Opinion: Competence Matters

By Rev. Donald L. Perryman, Ph.D.

The Truth Contributor

“I choose to believe we’re still in a time of a meritocracy, where merit means something.” – Judge Myron Duhart, Ohio Sixth District Court of Appeals

Six years ago, before he won his seat on the appeals court, I sat down with Judge Myron Duhart. This time I asked what looks different.

“What is happening, live and in color, different than 2020 when I went in, is what’s happening every single day,” he said. By any objective standard, due process and the rule of law face more challenges “than any time in recent history.” The last time he can point to a similar era is “the 1960s and the civil rights era.”

A sitting judge doesn’t reach for the civil rights era to make small talk and, from where I sit, you don’t have to look far for what Duhart means. Major news organizations and journalists are in court right now over being barred from the White House and Air Force One.

Duhart didn’t name names. He said only that in 2026 we are having conversations about “what I thought was otherwise settled law.” Ask anybody who lived through the 60s what a settled right is worth.

The Voting Rights Act of 1965 “settled” the ballot after Selma. Yet, 61 years later, the Supreme Court threw out a Louisiana map with two majority-Black districts, and voting rights groups say the Voting Rights Act now protects less than it did.

So, I asked what a judge does with a time like this. His answer? “I choose to believe we’re still in a time of a meritocracy, where merit means something.”

Notice the verb. People who are sure don’t have to choose.

That verb lays a duty on the rest of us. Too many candidates now win office on loyalty to a personality instead of the ability to do the work, and those who pay for it are never the ones with money. This November, with two seats on the Sixth District Court of Appeals up, Toledo gets to say whether it chooses to believe too.

What Merit Looks Like

If we are going to believe in merit, we must check the evidence.

Duhart enlisted in the Army as a private and came out a JAG officer, a military lawyer in the Army’s legal branch tasked to prosecute and defend courts-martial and advise commanders in the law. As a student he clerked for Toledo Municipal Judge Robert Penn, then earned his law degree at the University of Toledo and a master’s in judicial studies at the prestigious Duke University. He has also studied at Harvard’s Kennedy School of Government.

Governor Strickland appointed Duhart to Common Pleas in 2011, and when a justice of the Supreme Court of Ohio stepped aside from a death penalty appeal, the court handed the case to him.

The people who watch him work have also weighed in. Toledo Bar Association polls its members on the qualifications of every judicial candidate on the Nov. 3 ballot, Duhart’s opponent, CJ Kamm, included. Of those members who responded, 77 percent rated Duhart “highly recommended” to serve as a judge, the best showing of any candidate and 15 points ahead of the next highest. Duhart called that “very heartening,” because those are “the very people that frankly know you the best.”

Competence Matters

Voters have to recognize competence when it stands in front of them and prize it above a name or a party label.

Competence is not one thing. It is a list, and the judge who has it can show you every item: “experience, merit, qualifications.” Then there is the item nobody campaigns on, “humility in a time where we don’t see a whole lot of humility,” along with “respect for the rule of law and due process, respect for others.” Add up those qualities and you get the one thing a court cannot function without: trust.

The executive and legislative branches “have the power of the purse, they have the power of the sword. But in the third branch of government, all we have is trust, trust to the people,” Duhart cautioned. “Sometimes, it’s the perception of justice is just as important as actual justice.”

Who needs that belief most? Wealthy persons can hire around a bad judge. A poor or working-class family can’t, and for them the judge is the lawyer, the cavalry and the last hope, all in one robe. Trust is all they have to go on.

So how do you vote on trust?

Look for the judge with a long-standing record in the legal community as well as the greater community, and the integrity to match. Look for fairness, or at least the certainty that anyone who comes into that courtroom knows “they’ll be heard.” A case decided with fairness “goes to the heart of the perception of justice,” and fairness without competence is only good intentions.

Duhart is willing to be measured by it. “I stand on my record,” he says. “I often say if you took my resume and you took my opponent’s resume, it would be a stark difference and a stark deficiency as to my opponent, in all the things that you would necessarily want in a judge.”

Competence is on the ballot, November 3. Choose it. Contact Rev. Donald Perryman, PhD, at drdlperryman@centerofhopebaptist.org

Who Gets to Keep the Family Album? The Power of Remembering Who We Are

By Asia Nail

The Truth Reporter

Rhonda Sewell’s lifetime recognition from the Association for Ethnic Studies honors a career spent amplifying culture, challenging omissions and making room for the people whose history too often lives outside the frame.

The Door That Stayed Open

Every family has an album. Inside, somebody stands proudly in their Sunday best. A child grins with a missing tooth. An elder carries stories no photograph could ever hold.

But what happens when someone tears out the pages? When a child opens the album and cannot find the people who helped make the family whole?

That question lives at the heart of Ethnic Studies. It also runs through the career of Rhonda Sewell, a journalist, educator and cultural advocate whose work has helped communities see themselves in the stories institutions tell.

This October, the Association for Ethnic Studies (AES) will honor Sewell with a lifetime recognition award during its 53rd annual conference in Los Angeles, Oct. 15–17. The recognition celebrates her commitment to Ethnic Studies and her career-long work advancing diversity, equity, inclusion and belonging.

For Sewell, the honor feels deeply personal. It arrives in a season when she is reflecting on the life she has built and the impact she has made.

“You know, when you reach a certain stage in life, you start to reflect on what you’ve done,” she says, considering the impact she has made on her family, herself and the world around her. She sees moments of recognition as an “indication that God is smiling upon you.”

When Ravi K. Perry, PhD, called to tell her about the award, she never expected the conversation to be about her.

“I was in shock,” she recalls.

Then came the tears, the gratitude and the feeling that the moment carried a message from our Creator. After years of doing the work without seeking applause, she received a reminder that her efforts had opened doors and left a mark.

Who Gets to Tell the Story?

A photograph can show who stood in the room. It cannot explain who was allowed inside.

Who decides which histories children learn? Whose art hangs on museum walls? Who gets remembered as a builder of this country, and who survives only in family stories?

In the mid-1990s, while reporting for The Blade, Sewell accepted an invitation from Robert L. Perry, PhD, and John S. Scott, PhD, to teach at Bowling Green State University. She designed a course called “Mass Media and Ethnic Groups: From the 1800s to the Present Day.”

She had never taught a class before. Her mentors saw something in her that she had not yet discovered in herself.

“They were like, “Rhonda, you have the chops to do this,’” she remembers.

Sewell brought journalism research and curiosity into the classroom, mixing films, presentations and discussion. She wanted students to participate, not sit silently while someone delivered information from the front of the room.

“Young people want to feel something in these courses and they want to be heard,” she says.

That belief extended beyond teaching. The media can describe a community every day and still fail to understand it. Its struggles may make headlines while its brilliance goes unmentioned.

Sewell wanted to help tell a complete story.

The Curriculum Is a Time Machine

Education can carry us backward, but it should never leave us stranded there.

Sewell entered a tradition built by people who challenged the limits of conventional education. Robert Perry is a distinguished member and prominent leader of AES. Perry and Scott, alongside student activists, established Ohio’s first Ethnic Studies program at BGSU in 1970.

Their work insisted that students deserved more than a narrow account of history.

Sewell still marvels at what those educators accomplished, including bringing James Baldwin to BGSU’s campus. She describes Perry and Scott as visionaries who trusted younger professionals to carry their work forward.

“They were passing the torch on to me and others like me,” she says.

That history makes her recognition especially meaningful. Ravi Perry, Robert Perry’s son, selected Sewell for the honor decades after his father and Scott opened the classroom door for her.

For Sewell, the connection is more than coincidence. It is a full-circle moment, one that links the people who gave her an opportunity with the person she became because they did.

Ethnic Studies examines how culture, identity, race and power shape human experience. It challenges students to look beyond the familiar version of history and recognize the people whose contributions have gone unacknowledged.

A fuller history does not diminish anyone. It gives us a more honest picture of the world we share.

The Museum Is a Mirror

A museum invites people to look at art. But what happens when visitors struggle to find themselves reflected in what they see?

Sewell has carried that question into her work at the Toledo Lucas County Public Library and the Toledo Museum of Art. At the library, she advocated for public funding and literacy. At the museum, she served as its inaugural Director of Belonging and Community Engagement before becoming Director of Advocacy and External Affairs.

She often approaches institutional decisions with a deceptively simple question: Have we asked the community?

That question can change a conversation. Leaders may create elaborate plans without consulting the people those plans are meant to serve. They can talk about belonging while overlooking the voices that could help them understand what belonging requires.

Sewell describes her calling plainly: “I call myself a culture amplifier.”

The phrase fits her work. She wants stories to travel farther and reach people who might otherwise never encounter them.

The Toledo Museum of Art is preparing a reimagined installation expected to open in 2027. The presentation will arrange art chronologically while drawing connections among artists and countries, including Pablo Picasso and Kehinde Wiley.

Art does not exist in a sealed room. Instead, artists respond to the world around them, building on influences that cross borders and generations. A museum can help visitors see those relationships, but it must remain willing to tell a wider story.

The People Who Build the Bridge

A bridge matters because someone else can cross it.

Sewell knows this from experience. Her own career changed because two educators trusted her with an opportunity she had never imagined pursuing.

This year, Toledo will bring its own voices and legacy to the AES conference. Jon-Jama Scott, son of John S. Scott, will present “Black Spirit,” carrying forward a connection to the Ethnic Studies movement that helped shape his father’s work. His presence adds a personal dimension to a conference rooted in the people who fought to make Ethnic Studies a recognized and valued field of study. Jennifer Lewis will make her conference debut with “Navigating Cultural Tensions in Legacy Brands,” bringing another Toledo perspective to conversations about culture, identity and representation.

Their participation carries the work into the next generation.

Sewell and her mentors did not always stand on equal ground. They occupied different places in their lives and careers. But Perry and Scott recognized her potential and gave her room to grow.

She has never forgotten that gift.

“They changed the trajectory of my life,” she says of the elders who opened doors for her.

Their example taught her that leadership means more than collecting opportunities. It means creating them for someone else.

A Gathering of Voices, A Legacy of Truth

The Association for Ethnic Studies’ 53rd annual conference will bring together scholars, educators and cultural leaders whose work challenges us to look more closely at the stories history preserves and the voices it leaves at the margins. Featured scholars include Christine Sleeter, PhD, internationally recognized for her work in multicultural education and critical pedagogy, alongside Verónica X. Valadez and Gabriel A. Orosco, whose work connects Indigenous philosophies with community-based teaching.

Conference leadership and programming will draw on the expertise of faculty and scholars including Ezekiel Joubert III, PhD; LaShonda Carter, PhD; Deborah Brown, PhD; Robert De’Von Jiles, PhD, and Professor Francisco Najera. Across the program, presenters will explore the intersections of Black identity, feminism, artistic recognition, cultural memory and healing.

Jon-Jama Scott’s “Black Spirit,” will be presented alongside scholars examining Black women columnists, the recognition of Black American artistic contributions and the reclamation of plantation sites, reflecting the conference’s broader commitment to asking whose histories are honored and how communities can reclaim the power to tell their own stories.

Under the theme “For the People: A Loving Defense for Ethnic Studies,” the gathering is more than an exchange of academic ideas. It is a defense of the right to remember, to question and to see our communities reflected in the histories we pass forward.

The Vocabulary of Belonging

Belonging means more than being allowed into a room. It means knowing your presence matters once you arrive.

There is power in being seen, and just as much power in being remembered. In journalism, that means seeing a community represented beyond its worst day. In a library, it can mean finding the resources that help a child imagine their future. In a museum, it may mean standing before a work of art and recognizing something of yourself.

Sewell brings a social justice lens to her work, but she does not pretend change happens automatically. As she continues building relationships inside some of Toledo’s most influential institutions, she’s learned how to advocate from within.

“I have a social justice spirit,” she explains. “That’s just who I am.”

Her approach is persistent. When she sees something that is not right, she wants to know what can be done to change it.

That work begins with listening. It requires institutions to recognize that communities hold knowledge beyond their own offices and that people deserve a voice in the stories told about them.

Sixty Years, One Unfinished Conversation

At 60, Sewell is looking backward with gratitude and forward with curiosity. She has spent decades reporting, teaching and advocating. Now she is thinking about what comes next.

Her generation, she believes, has reached a moment of responsibility.

“We have to now pass the baton and the torch,” she says.

As new doors open for Sewell, she often holds them open for someone else, recommending the next chapter of leaders for board seats instead of taking every opportunity for herself.

“Have you considered this person?” she asks.

That question is another way of lighting the way.

She understands that the work cannot depend on one generation forever. The people who once made room for her showed her how to do the same for others.

Still, the future can feel uncertain. Sewell has described being in transition, weighing difficult choices and trusting God to order her steps. Somewhere in the pages ahead, she hopes to write and publish a book of her own.

She may not have every answer yet, but she carries faith, experience and the freedom to decide what comes next.

Sometimes that is enough to begin.

The History We Carry Into the Future

Imagine a child opening the family album years from now.

The pages hold evidence of struggle, creativity and love. They show people who made a way when the road narrowed, elders who protected their stories and ordinary people whose choices shaped lives beyond their own.

That child deserves the whole album.

Sewell’s lifetime recognition celebrates a career spent keeping those pages from disappearing. Her work reminds us that history is not simply what happened. It is also what we choose to preserve and what we allow the next generation to believe about itself.

The AES conference theme, “For the People: A Loving Defense for Ethnic Studies,” makes a powerful distinction. Love does not require us to ignore what is broken. Sometimes love is precisely why we refuse to look away.

For decades, Sewell has helped bring overlooked voices into view. Now the field she helped serve has turned toward her and acknowledged the difference she has made.

The album is not complete. There are still names to speak, photographs to take and blank pages waiting for someone brave enough to fill them.

Rhonda Sewell knows what it means when someone believes in you before you fully believe in yourself. She has lived the difference one open door can make.

Now she is helping others find their way through.

Somewhere, a young person is waiting to see their reflection in a story, to discover that their voice belongs in the room, that their history belongs on the record, that their dreams deserve a place in the world.

Perhaps that is how we change the picture. One story preserved. One voice amplified. One door opened wide enough for someone else to walk through.

And one day, they will turn around and do the same.

Explore the Association for Ethnic Studies 53rd annual conference, “For the People: A Loving Defense for Ethnic Studies,” bringing together scholars, educators and cultural advocates to preserve cultural memory, challenge historical omissions and amplify the voices that shape our collective story.

Opinion: The Clock is on the Ballot

By Rev. Donald L. Perryman, Ph.D.

The Truth Contributor

“If we promise as public officials, we must deliver.” – Barbara Jordan

Ohio ended Golden Week in 2014, the one-week period when voters could register and vote in a single trip. A federal judge called that cut illegal, citing evidence that Black voters had used that week at several times the rate of white voters, but the Sixth Circuit reversed him and described what remained as “a generous early voting schedule.”

Ohio promises easy voting, but the question is whether the schedule delivers.

Vote early in Lucas County today, and you go to the back door of a county building on West Sylvania Avenue, the county’s only early-voting site. For the first three weeks, it’s open only on weekdays, eight to five.

Defenders point out that Ohio offers 22 days of in-person early voting and that anyone can vote by mail, though a mail ballot has to be requested by October 27 and reach the Board of Elections by 7:30 p.m. on Election Day. Still, the window has shrunk from 35 days in 2008 to 27 this year.

Somebody chose those reduced hours, and that somebody’s job is on your ballot.

Who Sets the Clock

The Secretary of State sets the schedule that every county must follow, and the Lucas County Board of Elections can’t change it. The legislature wrote the rules, including ending early voting on the Monday before Election Day.

This year the Secretary of State’s job is open, and every seat in the Ohio House and half the Senate are up.

Easy for Whom?

The Census Bureau asked registered voters why they sat out the 2022 midterms. The most common answer, at 26.5 percent, was a work or school schedule conflict. Eight to five costs the people who work and those who must watch kids or wait for a ride. The only Sunday available for early voting is November 1, from 1 to 5 p.m.

For example, take a home health aide who rides the bus and clocks out at five. For the first three weeks, the early-vote site closes at the hour she leaves work, and evening hours don’t start until October 26.

The Margin

About one in five Black Ohioans voted early in 2008 and 2012, compared with fewer than one in ten white Ohioans, according to the Census survey figures presented in court.

This year the races are tight. Congresswoman Marcy Kaptur won two years ago by 2,382 votes, and the latest Times/Siena poll has for U.S. Senator Sherrod Brown up three points in the Senate race, inside the margin of error.

When a few thousand votes can settle a race, how hard the door is to open stops being a side issue. A congressional seat, a Senate seat, Toledo’s school levy will get settled by whoever shows up.

So, vote early. Make sure you bring your ID and bring someone who doesn’t have a ride. Church vans know the way to Sylvania Avenue, and Sunday’s doors open at one o’clock on November 1.

Then take your time with the ballot, all the way down. The Secretary of State and the legislature — the offices that set these rules — are on it.

The clock is on the ballot. Don’t skip that part. Contact Rev. Donald Perryman, PhD, at drdlperryman@centerofhopebaptist.org

Bethesda Christian Center, A Ridiculous Blessing: FREE GAS GIVEAWAY

By The Congregants of Bethesda Christian Center

Special To The Truth

On Sunday, September 27, at the time when most were on their way “to church”, Bethesda Christian Center members were on their way “from church.”

This obviously was an anomaly for an expected not so “Mega Church” according to the standards as to what MEGA means, particularly as it relates to church. While many were astonished as to what was truly going on with people who are traditionally vested in Sunday morning attire, it soon became evident that some of the people who were noticed and known in the community, were appearing to look different in a kind of gear uncommon to many of us on Sunday morning.

We didn’t dress UP, we dressed DOWN.

It became evident that the Marathon Gas Station at 541 N. Reynolds Rd.@Nebraska, had simply become juxtaposed to show a very different picture of what an average day there would look like; but it was Sunday morning.

However, to many, it didn’t take long to realize that something unusual was happening. A FREE GAS GIVEAWAY gave way to the many cars that noticed that a long line behind the Marathon Station had a pattern and a purpose established where drivers would pull up to the next pump open after they had received their offered opportunity to get gas at no cost to them.

While Bethesda Christian Center has spent some time revisiting its Mission, it was noticeably relevant that one thing was missing from the Mission. It was the presence of feel good things and, might we be transparent, the absence of little reaching OUT that is needed to make a significant difference in the lives of families who face constant struggles, especially during this time of uncertainty and INSOLVENCY.

The shift has prompted us to focus more on empty tables than dressed up titles. As the tumultuous turn of events continues to arise almost hourly, where the average family faces not just challenges but life-changing circumstances, there is an obvious need to realign priorities to attempt to help meet basic needs. This is what Bethesda Christian Center realized.

Any amount of reaching out would place some credence to what the MISSION OF THE CHURCH SHOULD BE about. This small act of a FREE GAS GIVEAWAY through that of caring, sharing and valuing relationships with people who ought to matter to us, can only bring smiles, along with attention to the reality, that churches ought not to have loaded bank accounts without the thought to the needs of the people who are often the ones to load them.

Let me disclaim this right now, Bethesda does not have a loaded bank account, yet, lol. However, the more we gather, the more we’ll give away. Here’s a thought though: Could it be possible that loaded bank accounts place more focus on what’s In the house vs. what’s Outside of the house?

Bethesda Christian Center is realigning our priorities. We vow to reach not just the lost but the hungry, the homeless, the lonely, the downtrodden, the hurt, the helpless needing help, the youth needing to but challenged to stay young, the isolated needing a friend, the ones lacking adequate clothes, and so much more that’s possible to just “help”.

And as we continued to smile and pump, we were able to provide gasoline for 60 drivers, 60 families and households, 60 automobiles who would be able to get to important destinations that possibly took them from point A to point B and with the help of caring people at Bethesda Christian Center congregation, possibly point C.

A special thanks to Marathon Gas Station, Owner Hassan and Staff, we appreciate you. Even during this time, the gas was lessened by 10 cents which allowed us to give a bit more.

Continue to pray for us at Bethesda, we are vowing to do more. And as we elevate our MISSION, we are elevating our THINKING. Please feel free to join us any Tuesday at 6 PM, Sunday at 11 AM and anytime in between.

We have a Food Pantry, Clothing wears, Prayer Center, Leadership Training and much more, helping to elevate the quality of life for our families. We’re located at 5967 Telegraph Rd., Toledo, Oh. 43612. Reach us at FB Bethesda Toledo. Bishop Marjorie Holt, Ph. D., Sr. Servant.

The Hard Call

By Rev. Donald L. Perryman, Ph.D.

The Truth Contributor

“A time comes when silence is betrayal.” – Martin Luther King Jr.

Schuyler Beckwith could have said nothing about the new television ad from Marcy Kaptur, who has spent four decades bringing millions of federal dollars home to this community, and many in politics would have called that the expedient thing to do.

Kaptur is fighting for a seat in a district redrawn to favor Republicans by nine points, after winning her last race by less than one. Beckwith chairs the Democratic Party in Lucas County, the district’s largest county. She spoke up anyway.

What a decision! And Beckwith made the right call.

The Call She Made

Congresswoman Kaptur has represented this area since 1983. She co-sponsored the Equality Act and voted against the Republican sports bill in 2023 and 2025. This month her campaign ran an ad saying she voted with Republicans to keep

“transgender ideology” out of schools and that boys shouldn’t play in girls’ sports. Her campaign says parents and local coaches, not Washington, should make those calls.

On September 22, the Beckwith-led Lucas County Democratic Party responded definitively. Its statement said the Party was “disappointed and ashamed” and asked the Kaptur campaign to take the ad down.

In the same statement, it said it expects Kaptur to win. Our trans and LGBTQ neighbors were listening, and the party’s own Stonewall club had already written to Kaptur. The Party chair’s silence would have been noticed.

What Sat on the Scale

Beckwith was torn and had every reason to be. She told one reporter the ad “made me sick to my stomach” and told another it was an incredibly difficult decision.

Look at what sat on the scale. Kaptur has represented this area since 1983, in what one report calls the most pro-Trump district any Democrat in Congress holds. Beckwith’s mother worked for Kaptur for more than 30 years, and her father came from a community-organizing background. Against all that stood her neighbors in the trans and LGBTQ community, hearing their own Party’s candidate borrow the far right’s vocabulary.

Whichever way Beckwith went, somebody would be hurt, and if Kaptur loses in November, people will look for someone to blame.

I get Beckwith’s trepidation.

Some Democrats will say a public rebuke six weeks before the election only helps Derek Merrin. She knows the ad may cost Kaptur some voters. But Kaptur’s campaign put this subject on the air, not the Party.

Merrin was already running ads on her sports votes, so the statement gave him nothing new to say. What it did was tell trans and LGBTQ Democrats that their Party had noticed what was said about them. And Beckwith didn’t pull the endorsement or tell anybody to stay home. She’s still urging Democrats to vote for Kaptur.

Leadership Isn’t Expedient

A Party that remains together only by staying silent doesn’t have unity. It is a divided Party with unresolved toxic differences. So, rather than settling for political expediency as most politicians do, Beckwith did what she believed was right — in an election of this size — and she did it while still backing the candidate.

That is extraordinary leadership and deserves commendation.

The premise of the Dems’ big tent brand is that its diversity enriches the entire Party. However, true unity never demands uniformity and works only when everybody in the tent can stand together without wondering whether they count.

The Young Democrats made that point in their own letter: trans people are neighbors and often fellow Democrats, not pawns. Nobody in a tent that size gets to be comfortable all the time.

Marcy Kaptur belongs in that tent too. Her record on this issue is not a straight line, and a Party can hold her to account for the ad while leaving her room to answer.

The truth is that Parties don’t stay honest on their own. Somebody inside has to say so.

Tell every candidate on your ballot that you noticed what they said about the most vulnerable folks in this county when it was inconvenient.

Early voting starts October 6. Vote. Contact Rev. Donald Perryman, PhD, at drdlperryman@centerofhopebaptist.org

Micheal Alexander Takes the Helm of Pathway Brothers United, Calling Men to Step Into Fatherhood

By Asia Nail

The Truth Reporter

For Micheal Alexander Sr., fatherhood is bigger than a last name.

It is showing up. It is being a steady voice when a young person needs direction. It is having enough life experience to say, “I’ve been there,” and enough humility to help somebody else avoid the same potholes.

Now, Alexander is bringing that philosophy to the helm of Brothers United, the Pathway Inc. program that has spent the past decade supporting fathers and strengthening families in Toledo.

He is not walking into an empty room.

Avis Files built the foundation for Brothers United in 2015, developing a program rooted in fatherhood, family and the real needs of the community. Alexander says Files has already become a friend and resource as he steps into the next chapter.

“She’s left a phenomenal framework,” he says.

His goal is not to tear down what has been built.

It is to keep building higher.

A New Chapter, Not a New Foundation

Alexander has been in his position for nearly four months, and he already sees room for Pathway Brothers United to stretch its reach.

The current FORGE fatherhood grant began in 2025 and is entering its second year of its five-year funding cycle. Because the program is not income-based, Alexander sees an opportunity to reach fathers across a much wider spectrum.

That includes fathers, grandfathers, uncles and foster fathers who have a child in their lives age 24 or younger.

“We have a lot of room for outreach,” he explains.

That matters because fatherhood does not come in one package.

There is the dad working two jobs and trying to make it home before bedtime. The father rebuilding after a divorce. The grandfather raising grandchildren. The stepfather who chose to love a child who does not share his DNA. The uncle who became the dependable man in the room. The young father who is still figuring out what being a father actually means.

And sometimes, a man can be providing for everybody else while quietly needing somebody to pour back into him.

Brothers United wants to be that place.

The Only “Hood” They Claim

The organization’s familiar message says it plainly:

The hood we claim is fatherhood.

For Alexander, that means fatherhood is not simply biological.

“It’s being the support system,” he says.

It means stepping into spaces where young people need guidance and being intentional about the impact a man leaves behind.

That last part is important.

A father does not have to be perfect to be present.

He just has to understand that somebody is watching.

A son may watch how his father handles pressure. A daughter may learn something about love from how her father treats people. A teenager may remember the uncle who answered the phone when nobody else did.

Sometimes fatherhood looks like a paycheck.

Sometimes it looks like a ride to school.

Sometimes it is a conversation in the driveway that lasts 10 minutes longer than expected.

Sometimes it is simply being there.

Alexander says the goal is to “leave fathers better than when they arrived.”

That is a philosophy that reaches beyond parenting.

When Men Have a Place to Grow

Alexander is candid about some of the barriers fathers face.

Some are personal choices. Others are generational.

When a man grows up without a strong father figure or stable household, he may enter adulthood without having seen certain lessons modeled. Then those gaps can repeat themselves in the next generation.

Alexander says Pathway Brothers United works to help men break through those barriers by connecting them with education, GED opportunities, employment and other resources.

But there is another piece that can be harder to talk about.

Men need men.

Not men standing around judging each other.

Men sitting at the same table, sharing what they have learned.

The Pathway Brothers United four-week program gives fathers that kind of sounding board. Even a man who already has a good job can benefit from the fatherhood development, relationship and co-parenting tools offered through the program.

Alexander also wants fathers who have completed the training and found employment to return and encourage the men coming behind them.

That creates something bigger than a class.

It creates a brotherhood.

A Bigger Table

Perhaps one of the most significant parts of Alexander’s vision is his desire to make Pathway Brothers United feel increasingly multicultural and inclusive.

He wants fathers from different income levels and nationalities to see themselves in the program.

That is more than a numbers game.

It is an opportunity for men who might never otherwise sit together to discover that they have more in common than they thought.

Race can shape a person’s experiences. So can poverty, wealth, geography, religion and family history. Those differences are real.

But when communities become completely isolated from one another, assumptions can grow in the empty spaces.

One group hears stories about another group without ever meeting the people behind them. Bias can become comfortable. Fear can grow where familiarity is missing.

Bringing people together does not erase differences.

It gives people a chance to understand them.

A father from one neighborhood may discover that the father across town worries about the same things: keeping his children safe, paying the bills, being respected and leaving something better behind.

Different backgrounds.

Same concerns.

Same children growing up in the same city.

Alexander wants Pathway Brothers United to help create those connections.

He also hopes to strengthen relationships with faith communities and men’s ministries, while bringing established men into the program to share their experiences with participants.

Because sometimes a man does not need another lecture.

He needs to see somebody who made it.

Providing More Than a Paycheck

Alexander understands the dignity that comes from being able to provide.

He describes employment and financial stability as empowering for fathers.

A decent job can change how a man sees himself. It can give him the ability to buy what his children need, plan beyond Friday and stand a little taller because he knows he is contributing to his family’s well-being.

But Pathway Brothers United is not simply a workforce program.

If a father already has a good job, he can still benefit.

If he needs a college degree, there are resources.

If he needs help navigating child support, there are resources.

If he needs another organization, Pathway Brothers United can make the connection.

If he needs to talk about something he has never felt comfortable saying out loud, Alexander says there are people who can help him find the next step.

That is what makes the work human.

You don’t have to arrive with everything figured out.

You just have to be willing to start.

For the Father Who Is Still Trying

Alexander has already seen fathers come through the program, graduate, earn certificates and secure jobs.

His message to a struggling father is simple:

Reach out.

Talk to somebody.

Find out what help is available.

Then do your part.

“We’re putting in the work and the effort as well,” he says.

There is no promise that fatherhood will be easy.

There is no perfect manual.

But there is power in a man deciding that whatever happened before today does not have to write the rest of his story.

Alexander is taking the wheel at Brothers United with a foundation behind him, a broader table in mind and a simple belief at the center of it all:

Men can grow.

Fathers can become more intentional.

And when fathers have the support to become stronger, the impact does not stop with them.

It reaches their children.

Then their families.

Then the community.

That may be the real work of Pathway Brothers United’s next chapter: reminding men that fatherhood is not about having all the answers.

It is about being willing to show up, learn, grow and leave something better behind.

Interested in Brothers United? Fathers and father figures can learn more about the program, available resources and ways to get connected through Brothers United at Pathway Inc.

Opinion: Meetings Are Free

By Rev. Donald L. Perryman, Ph.D.

The Truth Contributor

“It’s not that they don’t hear you. It’s that hearing you costs them nothing.” 

Toledo City Council spent three hours last week listening to folks practically beg for basic answers about a camera system that’s been watching us since 2022. 

I’ve had this exact conversation before — with the Lucas County Sheriff, and separately with the Lucas County Board of Commissioners, over a year ago—the same fight in a different layer of government.

Ten Years Before Flock

In 2015, I stood next to then-Sheriff John Tharp when he rolled out the county’s first body cameras. I approached him worried about the number of unarmed Black folks dying at police hands nationally — Freddie Gray had just died in Baltimore. 

Tharp listened and quickly responded by putting 17 cameras on his deputies. He said plainly: “We’re not going to be covering up anything.” Toledo followed his lead not long after. So, this community knows how to get ahead of an issue before it becomes a crisis. We’ve done it before.

I sat across from Sheriff Mike Navarre over a year ago and discussed maps where law enforcement typically places Flock automatic license plate reading cameras (ALPRs) to help solve crimes.  It’s always wherever law enforcement already watches most closely. 

I told him 30 days was long enough to hold footage not needed for a case, and that specific secure protocols be established for accessing the files. He also could establish a citizen review board to provide real oversight. 

I made the same case to the Lucas County Board of Commissioners not long after. Both times, I got a lot of nodding and seeming agreement followed by draft policies that fall way short of what is expected.

That was Lucas County’s perhaps “good faith effort.” 

However, last week’s fight belonged to a different governmental entity — the City of Toledo, its own council, and its own separate Flock program. Yet, the same technology, same questions, and nothing, that I am aware of, suggesting the city ever asked the county what it already knows.

County Commissioner Pete Gerken’s own staff found over 900,000 searches on the county’s camera data in one month, run by more than 3,200 outside agencies — most of them nobody elected, and half of them nobody’s heard of. 

And that’s after Brandon Upchurch got bit by a police K-9 after Flock misidentified his vehicle. That’s only one instance of a myriad of mistakes our call for public error reporting was built to catch. Not to mention opportunities for misuse and abuse.

I’m not saying the technology is no good — it has helped push Toledo’s homicide solve rate from 59 percent to 86, and that matters. But technology with this much reach obviously needs guardrails before the damage lands in a courtroom, a hospital bill, or worse. 

Meetings Are Free

This is what I know. Municipal government doesn’t resist a good idea — it just never lets a conversation become a commitment until it has no other choice. 

I sat with Navarre. I sat with the Commissioners. I’ve met with City of Toledo officials dozens of times on dozens of issues. Every time, the response is the same: nodding, real interest, but very seldom anything binding.

That’s not their failure. It’s the strategy: to wait you out. They know that we holler loud, but not long. So, they stall until it is quiet again by holding meeting after meeting and meeting you to death, never intending to produce results, thinking you will just move on. Why? Because a meeting costs them nothing. A policy costs something.

It took three hours of residents packing a chamber this week to make the city treat the Flock camera issue as more than talk. That’s apparently what it takes to turn a conversation into a decision.

But now it is time for Toledo to — not only talk the talk — but walk the walk. Adopt the framework itself that the county has had a year’s head start on the problem areas: equitable placement, real data limits, public reporting, real citizen oversight, written into the ordinance, not studied to death. 

Toledo doesn’t need another meeting. It needs a signature.

Contact Rev. Donald Perryman, PhD, at drdlperryman@centerofhopebaptist.org 

La”Shardae Scott Honors Sickle Cell Warriors During Annual 5k Walk/Run

By Alexandria Leatherberry

The Truth Reporter

The Scott Center for Observation, Treatment and Transition held its second 5k walk/run to raise awareness of Sickle Cell Disease and honor those who have navigated living with Sickle Cell Disease. Led by La’Shardae Scott, DSW,  S.C.O.T.T. organization hosted the Heal Together: Race for Sickle Cell at Ottawa Park to share, inform and bring forward the accomplishments that have been made for those living with sickle cell. 

Prior to runners taking off, Scott centered attention on the organization’s honorees for this year. Honorable recognition was given to Councilwoman Brittany Jones, DSW, for Community Impact; Beta Phi Sigma Chapter of Phi Beta Sigma Fraternity, Inc. and Zeta Xi Zeta Chapter of Zeta Phi Beta Sorority, Inc for Community Partnership. 

Tributes for lives that have been impacted by sickle cell disease were held for recognition as well. Recognized as Sickle Cell Warrior of the Year, Ty’Kela Smith, a survivor, shared her personal story of resilience and transforming her diagnosis into a mission now leading Sick Cell Awareness-Toledo as president. 

Smith, the Sickle Cell Warrior of the Year, was diagnosed when she was six months old with the disease and doctors did not anticipate her living to adulthood. Sickle cell, a disease primarily limited to the African American community and a few other communities of color, does not have a track record of being widely understood by the medical establishment. When she was born, doctors accused her parents of stealing the child because, unlike them she was so light-skinned as a result of the disease, said Smith. 

The doctors certainly didn’t expect her to reach adulthood. She did indeed reach childhood but not without a lot of pain and suffering along the way. She was in and out of hospitals frequently. She participated in activities such as sports but always had to be careful especially in the winter. Cold weather is not a blessing for the sickle cell patient.

She grew up and eventually became pregnant. Her doctor, her hematologist, insisted that she have an abortion. He said that neither she nor a baby could expect to survive and thrive. He also said that if she persisted, he would no longer treat her. She persisted and he walked away.

Smith’s daughter, Zy’Naijah, is now 16 years old and although Zy’Naijah carries the trait, she does not have the sickle cell disease.

But Smith’s difficulties as a sickle cell warrior have continued into adulthood. Pain is frequent and intense. She is obligated to travel to the Cleveland Clinic once a month for treatment and to Sandusky twice a week. The doctor who had been treating her up until almost three years ago moved to the Cleveland Clinic and his successor at ProMedica here did not believe that Smith was in much pain and declined to continue the treatment previously prescribed and also informed the staff in the emergency room not to treat her as before, said Smith. So, it’s to Sandusky and to Cleveland to receive treatment

Ty’Kela Smith is indeed a warrior.

Following Smith’s testimony, the Lifetime Achievement Award was presented to Cheryl L.Jones for her work within the Ohio Department of Health and contributions to advancing health care patient experiences. Her accomplishments did not come without her own experience of navigating the effects of sickle cell which she led a moment of silence for, honoring her late son, Jordan. 

The severity of sickle cell complications was shared by the Winged Warrior Tribute, Judge Myron Duhart. The judge graciously shared the legacy of family members who have departed  due to sickle cell. Duhart honored the achievements of his mother, Patricia Maddox-Duhart, as well as her siblings Donald Maddox and Constance Maddox. 

In spite of their early life transition, Duhart emphasized the acquired higher education, community involvement, and commitment to service his family carried, even in the face of crisis. Judge Durhart has previously rarely spoken about the details of his family’s loss because the grief was too painful, but chose to share more with platforms advocating for better care for those living with sickle cell. 

La’Shardae Scott has tirelessly built her platform from navigating her own experience of her two sons who live with sickle cell. Through education, advocacy, outreach and supportive programming, S.C.O.T.T. seeks to help others navigate health-related challenges and life transitions while strengthening resource connections. Scott has developed programs focused on helping patients transition from pediatric to adult care. Her work has included partnerships with Ohio hospitals and collaboration with the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. 

Scott previously served as Sickle Cell Director for the Neighborhood Health Sickle Cell Project of Northwest Ohio and has continued expanding community awareness through events, educational programs and advocacy. Scott has positioned the S.C.O.T.T. ‘s presence at the intersection of healthcare, advocacy, and community leadership. 

Just before the walk began on Saturday, she was recognized by State Rep. Erika White and Senator Paula Hick-Hudson for her work as well as support of legislative progression. Connect and get involved with the center at scottcenteroh.org.

Opinion: Soldiers Without Swords

By Rev. Donald L. Perryman, Ph.D.

The Truth Contributor

The Toledo Blade might not exist by January unless somebody buys it — ending a run that started in 1835, two years before Toledo was even a city. A former editor called the paper “the glue” that held this town together, whether people loved it or hated it. He’s right. The Blade’s closing would represent a tragic loss to our city and deserves real grief first and foremost.

But Toledo didn’t invent the question the potential closure raises. Black folks in this country have been answering it since before the Blade’s first edition ever ran.

Too Long Have Others Spoken for Us

In 1827, John Russwurm and Samuel Cornish published the nation’s first Black-owned newspaper — eight years before the Blade existed, 10 years before Toledo was even a city. Papers were everywhere already. What wasn’t out there was a paper that saw Black people as anything other than a crime story or nothing at all. So, Russwurm and Cornish built one and said exactly why in their first issue: “We wish to plead our own cause. Too long have others spoken for us.”

That declaration held. Sixty-some years later, a mob in Memphis burned Ida B. Wells’s printing press to the ground because she wrote the truth about lynching and wouldn’t stop. She didn’t stop. She left town, kept writing and got her reporting into the New York Age instead — the same white-owned papers that wouldn’t print the word “lynching” couldn’t stop her from finding another way to say it.

Soldiers Without Swords

During World War II, the Pittsburgh Courier ran a campaign called Double V — victory over fascism in Europe, victory over racism at home, treated as the same fight because they were the same fight. The government’s answer was to call it treason. J. Edgar Hoover pushed the Justice Department to indict the Black press outright, branding its publishers and reporters “soldiers without swords.” 

When the attorney general actually looked at what the Black press had printed, he found no case for treason and refused to bring charges — so the presses kept running. That contemptuous insult stuck around longer than Hoover’s investigation did. Stanley Nelson used it as the title of his 1998 documentary on the Black press, and I borrowed it from there, too.

Hoover meant it as disrespect — men and women doing something that looked like combat without the legitimacy of an actual weapon. But he “got it twisted,” because a sword can be taken from you, sold out from under you, handed off to a corporation’s balance sheet. What Russwurm and Cornish started in 1827 never depended on any one printing press surviving. The Blade just lost its sword. The soldiers who never carried one are still standing.

Putting Itself Out of Business

Once the civil rights movement finally forced white papers to hire Black reporters and cover Black communities as something other than a crime blotter, Black newspaper circulation declined. It looked, on paper, like the fight to be seen and heard had finally been won — like the Black press had worked its way out of a job by winning it.

It wasn’t. Toledo proved that this month. The city slipped a produce market contract to a corporate distributor behind the backs of the Black growers who had already been feeding Englewood and Junction for years. The Blade didn’t write the piece calling that what it actually was — “institutional racism dressed up as community investment.” The Sojourner’s Truth did! And from a Black contributor, on a fraction of the Blade’s budget.

Toledo should still grieve if The Blade passes away. Without a well-staffed newsroom, it is impossible to hold every corner of Toledo’s government accountable. Our community deserves that, and no single Black paper, including this one, has the staff to replace it. 

But don’t let the grief convince you this city will go quiet. It was never going to be silent. Two hundred years before this month, somebody already answered the question of what a community does when the record it’s handed leaves it out — it builds its own, and keeps building it, in public, with its name attached.

Of every institution this country has ever produced, none moved social and political change further than the Black press.

Support this paper. Read it, share it, subscribe to it. Tell your council member and other political leaders you saw it here first.

Contact Rev. Donald Perryman, PhD at drdlperryman@centerofhopebaptist.org

Suzette and George Cowell Celebrate 50 Years of Love and Life

A golden anniversary filled with family, friendship, music and memories

By Valerie Simmons-Walston

Guest Contributor

Love was in the air as more than 150 family members and friends gathered at the Gesu Conference Hall on Saturday, September 12, to celebrate an extraordinary milestone – 50 years of marriage for George and Suzette Cowell, ThD.

The evening was more than an anniversary celebration – it was a tribute to five decades of love, family, friendship and a life bult together.

The celebration began on a beautiful note as the Cowells made their grand entrance to Natalie Cole’s classic “inseparable,” a fitting tribute for a couple whose lives have been intertwined for half a century.

Music continued to tell the story of their love throughout the evening. Big Woo delivered a special performance of two songs that were played at the Cowells’ wedding 50 years ago:  “Love Don’t Love Nobody” and “You Are My Starship.” The performance was a surprise for George, lovingly arranged by his bride, Suzette.

One of the evening’s most touching moments came during “You Are My Starship,” when the emcee invited other couples in attendance to join the Cowells on the dance floor. Soon, the floor was filled with couples celebrating not only George and Suzette’s marriage, but also the enduring power of love and commitment.

Their children and grandchildren offered heartfelt well wishes, sharing memories and words of appreciation for the example of love and family the Cowells have provided over the years. Friends also came from near and far to honor the couple, including one special friend from California to be part of the celebration.

The memorable moments continued as Darius Coleman serenaded the couple while they cut their 50th anniversary cake, adding another special tough to an evening filled with music and emotion.

Perhaps one of the most memorable reflections of the night came from George Cowell himself. He shared that his mother was 53 years old on the day that he and Suzette were married. Fifty years later, she was there once again – this time to witness and help celebrate their golden wedding anniversary.

It was a powerful reminder of the generations, memories and blessings represented in the room.

For Suzette and George Cowell, the evening celebrated much more than a date on the calendar, it honored 50 years of choosing one another, building family, creating memories and traveling through life side-by-side.

Surrounded by more than 150 people who have been touched by their lives, the Cowells celebrated a milestone few couple are fortunate enough to experience. 

“I am ecstatic that my brother-in-law, George, whom I have loved unconditionally for years now, because of the way he has loved my sister and the compassion he has given her,” Tina Butts, Suzette’s sister, told The Truth. “He has given her everything she has ever asked for and on top of all that love, the beautiful nephews and nieces they have blessed me with. I have been so honored to walk in their footsteps along with God. Happy Anniversary!”

Fifty years. One love. One life built together.

It was truly an evening to celebrate love – and a good time was has by all.

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