By Rev. Stacy Swim

The history of the Black press in America is a sustained narrative of intellectual advocacy and service. Since 1827, Black media has served as the primary engine for self-definition and a scholarly defense against biased reporting. Among these pillars of resistance, the AFRO-American Newspaper (commonly known as the AFRO) stands as a profound testament to institutional strength and systemic transformation.

A foundation of liberation

The inception of the AFRO is rooted in the life of John Henry Murphy Sr., a man whose journey from enslavement to the Union Army shaped the paper’s mission. Murphy, who served as a sergeant in the United States Colored Troops (USCT), founded the paper in 1892. His transition from soldier to publisher was driven by a deep commitment to the intellectual responsibilities of freedom and the necessity of a central source of information for the mid-Atlantic and Midwest.

The paper was established to provide narrative justice: the essential right of marginalized groups to tell their own stories without distortion. This need remains as urgent today as it was at the end of slavery, as modern efforts continue to sanitize the horrors of the Black lived experience—from the Middle Passage to the present. By refusing to erase these truths, the publication holds American institutions to the ethical standard of “justice for all” and dismantles structural barriers to human rights.

Strategic service and community agency

Historically, the necessity of the AFRO was underscored by an era of systemic failure and state-sanctioned violence. During the lynching era, mainstream media was often complicit in racial terror, printing unverified accusations that incited mobs. In this climate, the Black press utilized data-driven activism—pioneered by figures like Ida B. Wells—to prove that such violence was an economic tool used to prevent Black competition and political participation.

Service was never a passive concept for the AFRO; it was an active, strategic pursuit. The publication did not simply report on the community; it organized it. Its leaders acted as community educators and social justice advocates who coordinated boycotts, spearheaded voter registration drives and fought for integrated schools. This commitment to service through literacy prepared the community for the serious scholarship required to navigate a society deprived of truth due to media bias and segregation.

Stacy M. Swimp is a licensed and ordained minister, a state-certified community health worker, and a degree candidate in institutional and organizational psychology. (Courtesy photo)

A call to survival

Today, the legacy of the AFRO is not just a matter of historical record, but a tool for survival for our children and our children’s children. By studying this vanguard, we empower a new generation to use their education to serve the common good and protect themselves against the erasure of their heritage. The AFRO remains a symbol of equity and agency—the power to influence one’s own destiny through the written word.

Call to action: preserving the vanguard

To ensure that this vital force for systemic transformation remains strong, we must invest in its longevity. Supporting the AFRO is a commitment to narrative justice. Your financial support empowers the AFRO to:

  • Continue investigative truth: Funding data-driven journalism that exposes modern structural barriers to equity.
  • Expand educational service: Providing literacy tools and historical archives that foster critical thinking and historical accuracy.
  • Empower the next generation: Sustaining a platform for Black intellectuals and journalists to serve the common good through their craft.

By funding the AFRO, you ensure that the vanguard of civil rights never falls silent. Join us in protecting the power of self-definition.

The opinions expressed in this commentary are those of the writer and not necessarily those of the AFRO.