Charmaine Richardson, digital creator, entrepreneur, and founder of Opportunity Uplifted, shared her original poem at Coastal Today Magazine’s 5th Anniversary Gala on September 26, 2026. Enjoy an excerpt from her powerful reading.
Who will tell the story?
When the cameras don’t come, when the headlines don’t run, when the work gets done and the work gets won
when somebody serves but nobody sees, when somebody builds but nobody reads
when there’s no siren, no scandal, no sorrow in sight
Who tells the story when Black folks are doing all right?
When the child gets the degree, when the people plant the seed,
when the elders still stand, when the young folks have a plan.
when the joy fills the room, when we flourish, when we bloom,
WHO WILL TELL THE STORY?
Because we are more than breaking news.
More than mugshots. More than mourning. More than somebody else reporting our blues.
We are graduations and generations.
Front porches and foundations.
Sunday dinners. Saturday cleanups.
Businesses built with faith and a few bucks.
We are culture. We are community. We are memory. We are proof.
Somebody better write it down while we’re still here to tell the truth.
WHO WILL TELL THE STORY?
Robert Sengstacke Abbott.
Pen in his hand. Purpose in his chest.
The Chicago Defender did what Black press has always done best.
If they won’t print your truth—
BUILD YOUR OWN PRESS.
If they won’t make room—
MAKE YOUR OWN DESK.
If they tell your story like they know you best—
pick up the pen, write it again, and let the truth attest.
WHO WILL TELL THE STORY?
Clara McLaughlin.
Black woman. Bold vision.
Not trying to fit inside somebody else’s edition.
The Florida Georgia Star.
She knew being seen was never the whole dream—
because diversity without ownership can leave power behind the scenes.
WHO WILL TELL THE STORY?
Tina McElroy Ansa.
Southern pen. Southern home.
Writing Black life like Black life had always known
how to laugh, how to grieve, how to bend, how to breathe—
how to hold family secrets and still plant family trees.
WHO WILL TELL THE STORY?
Jabari Gibbs.
Asking the questions, checking the claim—
following the facts past the title and name.
Where policy gets personal, where decisions hit home—
where the meeting may end, but consequences roam.
Because loving your community doesn’t mean looking away.
Sometimes loving your community means asking anyway.
WHO WILL TELL THE STORY?
Turn the radio dial.
Sheri So Fine. Jabo—rest his soul.
Yolanda Neely. Kali Kold.
A song became memory. A voice became home.
A community heard itself and knew it wasn’t alone.
Sometimes the first way you know you belong—
is hearing somebody who sounds like you introduce the next song.
WHO WILL TELL THE STORY?
WE WILL.
Now let’s talk diversity.
Not the brochure kind. Not the bottom-line kind.
Not the kind you pull out when somebody asks who’s missing from the line.
Diversity ain’t decoration.
It ain’t faces in a frame.
It’s whose joy gets celebration.
It’s who gets called by name.
Who holds the camera. Who holds the pen.
Who gets called the expert. Who gets invited in.
Who gets the headline. Who gets the feature.
Who gets treated like neighbor— not outsider, issue, or creature.
WHO WILL TELL THE STORY?
WE WILL.
Because if Black pain makes the headline—
WHO WILL TELL THE STORY?
WE WILL.
Then Black joy deserves one too.
If you see us hurting—
WHO WILL TELL THE STORY?
WE WILL.
See us breaking through.
See the graduate. See the dreamer.
See the business open doors.
See the people feeding people.
See the ones who give us more.
See the reunion. See the laughter.
See the beauty we create.
Because Black joy ain’t an extra.
Black joy deserves the same weight.
The same ink. The same space.
The same care you give to grief when grief comes to this place.
WHO WILL TELL THE STORY?
WE WILL.
That is why community journalism matters.
Mainstream media may pull up when something shatters—
but community was already here.
Before the cameras. Before the fear.
We know the barber. We know the teacher.
We know the DJ and the preacher.
We know the grandmother feeding everybody’s child.
We know the quiet worker who never needed to be loud.
We know the small business that sponsored the team.
We know the organizer working behind the scene.
We know the folks who never make the evening news—
