OUR LOCAL COMMUNITY NEWS
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Never Forget
Never Forget Our History
For four centuries, Black people in America endured a system of slavery that sought to strip us of our humanity, our families, and our future. Even our children were treated as property, born into bondage with no protection and no recognition of their worth. This history is not distant — its impact still shapes the systems, institutions, and inequalities we confront today.
We speak this truth not to dwell in pain, but to honor our ancestors who survived it, resisted it, and built a legacy of resilience that lives through us. Forgetting what was done to our people is not an option. Memory is a form of power. It allows us to understand the roots of injustice, to challenge the myths that distort our past, and to protect our children from ever facing the horrors our ancestors endured.
At Ebony Info, remembering is part of our mission. We preserve our history so it cannot be rewritten. We tell our stories so they cannot be erased. We illuminate our present so future generations know exactly what was overcome — and what still must be confronted.
We must never forget where we come from. And we must never stop fighting for where we deserve to go.
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Be Aware of our enemies
Power Structures and Historical Divide-and-Control Tactics
Throughout American history, systems of white supremacy routinely used divide-and-control strategies to weaken Black political and social power. These systems elevated certain Black elites, institutions, or organizations while suppressing broader community advancement. Whether in politics, education, or economics, the goal was often the same: maintain control by creating internal hierarchies that limited unity and collective resistance.
This tactic wasn’t unique to one group — it was part of a broader pattern. Enslavers, segregationists, and policymakers repeatedly attempted to shape who was allowed proximity to power and who was kept out. Sometimes this meant creating roles for a small number of Black individuals who were expected to reinforce the status quo rather than challenge it. These practices helped white-dominated institutions maintain dominance while appearing inclusive.
The lesson is not about blaming individual Black people or groups. The lesson is about understanding that oppressive systems have always tried to manage Black progress — and understanding that tactic helps us recognize it when it shows up today.
For Ebony Info, this history matters because:
It shows how deeply systems can manipulate representation.
It reminds us to question who benefits from certain narratives.
It strengthens our commitment to independent Black-led storytelling.
Our goal is not to attack Black organizations. Our goal is to expose how larger systems have historically tried to control Black agency and to make sure our communities stay informed, unified, and rooted in truth.
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We have a past
A People of Scripture: Why Black America Identifies With the Children of Israel
(Ebony Info – Editorial Feature)
Across generations, Black Americans have drawn a profound connection between their own history and the story of the ancient Israelites — not because of mythmaking, but because the patterns are unmistakable. A people scattered, oppressed, targeted, and yet resilient beyond measure. A people whose survival defied every structure built to break them. A people whose spirit refused to die.
For centuries, the biblical narrative of the Israelites has served as a mirror for Black Americans — a reflection of struggle, perseverance, and divine endurance that resonates at a level beyond mere symbolism. It speaks to a people who have carried generational trauma and generational strength in equal measure.
While scholars debate ethnicity, origin, and lineage, Black Americans have long recognized that their lived experience aligns with the deeper themes, warnings, and “curses” described in scripture — experiences of:
forced displacement
generational oppression
systemic violence
cultural erasure
attempts to destroy family and identity
resilience rooted in faith and collective memory
These parallels are not coincidence. They are testimony. They are the language of a people whose story has always carried a spiritual dimension.
When Black communities say, “We see ourselves in the Israelites,” they are not merely making a historical claim — they are making a contextual claim, a cultural claim, and an experiential claim rooted in reality. The scriptures describe a people who would lose their names, their heritage, and their place — yet rise with a power the world could not extinguish.
Black Americans know that story intimately.
They have lived that story.
They have carried that story.
And for many, that story reflects not just resemblance, but identity in a deeper, ancestral sense — a recognition that the spiritual imprint of the Israelite experience rests heavily on the descendants of the enslaved.No other group in modern history aligns so closely with the depth, the intensity, and the generational scope of those scriptural descriptions. And while Ebony Info does not declare lineage as biological fact — our responsibility is to acknowledge what millions feel, know, and witness within themselves:
Black Americans see themselves in the biblical narrative because the narrative fits them in ways few can deny.
This is not about exclusion. It is about understanding why a historically oppressed people find truth in a story written thousands of years ago — because the echoes are too strong to ignore, and the ancestral memory runs too deep to silence.
In the end, the question is not whether Black Americans “are” the biblical Jews in a literal sense.
The deeper truth is this:Black America carries the spiritual weight, the historical suffering, and the prophetic resilience described in those ancient texts — and that reality binds them to the Israelite experience in a way that is powerful, undeniable, and uniquely their own.
Mayor Bruce Harrell
Our Take on Bruce.
Bruce Harrell: A Critical Examination of Leadership, Legacy, and Lost Opportunities
Bruce Harrell entered Seattle politics with the promise of being a bridge-builder—someone who could unite neighborhoods, restore confidence in City Hall, and deliver progress for a city fractured by racial inequity and economic displacement. But when his record is examined from the vantage point of Black Seattle—not political donors, not city insiders, not polished press releases—his leadership falls short of what our community needed and deserved.
This analysis is not personal. It is structural. It is about accountability. It is about the measurable impact of political power on the lives of the most marginalized. And when held to that standard, Harrell’s tenure and subsequent electoral defeat reveal patterns that should not be ignored.
A Leadership Style That Masked Division Instead of Addressing It
Seattle’s Black population has long been divided geographically and politically. The Central District—once the cultural anchor of Black Seattle—has been nearly erased by gentrification. South Seattle, while still diverse, lacks the political cohesion and institutional stability the CD once had. These fractures required a leader capable of healing, investing, and forging a unified Black agenda.
Harrell did not deliver that vision.
Despite years in City Hall, he offered no comprehensive plan to restore displaced families, protect Black homeowners, or preserve cultural institutions. What he did offer were symbolic gestures—ceremonial appearances, optimistic speeches, and promises steeped in vague language. But symbolism cannot repair the deep wounds of displacement.
While the community was steadily losing ground, Harrell remained cautious. That caution widened the gap between neighborhoods instead of closing it.
Failure to Address the Divide Between Black Christians and LGBTQ+ Residents
Harrell often attempted to stand in the middle of culture-war conflicts, hoping neutrality would earn him broad appeal. Instead, it fueled mistrust. His messaging, alliances, and strategic silence during moments of tension left both Black Christian leaders and LGBTQ+ advocates dissatisfied.
A true unifier does not avoid hard conversations—he leads them. Harrell frequently sidestepped them.
This avoidance contributed to a perception that he governed from a place of image management, not conviction. And those perceptions would later shape his political downfall.
Symbolism Without Substance: The Problem of Performative Leadership
Harrell mastered political performance. He knew how to take the stage, how to project confidence, and how to deliver polished statements. But performance is not policy.
One infamous example—the basketball stunt suggesting he might be bringing back the SuperSonics—became emblematic of his broader style: dramatic build-up with no meaningful result. It may have been a moment of showmanship, but for many residents facing displacement, violence, or economic instability, it symbolized a leader who prioritized optics over outcomes.
Gentrification and the Central District: The Unaddressed Crisis
The Central District, once nearly 80% Black, now hovers below 10%. That demographic collapse did not occur overnight. It unfolded across years when Harrell held power as a councilmember and later as mayor. The decline started with Mayor Norm Rice.
He never championed:
A Black land-trust strategy
A return-of-land initiative
Anti-displacement protections for legacy families
A cultural heritage zone for Black residents
Dedicated investment mechanisms to preserve Black-owned property and business
Seattle watched the heart of Black life disappear, and Harrell—who had both the authority and influence to intervene—failed to mount a structural response.
No major reparative framework was launched under his leadership.
That silence had consequences, including at the ballot box.
Why Bruce Harrell Lost to a Progressive White Liberal Woman
Understanding Harrell’s electoral loss requires facing a hard truth: his base was never firmly grounded, and his leadership never built the coalition he needed to win.
Several forces converged:
1. He Failed to Inspire Black Voters
Many Black voters felt Harrell talked about unity but rarely fought for structural equity. They saw neighborhoods disappear, schools under-resourced, and black businesses pushed out while he defended the city’s status quo. His identity alone could not carry him. Black voters wanted policy, not platitudes.
2. Progressive White Voters No Longer Saw Him as the “Safe Moderate”
Seattle’s dominant voting bloc—progressive white liberals—began to drift away from Harrell. They viewed him as too cautious on policing, too aligned with downtown interests, and too resistant to transformative reforms. In a city where progressive branding is political currency, Harrell looked outdated, too centrist, and too protective of institutional power.
His opponent, a progressive white liberal woman, spoke the language these voters wanted to hear:
police reform, climate commitments, tenant protections, and bold urban policy.
Harrell couldn’t compete with a message that was both cleaner and more aligned with the city’s ideological shift.
3. He Never Built Trust With Younger Voters
Seattle’s younger population—especially young Black residents—felt disconnected from Harrell. They saw him as part of the old political order. His moderate tone, careful speech, and emphasis on political safety clashed with a generation demanding direct action, transparency, and confrontation of structural racism.
By contrast, younger voters saw his opponent as closer to their values and more willing to challenge entrenched systems.
4. His Track Record Didn’t Match the City’s Crisis
Seattle is in the midst of overlapping emergencies:
Homelessness
Affordability collapse
Public safety concerns
Racial inequity
A disappearing Black community
Harrell’s record looked incremental, managerial, and defensive—not transformational. Voters aligned with the candidate who spoke with urgency about change.
5. He Underestimated the Power of Authentic Progressive Messaging
Harrell believed moderation would appeal to the “center,” a group that city politics now considers nearly extinct. Meanwhile, his opponent embraced unapologetic progressive rhetoric backed by clear policy commitments. That clarity—whether one agreed with it or not—won the race.
6. He Could Not Escape the Perception That He Represented Business Interests Over Community Interests
Fair or not, many voters interpreted Harrell as aligned with developers, downtown corporations, and conservative civic elites. Those perceptions eroded his credibility with constituencies he needed most.
Conclusion: A Legacy Defined by Missed Potential
Harrell’s electoral defeat mirrors the deeper issues that marked his leadership:
a lack of bold vision, a fragmented base, limited policy courage, and an overreliance on symbolism instead of structural action.
Representation matters—but representation alone is not liberation.
A Black leader who does not champion Black policy needs cannot rely on identity to carry him.
Seattle needs leaders who are:
visionary
unapologetically equitable
community-rooted
structurally transformative
Harrell had the platform. He had the opportunity. But he chose political caution over historic action. And when the city finally voted, it chose someone who promised the change he never fully embraced.
This is where we make a change.
Why Community Voices Must Shape the Laws That Govern ThemLawmaking is often treated as something distant — a process handled by elected officials, lobbyists, and committees behind closed doors. But this distance comes at a cost. When communities are not present in the rooms where legislation is drafted, debated, and finalized, their needs go unaddressed, their priorities are misunderstood, and their future is shaped without their input.The truth is simple: laws are written every day, with or without the people most affected by them.
When communities remain absent, the legislative landscape tilts toward those who are present — corporations, wealthy interest groups, and individuals with access and influence. This imbalance doesn’t happen by accident; it happens because legislative power rewards participation and punishes absence.The consequences are felt most sharply by communities that have historically been marginalized, underrepresented, or politically overlooked.The Cost of Absence Black {People : How Communities Lose When They Are Not Part of Lawmaking1. Policies get written about communities, instead of with themWhen lawmakers craft legislation without real engagement, they rely on stereotypes, assumptions, or second-hand information. This leads to policies that miss the reality on the ground:economic challenges are misdiagnosed,social issues are misunderstood,community priorities are pushed aside,and whole neighborhoods suffer from laws designed without their voice.
A community that is not involved becomes a community that is misunderstood — sometimes intentionally, sometimes through political neglect.2. Resources flow away from the people who need them mostBudgets, grants, public programs, and state investments are all shaped by legislative decisions. When underrepresented groups are not active in the drafting process:funding gets directed elsewhere,programs are built for different populations,and opportunities bypass communities that need support the most.
Legislators respond to pressure, to data, and to participation. Absence sends the message that a community is not a priority.3. Harmful laws go unchallengedEvery harmful policy began as a bill.
Every bill began with language someone wrote.If marginalized communities are not present to question the impact of a proposal, to identify unintended harm, or to challenge biased framing, those laws pass unopposed. And once damaging legislation enters the books, it can take decades — sometimes generations — to reverse.Absence allows systems of inequity to harden.4. Communities lose power while others gain itPower in a democracy is not distributed equally; it is accumulated by those who show up.Legislators listen to people who:send testimonypropose amendmentsprovide policy draftsattend hearingsbuild coalitionsand insist on being heard
Communities that don’t participate lose influence, while groups with resources and lobbyists become the default authors of the law.Why Community Participation Is Not Optional — It’s Survival1. Lived experience shapes better lawsLegislatures desperately need the insight of people who understand the impact of housing instability, underfunded education, environmental injustice, discriminatory systems, and economic barriers. Lived experience is policy expertise. When communities show up at the legislative level, they bring truth to the table — truth that can change the trajectory of an entire bill.2. Representation must go beyond votingVoting matters, but voting alone does not create policy.
The laws that define our lives — housing codes, public safety budgets, youth programs, business regulations, transportation infrastructure — are crafted in committee meetings where most people never set foot.Real power comes when communities:propose their own legislation,shape bill language,provide draft amendments,help lawmakers understand consequences,and build coalitions that can’t be ignored.
Civic participation is more than choosing leaders — it’s shaping what those leaders do.3. Legislative engagement builds generational strengthWhen a community learns the mechanics of the lawmaking process — how a bill works, how appropriations work, how committees operate — that knowledge becomes generational currency. It strengthens families, organizations, and future leaders.Communities that understand the lawmaking process are communities that cannot be easily sidelined.What Happens When Communities Step Into Legislative PowerWhen marginalized voices participate fully in lawmaking, everything changes:Public safety policies become more humane and effective.Education systems become more equitable.Housing protections strengthen.Economic opportunities expand.Healthcare becomes more accessible.Government becomes more accountable.And discrimination is confronted without apology.
The presence of underrepresented voices forces legislatures to reckon with reality instead of operating on comfortable myths.Participation brings balance where imbalance once ruled.Conclusion: The Path Forward Requires Engagement, Not PermissionCommunities do not need permission to help write laws. The legislative process is public by design — it belongs to the people, even if it has long been dominated by a select few.Absence has a cost.
Presence has power.When communities step into legislative spaces with clarity, discipline, and purpose, they reshape not only the laws but the future. They ensure their interests are not treated as an afterthought but as a priority. They create a legacy of empowerment, accountability, and self-determination that cannot be erased.Lawmaking is not a spectator sport — and the communities with the strongest voices are the ones shaping the future.