Author: Carma Henry

    We are living in an Upside Down moment, and the danger is no longer metaphorical. You don’t need to have watched Stranger Things to recognize that the threat is real, not lurking in another dimension. It’s prowling in the White House, and no blinking lights are spelling out SOS.

    Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth, speaking within a worship context tied to military life, drew from the Psalms: “I pursued my enemies and overtook them, and did not turn back till they were consumed.” In that setting, the words do not remain safely in the past. They are re-entered as invocation, carried from ancient text into the present tense of state power.

     Coach Auriemma has won 12 national championships, been to 23 Final Fours and had 6 perfect seasons. That is just a small sample of his accomplishments. He is a coach, mentor and ardent supporter of women’s college basketball. He has won and will continue to win. Now, let’s get to what happened on Friday, April 3, 2026, to Geno Auriemma and the UConn women’s basketball team.

    Let’s be clear: Every President since World War II has tried to stretch his authority to act abroad. Whether we’re talking about Truman in Korea, Kennedy and Johnson in Vietnam, Nixon in Cambodia, George W. Bush in Iraq, or now Donald Trump in Iran, all abused presidential power. The President’s role as commander in chief has for a long time meant the power to deploy US forces wherever he judges “national security” to be in danger—and then challenge critics to reverse his decision.

    The U.S. government, under President Trump, has been bombing Iran since June 2025, bypassing Congress and the checks meant to restrain any president. In the latest wave of strikes, launched February 28 without a vote in Congress, a school was hit. At least 175 people were killed, mostly children.

Nunnie on the Sideline

       There is a question that must be asked plainly, boldly, and without apology: When Broward closes schools and opens the door to “affordable housing,” who exactly is it affordable for?

With heavy hearts but deep gratitude for a life well lived, we announce the passing of Levi Henry, Jr., Publisher Emeritus and Founder with his wife, Yvonne Henry (Deceased), of the Westside Gazette—a man whose vision gave voice to a people and whose purpose helped shape a community.

       Florida A&M University has long been a pipeline for excellence in music, performance, and culture—and that legacy is now shining on one of Disney’s most beloved characters.

       That conversation surfaced a truth many people have lived with but struggle to name: growth requires learning how to close the door behind you and walk through the door in front of you. Closing the door does not mean forgetting what happened. It means choosing not to carry it with you. For some, this looks like leaving a workplace where your contributions were consistently overlooked. For others, it may be stepping away from a role you outgrew but stayed in out of loyalty or fear. And sometimes, it means releasing the version of yourself that responded out of frustration instead of clarity. Some of what we carry happened to us. Some happened by us. Both deserve reflection. Neither should define us.