02/02/2026
It’s February, and I’m celebrating Black History Month in a United States that is rapidly changing around me.
Just this past November, I sat on a panel with brilliant, passionate women at Martin University in Indianapolis. We gathered in a space built on legacy — a space named for Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and St. Martin de Porres, a space created to serve Black and mixed‑race communities with dignity, education, and opportunity.
And now, that university is closed.
Martin Center College was the only Predominantly Black Institution of higher education in Indiana. It grew out of a community‑rooted nonprofit, carried the names of two giants of justice and racial harmony, and held generations of stories, dreams, and possibility. Whether the closure came from funding decisions made by this administration or from internal challenges with trustees, what I know for certain is this:
Three months ago, fifty women — doctors, congresswomen, teachers, doulas, therapists — gathered in that building to work, imagine, and build solutions for maternal health. Today, that building is quiet.
This is the kind of legacy being shaped in real time — institutions that served our communities disappearing, spaces of learning and liberation going silent.
But I refuse to let that silence be the final word.
Black History Month is not just about looking back. It’s about honoring the work, the struggle, the brilliance, and the resilience that continues right now. It’s about naming what’s being lost, and still choosing to build. It’s about refusing despair and choosing community, action, and light.
We continue the work.
We carry the legacy.
And our light will shine — no matter how the landscape shifts around us.
