By Dr. Frances “Toni” Murphy Draper
AFRO CEO and Publisher
As we close the pages on 2025, we do so clear-eyed about the moment we are living in and grounded in the responsibility we carry. Journalism, especially Black journalism, is not simply about recounting events. It is about memory, witness and insisting that what happens in our communities is neither disposable nor distortable.
This year, we wrote about what was happening to us and around us, locally and nationally, urgently and thoughtfully.
We wrote about symbols and stories—coins and monuments, museums and memory—and the quiet but consequential decisions about whose history is preserved and whose is questioned. We defended Black institutions, including the African American Museum of History and Culture, because history is not a luxury item. It is infrastructure.
We wrote about violence in places that should be sacred and safe: shootings on college campuses, in schools and in sanctuaries. We wrote not to sensationalize pain, but to refuse its normalization. We insisted that safety, dignity and peace are not unreasonable expectations.
We wrote about children, not only their protection but their preparation—about teaching financial literacy early, and about Black health, because freedom and wellness are inseparable. We examined disparities in maternal health, chronic disease, mental health, access to care and environmental conditions, understanding that health is a policy issue, an economic issue and a community issue.
We wrote about elders, honoring them and listening to them, and about Black cemeteries and the fight for recognition and dignity in death, because respect does not expire when life ends.
We wrote about Black businesses, lifting them up and naming economic realities plainly. Ownership still matters. Circulation of dollars still matters. Community economics remain community survival.
We wrote about culture and conduct—about joy and accountability—not to police Blackness, but to affirm that how we show up still carries meaning, especially for the next generation watching closely.
And yes, we wrote about sports, because community is also built through shared pride. We reflected on the longevity of LeBron James’ career, celebrated progress in sports where representation has lagged, including a milestone NHL Draft with 10 Black players selected. We marked defining cultural moments—from Beyoncé’s Album of the Year win at the Grammy Awards to Kendrick Lamar’s Super Bowl halftime performance—affirming that Black creativity continues to set the standard.
We wrote close to home, because Baltimore and Washington are not footnotes to the national story; they are often where it becomes real first. We carefully covered Baltimore City and Washington, D.C. government, including the leadership of Brandon M. Scott and Muriel Bowser, as well as the work of Gov. Wes Moore, the only sitting Black governor in the nation.
We reported honestly on public safety while acknowledging progress. Baltimore’s crime rates moved in the right direction this year, reminding us that accountability, community effort and smart policy matter.
We covered hundreds of social, civic, faith-based and community events and organizations, because everyday people doing faithful work rarely make headlines, yet they are the backbone of our cities. And we did not only report on our community—we gathered with it.
We paraded at our annual High Tea, recognized veterans and Department of Public Works employees, convened Who’s Who in Black Baltimore, hosted our Juneteenth Breakfast, Salute to Veterans and Black Business Matters Expo events and marked moments that strengthened community ties.
We also celebrated legacy in distinctive ways, producing a 24-page commemorative ebook honoring the 150th running of the Preakness Stakes and the inaugural Preakness Festival, capturing not only a historic sporting moment, but Baltimore’s place within it.
2025 was a consequential year for journalism and the free press, particularly for the Black Press, as independence, truth and trust were tested in new and familiar ways.
We wrote about voting rights under renewed attack, about the rollback of diversity, equity and inclusion, and about how a three-letter acronym was deliberately turned into a four-letter word. We wrote about the damage done when leadership traffics in cruelty, especially toward women, and how language from the top shapes culture below.
We encountered a moment that crystallized much of this: a potential advertiser suggested that our name—standing for Black truth and self-definition for more than a century—might need to change to earn their support. We declined. Survival without integrity is not sustainability.
We also paused to mark loss, reflecting on elders like Viola Fletcher, Assata Shakur and H. Rap Brown. We also took time to honor the passing of cultural icons such as Angie Stone and Sly Stone.
Throughout the year, we shared glimpses from our extensive archives, work continuing through AFRO Charities, which is preserving and expanding access to irreplaceable Black history. Preservation is resistance.
We also continued to build forward technologically. We expanded our digital footprint across Facebook, Instagram, X, LinkedIn, YouTube, TikTok, Nextdoor, and Apple News. We extended video coverage, deepened audio storytelling through podcasts such as The Chicken Boxx, and for many stories on AFRO.com, readers can now listen as well as read.
As we embrace responsible uses of artificial intelligence, we are enhancing storytelling, accessibility, archiving, audience engagement and efficiency—without compromising accuracy or trust. Technology is not replacing journalism at the AFRO, it is strengthening it.
That work did not go unnoticed. This year, our journalists, photographers, editors, designers and digital teams earned multiple local and national journalism awards, and the AFRO was named among the nation’s top Black news outlets on Feedspot’s curated lists—affirmation of the excellence our staff brings to this work every day.
Above all, we are grateful to God. We have come this far by faith, sustained by purpose and perseverance.
None of this happens without people.
We thank our writers, columnists, photographers, editors, designers, social media, video, digital, sales, business and administrative teams; our board members and shareholders; our advertisers and sponsors; and our partners, including the National Newspaper Publishers Association and Word In Black.
And to our readers and subscribers, thank you. You are not passive consumers. You are partners.
2025 marked our 133rd year of publication, and our 133 for 133 campaign reflects that milestone—133 years of uninterrupted Black-owned journalism—and what it will take to sustain this work for generations to come. It is not about nostalgia. It is about necessity.
If this year affirmed anything, it is that journalism still matters. Local journalism matters. Black journalism matters.
Still here. Still writing. Still standing.