Black History
Framing Our Future: Liberty Bank Celebrates 50 Years
NNPA NEWSWIRE — The elder McDonald, served as president & CEO of Liberty Bank from its founding in 1972, leading and growing the Black-owned bank for the better part of 50 years until earlier this year, when his son Todd, a Morehouse College graduate who earned his MBA from Northwestern University’s Kellogg School of Management, picked up the mantle to lead Liberty into the future.
By Anitra D. Brown | The New Orleans Tribune
Alden J. McDonald and his son Todd have at least two things in common. The first is that neither saw himself as a bank president. In fact, Alden McDonald says it took a novena and Dr. Norman Francis asking him three times to become the president of what would be the newly founded Liberty Bank & Trust before he said “yes.”
“I didn’t’ know whether I was prepared to run a bank.” Alden McDonald once told The New Orleans Tribune. “No one else had walked that plank.”
The truth – he was ready. A graduate of the LSU School of Banking and of Columbia University’s Commercial Banking Management Program, McDonald began his career at International City Bank in New Orleans in 1966, rising to the position of vice president for consumer lending. And during those six years, he zealously learned all he could about the industry, working 12- to 14-hour days.
International City Bank didn’t want him to leave, offering him a senior vice president position to urge him to stay, he says. Instead, he followed advice given to him by the young lady he was dating at the time, Rhesa Ortique, whom he went on to marry. She was the one who suggested he go to a novena in search of guidance and direction.
“So, I did the novena, and I made the decision to do this, right. I am 29 at the time, and to be honest with you, I didn’t know what the hell I was thinking.”
In contrast, it didn’t take a special prayer service for Todd McDonald to know he wanted to be his own boss one day; still, he didn’t see banking in his future. The enterprising youngster, who washed his parents’ friends’ cars while they visited to make extra money, always saw himself as a businessman. However, he thought banking was static and that it would not offer the diverse opportunities he wanted to experience… that was until he had the opportunity to shadow one of his father’s friends, Joe Canizaro, the founder of First Bank & Trust. It was then he realized there was more to banking than, well, banking.
“He brought me into meetings, and I saw how he used the bank as a platform to go into many different businesses. I mean he was building a city in Mississippi; he had the hospitality company; he had a construction company; health care — all these different businesses. And I was like, so you could run a bank and have all of these tentacles out there at the same time. Okay, I would never get tired of doing this.”
At the time, a younger Todd McDonald didn’t really see his father doing all of that at Liberty; but he understood why.

In 1972, with Dr. Norman Francis on its Board of Directors, Alden McDonald as President & CEO and $2 million in assets, Liberty Bank was founded to more Black New Orleanians and other under-served members of the community achieve their dreams. Today, Liberty has branches in 11 states and has $1 billion in assets.
“It was for obvious reasons — a lack of capital,” he says. “I’m sure he could have ventured off in many different ways, as well. But that experience provided me with a vision for myself. How do we leverage a bank charter? You know, I’ve been around my dad for 41 years; but I’ve only been employed with the bank for 19. I heard the stories about him helping people. And so, I’m like, you know, once you start applying the ‘helping people’ with the ‘making money’ and ‘helping other people make money’, it was an easy sell. I’ve dedicated my life to this. I wake up thinking about it. I go to sleep thinking about it.”
And with that, the other thing father and son have in common is that despite each man’s initial misgivings, running a bank is precisely what he has done or is doing.
With his son’s rise to bank president, Alden McDonald, continues to serve as the head of the Liberty Financial Holding Company.
It’s Always Been Huge
The elder McDonald, served as president & CEO of Liberty Bank from its founding in 1972, leading and growing the Black-owned bank for the better part of 50 years until earlier this year, when his son Todd, a Morehouse College graduate who earned his MBA from Northwestern University’s Kellogg School of Management, picked up the mantle to lead Liberty into the future.
The pair took a little time to catch up with The New Orleans Tribune recently to talk about what is now the nation’s largest Black-owned bank. Sitting at a table in the community room of the bank’s headquarters in New Orleans East, the elder McDonald began by mentioning a significant milestone Liberty Bank reached in recent years – $1 billion dollars in assets.
“It was his idea, not mine,” he says with proud smile and a little laughter, nodding in Todd’s direction.
Todd chimes in through the laughter, “That’s what we have to do as a bank to survive. If we don’t get bigger, the cost of operating just gets bigger and you can’t manage the expense side. So, it was very important for us to reach that milestone.”
“It’s a lot of money,” Alden McDonald says. “How many other people do we know that have a billion-dollar company? How many in the city of New Orleans. Just, when you think about it… the significance of it. It’s… it’s…
“Huge,” Todd interjects, finishing the sentence his father started.
“Huge,” Alden McDonald repeats reflectively. “You know, Todd and I, we talked five years ago when he took a real an active role at the bank. He was in charge of strategic planning and visioning. And his vision went beyond my wildest dreams. When he was pushing for a billion dollars, he was looking to make sure we could survive in the banking industry. When I got in the banking industry, there were 35,000 banks. Today, there are less than 5,000 banks. When I got into the business, there were 100 Black banks. Today, there are less than 20. Everything in the industry says a $200 million bank is not going to survive. A $500 million bank is not going to survive. So the benchmark he came up with was a billion.”
The achievement took more than just reaching $1 billion in assets. As Alden McDonald explains, in the banking industry, the rule of thumb is an eight percent capital to asset ratio. In banking terms, capital is the total equity a company has — assets minus liability.
“And then, a couple of years ago, the feds started sending signals. They wanted a 10 percent ratio,” the senior McDonald says.
When Liberty set out to grow to a billion in assets it only had about $60 million in equity. It needed at least $90 million.
It was Todd, who, while serving as Liberty’s executive vice president of corporate strategy, developed national partnerships that produced several new revenue streams that raised $30 million in capital for the bank.
All of this was taking place over the last few years with the pandemic as a backdrop and in the wake of the murder of George Floyd, events that prompted shifts in the nation, one of which included a bit of pressure put on the big boys of banking to help minority banks grow.
And Liberty’s plan for raising the equity it needed to support its growth was realized.
“If it was me, I would asked JP Morgan for $5 million, Citibank for $5 million, Wells Fargo for $5 million and Bank of America for $5 million. Todd goes in, he asks JP Morgan for $30 million. I said, ‘boy, you’re crazy?’ They ended up giving $18 million. Wells gave $5 million. Citi gave $5 million. Bank of America gave $2 million,” the elder McDonald recounts. “I would have been pleased with whatever; but because of the young mind and the young vision, he ended up getting $30 million of non-voting capital. Non-voting. It does not dilute one bit of ownership,”
Perhaps the only thing huger than Liberty Bank reaching that milestone – more than $1 billion in assets the equity to back it up – is the force the bank has been for its customers in New Orleans and across the country.
Even when its assets weren’t, Liberty’s impact has been huge from the start.
Forging a Path to Financial Freedom

The first Liberty Bank branch was a repurposed construction trailer located on Tulane Avenue.
If Alden McDonald wasn’t ready to lead a Black-owned bank in 1972, Black New Orleans was ready for one.
Beginning in the early 1960s, Alden McDonald and Dr. Norman Francis saw a Black community growing increasingly dissatisfied with inequity and looking for increased opportunity, especially on the economic front. They wanted mortgage loans and loans to start businesses or launch political campaigns without higher interest rates or resorting to subprime finance companies. And if they couldn’t find what they wanted in the mainstream banking industry, they would have to create their own.
That is why Francis asked a young Alden McDonald to leave his comfortable job and start his own bank not once, not twice, but three times — there was a need for a bank that would help more Black New Orleanians and other under-served members of the community achieve their dreams.
Liberty Bank was one of 42 African American-owned banks to open in the U.S. between 1962 and 1979, according to the National Bankers Association. They opened to serve communities that had been all but shut out of the mainstream. When the other banks refused to loan African Americans money or loaned it to them at extraordinarily high interest rates, Black-owned banks were there; and their influence was tangible from the very early history.
There is no telling how many Black New Orleanians own homes and operate businesses because Liberty Bank exists.
Norman Francis once said, “We had a dream to do something special in New Orleans. We started a community bank with a focus on an under-served population.”
From a construction trailer on Tulane Avenue, Liberty now has branches in 11 states and the cyber ability to conduct banking operations nationwide. Liberty Bank has withstood natural disasters and weathered national and regional financial crises. It has not only existed for 50 years, it has thrived. From $2 million in assets in 1972 to the largest African American-owned financial institution in the United States.
More importantly, here in New Orleans, and in other cities across the country, Liberty has helped individuals achieve their financial goals and financial freedom. That is what is meant by “Framing Our Future”, the theme of the bank’s 50-year anniversary.
Big Things Popping
The bank is also a player in helping business owners and investors make major moves. On the day The Tribune met with the McDonalds, they were gearing up for a meeting with a customer about a major project in downtown Minneapolis — the redevelopment of a one-million-square-foot building, Alden McDonald tells.
Financing those types of multi-million-dollar endeavors have become common practice for Liberty Bank.
Just before the pandemic, Alden McDonald says the bank launched a new loan product designed specifically to help African American business owners get into the airport concessions business.
“We were lending money to African Americans with airport contracts,” he says. “Now, we got in it at the wrong time, but we still made out pretty good. We loaned about $30 million to business owners with concessions in airports in New York, New Jersey, Dallas, Los Angeles, and Chicago. We had them all over. It’s helped those businesses grow their capital. When you grow capital, you can hire more people, more Black people. So, the whole pie grows. Despite the pandemic, we only had a problem with one loan and we didn’t lose any money.”
Then there is the project in Houston.
“The mayor in Houston has put together a housing effort there to build maybe 500 homes using all Black folks — the contractors, the developers. And we are financing them. We think that’s going to be a real big signature project with anywhere between $30 million and $50 million in financing from us. And we do a little bit more than just lend the money. For example, this one developer didn’t have much experience, so we put them in touch with another developer we were financing in Houston to partner with him. Then the city gave him a contract that wasn’t to his advantage. So, when we read it, in putting his package together, we said, ‘this ain’t gonna work’. So we helped him to go back to the city, had the city to rework his contract where it made sense and protected him from losing money.”
There are other examples. Too many to include in a single article.
In addition to banking, Liberty has its own insurance agency and a heavy equipment leasing company. It also recently launched its own commercial insurance brokerage firm.
“We intend to be the largest Black-owned commercial insurance brokerage in the country in the next five years,” Alden McDonald says. “What does that mean? It means we are starting another company that will employ additional people. We are going to be able to help other companies in that business to write bigger policies. There is a network of smaller Black-owned commercial insurance brokers across the country, and we are going to help those businesses create more jobs and grow Black wealth. And we’re going to make some money. I always say that you can’t do good, if you don’t do well.”
And if Liberty Bank has its way, it will be doing both well and good into the future.
“We don’t plan on taking another 50 years to reach another $1 billion in assets. He plans on getting there in the next five years,” Alden says, again nodding at Todd.
“My perspective is we have a long runway,” says Todd. “I mean, we have decades ahead of us. You know, it is a lot of work and we’re just taking it step by step. We know organizationally, we can’t be everything to everybody. So, we’ve got to choose our lane and commit to it. We have an amazing underwriting muscle. As my dad mentioned earlier, typically Black-owned institutions didn’t have access to capital. So, the focus is what did we do the first 50 years and how do we leverage that to do it bigger the next 50 years.”
And while Liberty certainly has big things popping, it continues to provide access to basic financial services such as personal checking and savings accounts and multi-faceted products for both individuals and small businesses.
Even as it celebrates 50 years and touts more than a $1 billion in assets, helping everyday people achieve financial freedom is still a primary focus of the bank, says Todd McDonald.
In fact, the smallest loan Liberty offers is $500, it’s the sort of small dollar loan at a low interest rate that Liberty provides to customers to keep them from falling prey to predatory lenders like those in the payday loan industry.
“That’s the least amount of money you can borrow. But to me, that’s the most important product that we have,” says Todd. “I don’t say that a lot, but I prefer to help the average person get out of debt. If I can help someone consolidate from $1,000 a month in payments down to $300 a month in payments, saving them $700 dollars a month, it’s better than making a $1 million loan to me. Now if we repeat that and get a 1,000 people at a time refinancing debt, that’s $700,000 a month back into the pockets of people that look like you and me. Then, we could have the same thousand people start to buy their own homes. Now, if we coordinate efforts like that across the country, we could really pick up some ground. it’s off to the races from that standpoint. So, we’re not just looking at big transactions.”
Celebrating 50 Years with a Golden Jubilee
Liberty Bank’s story of resilience, profitability and empowerment was showcased on Friday, Dec. 2, at Liberty’s “Golden Jubilee” celebration at the Mahalia Jackson Theater. The event was produced by Bright Moments, LLC and was directed by celebrated theater icon Tommye Myrick.
Norman Robinson and Sally Ann Roberts narrated the event that explored the unique role Liberty Bank has played in closing the wealth gap in America. The evening featured song, dance, spoken word and visual renderings that tell the story the African American experience.
The show was led by the musical arrangements of the New Orleans Jazz Orchestra under the direction of Grammy award winner Adonis Rose and featured Irma Thomas, Leah Chase, Jr., Chase Kamata, Sharon Martin, Phillip Manuel, John Boutte, Tonya Boyd-Cannon, the Mystics, the Franklin Avenue Male Chorus, the C Sharpe Gospel Ensemble, the Kia Knight Dance Ensemble, Stilt Walkers, African Drummers, Harold Evans, Gwendolyn Foxworth, Lady Tambourine, Erica Falls, Peteh the Poet, and a host of others.
The post Framing Our Future: Liberty Bank Celebrates 50 Years appeared first on The New Orleans Tribune.
Black History
COMMENTARY: Battling Black Voter Distrust
HOUSTON DEFENDER — Black voters have long been a reliable base for the Democratic Party, but political strategists and voters indicate that years of inconsistent engagement and unfulfilled expectations have created a trust gap.
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.
“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.”
Karla West
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.
Black History
Why Black Artists Struggle to Sell Tours
HOUSTON DEFENDER — Recent industry reports and artist comments indicate that Black artists are struggling to sell concert tickets, highlighting a larger crisis in the touring business. This trend, dubbed “blue dot fever,” refers to empty seats at venues and has led to major touring acts canceling or postponing shows since spring 2026.
The internet chatter about Black artists struggling to sell concert tickets points to a much larger crisis reshaping the touring business, according to recent industry reporting and artists’ own comments.
Since spring 2026, a wave of major touring acts across genres have canceled or postponed shows due to sluggish ticket sales, a trend some in the industry have dubbed “blue dot fever,” a reference to the blue markers that indicate empty seats on Ticketmaster’s venue maps.
The phenomenon is not limited to Black performers, but several recent examples involving Black artists have fueled online conversation about whether Black touring acts face extra hurdles. For a market like Houston, home to a large hip-hop and R&B fan base and a steady stream of major tour stops, the debate carries added weight.
Here are five reasons the touring business has gotten tougher for artists trying to fill seats.
Blue dot fever is spreading industrywide
Black hip-hop megastars like Ludacris, T.I., Rick Ross, and BigXThaPlug felt the impact of Blue Dot Fever after struggling to sell tickets. Industry watchers say many artists are being booked into venues too large for their current draw, leaving sections visibly empty, discouraging last-minute buyers. The trend cuts across genres, but it has compounded challenges already facing some Black touring artists this year.
Fans keep comparing every artist to music’s biggest superstars
Grammy-winning singer Melanie Fiona recently weighed in on the online conversation about canceled shows and slow sales, explaining that most artists do not have the resources or reach of music’s top-tier headliners. The trade outlet Ticket News has made a similar point, noting that few artists can match the pricing structure or demand generated by superstar-level tours. When any artist falls short of that bar, fans and social media users are quick to call it a flop, even when the artist is still performing at a healthy level for their career stage.
Stadium bookings are outpacing actual demand
A hip-hop stadium concert set to take place in Louisville in October 2026, featuring Ludacris, T.I., Rick Ross, and BigXThaPlug, reportedly had nearly 47,000 seats still available as showtime approached. The example illustrates a broader booking problem. Venues sized for arena or stadium crowds do not always match the number of fans willing or able to buy tickets, regardless of an artist’s streaming numbers or name recognition. Some promoters are now facing pressure to book smaller, more intimate venues that better match an act’s current draw.
Rising costs are squeezing fans’ entertainment budgets
Housing, groceries, and everyday expenses have climbed for many households, and live music is often one of the first expenses fans cut. Older or legacy acts leaning on nostalgia appear to be hit hardest, since higher ticket and fee prices make attending a bigger financial decision than it once was. Newer or lower-profile Black artists competing for the same limited entertainment dollars face an uphill climb, especially when fans have to choose between one or two shows a year instead of several.
Social media shape who gets mainstream exposure
Does TikTok Dominate the music industry.
Black artists in hip-hop and R&B often compete for airplay and playlist placement within genre-specific categories rather than mainstream ones, which can limit the crossover exposure that turns streaming success into ticket sales. Artists working outside those two genres, including gospel, jazz, and Afrobeats-influenced acts, face a similar challenge in reaching audiences beyond their dedicated fan bases. Whether that structural gap is driving today’s sales slump remains an open question that industry analysts and artists are actively debating.
Based on reporting by Houston Defender.
Art
From Ma Rainey to AI: New Technology Amplifies an Old Fight over Artist Control
HOWARD UNIVERSITY NEWS SERVICE — August Wilson’s “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” explores Ma Rainey’s struggle for control over her music during a 1920s recording session, highlighting conflicts over art, money, and power dynamics between musicians and business interests. Round House Theatre’s production, running through October 18 in Bethesda, Maryland, stages this historical fight, drawing parallels to contemporary issues.
In August Wilson’s “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom,” Ma Rainey fights to control what happens to her music once she enters the recording studio. Today, musicians are confronting a new question: What happens when artificial intelligence can profit from the identity attached to their music?
Round House Theatre’s production of “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom,” which runs through Oct. 18 in Bethesda, Maryland, brings an older struggle over artistic control to the stage. Set during a recording session in 1920s Chicago, Wilson’s play follows Ma and her band as conflicts over art, money and control expose the imbalance between the musicians creating the work and the people conducting the business around it. That same question of who can profit from an artist’s value is now being tested in a very different setting nearly a century later.

Musicians Jason Isbell, David Lowery, Guy Forsyth and Eduardo Calle filed a class-action lawsuit on Aug. 31 against AI music company Suno. They allege that the company commercially exploits artists through an AI system capable of generating music imitating artists’ identities and styles without permission. Suno disputes the allegations.
The U.S. Copyright Office has also studied AI-generated digital replicas and recommended federal legislation to address gaps in protections against unauthorized replicas of a person’s voice or appearance. Its broader AI inquiry received more than 10,000 public comments.
For Nicole Michelle Haskins, who portrays Ma Rainey in the Round House production, the struggle over power begins with understanding Ma as more than a demanding recording star.
“She is the only advocate she has,” Haskins said. “The choices presented to her are to surrender or fight. Ma chooses to fight.”

Haskins said Ma enters the recording studio knowing the value that she brings, even as the people around her repeatedly challenge her decisions. She exercises her leverage and pushes back when others attempt to dictate how the session will proceed.
The real Gertrude “Ma” Rainey was one of the earliest Black women to record blues commercially. Between 1923 and 1928, she made more than 100 recordings for Paramount Records, according to the Smithsonian.
One surviving agreement shows how at least part of that business worked. A Dec. 12, 1923, royalty agreement for “Walking Blues,” signed by Rainey and composer Lovie Austin, provided them two cents for each printed piano copy sold in the United States and Canada. They were also entitled to one-fourth of the royalties the publisher received from mechanical reproductions, minus a 10% collection cost.

For Haskins, portraying a character negotiating those relationships does not feel entirely removed from being an artist today.
“The life that I live as an artist is not that dissimilar from the world that August Wilson has written,” Haskins said.
The technology surrounding artists, however, has changed dramatically.
The scale of AI-generated music has grown quickly. In July, streaming service Deezer said it was receiving about 90,000 fully AI-generated tracks a day, more than half of its daily uploads. Those tracks accounted for less than 3% of all streams.
The lawsuit against Suno is not primarily a traditional copyright case about whether an AI-generated song copied a particular recording. Instead, the musicians rely largely on state right-of-publicity laws, which concern the commercial use of a person’s identity.
According to the complaint, users can enter musicians’ names and use them as a retrieval key for AI-generated music drawing on characteristics associated with those artists. The plaintiffs argue that an output does not have to copy a specific song or perfectly reproduce an artist’s voice for the artist’s commercial identity to be exploited.
Suno disputes that characterization of its technology. The company has said it does not use artists’ names as training metadata and does not permit users to prompt its system for specific artists. Suno says references to artists are filtered and redirected toward descriptions of musical characteristics. Its own prompting guide, for example, encourages users to describe features such as tempo, vocals and instrumentation, using phrases like “bright pop track,” “110 BPM,” “female vocals” and a “big synth hook.”
The Suno dispute centers on more than ownership of a particular song or recording. It raises the question of whether an artist’s name, likeness and other identifying characteristics can be used commercially to generate new music without permission.
Haskins resists describing that underlying conflict as merely contemporary.
“I don’t think they feel contemporary,” Haskins said of Ma’s concerns. “I think they feel worldly.”
For Haskins, AI is one setting for a larger struggle over who has power over creative work. She said the problem of Black people being separated from control of things they created has existed far longer than the technology now raising those questions. The Library of Congress notes that early record companies sometimes used white performers to record music associated with Black artists rather than hire the Black performers themselves, while Black musicians remained rare on early commercial recordings.
“It just hasn’t stopped happening,” she said.
That interpretation shapes the way Haskins portrays Ma’s fight for control. She pointed to a brief moment in the second act when Ma’s manager attempts to steer her toward a different song. Ma refuses and proceeds with the recording she intends to make.
Haskins said the moment stands out precisely because Ma does not need a dramatic confrontation to establish who has the final say.
“She’s not demanding control. She’s not asserting control,” Haskins said. “She is simply positioning herself in correct order.”
La Tetra Metts-Owens is a reporter forHUNewsService.com. She covers Prince George’s County and theater.
Based on reporting by Howard University News Service.
Black History
PRESS ROOM: McDonald’s and BMOA Celebrate Herman Petty’s Legacy at the Obama Presidential Center
BLACKPRESSUSA NEWSWIRE — In 1968, Herman Petty opened his first McDonald’s near Jackson Park, creating a breakthrough moment for Black entrepreneurship on the South Side and helping open doors for generations of business owners and community leaders.
Sponsored by McDonald's.
A proud moment at the Obama Presidential Center in Chicago, where the Herman Petty Room now recognizes a true Chicago trailblazer. In 1968, Petty opened his first McDonald’s near Jackson Park, creating a breakthrough moment for Black entrepreneurship on the South Side and helping open doors for generations of business owners and community leaders.
Black History
IN MEMORIAM: The Mighty Sparrow, King of Calypso, Dies at Age 91 in New York
NEW YORK CARIB NEWS — Slinger Francisco, widely known as the Mighty Sparrow, died on Sunday, September 27, in New York at the age of 91. The legendary calypso artist passed peacefully after a brief illness, surrounded by loved ones. Born in Grand Roy, Grenada, in 1935, he moved to Trinidad as a child, where he developed his distinctive style.

NEW YORK — For anyone raised in the Caribbean, or in a Brooklyn, Bronx, or Queens household where the radio stayed tuned to home, there was never a time without the Mighty Sparrow. His voice was simply part of the furniture of our lives: at Carnival, at weddings, at Sunday lunch, in the car on the way to JFK. On Sunday, that voice went quiet.
Slinger Francisco, known to the world as the Mighty Sparrow, died Sunday, September 27, in New York. He was 91. His family said he passed peacefully after a brief illness, with loved ones at his bedside.
He was born in Grand Roy, Grenada, in 1935, and was still a small child when his family moved to Trinidad. Port of Spain made him. Its yards, its rum shops and its calypso tents gave him his rhythm and his sharp tongue. He sang in a church choir as a boy, but the city had a louder music, and by his late teens he was performing under the name that would become a title.
The breakthrough came in 1956 with “Jean and Dinah,” his mischievous farewell to the American servicemen leaving Trinidad after the war years. The song swept Carnival, winning him both the Road March and the Calypso King crown. It introduced a young performer who could be funny and fearless at once, who could make an entire nation laugh at itself and then think hard about what it had just laughed at.
He was fearless offstage too. A year after that first crown, he refused to compete over the paltry prize money offered to calypsonians, a stand that helped push the art form toward the respect and the pay its practitioners deserved.
Over six decades, he recorded hundreds of songs. He could turn a love story, a boast or a bit of bedroom comedy into a hit, but he was just as formidable when the subject was power. “Dan Is the Man in the Van” took apart a colonial schooling that taught Caribbean children nonsense about themselves. “Congo Man,” “Mr. Walker,” “The Lizard” and “Both of Them” became standards sung by people who had never set foot in a calypso tent. Long before anyone printed it on a poster, audiences had already crowned him the Calypso King of the World.
For New York’s Caribbean community, Sparrow was never just a visiting star. He made this city his home for many years and played its biggest rooms, including Madison Square Garden, before crowds of immigrants who heard in his voice the islands they had left behind. A Sparrow show here was less a concert than a homecoming.
Trinidad and Tobago honored him with the Trinity Cross, then its highest national award, and generations of calypsonians and soca artists have named him as the standard they measured themselves against. Fans called him “Birdie,” and the affection in that nickname said everything.
Tributes are already pouring in from across the region and the diaspora, and they will keep coming for weeks. But perhaps the truest tribute is the simplest one: somewhere tonight, in Port of Spain, St. George’s, Flatbush and beyond, someone is putting on a Sparrow record, turning it up, and singing along.
Based on reporting by New York Carib News.
Black History
Rulings Leave Questions Lingering in Nolan Wells Case
CHICAGO CRUSADER — The Crusader’s ongoing “Lynchings By Suicide” investigation began after Demartravion “Trey” Reed, a 21-year-old Delta State University student, was found hanging from a tree on the Cleveland, Miss., campus on Sept. 15, 2025. The state medical examiner ruled Reed’s death a suicide within days, a finding his family continues to dispute.
A grand jury declines charges in the Nolan Wells case, a Jackson man pleads not guilty in Tasia Fortune’s hanging death, and a Maryland suicide ruling lands on raw nerves.
A Mississippi grand jury has declined to charge anyone in the death of Nolan Xavier Wells, the 18-year-old Black college football player who disappeared during a July Fourth boat trip with a group of white friends and was found dead two days later off Horn Island. His parents rejected the decision on Sept. 22, telling reporters they do not believe their son simply drowned and vowing to keep fighting for answers.
The grand jury’s report was made public late on Sept. 21, the same week a Jackson man pleaded not guilty to murder in the hanging death of Tasia Fortune and Maryland officials ruled that a Black man found hanging from a tree in Prince George’s County died by suicide.
All three cases now join the Crusader’s ongoing “Lynchings By Suicide” investigation, which began after Demartravion “Trey” Reed, a 21-year-old Delta State University student, was found hanging from a tree on the Cleveland, Miss., campus on Sept. 15, 2025. The state medical examiner ruled Reed’s death a suicide within days, a finding his family continues to dispute.
Nolan Wells: ‘We’ll Never Stop’
Wells, a wide receiver at Southwest Mississippi Community College, went to Horn Island, a barrier island reachable only by boat, with high school friends on July 4. When the group returned to the mainland that afternoon, Wells was not with them. A park ranger found his body in the water off the island on July 6.
Investigators have long said Wells chose to stay behind. His family never believed it, and an independent autopsy that attorney Ben Crump released in July at the NAACP National Convention in Chicago found an unexplained area of discoloration at the back of Wells’ head and ruled the cause of death undetermined.
The grand jury, which heard from 43 witnesses, found Wells’ death “consistent with drowning.” Jackson County District Attorney Angel Myers McIlrath said there is “absolutely no evidence” that race played a role, according to NBC News. The state medical examiner, however, also ruled the cause and manner of death undetermined.
“Elmore and I do not believe that Nolan simply and accidentally drowned,” Christine Wonsley, Wells’ mother, said, according to CNN. His father, Elmore Wonsley, reminded supporters that his son is “not a hashtag, he’s our son.”
Crump said the district attorney wants the public to accept “We’ll never know,” while the family answers, “We’ll never stop.” The family is asking the U.S. Department of Justice to investigate and demanding release of the full case file and the state’s autopsy report. Mississippi has no statute of limitations on homicide.
Tasia Fortune: An Arrest, Not an Ending
Fortune, a 29-year-old mother of four, was found Aug. 3 hanging from a tree behind a vacant house on Road of Remembrance in west Jackson. From the start, her family insisted she did not take her own life.
After the state medical examiner ruled her death a homicide on Sept.10, Jackson police arrested Jarques “Jock” Ratliff, 51, the next day as he walked along Capitol Street and charged him with murder. Ratliff is African American, as was Fortune, according to Mississippi Today. Police said the two knew each other but have not said how.
Ratliff pleaded not guilty on Sept. 14 and was denied bond as a flight risk. His attorney, Toney Baldwin, called him “a pillar of the community” and said his client made no confession.
Jackson Police Chief RaShall Brackney called the arrest “not the conclusion” and said more arrests are expected. “We understand this case is being viewed through a broader lens, a global lens,” Brackney said, according to ABC News.
Christy Spivey, Fortune’s mother, said that when police told her about the arrest, “I just started crying and told them ‘thank you, thank you, thank you.’”
Activists want more. Byron Brumfield of Medgar Evers Reloaded: A Mission and a Movement said Ratliff “should be charged with a hate crime also, just like anybody else,” according to WLOX. Ward 3 Jackson City Councilman Kenneth Stokes has asked U.S. Attorney Baxter Kruger’s office for federal assistance.
Prince George’s County: A Ruling in Hours
In Upper Marlboro, Md., a Black man was found hanging from a tree outside a business on D’Arcy Road on the morning of Sept. 20. Within hours, the state medical examiner ruled his death a suicide with no other signs of trauma. He has not been publicly identified.
Police Chief George Nader said the man’s family agrees with the ruling. Relatives asked that his name be withheld and said the public attention had made his death “more unbearable,” according to the Maryland Daily Record.
County Executive Aisha Braveboy urged residents not to share images or spread speculation online. “This is a tragedy. A person is dead,” Braveboy said, according to WUSA9.
A Pattern the Crusader HasTracked
Mississippi is where Emmett Till, a 14-year-old Chicago boy, was abducted and murdered in 1955, and where Mack Charles Parker was dragged from a Poplarville jail and lynched in 1959.
In February, JULIAN, the civil rights organization founded by attorney Jill Collen Jefferson, released “A Crimson Record,” a report documenting more than 70 suspected modern-day lynchings across seven Southern states since 2000. The report calls the federal Emmett Till Anti-Lynching Act, signed in 2022, “toothless.”
The Wells family is pressing for a federal investigation. Jackson police have promised more arrests in Fortune’s killing, and activists are calling for hate crime charges. More than a year after Trey Reed was found on the Delta State campus, his family is still waiting on answers of its own.
Across these cases, families and advocates have made the same demand: release the grand jury findings, the autopsy reports and the evidence behind every ruling.
Based on reporting by Chicago Crusader.
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