National Negro Press Association

In 1940, a pivotal moment in African American journalism history occurred when twenty leading Black publishers gathered in Chicago to create what would become one of the most influential organizations in the Black press. Originally founded as the National Negro Publishers Association, this groundbreaking coalition was the visionary work of John H. Sengstacke, the young publisher of the Chicago Defender, America's largest Black newspaper at the time.

John H. Sengstacke, part-owner and general manager of the Chicago Defender, 1942. Photo by Jack Delano, Library of Congress.

The organization's founding conference took place from February 29 through March 2, 1940, on the very day Sengstacke's uncle, Robert Sengstacke Abbott, passed away. Abbott had long dreamed of unifying Black publishers, and his nephew successfully realized this vision by bringing together publishers who shared a common goal: harmonizing their energies for the benefit of Negro journalism. The association represented a crucial response to the mainstream press's neglect of issues affecting African Americans.

However, the roots of organized Black journalism extend even further back in American history. In 1909, the earlier National Negro Press Association was established in Louisville, inspired by the Negro Business League. This earlier organization brought together African American editors and journalists to strengthen the influence of the Black press. The 1940 organization built upon this foundation, creating a more formal and enduring structure.

Newsboy selling the Chicago Defender, one of the leading Black newspapers, Chicago, Illinois, 1942. Photo by Jack Delano, Library of Congress.

Under Sengstacke's leadership as the first president, the association worked diligently to address problems within the industry and elevate the quality of African American journalism. The organization provided Black newspapers with the ability to share resources, coordinate coverage, and present a unified voice on critical issues affecting their communities nationwide. In 1956, reflecting its growth and broader mission, the association changed its name to the National Newspaper Publishers Association (NNPA).

The impact of this organization cannot be overstated. At a time when mainstream media largely ignored or misrepresented Black Americans, member newspapers provided essential coverage of civil rights struggles, community achievements, and the full spectrum of African American life. The Black Press believes that America can best lead the world away from racial antagonisms when it accords every person full human and legal rights, regardless of background.

The organization also established NNPA Media Services in 2000, providing advertising placement and press release distribution to member publications. This innovation helped newspapers remain financially viable. The NNPA Foundation supports the mission through pre-professional training programs, summer internships, and scholarships for aspiring journalists at undergraduate and graduate levels.

Today, the NNPA comprises more than 200 African American-owned newspapers across the United States and Virgin Islands, reaching approximately 20 million readers weekly. The organization has evolved with technology, launching the BlackPressUSA Network in 2001 to create a premier network of local Black community news and information portals. Under Dr. Benjamin F. Chavis Jr.'s leadership as president and CEO since 2014, the NNPA continues its historic mission of giving voice to the Black perspective on news, issues, and opinions while serving as both a historic institution and a contemporary change agent in American media landscape.

Me in 500 words: More Than Muscle

Photo: Drew Sanchez

Media day photos for High Point University Rowing Team September 3, 2025

 When The Body Quits The Mind Decides 

You would probably think I’m crazy if I told you that my skin once formed a heart. And if I told my ten-year-old self that I would be here today, I would be in complete awe and disbelief. Sports have been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. They were the one thing that made me feel like I fit in when everything else around me was constantly changing. I moved to different counties growing up, and I was always the new girl—the one who felt like she had something to prove.

The adrenaline and passion that sports gave me felt natural, almost like second nature. Because change was inevitable in my childhood, I learned to embrace it. I was impulsive in the best way, always wanting to try something new—roller skating one day, attempting to surf on a random summer afternoon the next. Looking back, it wasn’t just my body that pushed me forward. It was my mind. The curiosity, the drive, and the need to test my limits were always stronger than fear.

After losing my passion for track, I randomly tried out for the rowing team one day without knowing how much it would change my life. I fell in love with the quiet of the lake, the discipline of early mornings rewarded with a sunrise, and most importantly, the feeling of belonging. For the first time, I felt like I had a home—a second family. High school was the only time in my life when I wasn’t constantly moving, and rowing gave me something steady to hold onto. I found a powerful, welcoming community of women who pushed me to be better, both physically and mentally.

Growing up wasn’t easy. I was diagnosed with tinea versicolor at ten years old, a tropical skin condition that caused light patches on my skin that couldn’t produce melanin in the sun. It made me stand out in ways I didn’t want to. I was treated differently because I looked different, and it made doing what I loved even harder.

Those moments taught me resilience, patience, and self belief, shaping my perspective on struggle, strength, and growth, and reminding me that discomfort is often the beginning of real transformation.

But those struggles shaped me. They reminded me where I came from and gave me a story I want to share so others don’t feel as alone as I once did.

Through my athletic career, I’ve faced countless mental challenges. There are moments when my body feels empty, when there’s nothing left in the tank. But that’s when my mind steps in. My mind decides for the little girl who never felt like she belonged. It decides for the version of me who needed a purpose. Every day, I prove her wrong. Because when the body wants to quit, it’s always the mind that decides to keep going—and where the mind goes, the body will follow.