National
Legacy of ‘First Lady of the Black Press’ Still Relevant Today
By Jazelle Hunt
NNPA Washington Correspondent
WASHINGTON (NNPA) – When James McGrath Morris set out to write his latest book, he didn’t know how timely it would be. When Eye on the Struggle: Ethel Payne, The First Lady of the Black Press hit shelves, Essence magazine had just released its Black Lives Matter issue. The Justice Department had closed its investigation into Trayvon Martin’s murder, with no charges. Mainstream media was scrambling to report on police violence and systemic racial ills, and Black Americans took much of this coverage to task for its racist, shallow, or negligent portrayals.
“We get these events filtered through the mainstream media. The mainstream media is still very White. I don’t mean they don’t hire people of color…it’s a perspective issue. The fact the media had a debate over the use of the word ‘terrorist’ [for Dylann Roof] in South Carolina is an indication,” said Morris.
“So what I found is that Ethel Payne’s story, her perspective, her form of journalism 50 years ago, still has relevance today. Because while we may have made leaps in terms of segregation…the dominant filter today remains a White-controlled media.”
Ethel Payne was poking holes in that filter at a time when the White majority fought against the tide of sustained agitation to secure civil and human rights for all. At the Chicago Defender, Payne was the eyes and ears of the Civil Rights Movement, reporting from its front lines in the Deep South, press conferences at the White House, and iconic rulings at the Supreme Court. In 1953, she became the third Black person to join the White House Press Corps, and was known for persistently prodding President Dwight D. Eisenhower on Jim Crow laws and desegregation efforts.
In the ’50s and ’60s, she jetted around the globe for international stories such as Black soldiers in Vietnam and the Nigerian Civil War, becoming the first Black woman to be a fulltime foreign correspondent. Yet, she always returned for on-the-ground coverage of moments that would become history, like the start of the Montgomery bus boycott and the desegregation of Little Rock, Ark.’s Central High School.
In 1972, Payne joined CBS and became the first Black woman commentator at a major network. In 2002, she was memorialized on a postage stamp.
With 40 years of tireless journalism and a legacy honed at a Black-owned newspaper, Payne earned her reputation as the “First Lady of the Black Press.”
“When The New York Times or The Washington Post would report on the passage of the Civil Rights Act of ‘64 or the Voting Rights Act of ‘65, the tone of the articles was that these were munificent gifts being given to a disenfranchised people,” Morris said.
“Whereas, if you opened up the Afro American or the Pittsburgh Courier or Chicago Defender, what you were seeing was coverage of the fact that these were victories, hard-won victories by people who laid their lives on the line. Nothing was being given. In fact, [Payne’s] coverage often highlighted the inadequacies of these pieces of legislation.”
In the early ‘70s, Ernest Green, a member of the Little Rock Nine, made a quip to Payne about what desegregation would do to such coverage.
“He said to her that the successes she and others made with the Civil Rights Movement were going to put the Black Press out of business. Obviously, that was too strong of a determination, because there’s still a viable Black press, but his bigger point was right in that the White media was going to raid the Black press for the best reporters, offer them jobs at much higher pay. And if you’re raising a family, what are you going to do?” Morris recounted.
“Many of the best reporters were lured away. But also, importantly, the economic basis of the Black press was undercut. Because when the White press refused to cover Black communities – high school tournaments, weddings, graduations, obituaries – there was an economic reason for [Black papers].”
Further, another side effect of integration and the Civil Rights Movement is that subsequent generations do not get a thorough and true education on Black history, or how the Movement happened. Payne said as much at a speaking engagement at her childhood church, [Greater] St. John A.ME. Church.
“She told her audience that, ours was a generation who laid their lives on the line to send our kids to college, but in doing so forgot to tell them our story. I like to expand that…we tend to teach the Civil Rights Movement focused on its leadership,” he said.
“Ethel Payne was part of the lesser-known group, she’s in the second, third tier of the Civil Rights Movement. I see younger people…waiting for somebody else to come and lead them. But these movements come from everyday people.”
Morris, a former journalist who also taught high school history for a decade, has been writing biographies and narrative nonfiction for many years. In searching for a new subject, he stumbled upon Payne’s name, which was unknown to him at the time. With a little more research, he was startled to find that few historians had taken a deep look at her contributions to journalism and the Civil Rights Movement.
“For me, [this book] has been the greatest experience of my life. It’s been really an honor, for me as an author, to do a book that matters,” Morris said. “I’ve had the privilege of learning that race really matters, but I didn’t know it because I was able to stay removed from it. That, to my mind, is Ethel Payne’s gift to me.”
Payne’s personal papers and journals are housed in Washington, D.C. with the Library of Congress’ Manuscript Division and the Moorland-Spingarn Research Center at Howard University, and in New York at the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture.
Eye on the Struggle: Ethel Payne, The First Lady of the Black Press is available at major book retailers. Signed copies can be purchased via www.jamesmcgrathmorris.com/eyeonstruggle.html.
“She went as a reporter to the front lines of the Civil Rights Movement…to report back to African Americans…to activate them,” Morris said. “The more people learn about Ethel Payne, I think they too will feel a sense of power.”
Activism
Oakland Post: Week of November 13 – 19, 2024
The printed Weekly Edition of the Oakland Post: Week of November 13 – 19, 2024
To enlarge your view of this issue, use the slider, magnifying glass icon or full page icon in the lower right corner of the browser window.
Activism
Oakland Post: Week of November 6 – 12, 2024
The printed Weekly Edition of the Oakland Post: Week of November 6 – 12, 2024
To enlarge your view of this issue, use the slider, magnifying glass icon or full page icon in the lower right corner of the browser window.
#NNPA BlackPress
OP-ED: The Illusion of Allyship. White Women, Your Yard Signs Mean Nothing to Me
NNPA NEWSWIRE – “The blue bracelets are something White women are wearing so others can see that they didn’t vote for Trump,” says Liberal Lisa from Oklahoma on X. Chile, bye. These bracelets are hollow symbols, empty gestures that mean nothing to me. An accessory to claim distance from Trump’s legacy is superficial comfort, while the choice to not stand with us in the voting booth is far more profound.
Political yard signs can symbolize intentions and allegiance. But this year, they’ve also symbolized betrayal. During this general election, Black women were led to believe that more White women would stand with us. Exit polls, however, told a different story. Despite overwhelming displays of support, more White women still chose to vote for the convicted felon, reality TV star, and rapist. White women answered the call but left us hanging at the polls.
A Familiar Disappointment
I live in DeKalb County, Georgia, and the abundance of Harris-Walz yard signs could’ve fooled me. But I’ve seen this before, back when Stacey Abrams ran for governor. White women showed up, put up signs, attended rallies, knocked on doors, and phone-banked. Yet, when it came time to vote, they let us down—not once but twice. I’ve been here for over 15 years, and if there’s one thing I know, it’s that political signs are symbols without weight.
In every election, I’ve talked with White women. Most aren’t the primary earners in their families and vote along party lines, aligning with the preferences of their fathers and husbands. These conversations reveal a reluctance to break from tradition, even when their votes affect women and certainly when their votes impact the lives of people who look like me.
The Illusion of Solidarity—Symbols Are Not Enough
On social media, I’m seeing White women posting pictures of blue bracelets to “prove” they didn’t vote for Trump. “The blue bracelets are something White women are wearing so others can see that they didn’t vote for Trump,” says Liberal Lisa from Oklahoma on X. Chile, bye. These bracelets are hollow symbols, empty gestures that mean nothing to me. An accessory to claim distance from Trump’s legacy is superficial comfort, while the choice to not stand with us in the voting booth is far more profound.
I’ve seen Black Lives Matter signs and black squares posted on Instagram to “prove” support for Black people, but we now know that was a lie, too. Will those same people who claimed Black lives mattered now take down their Harris-Walz signs and show their true selves?
Navigating these truths is a daily struggle for me—professionally and socially. White women often misuse their privilege, supporting us only when it’s convenient. Seeing overqualified Black women sabotaged or abandoned by White women at critical moments is a constant emotional challenge. It’s exhausting to live with this reality, especially when solidarity seems like something they pick up and discard at will.
One clever campaign ad from Harris-Walz that spoke directly to White women. “Your Vote, Your Choice” emphasized that their vote was private—independent of their household situation. Another was from Olivia Howell Dreizen, the “Vote Without Fear” campaign, which empowered women to consider the greater impact of their choices. But it seems many still couldn’t choose the roadmap to freedom—even when it was handed to them.
A Call for Action Beyond Words
White women, I want to believe you care, but actions speak louder than yard signs, bracelets, or Instagram posts. Show up in our communities, advocate in your workplaces, and stand up to dismantle the structures that uphold white supremacy. Only through real action will we know where you stand.
If you choose not to act, we see you—and we know exactly where you stand. Good luck these next four years.
Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of BlackPressUSA.com or the National Newspaper Publishers Association.
-
Alameda County3 weeks ago
Alameda County District Attorney Pamela Price Announces $7.5 Million Settlement Agreement with Walmart
-
Activism3 weeks ago
‘Jim Crow Was and Remains Real in Alameda County (and) It Is What We Are Challenging and Trying to Fix Every Day,’ Says D.A. Pamela Price
-
Bay Area3 weeks ago
In the City Attorney Race, Ryan Richardson Is Better for Oakland
-
Activism3 weeks ago
Oakland Post: Week of October 30 – November 5, 2024
-
Alameda County2 weeks ago
D.A. Price Charges Coliseum Flea Market Vendors in Organized Retail Theft Case
-
Activism3 weeks ago
‘Criminal Justice Reform Is the Signature Civil Rights Issue of Our Time,’ says D.A. Pamela Price
-
Activism3 weeks ago
“Two things can be true at once.” An Afro-Latina Voter Weighs in on Identity and Politics
-
Arts and Culture3 weeks ago
MacArthur Fellow Jericho Brown’s Poetry Reflects Contemporary Culture and Identity