Note from the Publisher | Our Roots. Our Roads. Our Future
Lately, I have been thinking about how much of life is spent building something we may not immediately see come to fruition. We raise children, nurture dreams, invest in relationships, and pour ourselves into work that sometimes demands more than we believe we have left to give. There are days when the road feels long, the responsibilities feel endless, and the finish line seems to move just as we approach it. Yet somehow, we find another reason to keep going.
As a mother, a student, a businesswoman, and the publisher of a newspaper founded by my family, I understand that journey more intimately than I sometimes care to admit. There are mornings when I am managing school schedules and family responsibilities while preparing interviews, reviewing articles, answering advertisers, and making decisions that affect the future of The Chronicle. Some days, I feel like I am wearing every hat in the building, including a few I never applied for. But through it all, I am reminded that purpose does not always arrive wrapped in convenience.
This year marks 40 years since The Chronicle began telling the stories of our communities in 1986. Four decades later, I have the privilege and responsibility of carrying that legacy forward while finding new ways to reach readers across Michigan. I often think about the sacrifices, determination, and faith it took to establish a newspaper dedicated to people whose accomplishments and concerns were not always reflected in mainstream coverage. Continuing that work has taught me that honoring our roots does not mean standing still; sometimes, it means having the courage to grow beyond what previous generations could have imagined.
That idea runs throughout this edition, beginning with the Spartan Roots program, which offers Michigan State University alumni an opportunity to establish deeper connections in Greater Lansing. We also meet entrepreneurs who remind us that businesses are often born from something deeply personal, including the desire to create joy, stability, and opportunity. In the story of young Jacob Baillie, we see how imagination and the encouragement of family can help a child discover strength through adversity. Each story speaks to a different kind of foundation, but all remind us that where we plant ourselves matters.
Our coverage of historically Black colleges and universities carries that message across generations. HBCU homecomings and royal courts are celebrations of culture, but they also represent a living history of educational opportunity, leadership, perseverance, and belonging. The Black educators featured in this edition understood that teaching was about far more than lessons delivered in a classroom. They were building futures, often under circumstances that required extraordinary courage and conviction.
I have also been reflecting on the importance of caring for the people who hold our communities together. Our conversation with Denise Octavia Smith about community health workers highlights something we too often overlook: the people who help others navigate difficult systems also need support, resources, and recognition. I see that same truth in the lives of parents, caregivers, educators, nonprofit leaders, and small-business owners who spend their days showing up for everyone else. Strength is admirable, but even strong people need somewhere to rest, someone to lean on, and a community willing to stand beside them.
Furthermore, as we approach another election, The Chronicle remains committed to making room for information, accountability, and differing perspectives. Readers will encounter political advertising, opinion pieces, and reporting throughout this edition, and each serves a distinct purpose. My hope is that you will examine the issues, ask thoughtful questions, and make decisions grounded in your own values and the needs of your community. The future belongs to all of us, and the responsibility of understanding what shapes it should never be taken lightly.
I am learning, even at this stage of my life, that growth rarely happens in a straight line. Sometimes we must revisit the past, change direction, release what no longer serves us, or simply trust that the work we are doing today will bear fruit tomorrow. I want my children to understand that success is not measured only by what we accomplish, but also by what we contribute and what we leave behind. More than anything, I want them to know that their stories matter, just as yours does.
As you turn these pages, I invite you to look for the connections between the stories rather than viewing each one in isolation. From the classrooms that shaped our history to the entrepreneurs shaping our neighborhoods, from college traditions to community health, we are witnessing the many ways people continue to build upon the foundations laid before them. Our roots remind us who we are, our roads reveal how far we have traveled, and our future challenges us to decide what kind of legacy we will leave. Thank you for allowing The Chronicle to remain part of that journey.
Until next time, keep growing, keep believing, and keep connecting.
In Solidarity
Yanice Y. Carter, MBA, CSSB
Publisher, The Chronicle News
Connecting Communities Since 1986
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