A Message From The Publisher
But you must see to it that this right of yours does not become a stumbling block for those who are weak.
1 Corinthians 8:9
By Bobby R. Henry, Sr.
As summer comes to a chaotic and blistering end scared and marked by hurricanes churning in the Atlantic, wildfires tearing through island communities, and floods swallowing entire neighborhoods we must face a sobering question: What kind of school year are we sending our children into?
With backpacks slung over their shoulders and minds eager whether they show it or not our children are heading into classrooms that reflect a nation in deep turmoil. The storms outside mirror the unrest within.
Our federal government is tangled in dysfunction. State legislatures across the country continue to wage war on truth by banning books, censoring history, and marginalizing the voices and experiences of Black and brown children. And as immigration debates rage on, children from migrant families, many of whom share our skin color and our struggle, will walk into classrooms wondering if they belong at all. Will they be met with understanding and support, or with suspicion and cold policy?
Let’s speak plainly: racism hasn’t taken a summer break.
In fact, as we step into this school year, it’s becoming more institutionalized, more systemic. We are witnessing an education system stretched thinly and, at times, weaponized against our children. Policies targeting “divisive concepts” are really about silencing the truth of our existence our history, our pain, our brilliance.
And yet, there’s more at stake.
With the cost-of-living soaring, many families are sending children to school not just for learning, but for food that sometimes their only dependable meal of the day. Will the lunchroom have what it needs? Or will budget cuts and bureaucratic neglect mean more hungry mouths, more empty stomachs, more distracted minds?
And what about mental health? Our children are returning from a summer of displacement physically for some, emotionally for many. Fires in the Caribbean have not only displaced homes, but hope. Hurricanes don’t just destroy buildings, they fracture spirits. Are our schools prepared to recognize and support the trauma our youth carry?
This is no ordinary back-to-school season.
We, as Black publishers, Black leaders, and Black communities, must demand answers and accountability. We must stand ready to uplift and advocate for inclusive curriculum, for culturally competent teachers, for mental health support, and for basic human dignity.
Let us also remember the sacred role of our village. The schools may not have all the answers—but we have each other. Churches, nonprofits, barbershops, mosques, sororities, fraternities—we all have a role to play in buffering the storm for our children. If the system won’t teach them the truth, we will. If the system won’t feed them, we must.
This year, our children are walking into a storms of political, social, environmental. But storms reveal strength. And we’ve always known how to weather them.
Let us be the umbrella, the anchor, and the lightning rod.
Because come what may, our children will rise.
