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.

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.

As Black parents strive to raise resilient, confident, brilliant children within systems that too often underestimate them, an Atlanta-based company launches an app that delivers a five-minute daily wellness practice, backed by forty years of research, to help build the identity, confidence, and self-worth their children carry into every room.

ATLANTA — October 6, 2026 — Every morning, Black children walk into classrooms and spaces that weren’t designed with them in mind. They carry a quiet, daily weight most adults never see. There is no shortage of national conversation about the challenges they face; there has been far less discussion about what actually helps. Yet the research has pointed to answers for decades: a grounded sense of who they are, the steadying power of breath, and the pride that comes from knowing their history and their own worth. What was missing was a way to deliver those answers to Black children, consistently and easily, every single day. Until now.

Bright Crowns, the first daily wellness practice built specifically for Black children, launched and is available now on the Apple App Store. The morning practice takes just five minutes and fits easily into a busy day.

“As much as we’d like to, we can’t always lighten the load our children carry each day,” said co-founder and CEO Tia Harley. “But we can help make them strong enough to carry it — with their heads held high.”

Here is what the Bright Crowns wellness practice delivers. Each morning, a child opens the app and hears a voice that sounds like home. The breath comes first, to help them settle and notice what they’re feeling. Then an affirmation that names who they are and the people they come from. Then the story of someone from Black history whose life is proof of the strength being built in them that day. A new figure every day, all year long, not just in February. Not a history lesson, but evidence of what they already carry inside. They start each day steady, certain, and ready for whatever it holds.

The arc is deliberate: Breathe. Belong. Become. That five-minute morning session is called Crown Time, and Bright Crowns doesn’t stop there. Its practices carry a child through the whole day. Crown Ready steadies a child before a hard test or a game. Crown Reset meets a big feeling the moment it rises. Crown Together is a weekend reflection a parent reads aloud. And Bedtime Crown carries them into sleep with folktales from the African diaspora. Instead of points or badges, children earn crowns drawn from real African kingdoms — an inheritance, not a reward. A badge says good job; a crown says this was always yours.

“Bright Crowns isn’t about making a child feel better for five minutes,” said Tia Harley. “It’s about giving them tools that compound: steadiness, identity, and resilience they carry long after the session ends, into the classroom, under pressure, and into rooms where they may be the only one.”

Built on joy. Backed by forty years of science. Husband-and-wife team David and Tia Harley built Bright Crowns out of love for their own children. Then they discovered that every piece of what they had built had already been supported by research. A landmark study in the journal Science found that a brief, culturally grounded practice measurably narrowed the racial achievement gap for Black students, without any change to the school itself. Research has since identified ethnic-racial identity as a key protective factor for Black youth mental health in the Annual Review of Clinical Psychology, and a meta-analysis of 76 mindfulness programs for young people found significant improvements in stress, attention, emotional regulation, and academic engagement. Psychologists have a name for what these build together: hardiness, the inner architecture that lets a person meet difficulty without breaking. It has been studied since 1979, when psychologist Suzanne Kobasa first identified it, and the research is clear that it is teachable, built through brief, consistent daily practice. “The research showed that while the school didn’t change,” Tia Harley said, “what those children carried into it did.”

A category built, not borrowed. Wellness has grown into one of the largest industries in the world, worth roughly $2.1 trillion in the U.S. alone, with apps for sleep, focus, breathing, and meditation. Yet when the Harleys went looking for a daily wellness practice built for their own Black children, they found none. What existed was generic: polished and useful, but spoken in voices and settings that never felt like home, and asking a Black child to set part of themselves aside just to belong there. “A Black child’s identity isn’t separate from their wellness. It’s part of it,” said Tia Harley. Bright Crowns wasn’t adapted for Black children after the fact. It was built with them in mind from the very beginning, the first of its kind, and one this community has long deserved.

David Harley, an award-winning creative director, began building a morning wellness routine at their family’s kitchen table, and he and Tia joined forces to grow it into what Bright Crowns is today. The two brought professional rigor to a labor of love: David, with two decades leading multicultural campaigns for major brands, and Tia, who led business development and partnerships at Google. They built Bright Crowns to a standard they’d trust with their own children. Then they used it with their two kids every morning for more than a year before it reached anyone else. “We built it for our children first,” Tia Harley said. “We watched them change: quicker to recover from tough moments, more willing to try hard things, holding their heads a little higher. Then we realized every Black family we knew needed the same thing.” The launch arrives as Black families across the country are thinking hard about how to prepare and educate their children in schools and spaces that weren’t always designed with them in mind. Bright Crowns speaks to the part that travels with a child into any classroom: the certainty of who they are.

Availability. Bright Crowns is available now on the Apple App Store with a free 7-day trial. Families who join by December 31, 2026 lock in the Founding Family rate of $69.99 for the first year; one subscription includes every child in the home. Learn more and download at hellobrightcrowns.com.

“Our children are already brilliant,” said co-founder and chief product officer David Harley. “We don’t teach them to survive. We teach them they were born to thrive. Their crowns are already on — we just help them remember.”

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About Bright Crowns
Bright Crowns is a five-minute daily wellness practice built for Black children, available now on the Apple App Store. It is the first daily practice of its kind, grounded in decades of research on identity, mindfulness, and resilience. Founded by husband-and-wife team David and Tia Harley, parents of two, Bright Crowns pairs deep cultural fluency with the quality families expect and deserve. It helps Black children feel steady in themselves, certain of who they are, and ready to show the world what they’re made of. Learn more at hellobrightcrowns.com.

Media Contact
Tia Harley, Co-Founder
[email protected]
(404) 491-9637
Digital Press Kit: hellobrightcrowns.com/press
hellobrightcrowns.com

By Antoinette Stewart-Eneh, Special to California Black Media Partners

Word Count: 1058

Note: Client A, B & C, names are withheld for privacy; these accounts reflect my recollections as theirDoula.

Client A rocked her hips on a birthing ball, surrounded by pale wood and warm textiles in a softly lit Scandinavian-style office. I was her doula through a Southern California maternal health company combining nurse-led care, technology, and wraparound support.

She was a healthy Black woman in her thirties. Her baby girl was doing well; her partner took notes as we discussed labor and advocacy.

Then we turned to their chosen hospital. I knew it well—and remembered a phrase from another client’s experience: “Policy of Sovereignty.”

Client B had been told she needed a repeat cesarean as a precaution, though the reasoning was unclear. Her obstetrician, who performed her first cesarean two years earlier, had assured her throughout pregnancy that she was healthy, healed, and ready for a vaginal birth. We asked staff to review her chart, consult her obstetrician, and reconsider immediate surgery. Instead, they invoked the “Policy of Sovereignty.”

The physician on duty, we were told, had final authority, regardless of her established care plan. I asked whether an ultrasound or reassessing the baby’s position could offer clarity. Cesareans can be lifesaving. But were Client B’s history, informed consent, and circumstances guiding this decision—or was routine overriding individualized care? We kept asking for her obstetrician. Beneath every request was a deeper question: Was she being heard?

The Numbers Behind the Stories

Statistics arrive in clean columns. The experiences behind them do not.

Maternal mortality and pregnancy-related mortality use different time frames and methods and are not interchangeable. Finalized 2024 CDC data recorded 649 maternal deaths nationally. The overall rate was 17.9 deaths per 100,000 live births, but for non-Hispanic Black women it was 44.8, compared with 14.2 for White women and 12.1 for Hispanic women.

In California, Black birthing people experienced 56.5 pregnancy-related deaths per 100,000 live births during 2020–2022—3.8 times the White rate and four times the Asian rate.

As a doula serving Los Angeles and San Bernardino Counties, I see faces behind those numbers. I remember concerns raised softly, then firmly, then desperately. I am tired of watching Black families enter spaces meant to protect them, only to discover they must defend themselves while laboring, bleeding, trembling, or recovering.

Returning to Client A

Client A’s labor stretched nearly 48 hours. As her condition worsened, she, her partner, and I asked whether a cesarean should happen sooner. A provider questioned my place as a doula, then said she was next.

Six more hours passed.

She entered surgery visibly ill with a serious uterine infection, her baby malpositioned and stuck. Her partner later recalled the provider saying, “This baby would never have made it through the birth canal.”

Those words landed like a blow. Our urgency had been treated as ignorance. With Client B, we questioned why surgery was inevitable. With Client A, why it was delayed. Doula advocacy is not about one kind of birth. It is about informed consent, individualized care, and timely action. Hospital routine should never outweigh the person carrying the risk.

Survival Cannot Be the Standard

The Black maternal health crisis includes unequal care, untreated conditions, racial bias, delayed referrals, poor communication, and inadequate postpartum support. It is about birth plans respected only until a hospital becomes less busy and postpartum care that asks whether a mother survived, not whether she has what she needs to recover.

Survival cannot be the standard. Technology can support care, but it cannot replace human connection. An algorithm cannot detect fear in a patient’s eyes, and a mission statement alone cannot ensure adequate staffing or culturally responsive care.

The Story of Client C

Before I arrived, I heard the chaos through Client C’s phone. Staff struggled to locate her baby’s heartbeat on an external monitor as her fear and blood pressure rose. I pleaded for an internal electrode before surgery.

“There’s not enough time,” a nurse said.

“I would like to wait for my doula,” Client C called out.

But she was medicated, hurried through consent, and wheeled away while I listened.

In the operating room, after a shift change, another nurse placed an internal electrode and said, “The previous monitor wasn’t working.”

No one responded.

According to her father, the obstetrician avoided eye contact: “We need to move forward.”

Surgery may still have been necessary; that was not mine to determine. But if faulty equipment helped create the emergency, the family deserved acknowledgment and explanation—not silence. No family should have to wonder whether major surgery followed an unavoidable crisis or a machine failure no one recognized in time.

From Prevention to Accountability

After supporting nearly 100 families, I have learned that danger often begins before admission. I have urged clients to seek care—and heard why they feared returning: dismissed pain, harsh words, shame for asking questions.

Care cannot be holistic where Black families do not feel safe enough to speak or return. Representation matters, but providers of color cannot repair inequity alone. They need adequate staffing, mentorship, culturally responsive training, reliable equipment, and colleagues that are reflective of all the aforementioned. It’s not the Black providers job to care for just the Black patients, everyone should have the same goal.

The Momnibus Act, California’s Medi-Cal doula benefit, the Transforming Maternal Health Model and the Perinatal Equity Initiative require more than promises; they need sustained funding, reliable reimbursement and accountable implementation.

Birth should be sacred. Yet too many Black birthing people arrive carrying the burden of proving their pain is real. A doula can listen, educate, comfort, and advocate—but cannot repair a system that refuses to listen. The true measure of progress is what happens when a Black birthing person says, “Something is wrong.”

Are they believed? When equipment fails, is that failure acknowledged? Do families leave not merely alive, but safe, respected, supported, and whole?

Until those answers are consistently yes, California’s maternal health success story remains unfinished.

About the Author

Antoinette Stewart-Eneh is a mother of two, holistic maternal wellness advocate, and birth and postpartum doula who has supported families since 2019. She serves as program operations coordinator for Frontline Doulas, a volunteer client coordinator with the Joy in Birthing Foundation and a childbirth educator in South Los Angeles. She is studying to become a midwife and lactation educator.

By California Black Media Staff

Gov. Gavin Newsom signed legislation on Sept. 27 authored by Assemblymember Isaac Bryan (D-Ladera Heights) that strengthens consumer protections for Californians purchasing tickets to concerts, sporting events and other live entertainment.

Assembly Bill 1349 expands state regulation of original ticket sellers, resellers and online resale marketplaces. The law targets deceptive sales practices, ticket-buying software and speculative listings — tickets advertised for sale by sellers who do not possess them or have authorization to sell them.

“Buying a ticket shouldn’t come with hidden risks or unfair practices,” Newsom wrote on social media after signing the measure.

Under AB 1349, ticket sellers are prohibited from listing tickets before they have been officially released unless they have authorization or a legally enforceable right to receive them. Online marketplaces must also take reasonable steps to prevent speculative ticket sales on their platforms.

The law prohibits sellers from using bots, multiple accounts, email addresses or internet protocol addresses to circumvent ticket limits, presale restrictions, electronic queues and other controls. It also bans websites and advertisements designed to mislead buyers into believing they are purchasing tickets from an authorized seller, venue or event organizer.

Sellers who violate certain provisions and fail to provide a promised ticket may be held liable for twice the ticket’s contracted price. Buyers may also recover nonrefundable expenses incurred while attempting to attend an event, along with reasonable attorney’s fees and court costs.

Pastor Tecoy Porter Sr., president of the National Action Network’s Sacramento chapter, said the law establishes needed accountability.

“Buying a ticket to a concert or show shouldn’t mean entering a marketplace where the rules are stacked against you. This year, we worked with a coalition of consumers, civil rights advocates, community groups, and businesses to make AB 1349 stronger. Consumers deserve enforceable rules that protect them. We thank Assemblymember Bryan for his leadership, and we will keep working to make ticketing fair for every Californian.”

Jose L. Barrera, national vice president for the Far West Region of the League of United Latin American Citizens, also praised the measure.

“Californian families deserve certain protections when they buy tickets. Assemblymember Bryan listened to communities across California and delivered a bill that puts fans first. We thank him and Governor Newsom for making it law.”