What should have been a professional evaluation became, in the eyes of many who sat in that chamber, something far more troubling, a public spectacle of humiliation. The public rebuke and relentless interrogation of Fort Lauderdale’s first Black female city manager, Rickelle Williams, struck a nerve deep within the spirit of this community.
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There are moments in American history that are not just remembered—they are felt. The Bloody Sunday on the Edmund Pettus Bridge is one of those moments.
It does not announce itself gently. It arrives in silence, – heavy, unfamiliar, and absolute. One moment, life feels anchored in presence, in voice, in laughter, in the small, ordinary exchanges that we mistake for permanence. And then, in a single breath, we are ushered into a new existence defined not by what is but by what is no longer there.
More than fifty years ago, The Temptations gave us a warning wrapped in rhythm with Ball of Confusion (That’s What the World Is Today). It was a song about chaos, contradiction, and a world that felt like it was spinning out of control.
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?
But too many of our Black political candidates and others as well are standing still, clinging to old maps, old messengers, and old mindsets while the people they claim to represent have already moved on.
It is the slow, steady erosion of the Black vote. And the question before us is simple: Will we be engaged… or will we be erased?
And for generations, the institutions that have delivered that information to our communities have been Black-owned media.
That is what unchecked power looks like. And we are living inside it.
EDITORIAL | Westside Gazette By Bobby R. Henry, Sr. Even in a Legislature where outcomes are often predictable, last week proved that public pressure still matters.…