Why Black-Owned Media Matters:
We are defining ourselves for ourselves
“How does it feel to be a problem?” This simple, profound question posed by African American scholar W.E.B. DuBois loops in my mind often. He was referring to America’s compulsive need to characterize Black people as fundamentally flawed. With cunning, relentless efficiency, this nation has successfully created and promulgated one of the biggest lies ever told. Centuries of brutal laws, economic policies, cultural images, medical studies, media depictions reinforced a national narrative that justified white terror in service to white supremacy. Lazy, dumb, criminal, promiscuous. A problem.
To fix “the problem” first we have to recognize the lie. We are not now nor have we ever been the figment of white people’s imagination that has defined us to the world. Black womanist poet Audre Lorde said it best: “If I didn’t define myself, for myself I would be crunched into other people’s fantasies for me and eaten alive.”
This is how we solve the problem. Define ourselves, for ourselves by de-centering whiteness. This is why Black-owned media matters. And this is what fuels my work at WURD Radio, the Black talk station in Philadelphia my family has owned since 2002. In 2010 I took the helm as president and CEO when the station was struggling mightily. I was determined to figure out how to create a sustainable business model for what was then a hyper-local AM radio station that was frankly, starving, surviving on crumbs and a lot of grit and determination.
While WURD has expanded its reach over the last decade building our digital, social media, video and event footprint, the two-way talk radio platform is still the jewel in our crown. It is what differentiates us from everyone else in Philadelphia’s dynamic media ecosystem. We are in conversation with our community every day, all day long. We ask the people what’s happening in their neighborhoods, with their families, in their churches — and they answer. We are literally the voice of Philadelphia’s Black community. And as such, we have become the watchdog, pit bull and trusted companion.
And now we ask, how do we turn our strength into a superpower? We are exploring how to grow our audience, especially among millennials; how we expand our programming to better serve our community; and how do we continue to diversify our revenues so we can truly move from surviving to thriving. This is what I will be interrogating over the next several months as part of my John S. Knight Community Impact Fellowship at Stanford University. While WURD is centered on giving our community a platform to speak and be heard, my JSK Fellowship is focused on creating opportunities to listen more deeply so we can better understand and serve the needs of the people. From this I hope to gain insights into how our audiences consume information with the intent to broaden our video, audio and written storytelling capabilities. Protecting and preserving independent voices will be especially critical this year, 2022, when so much is under assault: women’s reproductive health, voting rights, critical race theory, equitable public education and access to quality health care during an elongated pandemic.
WURD is a part of a long lineage of Black media that has sought to “define ourselves, for ourselves” against unbelievable odds. I see our work as continuing in the tradition of Black media trailblazers like Ida B. Wells, who used the power of the pen to chronicle the pervasive practice of lynching Black bodies in the late 1800s. Her meticulous reporting and writing led to the publishing of “A Red Record”, which used mainstream newspapers to document white mob violence, finding that more than 10,000 African Americans had been lynched in the South between 1864 and 1894. The hope of Reconstruction where growing Black political power and self determination signaled possibility for the formerly enslaved was met with unimaginable brutality born out of white fear and resentment. Wells was following in the footsteps of Frederick Douglass who in 1847 launched his North Star newspaper, 18 years before slavery was officially abolished. He laid out his mission in the first issue of his newspaper: “It has long been our anxious wish to see, in this slave-holding, slave-trading, and negro-hating land, a printing-press and paper, permanently established, under the complete control and direction of the immediate victims of slavery and oppression.”
For us, by us: that was Frederick Douglass’s vision 175 years ago. WURD is the beneficiary of our ancestors’ courage, strength, tenacity and vision. For them, it wasn’t about being a journalist because they liked to write or tell stories. It was about using the power of the press to fight for the dignity and humanity of our people in the face of relentless terror.
Flash forward to 2020 when the whole world bore witness to that terror. The irrefutable evidence captured on video — over and over again — George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor — showed the world that maybe “the problem” wasn’t Black people after all. Perhaps it was, and always has been, a racist system that criminalized Blackness.
The response to the 2020 social justice protests was a barrage of pledges from corporate America, big banks, ad agencies, philanthropic organizations, and mainstream media. It was their “come to Jesus” moment where they vowed to do better — a 21st century version of the 19th century’s Reconstruction. Money, access and resources have been promised to Black businesses, organizations, institutions and yes, Black owned media. WURD has benefited from the so-called “racial reckoning.” This has come in the form of increased advertising, broader philanthropic support and collaborations with other media outlets. And after almost 30 years of running Black media organizations, 2020 was the first time where I was able to move from managing scarcity to imagining abundance.
It was that same year, at the height of the social justice protests, that URL Media was born. In one phone call with my now business partner and co-founder, Mitra Kalita, we set the intention to wade into the vast media landscape to empower Black and Brown owned media companies like WURD. On January 25, 2021 we launched URL Media (which stands for Uplift, Respect and Love), a network of high performing BIPOC owned media organizations that come together to share content, distribution and revenues. WURD is one of the 8 inaugural members. We have since grown to 10.
It is my ultimate win/win proposition. I am able to continue to serve my community — Black Philadelphia — authentically and fully by continuing to build WURD. And I’m able to broaden our reach and impact by collaborating with some of the most innovative Black and Brown media makers in the country. This past year we amplified each other’s work, built cross cultural bridges and shared revenues. We showcased the brilliance of our URL partners by featuring their work every month on “Meet the BIPOC Press” as part of the Laura Flanders Show that airs on over 280 public television stations around the nation. We experimented with revenue sharing models through advertising and philanthropic resources to help expand our reporting capacity. And we were able to establish a URL Apple News Channel, something unthinkable for WURD (and some of our other local partners) without the collective strength of this network. We hope to build on the momentum created in 2021 to make sure the resources pledged by corporate America almost two years ago continue to reach Black and Brown communities — and media.
My optimism, however, is tempered by a visceral cynicism. History tells us that this country will likely renege on its promises like it has so many times before. January 6th was a reminder that there are still many who are addicted to white power and privilege. But like before, Black media will be watching, chronicling — and shouting when necessary — to make sure our priorities, ideas and demands are front and center.
This is what inspires me. The possibility of translating WURD’s strength into a superpower. And with the support and resources of the JSK Fellowship, we are on firmer footing. By leaning into our two-way talk radio format and strengthening all of our other platforms, we center the lived experiences of those who have been historically marginalized, caricatured, criminalized, silenced or erased from the national narrative. We let their lives — and voices — speak the truth of our existence. It is our ultimate source of power and transformation.
