Located on Walnut Street in Montclair, New Jersey, the family-owned microbrewery has developed into a gathering place where beer, music, culture, history and community come together. Founded by husband-and-wife team Leo and Denise Sawadogo, the brewery has established a distinctive identity by connecting its beers to African, Caribbean and African American history and culture.

The story began with Leo Sawadogo’s passion for home brewing. Originally from Burkina Faso in West Africa, Leo grew up watching his mother brew traditional beverages using grains, herbs and spices. Brewing was part of his cultural experience long before craft beer became a major American trend. After years of making beer at home and sharing it with friends and family, Leo and Denise began imagining how they could transform that passion into a business. The company was established in 2014, and after years of planning and nearly a year of construction, Montclair Brewery opened its doors in October 2018.

The brewery represented an important milestone for Montclair because it became the town’s first microbrewery. But its significance extended beyond being a new business. Leo and Denise brought together two different cultural backgrounds: Leo’s West African heritage and Denise’s Jamaican roots. Those influences became part of the brewery’s personality and, importantly, part of the beers themselves. Instead of treating culture as something separate from the business, the couple made it an essential ingredient in their approach to brewing.

One of the brewery’s most distinctive traditions is its annual Black History Month beer series. These beers are often inspired by prominent figures, historical events and cultural traditions. Over the years, the brewery has created beers honoring people such as Harriet Tubman, Larry Doby, Maya Angelou, Chadwick Boseman and journalist Gil Noble. The brewery has also used its beers to celebrate African heritage and important moments in Black history. In 2026, for example, its series included beers inspired by Patrice Lumumba and Larry Doby.

The story behind each beer is almost as important as the beer itself. Montclair Brewery demonstrates how food and beverages can become vehicles for storytelling. A beer named for Larry Doby can introduce customers to the history of the baseball pioneer who broke the American League’s color barrier and later made Montclair his home. A beer inspired by Patrice Lumumba can encourage people to learn about African independence and the history of the Democratic Republic of Congo. In this way, the brewery turns a visit to a taproom into an opportunity for cultural discovery.

Montclair Brewery has also connected its business to local history. One example is the Howe House, one of Montclair’s historic homes associated with the town’s African American history. The brewery created a Belgian-style ale honoring James Howe and committed a portion of sales from the beer toward efforts to preserve the historic property. This illustrates a larger philosophy behind the brewery: its identity is not simply based on selling beer, but on using the business as a platform to recognize people, places and stories that deserve greater attention.

The brewery’s importance also comes from its role as a community gathering place. Its taproom offers indoor and outdoor seating and hosts a variety of events and activities. Music, entertainment, cultural programs and community gatherings have helped make the brewery part of Montclair’s social landscape. During the COVID-19 pandemic, when gathering in public spaces became difficult, the brewery adapted its business model by shifting toward bottling and outdoor operations. Its ability to adapt helped it survive a period that was devastating for many small businesses.

Another important part of Montclair Brewery’s story is representation within the craft-beer industry. Black-owned breweries remain a small portion of the American craft-brewing landscape, making the visibility of businesses like Montclair Brewery particularly significant. Denise has also become an important voice for women in the brewing industry, while Leo’s background and approach have helped challenge traditional ideas about who a brewer is supposed to be. Together, they demonstrate that the craft-beer industry can reflect a much broader range of cultures and experiences.

The brewery’s success has also allowed its reach to extend beyond Montclair. Its beers have received attention from regional and national media, and the company has participated in collaborations with other breweries and cultural organizations. One collaboration celebrated the 50th anniversary of hip-hop with the legendary DJ duo Awesome 2. Other beers have incorporated ingredients such as baobab fruit, sorghum and spices connected to African and Caribbean traditions. These collaborations and unusual ingredients help distinguish Montclair Brewery from breweries whose identities are based primarily on conventional beer styles.

Ultimately, Montclair Brewery represents an example of how a small business can become part of the cultural fabric of a community. Leo and Denise Sawadogo created a brewery from a personal passion, but they built something larger than a place to drink. Their beers tell stories about Africa, the Caribbean, Black America and Montclair itself. The brewery demonstrates that entrepreneurship can preserve history, celebrate culture and bring people together. In Montclair, every pint can become part of a larger conversation about heritage, creativity, community and the continuing evolution of Black-owned businesses in America.

Based on reporting by The Positive Community.

Black voters have been among the Democratic Party’s most dependable supporters for generations. But loyalty and trust are not the same thing.

With less than a month to go before the midterm elections, Black voters and political strategists say years of inconsistent engagement and unmet expectations have left some voters questioning whether the party has earned their continued support. The challenge now is bigger than winning votes. It’s convincing distrustful voters that staying politically engaged is worth it.

Communications strategist Ashley Etienne argues that Democrats have spent years taking one of their most reliable voting blocs for granted, creating a widening trust gap that threatens the party’s long-term prospects in Texas and nationally.

“Trust is the currency of persuasion,” she said. “We’re seeing distrust at an all-time high, especially with Black voters … distrust of the media, institutions, the Democratic Party, self-agreement. Campaigns don’t lose because they fail to talk to voters. They lose because they fail to listen.”

Etienne, who served as a senior adviser to Presidents Barack Obama and Joe Biden and communications director for Vice President Kamala Harris, said repairing that relationship requires something considerably more difficult than another campaign advertisement. It requires listening.

Black support remains strong, but not absolute

Recent polling suggests Democrats continue to hold a substantial advantage among Black voters heading into November, but that support isn’t universal.

A July 2026 Pew Research Center survey found 68% of Black registered voters said they would support the Democratic candidate for U.S. House in their district, compared with 8% who favored the Republican. Another 25% said they were either unsure or would support another candidate.

That uncertainty follows some erosion in Democratic support among Black voters in the 2024 presidential election. A Pew analysis of validated voters found 83% of Black voters supported Kamala Harris in 2024, compared with 92% who supported Joe Biden in 2020.

Pew found that shift was driven less by individual voters switching from one party to another than by differences in who turned out to vote.

The findings don’t suggest Black voters have abandoned Democrats. They do raise questions about whether longstanding party loyalty is enough to guarantee participation.

“We’ve been making that same argument decade after decade,” Etienne said. “Those are becoming less persuasive arguments.”

Why is trust disappearing?

The distrust isn’t necessarily about one candidate or one election. For some Black voters, frustration comes from feeling heavily courted during election season without seeing enough progress afterward on the issues affecting their daily lives.

Housing costs remain a concern. So do education, economic opportunity, neighborhood investment, and the cost of everyday necessities.

That creates a difficult dynamic for campaigns: Asking voters to participate in a political system that some believe has not delivered enough for them.

It also raises a separate question. What happens when frustration with political parties becomes disengagement from the political process altogether?

What happens when voters stay home?

The answer can become particularly consequential in local elections, where races can be decided by hundreds of votes rather than thousands.

Harris County Democratic Party Chair Traci Gibson has pointed to several 2024 judicial races decided by narrow margins. District judge candidate Elaine Palmer lost by 304 votes, while Jeralynn Manor lost by 647 votes.

Gibson also warned about voters who begin Harris County’s lengthy ballot but don’t finish it.

“If you go into these polls and you vote for the first five people and then you leave, that’s how we get Elaine Palmer losing by about 300 votes,” Gibson said.

The larger issue extends beyond any candidate or political party. Judges are elected. School boards make decisions affecting students and families. City and county officials determine how public dollars are spent. State lawmakers decide which bills become state law.

Those decisions are made regardless of how many eligible voters participate.

For voters distrustful of political parties or government institutions, political participation also doesn’t have to mean unquestioning loyalty to either party.

Voters can research candidates individually, compare their positions, attend or watch candidate forums and examine an incumbent’s record against previous campaign promises. They can also learn what the often-overlooked offices farther down the ballot actually control.

In that sense, distrust can become a reason for greater scrutiny rather than disengagement.

Candidates have work to do, too

Responsibility for rebuilding participation doesn’t fall solely on voters.

At a recent Third Ward town hall hosted by state Rep. Jolanda “Jo” Jones, Harris County Precinct 7 Constable James “Smokie” Phillips and Houston Black American Democrats, voters and political strategists called for more sustained campaign engagement.

“Investment drives outcomes. If you don’t invest in it, it doesn’t work,” Etienne said.

She argued that campaigns spend heavily on polling, consultants and advertising while directing too little money toward Black-led political infrastructure and organizations with established relationships in Black communities.

Shamier Bouie, chair of Houston Black American Democrats, said organizing cannot begin a few months before Election Day.

“It’s all about year-round organizing, and increased investment in Black voter outreach … more funding for Black-led organizations that have relationships, infrastructure, and experience in effectively engaging Black communities,” Bouie said.

The question of investment also surfaced in July when Democratic U.S. Senate candidate James Talarico pledged $25 million toward Black voter outreach. Some voters wanted specifics about where and how that money would be spent.

“We still need our kids, we still need our schools equitably funded,” said Augie Cahee, vice president of marketing web delivery at JPMorgan Chase & Co. “So, we want to know what you’re going to do with the money. Don’t stand up and tell me $25 million and you don’t have a plan.”

The exchange illustrated the larger trust problem: Voters aren’t simply asking candidates to talk to them. They want to know what happens after the conversation.

From distrust to accountability

Karla West, a precinct chair for downtown’s Precinct 16, said responsibility ultimately belongs on both sides.

“We fell asleep at the wheel,” West said of voter turnout.

But she also challenged political leaders.

“The Democratic Party did not say what they would do for you,” West said. “We haven’t heard a plan for years. I’m sick of it. We have to have strategies, we have to have plans, we have to have a mechanism in place for people to feel they are heard.”

Defender Reporter Tannistha Sinha contributed to this report.

Based on reporting by Houston Defender.

As the father of a young daughter with autism, I have learned that getting your child to school is not always as simple as putting them on the bus and waiting for them to come home.

When your child has an Individualized Education Program, you pay attention to things other parents may never have to think about.

Who is working with my child today? Does this person understand her needs? What happens if her routine suddenly changes? If something goes wrong and she cannot fully explain it to me, who will be able to tell me what happened?

Those questions do not stop at the schoolhouse door. They follow our children onto the school bus.

That is why one of the simplest pieces of advice I can give another parent of a child with an IEP is this: Get to know your child’s bus driver and attendant.

Learn their names. Introduce yourself. Say good morning. Ask how your child is doing on the ride.

Those few minutes can matter more than we realize.

For some children with disabilities, consistency is incredibly important. The same bus, the same driver, the same seat and the same routine can provide a sense of comfort before the school day even begins.

Then one morning, something changes.

The bus is late. There is a substitute driver. The route changes. The bus does not arrive when expected.

For many families, that is an inconvenience. For some of our children, it can change the entire morning.

As parents, we also know that our children may not always come home and tell us exactly what happened during the ride. That makes the adults who interact with them even more important.

A bus driver may notice that your child suddenly does not want to get on the bus. An attendant may notice that your child seems upset at the same point along the route every day.

They may notice a change in behavior, a problem with another student, or simply that something seems different.

That information can be valuable to a parent.

But relationships work both ways.

Parents can also help transportation staff understand our children. You do not have to share every detail of your child’s disability or educational record. But appropriate information about communication, behavior, safety or transitions can help the adults responsible for transporting your child better understand how to support them.

And when a transportation problem occurs, you are no longer starting the conversation with a complete stranger.

That does not mean parents should be responsible for fixing school transportation. We shouldn’t.

School systems remain responsible for providing required transportation services, including services identified in a student’s IEP. When buses are repeatedly late, accommodations are not being followed or transportation problems interfere with a child’s education, parents should document those concerns and raise them with the appropriate school and transportation officials.

Building a relationship with a driver should complement accountability, not replace it.

That distinction is important.

As a father navigating special education, I have learned that advocacy is not only about what happens during an IEP meeting.

Advocacy happens in the hallway. It happens at pickup. It happens through an email to a teacher. And sometimes it happens at the bus stop at 7 o’clock in the morning.

Our children’s educational experience begins before they enter the classroom and continues after they leave it.

Think about the person behind the wheel.

For some children, their bus driver is the first school employee they see every morning and the last one they see every afternoon.

That person is part of your child’s school experience.

So tomorrow morning, if you haven’t already, introduce yourself.

Learn the driver’s name.

Let them learn your child’s name — and, when appropriate, a little about what helps your child succeed.

It won’t prevent every late bus, substitute driver or transportation problem.

But if there is one thing I continue to learn as both a father and an advocate, it is that relationships matter.

And for children with IEPs, one more adult who knows, understands, and cares about your child can make a difference.

Based on reporting by Washington Informer.