Westchester County Board of Legislators Honors Caribbean American Excellence Through Service and Leadership
WHITE PLAINS, N.Y. — The Westchester County Board of Legislators celebrated Caribbean American Heritage Month, Monday, June 16th, by honoring two distinguished community leaders whose decades of service have left an indelible mark on Westchester County. Judge Lyndon Williams and Coach Rupert “Ted” Bitter were recognized with proclamations for their outstanding contributions to public service, mentorship, education, and community empowerment
“This month, we celebrate the rich traditions and impact of Caribbean Americans, who have shaped our communities in countless ways. Judge Lyndon Williams and Coach Ted Bitter exemplify this proud legacy through lives dedicated to service and leadership. Judge Williams built an extraordinary career serving the people of Westchester as a 12-year member of the Board of Legislators, Mount Vernon City Council President, respected attorney, and City Court Judge. Likewise, Coach Ted’s journey reflects a lifetime of commitment to public duty, from his military service in Vietnam to decades of mentoring young athletes and building community with the Westchester Striders and the BeanRunner Café. Through their accomplishments and commitment to others, these remarkable men have left an enduring mark on Westchester,” said Chairman Vedat Gashi (D–New Castle, Ossining, Somers, Yorktown), who convened the ceremony.
Lyndon Williams, who was born in Georgetown, Guyana, immigrated to the United States as a teenager. He served on the Mount Vernon City Council and the Westchester County Board of Legislators before becoming a Mount Vernon City Court Judge. Williams dedicated his career to advancing opportunities for residents throughout the county.
“Judge Lyndon Williams’s journey from Georgetown, Guyana to a distinguished career in law, public service, and the judiciary exemplifies the values of hard work, integrity, and community leadership. Through decades of service, he has dedicated himself to expanding opportunities for others, particularly young people, leaving a lasting impact on Westchester County and beyond. His story reflects the profound contributions Caribbean Americans continue to make in strengthening our communities and our nation,” Legislator Tyrae Woodson-Samuels (D–Mount Vernon) shared with Black Westchester.
Coach Rupert “Ted” Bitter, originally from Kingston, Jamaica, came to the United States at age 16 and volunteered to serve his adopted country in the U.S. Army, including combat service in Vietnam. Following a successful career in banking, he devoted himself to mentoring young athletes and helping shape the lives of countless young people through sports and community engagement.
“Ted Bitter represents the very best of Caribbean heritage in Westchester: service, perseverance, cultural pride, and a deep commitment to community. As a veteran, coach, mentor, small business owner, and friend, Ted has spent his life lifting others up—especially young people—and helping create spaces where culture, music, discipline, and belonging can thrive. I am proud to recognize him during Caribbean Heritage Month and grateful for all he has given to Peekskill and to Westchester County,” said Legislator Colin D. Smith (D–Cortlandt, Peekskill, Yorktown).
During the celebration, both honorees reflected on the importance of service, leadership, and giving back to the community. Williams encouraged young people to become active participants in shaping their future, while Bitter emphasized the values that guided his life’s journey: dedication, determination, discipline, and desire. Their stories served as powerful reminders of the contributions Caribbean Americans continue to make to Westchester County and beyond.
The ceremony highlighted not only the accomplishments of two exceptional individuals but also the rich cultural heritage, resilience, and commitment to excellence that Caribbean Americans have brought to communities throughout Westchester County for generations. Family members, friends, elected officials, and community leaders joined in celebrating the honorees and their lasting legacies of service.
On the Sunday, June 14th episode of Black Westchester Presents People Before Politics Radio, Mount Vernon City School District Superintendent Dr. DeMario Strickland joins the show to discuss the upcoming June 16th Budget Revote and address several issues and concerns important to students, parents, educators, taxpayers, and the broader Mount Vernon community.
During the conversation, Dr. Strickland explained what’s at stake in the budget revote, discussed the district’s financial priorities, and answered questions regarding the impact the proposed budget could have on educational programs, staffing, student services, and the future of the school district. He will also address concerns raised by community members and provide insight into the district’s ongoing efforts to improve educational outcomes and strengthen public confidence in the Mount Vernon City School District.
Just in case you missed the interview live, you can view it in its entirety below…
The Dog Lives Forever: Yonkers Honors DMX With Street Renaming Ceremony
Yonkers Mayor Mike Spano and the City of Yonkers honored the life and legacy of Yonkers native Earl “DMX” Simmons with the ceremonial renaming of the corner of School Street and Brook Street as “Earl ‘DMX’ Simmons Way,” Friday, June 12th. Mayor Spano was joined by NYS Senate Majority Leader Andrea Stewart-Cousins, Westchester County Executive Ken Jenkins, Yonkers Councilwoman Tasha Diaz, who has represented District 3, who sponsored and spearheaded the Street Renaming, and the rest of the Yonkers City Council, Desiree Lindstrom and Sasha Simmons, the DMX Estate co-administrators, and Darrin “Dee” & Joaquin “Waah” Dean, Ruff Ryders co-founders. City of Yonkers Deputy Director of Communications Lisa Reyes was the emcee of the presser.
“Today was a great day for the City of Yonkers, especially the School Street Community. With today’s street renaming, we were able to make sure DMX’s name is embedded into the fabric of Yonkers,” Councilwoman Diaz shared with Black Westchester.
“We are remembering our neighbor DMX, who never lost his connection to this community. Can’t say that about everybody else that’s come through here, but you can say that about Earl, right? Always found a way to come back home. In 2016, he returned home to host the first Hip-Hop concert in Westchester County, bringing people together through music and celebrating a culture that has shaped generations. I had the good fortune of knowing DMX when he was, like I said, when he came back here and he volunteered. That’s something that I’ll never forget…” Mayor Mike Spano shared with the crowd.
Throughout the ceremony, speakers reflected on X’s impact not only as an artist but as a father, friend, philanthropist, and man of faith. Known for his raw honesty and emotional vulnerability, DMX’s music resonated with fans who saw their own pain, challenges, and triumphs reflected in his lyrics. His influence extended far beyond Hip-Hop, touching people from all walks of life who connected with his message of perseverance, redemption, and hope.
Ruff Ryders founders Dee and Waah Dean spoke about DMX’s enduring legacy and the profound impact he had on the culture. Together, they helped build one of the most influential movements in Hip-Hop history, introducing the world to an artist whose unmistakable voice, electrifying performances, and authentic storytelling would forever change the genre. More than two decades after his rise to fame, DMX’s music continues to inspire new generations of fans around the globe.
“Me and my family, we’ve been here from day one with DMX, working with him unconditionally. Today is more than a street naming. Today is a celebration of a Son of Yonkers whose voice, spirit, and legacy continue to inspire people around the world. Earl DMX Simmons never forgot where he came from. These streets shaped him, challenged him, and ultimately helped create one of the most authentic and influential artists hip hop has ever known. Through his music, his faith, and his struggle, X gave voice to those who felt unheard and hope to those who felt forgotten. For the Ruff Ryders, X was more than an artist. He was our brother, our leader, in the heart of the movement that changed music culture forever. His impact extended far beyond records and awards. He touched lives through his honesty, his generosity, and his unwavering love for his community. By renaming his street in the honor of DMX, we ensure that future generations would know his story…” Waah shared with the crowd.
“I want to thank everybody for coming out. I mainly want to thank Mike Spano, the mayor. Appreciate you very much. And the entire council for making this happen. I especially want to thank Tasha Diaz, the councilwoman responsible for making this happen cuz you made this happen. We know you made this happen. So we appreciate you, and a big thanks to the council whip, Deana, who is the main one who helped me make this happen. So, I want to thank Deana. And I want to thank X’s fiancée, Desiree, the entire Ruff Rider family, and all his close friends and loved ones, his children, and everybody that believed in him and the whole community, because anybody that knew X, knew he was one of a kind,” Dee added.
As the street sign bearing his name was unveiled, the moment served as a reminder that while Earl Simmons may have become a global icon, he will always be Yonkers’ favorite son. Now, every person who passes through the intersection of School Street and Brook Street will be reminded of the life and legacy of a man who proudly carried the city on his back and whose influence continues to be felt long after his passing. For Yonkers, “Earl ‘DMX’ Simmons Way” is more than a street name—it’s a permanent tribute to a legend who made sure the world knew exactly where he came from!
A psychiatrist and minister on why Black men carry their health alone, and the three questions that change it.
Patient stories are composites; identifying details have been changed.
Sunday morning service is in full swing. John is in his usual seat. Head bowed, eyes closed, hands raised, body swaying. He feels different this morning, less tense and less tight than he did at home. His blood pressure on waking was the usual, 167/98. And, as usual, he was dragging around, feeling anxious and downcast for no reason. But now in church, he feels much better, more alert, energized by the praise and worship. He senses that his prayer is finally being answered and that healing is happening for him. What the worshipper cannot see is the rest of it. John, a 45-year-old entrepreneur, has been putting off medication and following up with any provider for months, preferring to tough it out and trust that the Lord will heal his high blood pressure.
But when he got home that afternoon, he began feeling lousy again. Sad. Tired. Anxious. Withdrawn. His wife took his blood pressure: 164/97. When she asked him about getting help, he gave his usual answer. “I’ll think about it.”
John is by no means alone. In my practice, I see lots of Black men who fit this profile. They have a medical condition or a mental health issue that is inadequately addressed or treated. These men are not negligent or cavalier in my view. Quite the opposite. For the most part, they are acutely aware of their vulnerability but find it challenging to make sense of and override generations of social messaging, cultural conditioning, and historical mistreatment. It does not surprise me, as a Black male psychiatrist, ordained minister, and mental performance consultant to professional sports teams, that men like John choose self-protection and autonomy first, even when it potentially compromises their clinical care.
There is nothing inherently wrong with the choices these men make, and they are not making them alone. The systems around them shape the decision, too. I have spoken to plenty of men like John who lean on prayer the way they were taught to, in places of worship that were, for generations, the one place in their lives that never turned them away. That matters. A man does not choose faith over medicine in a vacuum. He chooses the institution that has always received him over the ones that have not. Others have told me of their disdain for mental health services after a negative therapy experience that had no cultural fit, or how they avoid medical care because of treatment atrocities and disparities, current and historical. And there is real value in the religious practice itself. A 2022 study published in the Journal of the American Heart Association found that Black Americans with higher levels of religious involvement tended to have better cardiovascular health behaviors, including diet, smoking, and blood pressure. Other research suggests that spiritual practice can also ease anxiety and depression, though that is a separate body of work from the heart findings.
So when men like John go with one of these systems, or none of them, here is what they may be leaving on the table.
What the church is doing for John
Faith is doing real work in that sanctuary, and I would never tell him otherwise. The music, the room full of people moving together, the permission to close his eyes and stop performing for a couple of hours, his body reads all of it. His shoulders come down. His breathing settles. The dread that trailed him out of the house in the morning loosens its grip. None of that is imaginary. Hope has a chemistry, and when a man believes healing is on the way, his body can begin behaving as though it is.
The trouble shows up later, in the parking lot, when the feeling becomes the whole plan. John walked out lighter, but the disease was still at work the whole time, his pressure still sitting at 164 over 97. The relief he felt was true, but so was the number. Nobody had ever shown him how to address both.
Getting a man to want care is half the work. The other half is whether the care is there when he turns to look for it.
I have seen faith carry men through diagnoses that no medicine could comfort, hold a man steady through a prognosis no prescription could soften, and give him a reason to keep showing up. I have also seen the same faith become the reason a man puts off the appointment that would have caught something while it was still small. It is the same asset working two very different ways, and what separates them is usually whether anyone ever gave the man permission to pray and follow up in the same week.
The story under the story
Beneath the faith, there is a quieter layer, and in my experience, it does more damage than it gets blamed for. It is the story a man tells himself about what his body is even capable of. Medicine has a clumsy pair of words for this: placebo and nocebo, the idea that belief alone can move real things like dopamine, pain, blood pressure, and immune responses. We like to talk about the hopeful direction, but I worry more about the other one. When a man has heard his whole life that stress is just part of being a Black man, and he repeats it often enough, it stops sounding like a complaint and starts working like an instruction. And the body, which has been listening for months and years, tends to oblige.
The athletes I work with taught me how literal this can be. Everything physical they do sits on top of a belief about who they are, and the body delivers, more often than not, what the identity expects of it. So when a man has spent forty-five years braced for endurance, with recovery never once offered to him as something he was allowed to expect, that bracing can become its own kind of ceiling. The shift I am after with men like John is small to say and enormous to live. It is moving from just getting ready for the next blow to genuinely expecting to get better.
Why the distrust makes sense
Then there is medicine, which John keeps at arm’s length, and his reasons are good. Tuskegee is not ancient history to a man whose grandfather was alive for it, and the distrust it seeded is not a relic either. Hard to imagine but Black patients are still undertreated for pain today and given less medication than white patients for the same injuries— a pattern researchers have traced in part to false beliefs about biological differences that some medical trainees still hold. So, when John thinks of the cousin who got waved out of an emergency room, or the one therapist he tried who had clearly never sat with anyone who looked like him, he is not reaching back into history but describing the present reality. The numbers support his instinct. Researchers estimate that only about one in four Black men seek treatment when they are dealing with anxiety or depression. His guardedness is earned.
The hard part is that the very thing protecting him, keeping the system at a distance, is also what keeps him from the version of that system that has finally learned to treat him well. Culturally competent, integrated care exists now, where a man can find it and afford it.
The men who need it most are often the last through its door.
Three rooms that don’t talk
Here is the piece that troubles me most, because it is structural— and nobody built it on purpose. I like to call it the three rooms do not talk to each other. John’s pastor has no idea what his blood pressure is. His doctor has no idea what he prays about on Sunday. And the therapist, if he ever saw one, never met either of the other two. So John does what most of us do when the rooms are kept separate. He brings a different version of himself into each one: the faithful man on Sunday, the capable provider at work, the one who never lets a doctor see him sweat. We have a name for the figure he is performing. The Strong Black Man has saved a great many lives and quietly cost a great many, too.
The cost is rarely dramatic.
It looks like a diagnosis arriving a few years late, a depression nobody ever said out loud, a heart that had been working too hard for too long before anyone thought to check.
How it usually goes
The John I am describing is a composite, details changed and privacy protected, but the arc is one I have watched play out more times than I can count, and it tends to move in an order that surprises people.
Faith moved first. It did not move by getting smaller. It moved when a deacon John trusted, a man who had been through his own version of it, told him plainly that asking for help was one of the truest uses of his faith, never a betrayal of it. That gave John permission to be honest in his own body for the first time in years.
The mindset shifted next, and more slowly. We spent real time on the story he was telling himself. The day it cracked open was the day he stopped describing his blood pressure as a sentence he was serving and started calling it something that could change.
Medicine came last, which is almost always the order. By the time John let me reconnect him to his PCP, he had already done the harder work. The medication brought the pressure down. The harder thing, the low mood that had trailed him for years, eased more slowly, but it eased. What he noticed first was not the number on the cuff. It was that he had stopped bracing, that the mornings he used to dread were much lighter–and he liked that new feeling a lot.
When yes isn’t enough
I want to be honest about this—not every man who gets to yes finds a door. I have watched men do the hard inside work, decide they were ready to be helped, and then run into a six-month waitlist, a provider an hour and a half away, a practice that took everyone’s insurance but theirs. I have come to understand that wanting care is only half of it. Whether the care is actually there when a man turns to look for it is the other half, and for too many men it still is not.
Three questions to ask yourself
If you are a man reading this, or you love one, here are three questions. I would rather you sit with them than rush them.
The first is about your faith. What do I really believe is possible for my body? Not what I hope for out loud. What I expect when no one is listening.
The second is about our story. What am I telling myself about needing help, and where did I learn it? This one usually has a face attached, a father, a coach, a pulpit.
The last is the simplest but might be the hardest. When did I last let a professional help me at all, and what would it take to do it once more?
None of these are accusations. For a lot of Black men, asking them out loud is already an act of courage, because needing support is the one thing many of us were raised to treat as a liability. Myself included.
June is Men’s Health Month, which feels like the right time to say this plainly. The men I have watched get well did not out-hustle their conditions. They stopped keeping faith, mindset, and medicine in separate rooms. The faith gave them a reason to want to be here for it. The work on their own minds turned that wanting into something they expected. And medicine, once they let it in, gave the expectation something to stand on. Pull any one of the three, and the other two start to wobble.
None of this is as simple as deciding to. So if you are a man who gets to yes and does not know where to turn, one place to start is findahealthcenter.hrsa.gov, which lists community health centers that serve patients regardless of ability to pay. It is a door. The rest of the work, building enough of these doors that no man has to drive ninety minutes to one, belongs to all of us. I have seen it happen. Black men everywhere deserve all three, and they deserve to stop being asked to choose. What John noticed first was that he had set the weight down. That is the plain, unfamiliar relief I want for every man still carrying it: the chance to do the same.
Derek H. Suite, M.D., is a board-certified psychiatrist who specializes in sports psychiatry and consults with major sports franchises in basketball, football, hockey, and soccer. Dr. Suite is the founder of Full Circle Health, host of The SuiteSpot podcast, and is currently at work on a book titled Sleep as Performance Medicine. His clinical work integrates mindfulness, sleep medicine, and performance psychiatry.
Dr. Suite is a regular contributor to Black Westchester Magazine.
Cities Of Mt Vernon, Yonkers, and New Rochelle Among Communities Cited in Lawsuit Challenging County Surveillance Cameras
A newly filed class-action lawsuit is challenging what plaintiffs describe as one of the largest and most invasive vehicle surveillance systems in the nation, alleging that the Westchester County Police Department has spent years collecting and storing detailed information on millions of drivers without legislative authorization or adequate privacy protections.
The lawsuit, filed Tuesday, June 9th, in Westchester County Supreme Court, names Westchester County, the Westchester County Department of Public Safety, Commissioner Terrance Raynor, and Chief James Luciano as defendants. The plaintiffs contend that the County’s extensive Automated License Plate Reader (ALPR) network operates as a “dragnet surveillance system” that violates the privacy rights of residents and motorists who travel throughout Westchester County. (see lawsuit in its entirety below)
According to the complaint, the system consists of hundreds of cameras strategically placed throughout the county that record every passing vehicle 24 hours a day, seven days a week. The technology allegedly captures license plate numbers, vehicle characteristics, travel locations, dates and times, and in some cases may even record images of drivers and passengers.
The lawsuit claims the surveillance program has grown into one of the largest vehicle tracking systems in the United States. Plaintiffs allege that in 2024 alone, the network collected more than 264 million vehicle records, with more than 99 percent of those records having no connection to criminal investigations.
At the heart of the lawsuit is the argument that Westchester County is collecting and storing detailed travel histories of law-abiding residents for years at a time. The complaint alleges that the County retains the information in a searchable database for at least two years, allowing law enforcement agencies to reconstruct an individual’s movements, routines, associations, and activities.
“The information collected in this dragnet amounts to a digital dossier on the comings and goings of millions of people,” the lawsuit states.
The plaintiffs include community advocates, educators, retirees, and activists who allege their vehicles have been recorded hundreds or even thousands of times while traveling to work, religious services, political events, medical appointments, protests, and other lawful activities.
Particularly troubling to the plaintiffs is the allegation that surveillance cameras are heavily concentrated in communities along the Westchester-Bronx border, including Mount Vernon, Yonkers, and New Rochelle. The lawsuit argues that these deployments disproportionately impact Black and Latino communities and reinforce historical patterns of over-policing and surveillance.
The complaint also raises concerns about data sharing. According to the lawsuit, information collected by the surveillance network is accessible not only to local law enforcement agencies but also to federal agencies, including the FBI, DEA, and Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). Plaintiffs argue that there are few meaningful safeguards governing who can access the data, how it is used, or how long it is retained.
Another major issue raised in the lawsuit is the use of artificial intelligence-powered analytics. The complaint alleges the County utilizes software capable of identifying travel patterns, associations between vehicles, and so-called “suspicious” travel routes. Plaintiffs contend there is little public transparency regarding how these AI tools operate or whether they have been independently evaluated for accuracy and bias.
Beyond constitutional concerns, the lawsuit argues that the County lacks legal authority to operate such an expansive surveillance system. Plaintiffs claim neither the Westchester County Board of Legislators nor the New York State Legislature has expressly authorized the collection and retention of vehicle data on such a massive scale.
The lawsuit seeks a court order declaring the surveillance system unconstitutional and unauthorized under New York law, as well as an injunction preventing the County from continuing its current operations.
The filing comes amid growing national debates over privacy rights, police surveillance technologies, facial recognition systems, and the expanding role of artificial intelligence in law enforcement. Supporters of surveillance technologies often argue they help solve crimes and locate stolen vehicles, while critics contend that mass data collection threatens civil liberties and disproportionately impacts communities of color.
As of press time, Westchester County officials had not publicly responded to the allegations contained in the lawsuit.
The case is expected to draw significant attention from civil rights advocates, privacy organizations, elected officials, and residents throughout Westchester County as questions about public safety, government oversight, and constitutional rights continue to take center stage.
For many Westchester residents, the lawsuit raises a simple but profound question: How much surveillance is too much in the name of public safety?
The Joseph Gabriel Foundation, in partnership with Yonkers YWCA and the YMCA SNUG Anti-Gun Violence Unit, recently hosted a Youth Violence Prevention Forum focused on addressing the growing impact of gun violence on young people and communities. The event brought together youth, community leaders, educators, law enforcement representatives, advocates, and residents for an important conversation on prevention, intervention, mentorship, and creating safer neighborhoods for future generations.
The month of June represents various causes, and one of them is National Gun Violence Awareness Month.
For decades, the YWCA of Yonkers has been one of the main organizations in Westchester County at the Forefront of Community Advocacy against gun violence!!
On Saturday, June 6th, this artistic and informative event was held at Yonkers Arts Gallery, located at 216 Lake Ave in Yonkers.
The MC & Organizer, Michelle Gabriel, President of the Joseph Gabriel Foundation, reminded everyone at the event,
“All over the world, young people are really caught in the gap of gun violence, and we need to come together as a community. No matter what color or race, because a bullet has no color. It can be aimed at anyone”.
Yonkers City Councilwoman Tasha Diaz spoke about her personal experience with gun violence. The free event included music (live music by The School of Rock), a dynamic panel discussion featuring nine community leaders, law enforcement, and community groups that offered instructional materials and food. 12 News’ Carol Wilkinson kindly covered the event.
Organizers emphasized that ending gun violence requires a collective community effort that includes families, schools, faith-based organizations, law enforcement, and local stakeholders working together. By providing young people with resources, support systems, and opportunities, the forum aimed to inspire positive change and empower the next generation to become part of the solution in building a safer Yonkers.
It was clear based on the narrative at this event that gun violence is a National problem that is Preventable through collective community advocacy and involvement!!
The Heart of New York Beats in Westchester: Knicks Rally for Historic Game 4 Victory
I am officially out of adjectives to describe these New York Knicks during this historic playoff run.
On Wednesday night at The Westchester County Center (home of the Westchester Knicks), thousands of fans gathered to watch Game 4 of the 2026 NBA Finals, and what we witnessed will be talked about for generations. They will make an ESPN 30 For 30 documentary about this NBA Finals game. Just when it appeared the Knicks were on the verge of letting a pivotal game slip away, they once again showed the resilience, toughness, and championship heart that have defined this magical postseason journey.
As the deficit grew, the energy inside The County Center shifted from excitement to concern. A large portion of the crowd left at halftime, but for the majority who stayed, no one gave up, and most importantly, neither did the Knicks. Possession by possession, stop by stop, basket by basket, New York clawed its way back into the game before completing one of the most remarkable comebacks in NBA Finals history.
The Knicks’ historic Game 4 comeback was reminiscent of one of the greatest comebacks in sports history—Muhammad Ali’s stunning victory over George Foreman in the 1974 “Rumble in the Jungle.”
For much of Wednesday night’s game, the Spurs appeared to be in complete control, much like the younger, stronger Foreman seemed destined to overpower Ali. But just as Ali absorbed Foreman’s punishment while patiently waiting for the right moment to strike, the Knicks weathered every Spurs run without panic. They bent, but they never broke.
Then came the rally.
Like Ali exploding off the ropes in the eighth round and shocking the boxing world, the Knicks suddenly turned the game on its head. What had looked like a certain defeat transformed into an unforgettable victory as New York delivered blow after blow down the stretch, leaving the Spurs stunned and Knicks fans across the country in disbelief.
The difference, of course, is that Ali only needed one night to shock the world. The Knicks still have one more round to go. The championship belt is within reach, but just like Ali understood before the final bell rang in Zaire, the fight isn’t over until the job is finished.
When the final buzzer sounded, the crowd erupted. Strangers hugged, high-fived, and celebrated together as if they had just witnessed a miracle. From Yonkers to Mount Vernon, New Rochelle to White Plains, Greenburgh to Peekskill, Westchester County was united by a moment that reminded everyone why Knicks basketball means so much to this region. And DJ Noodle Noo (former Peekskill Mayor Andre Rainey) kept the crowd hype. While I was frustrated from watching an ugly first half, he kept me, and everyone else, amped up playing great music during the commercials.
If I’m honest, the PTSD of being a lifelong Knicks fan was kicking in. But this team continues to do what so many Knicks teams before them could not: turn adversity into opportunity and pressure into performance. With every comeback, every clutch shot, and every defensive stand, and that putback by OG with 1.2 seconds left, they are moving one step closer to bringing New York its first NBA championship since 1973.
For lifelong Knicks fans who have endured decades of heartbreak, disappointment, and near misses, Wednesday night’s comeback felt like more than just another playoff victory. It felt like destiny.
But as great and historic as Wednesday night was, and while Knicks fans all across New York State are celebrating like the championship has already been won, the job is absolutely not done yet. The celebration inside The Westchester County Center, courtesy of County Executive Ken Jenkins, was unlike anything many fans had ever experienced. Every big shot was met with deafening cheers, every defensive stop brought fans to their feet, and when the Knicks completed their historic comeback, the building erupted into pure bedlam. For a few moments, it felt like Westchester had become Madison Square Garden North.
Yet when the excitement settles, and the confetti remains only in our imaginations, the reality is simple: the Knicks still have one more game to win.
On Saturday night, the Knicks will head back to Texas with an opportunity to finish what they started and bring home the franchise’s first NBA Championship since 1973. That’s the ultimate goal. Not a historic comeback. Not a 3-1 series lead. Not headlines or celebrations. A championship.
Still, no one can blame Knicks fans for enjoying this moment. After decades of heartbreak, near misses, rebuilding years, and countless jokes at their expense, New York basketball fans are finally seeing a team that refuses to quit, no matter the circumstances. This group has shown resilience, toughness, heart, and belief throughout this remarkable playoff run.
And if the reaction Wednesday night was any indication, Westchester is celebrating just as hard—if not harder—than fans in New York City and outside Madison Square Garden. Knicks fever has taken over the county.
One more win.
That’s all that stands between this team and basketball immortality.
The Environmental Leaders of Color (ELOC) proudly celebrated the accomplishments of its Artificial Intelligence Program graduates during a special Certificate Recognition Ceremony. The event recognized students who successfully completed the organization’s AI training program and highlighted the program’s purpose: preparing students to apply artificial intelligence with skill, creativity, and responsibility.
The ceremony marked more than the completion of a course. It represented a significant milestone for students who invested their time, energy, and creativity in learning one of the most transformative technologies of the 21st century, as evidenced by their final projects and demonstrations. More importantly, it underscored the value of building practical AI skills through focused training and hands-on achievement.
Family members, educators, mentors, and community leaders gathered to recognize the graduates’ hard work and dedication as each student received a certificate acknowledging their successful completion of the ELOC Artificial Intelligence Program and their showcased projects.
“These certificates represent more than attendance,” organizers explained. “They represent commitment, innovation, perseverance, and a willingness to embrace the future, reflected in the work students completed throughout the program.”
Throughout the program, students explored the fundamentals of artificial intelligence, learned how emerging technologies are reshaping industries, and developed practical skills applicable to education, business, environmental sustainability, entrepreneurship, and workforce development, including hands-on practice with AI tools.
A highlight of the graduation showcase was the presentation of student-created AI projects, including examples that addressed real-world challenges, offered innovative solutions, and developed new ideas designed to improve communities and expand opportunities.
The projects reflected the program’s mission of preparing students not only to understand technology but also to become leaders who use it responsibly and effectively. Together, they showed why the program matters: it gives students the tools to turn learning into action.
As artificial intelligence continues to influence nearly every sector of society, programs like ELOC’s AI Initiative are helping ensure that diverse voices are represented in the development and application of future technologies, as demonstrated by the graduates’ projects.
For many graduates, the ceremony symbolized the beginning of a new journey rather than the end of one. Armed with new knowledge and practical experience, students leave the program better prepared to compete in a rapidly evolving digital economy, with certificates and completed projects to show their progress.
ELOC leaders emphasized that access to technology education is critical for creating pathways to economic empowerment, workforce development, and community advancement. Their message was clear: this training helps turn opportunity into long-term impact.
“The future belongs to those who prepare for it today,” one presenter remarked during the ceremony. “These students are not waiting for the future to arrive—they are helping to build it.”
The Certificate Recognition Ceremony served as a reminder that education, innovation, and opportunity remain powerful tools for creating positive change. As graduates crossed the stage to receive their certificates and present their work, they also took an important step toward becoming the next generation of innovators, problem-solvers, and leaders. The ceremony’s message was unmistakable: ELOC is helping students build the future through AI learning.
The Environmental Leaders of Color congratulate all graduates of the 2026 Artificial Intelligence Program and look forward to seeing how they use their talents, creativity, and knowledge to make an impact in their communities and beyond.
The Importance Of Independent Black Media In Divided Times: Why The Attack On Media Should Concern Black Communities
“There is no more essential ingredient than a free, strong, and independent press to our continued success in what the Founding Fathers called our ‘noble experiment’ in self-government.”
Those words were written by President Ronald Reagan during National Newspaper Week in 1983. More than four decades later, they remain as relevant as ever.
I saw this quote in an editorial titled “A Free Press on the Chopping Block” by Kareem Abdul Jabbar on his Substack, “Kareem Takes on the News.” He asked the question, “What happens to self-government when we decide a free press isn’t worth the trouble to defend?” That’s a question every American should be asking right now. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that this question goes to the heart of one of the greatest challenges facing our democracy today. It is also what inspired this edition of “Real Talk by AJ Woodson.”
Like Kareem’s article, I begin with President Reagan’s words because the defense of a free press should transcend politics. Unfortunately, we are living in a time when almost everything is viewed through a partisan lens. Americans increasingly get their news from ideological silos and echo chambers, consuming information that confirms what they already believe while tuning out anything that might challenge their perspective. Social media algorithms reward outrage, cable news rewards division, and too often, facts are judged not by their accuracy but by whether they support a particular political narrative. In this environment, independent journalism becomes more important—not less. The role of a free press is not to tell people what they want to hear. It is to provide the information they need to make informed decisions as citizens.
Whether you lean left, right, or somewhere in between, a free press is not a Democratic value or a Republican value—it’s an American value. And if we fail to defend it, we may discover too late what we’ve lost. It made me realize the natural bridge in the Reagan quote and how it relates to the arguments I have been making for years about the importance of independent Black media and local journalism.
There’s an old saying in the Black community: when America gets a cold, Black folks get the flu. If that’s true—and history suggests it often is—then the current climate surrounding the media should raise alarm bells for every independent Black news outlet in America. If major news organizations with national audiences, billion-dollar corporations behind them, and teams of lawyers are being attacked, discredited, and challenged for simply doing their jobs, what does that mean for smaller independent Black-owned outlets that have always had to fight for resources, access, and sustainability? Black media have never had the luxury of taking press freedom for granted. We have always had to fight to tell our own stories, challenge official narratives, and give voice to communities that were too often ignored or misrepresented by mainstream media.
The Black Press was born out of necessity. Long before diversity initiatives and corporate commitments to inclusion, Black newspapers were documenting lynchings, exposing injustice, covering civil rights struggles, and telling the stories that mainstream media refused to tell. That mission remains just as important today. If independent journalism is weakened, marginalized communities are often the first to lose their voice and the last to have their concerns heard. That’s why defending a free and independent press is not simply about protecting journalists—it’s about protecting the public’s right to know and ensuring that all communities, especially those historically overlooked, continue to have a seat at the table.
The United States was founded on the principle that an informed citizenry is essential to a functioning democracy. The First Amendment protects freedom of the press because the Founding Fathers understood that government accountability depends on the public having access to accurate information, diverse viewpoints, and independent journalism, both nationally and locally. A free press is not the enemy of democracy; it is one of democracy’s most important safeguards.
Today, however, independent media faces challenges unlike any in modern history. Journalists are increasingly being labeled as enemies, dismissed as partisan actors, harassed online, threatened for doing their jobs, and subjected to growing political attacks. At the same time, economic pressures have devastated local news organizations, creating “news deserts” in communities across the country where citizens have fewer sources of reliable information about the issues affecting their daily lives.
The danger is not simply that journalists are under attack. The greater danger is that public trust in facts, evidence, and independent reporting is being eroded. When citizens lose confidence in credible sources of information, misinformation, disinformation, and propaganda rush in to fill the vacuum. Democracy cannot function effectively when facts become optional, and truth becomes a matter of political preference.
Unfortunately, we are witnessing this erosion of trust right here in Black communities like Mount Vernon. Increasingly, people are choosing information that confirms what they already believe rather than information that challenges them to think critically. Social media posts are treated as fact. Rumors spread faster than verified reporting. Personal feelings often carry more weight than documented evidence. Too many people have become comfortable dismissing journalism they disagree with as “fake news” while accepting unverified claims that support their existing opinions.
What’s even more troubling is that we are often contributing to the very problem we claim to be concerned about. We share stories without reading them. We circulate rumors without verifying them. We attack the messenger instead of addressing the facts. We amplify misinformation because it fits our preferred narrative and ignore evidence when it does not. In doing so, we become participants in the erosion of truth rather than defenders of it.
As someone who has spent years reporting on Mount Vernon and Westchester County, I understand that people will not always agree with our coverage. That’s healthy. Debate is healthy. Accountability is healthy. But disagreement should never replace facts, and opinion should never replace evidence. A community cannot solve its problems if it cannot first agree on reality.
The greatest threat to independent journalism may not be politicians, corporations, or outside forces. It may be our growing willingness as a society to abandon objective facts in favor of information that simply makes us feel good or validates our existing beliefs. Once truth becomes negotiable, everyone loses. And historically, Black communities have paid a higher price than most when truth is ignored, suppressed, or distorted.
This is especially concerning for local journalism. National headlines often dominate the conversation, but local reporters are the ones attending school board and library board meetings, covering city halls, investigating government spending, reporting on public safety, and amplifying the voices of everyday residents. When local journalism weakens, transparency suffers, and communities become less informed about decisions that directly affect their lives.
As the Editor-in-Chief of Black Westchester, I understand firsthand the importance of independent media. Our responsibility is not to protect politicians, political parties, corporations, or special interests. Our responsibility is to inform the public, ask difficult questions, seek the truth, and hold those in power accountable, regardless of who they are.
A free press does not exist to make people comfortable. It exists to make sure the public is informed.
That is why attacks on independent journalism should concern every American, regardless of political affiliation. Whether you are conservative, liberal, independent, or somewhere in between, the right to receive accurate information and the freedom of journalists to report the truth are fundamental to our democracy.
Ronald Reagan understood that in 1983. The Founding Fathers understood it in 1787. The question for our generation is whether we understand it today.
If we truly value democracy, we must value the institutions that help protect it. A free, strong, and independent press is not a luxury. It is a necessity. And in today’s political climate, defending it may be more important than ever.
One of the most important questions in public policy is not whether a proposal sounds compassionate, inclusive, or progressive. The more important question is whether it strengthens or weakens the institutions upon which society depends. Throughout history, nations have risen and fallen not simply because of economic policy or military power, but because of the strength or weakness of their cultural institutions. Among those institutions, none is more important than the family.
The family is the first school, the first government, the first economic unit, and the first place where values are transmitted from one generation to the next. Long before a child encounters a teacher, a politician, a police officer, or an employer, that child encounters a mother and a father. For this reason, any public policy that alters society’s understanding of motherhood, fatherhood, and family deserves serious examination.
This is why New York Senate Bill S9316 should concern every citizen, regardless of political affiliation. The legislation replaces references to “mother,” “father,” and “paternity” throughout portions of New York Family Court Law with terms such as “gestating parent,” “non-gestating parent,” “parent,” and “parentage.” The bill also changes Article 5 of the Family Court Act from “Paternity Proceedings” to “Parentage Proceedings” and removes legal definitions of mother and father that have existed in New York law for generations.
Supporters of the legislation argue that these changes simply modernize legal language and make family law more inclusive. Perhaps that is their intention. However, public policy should not be evaluated solely on intentions. It should be evaluated on consequences. Before embracing any significant change, citizens should ask a simple question: What problem is being solved?
For generations, New York law recognized mothers and fathers as distinct legal and social realities. Those terms were universally understood. They reflected biological relationships, family responsibilities, and social expectations that formed the foundation of family life. Today, lawmakers are replacing those terms with language that is increasingly bureaucratic and clinical. A father becomes a non-gestating parent. A mother becomes a gestating parent. The issue is not whether those new terms can be defined. The issue is why the old terms needed to be removed.
This question becomes even more important when viewed against the backdrop of family instability. For decades, policymakers, educators, clergy, and community leaders have discussed the consequences of fatherlessness, declining marriage rates, and household fragmentation. Entire industries of research have examined the importance of parental involvement in the lives of children. While no family structure guarantees success, there is overwhelming evidence that children generally benefit when responsible mothers and fathers actively participate in their upbringing.
This reality is particularly relevant in Black America. For generations, Black leaders have spoken about the consequences of family breakdown. They have discussed absent fathers, declining marriage rates, and the weakening of institutions that once reinforced personal responsibility and community stability. Whether one agrees with every diagnosis offered over the years is not the point. The point is that countless leaders have argued that stronger communities require stronger families. If that is true, it is reasonable to ask whether removing the language of motherhood and fatherhood from law advances that goal or undermines it.
The larger concern is not merely the language itself. The larger concern is the philosophy behind it. Laws are rarely isolated acts. They reflect a worldview. They communicate assumptions about society and human nature. When government removes the legal distinctions between mothers and fathers, it is making a statement about whether those distinctions remain important enough to preserve. Supporters may insist that nothing substantial has changed, but if nothing substantial has changed, why was the change necessary in the first place?
History teaches that cultural institutions are often weakened gradually rather than suddenly. Rarely does society announce that it intends to dismantle an institution. Instead, the process begins by redefining terms, altering assumptions, and changing the language through which people understand reality. Over time, what was once considered foundational becomes optional. What was once considered essential becomes interchangeable. Eventually, society forgets why those institutions existed in the first place.
One of the most troubling aspects of this debate is the silence from many of the very institutions that have historically defended the family. For generations, the Black church stood at the center of community life. Black pastors spoke boldly about issues affecting Black families, whether those issues involved civil rights, education, poverty, crime, or economic opportunity. The church understood that spiritual leadership required engagement with the issues shaping the lives of its members.
Yet as New York lawmakers move to remove the legal definitions of mother and father from family law, many pastors remain silent. This silence is difficult to understand because family is not a peripheral concern within Christianity. Family is foundational to the biblical worldview. Before there was a church, there was a family. Before there was a nation of Israel, there was a family. Before there was civil government, there was a family. Scripture consistently presents the family as one of God’s primary institutions for transmitting faith, values, and responsibility across generations.
Throughout the Bible, God works through families. Abraham was called to build a family. Israel was organized around families. Parents were instructed to teach their children. Fathers were given responsibilities. Mothers were given responsibilities. Marriage was treated as sacred. The health of the family was inseparable from the health of the community. In many respects, faith itself was preserved through the family structure. If family is foundational to faith, then legislation that redefines the language of family should concern every church leader, every pastor, and every believer.
This concern becomes even more significant when viewed through the lens of Scripture. Genesis 1:27 states, “So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them.” The Fifth Commandment instructs believers to “Honour thy father and thy mother.” Ephesians 6:4 specifically addresses fathers, saying, “And, ye fathers, provoke not your children to wrath: but bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.” Throughout Scripture, God consistently speaks in terms of fathers and mothers, male and female, husband and wife. These distinctions are not presented as social inventions. They are presented as part of God’s created order.
This raises a question that every believer should consider carefully. When God’s law consistently recognizes fathers and mothers, but man’s law increasingly replaces those terms with gender-neutral alternatives, are we witnessing a godly progression or an ungodly departure from God’s design? When government removes language that Scripture repeatedly affirms, should Christians remain silent simply because the change is presented as modern or inclusive?
These questions are not motivated by hostility toward anyone. They arise from a concern about consequences. Strong societies require strong families. Strong families require clear responsibilities, clear expectations, and clear identities. When government begins altering the language through which society understands those relationships, citizens have every right to ask where that path ultimately leads.
The debate surrounding Senate Bill S9316 is therefore much larger than a dispute over terminology. It reflects competing visions of family, society, and human identity. One vision sees motherhood and fatherhood as foundational institutions that deserve explicit recognition because they perform distinct and irreplaceable functions. The other increasingly views those distinctions as unnecessary and seeks to replace them with broader, more flexible language.
The people of New York must decide which vision they believe will produce stronger families, stronger communities, and a stronger society. Because at the end of the day, no amount of political language can substitute for the institutions that hold civilization together. The future of New York will depend less on the sophistication of its legal terminology than on the strength of the families raising the next generation. Before lawmakers redefine motherhood and fatherhood, they should first explain how doing so will make those families stronger.
Until they can answer that question convincingly, skepticism is not only reasonable. It is necessary.
