Drama Queens - Work in Progress: Jonathan Capehart

Episode Date: September 3, 2025

Pulitzer Prize–winning journalist Jonathan Capehart opens up about his extraordinary life and his latest book, “Yet Here I Am: Lessons from a Black Man’s Search for Home.”  He takes us from the tension of straddling two very different worlds—urban New Jersey and rural North Carolina—to the complexities of race, queerness, and identity in America’s shifting landscape.  Plus, Jonathan explains why he feels obligated to share his opinions, even when others in his industry are blasted for doing the same.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

This is an I-Heart podcast. Hi, everyone. It's Sophia. Welcome to Work in Progress. Hello, Whipsmarties. Do we have a smart one for you today? On this episode of Work in Progress, I am sitting down with a Pulitzer Prize winning writer, editor, and TV host. Today's guest is none other than Jonathan Capehart, who is here to recount powerful stories, certainly from his career, but also from his brand new book.

The book is called, Yet Here I Am, Lessons from a Black Man's Search for Home, and it is the most magnificent grouping of tales from his life about embracing identities, picking battles, seizing opportunity and finding his voice. And he manages to do something which must only be possible because of what an exceptional journalist he is, which is tell the most unique and raw and personal story and somehow set his milestones against not only his personal history, but our history is a country.

And in the most beautiful way, I came to admire Jonathan even more, came to feel even more passionate about this experiment we're in here, guys. The American experiment are great democracy. From really profound musings on what it was like to shuttle back and forth between New Jersey and rural North Carolina to contemplating the complexities of race and identity and queerness as they all shifted around him, Jonathan really brings us into his lessons on learning to bridge two worlds and finding his place. There are hilarious stories about how he's got his first internship at the Today Show

and incredibly heartwarming tales about his love for his family and his journey to his own self-discovery. Let's sit down with Jonathan K. Part. I get to sit across from so many fascinating people like yourself, and I think about the long list of resume, you know, items, accolades, accomplishments for you a Pulitzer Prize. I like to rewind because people know you and they know what you do, but I'm curious about, and it really does feel relevant for your book, I suppose, especially, I'm curious about your childhood and more so if you and I got to go back in time together right now and hang out with

you at eight or nine years old, would you recognize so many things about the man you are today and that little boy? That's a great question. I think I would, Sophia, simply because, you know, when you're a little kid, you're naive about the world. In a lot of ways you see things in black and white, because that's what you're taught. You know, this is good, this is bad, this is right, this is wrong. And so I think I took that sort of learning and teaching and upbringing and brought it to my job, which is a journalist. Yeah.

And an opinion journalist at that, where we are, it is our job to not just report, but then to say, what's right, what's wrong, what's good, what's bad, who's good, who's bad. And so I think younger me would recognize present day, older, older me. But I think what younger me would find fascinating is how I took younger me's dream and turned it into reality. Yes. Knowing full well that younger me had these dreams, but no roadmap at all for how to reach them.

Right. Well, and being a young boy who grew up in New Jersey, you know, shout out to the fam. You write in your book so beautifully about these. summers that you would go and spend with your grandmother. Can you tell our friends at home a little bit about that, about how your life prior to you knowing how you were going to make your dreams come true, how your life sort of existed between two spaces? So during the school year, I, you know, lived in New Jersey, first in Newark, New Jersey, where I was born, and then North Plainfield,

and then Haslett, New Jersey, shout out, Monmouth County. But then in the summers until I was 12, I spent them in North Carolina, in rural eastern North Carolina with my maternal grandparents. And in the north, I went to Catholic school, particularly the first through fourth grade. And then in those summers, with my grandmother, I would go out witnessing with my grandmother. my grandmother was a Jehovah's Witness. So, you know, still a sect of Christianity, but way different than the Catholic school at St. Rose of Lima. So spending those summers in North Carolina, you know, in hindsight, you know, with the

eyes of a 50-something-year-old man, I now realize we're foundational to how I view, how I view the world, how I view race, how I view, to a certain extent, religion, simply by being in, you know, a Jim Crow relic of a small town, just by going witnessing with my grandmother to houses of almost always African Americans. And then not realizing until I was writing the book, well, why was that? Well, because grandma was witnessing basically in the backyard. of the Nat Turner Rebellion that, you know, sent shockwaves and fears through white people, not just in that area where grandma was, but across the country, the ripple effects of that, you know, we're still dealing with today.

So that's the sort of split existence that you were referring to and, you know, what my early childhood summers were like. It gave me such perspective on you and your life. And reading about those really formative years for you also made me very self-reflective because I remember at 21 moving to Wilmington, North Carolina, and really wanting to get to know the area and driving around and being so taken aback as I got further and further out from city centers. into more rural parts of North Carolina in 2003 because I grew up in the heart of Los Angeles

in a very diverse community and my dad is an immigrant and my mother's mother was an immigrant and my mom's whole family as we've bonded over a little all from around New Jersey and New York you know Newark is incredibly diverse and New York is incredibly diverse and I got to a place in our country where I realized for the first time that a lot of the history I'd studied was still immediately evident in my present geography and I just hadn't experienced that in these big metropolitan city centers And it is quite surreal knowing what I immediately understood about America then, and then reading you talk about being in these communities, understanding the dignity people deserved, learning about humility, and also you write about the fact that you're the first in your generation to never have worked picking cotton. Our history, I mean, it's right here and it's still present.

And I just think you've done this gorgeous job reminding people of that through your story. Were those conversations you were having with your family at that time? Or did some of those heavier historical to present day topics wait until you were a little older? those heavy topics waited until i was writing to this book it's not we weren't discussing these things you know during those summers or even as i got older it was more when i was writing when i was when i was when i was writing um what originally was called the down south chapter. I was remembering how after my grandmother's funeral, we were all in the, you know, the funeral limousines riding back from the Kingdom Hall service to the Baptist church graveyard

where the family is buried. And as we drove on these country roads, listening to my aunt, my mom and my aunts and uncles who were in the car reminisce about picking cotton in a particular field or just fields in general and talking about how, you know, oh, you remember, you know, how, you know, we have to get up so early in the morning and we picked cotton and, you know, sometimes we would add water to the bag and to make it heavier because we got paid more that way or how they, were able to keep the youngest of the siblings on Annie and Uncle Linwood, how they were able to from time to time keep them from having to go out into the fields to work. And as I write in the book, and as you point out, you know, it wasn't until I was writing that I realized that my cousin Rita

and I were the first generation in our family that didn't have to do that. We didn't have to, When we went down for the summer, we didn't have to go into the field and pick cotton or tobacco or soybeans for money. We did go into the fields and pick butter beans and things like that. But that was for food. You know, we go and pick and then sit and snap peas and stuff like that. But that was just, you know, for food. that what our relatives did was for was money for the family and you know you put a you put your finger on it and when you went to Wilmington North Carolina that the stuff that you had read about was just so

immediate and I keep trying to remind people and that's why I put that line in there about generation because history isn't history for a lot of people it's lived experience Yes. Within their memory of having experienced these things. And so, you know, it's the reporter in me that wanted to not just tell my story, but ground it and root it into, you know, you've read about this. Well, hey, let me tell you right here. This is how my story fits into that larger story.

Well, and what you've helped to do is contextualize and personalize it. You know, when people try to distance us from history, something that feels really important for me to point out, especially in the backdrop of us now seeing, you know, the National Guard deployed to my home city, in gross violation of the Constitution, I may say, when I think about the last time a president had to deploy the National Guard to protect black students being integrated into schools. I have to remind people who ask me why I care about this stuff so much. Ruby Bridgers is younger than my mother. Right. You know, that could be my mother. She is someone's mother. It's not this happened, oh, hundreds of years ago and we get to pretend.

It's in a chapter of a book, it's directly in our rearview mirror. This is our lifetime. this is people's lived experience and something I appreciate so much as a journalism nerd who as you know I'm going to tell the people at home when Jonathan and I first met I was deeply uncool I totally geeked out on you and you were so sweet and I couldn't get over the fact that you offered to exchange information with me I was like what do I do and then I remember weeks later our friend who introduced us, said, have you texted him yet? And I go, what am I going to text Jonathan K. Part?

And she goes, I don't know. Hi. And so I just have to say, like, you know, it's so lovely to have you on the podcast. And we've obviously spent more time together since, and hopefully I'm less weird. But as a person who believes so emotionally, really, in the sanctity and importance of journalism, your book manages to be such a beautiful memoir, but you tell your personal story in a way that makes all of our history feel so close. And it's a really important reminder. And you've just done something gorgeous. So thank you for all of it.

Oh, thank you, Sophia, for that. You know, when I sat down, it was in 2017 that I sat down to write the first words that have now become this book. And I did it as a way of escaping for a little bit, Trump won. Just for a few days. I just decided I had these stories in my head from Summers down south that had been rumbling up there for years. And I thought, okay, today is the day

I'm going to sit down. Now I'm just going to write the stories. And I did it over a long weekend. Where did you start? I started with, I think probably started with going witnessing with grandma, just starting to, you know, write that down what that was like and you know for me it was telling it was just getting those

stories out and i wasn't sure if there was a book there or anything i just wanted to get these stories out and i i sent them to some really good friends and i i sent them to um specifically to joy read april ryan and tamperin hall And I just like, hey, here, would you mind reading this? Tell me what you think. And they all wrote back, keep going. And April Ryan not only said, keep going, but she said, you've got to tell your story. There is a book here.

Keep going. Keep writing. And so it took a long time, but I kept writing. And as I wrote, as I was writing my story, again, the reporter brain kicked in to say, hey, you were born in July 1967, whoa, the 64 Civil Rights Act was enacted exactly three years before you, three years before you were born.

Yeah. The 65 Voting Rights Act was voted, Johnson signed it less than two years before you were born. And so you were born. into this quote-unquote, not post-civil rights America, but in America where I am my cousin, first generation that didn't have to pick cotton, but I was also part of the first generation of black kids

to live in a country where the words of the Constitution applied to all of us equally. And what that meant. So when I'm writing about being the only black kid in predominantly white schools or one of a few or, you know, as I go through my career, of course, you got to, I'm trying to ground it

in, hey, as I'm living this life, watching the Brady Bunch and the Today Show, this was also happening in the background so that it informs you why I'm thinking this way and writing this way. And, you know, I do think, and I'm glad you're validating my approach, Sophia, because there were points when I thought, oh, I'm getting too heavy into the history. I'm getting too heavy in the news. And instead, I think by doing that, I've made, not only made my story accessible just in terms of me, but also places it in ways that people think, oh, oh, now I understand. That makes sense. That makes more sense.

And now a word from our sponsors who make this show possible. I think about how frustrating it can be for me as a woman to always have to remind people of what women are up against. For me as a queer person, you know, to have, whether it was in allyship for so long, or in full identity, talk about, no, you do treat queer people differently in this country. And I think about that for you. You know, you as a black man who was born in 1967, who has seen this family history,

who has seen America's history, who's watching this backsliding of democracy, you carry your people. And I imagine sometimes you don't want to have to always talk about what like to be a black man or what it's like to be a gay man. How do you, how do you figure out that balance? Because you talk in the book about sometimes you get accused of being too black. Sometimes you get accused of being not black enough. It's like if you're not the rich white guy, you're you're either something or nothing all the time. And I'm really curious about how that experience is something you have navigated.

for yourself as a public figure who belongs to multiple, you know, marginalized groups. Well, you know, I think it goes back to from, you know, my earliest memories of, you know, I write in the book how I viewed myself as a result of that history I just talked about. I viewed myself as an ambassador to the race. And so given the time that we were in, also I've, was the only child of a widow. And so when you're an only child, all you're doing, especially at that age, is trying to make friends.

You're doing everything you can to make friends. And so you put all that together, and I have this ambassadorial hat. So I take on this weight willingly. Almost everyone else, it's thrust. upon them, this weight of being the own, representing. And a lot of people resent it. And I totally get it. But for me, it was, I'm the ambassador,

so let's go, let's go make friends. Let's try to make these bonds of understanding. Let me show them, since I'm probably the only live black person they have ever met. Let's try to dispel some myths. Let them get to know. me. And, you know, and that's mostly in the, in the black realm, in the gay realm, it's a completely, it's a different thing. But, you know, it was a job that I took on willingly. And I

understand, you know, people viewing it as a, as a weight. I certainly view it as a weight, maybe even a burden. But again, it was one that I took on willingly. As I write in the book, though, it took me too long to understand and to appreciate and realize that not everybody is as into my ambassador role as I am. And that was a tough, that was a tough thing for me to contend with. And I had to contend with it while writing the book, because what I wanted above all else, you know, In addition to telling my story, I wanted to be honest. I wanted to be introspective. I wanted to be raw and vulnerable and revealing.

And so when I write about how I learned how to be black and white spaces, where I learned I could be too black, not black enough. Or in some instances, folks didn't want me to be black at all. The same thing can be said, you know, be engaged. There were folks who are like, you're too gay, you're not gay enough. Well, do you have to talk about it? And in this job, you know, I've been on an editorial board, nine years at the New York Daily News, 15 at the Washington Post. That's a quarter century. And when you are an editorial writer, you are, whether you want to acknowledge it or not, you are an ambassador for whatever

If you belong to, whether you want to acknowledge them or not, then you come to the table because we're discussing all sorts of issues. And when you are the only black person at the table or you're the only queer person at the table or you're the only black queer person at the table, whether you want to or not, some situation is going to happen where you are going to have to say, my lived experience. says this. And I don't care what white paper you've read, what studies you've read, what the reporting says, I can tell you from my reporting plus my own, my lived experience, this is the way this is going to be viewed, or how it is viewed, or how it was viewed. And so that's, that is

an ambassadorial role. That is one that, you know, whether I wanted to or not, And as I've said multiple times, I did, that was part of the job. That weight, that burden was part of the job. And so, you know, in this job, it's also, and I recognize, an incredible privilege to be able to sit at those tables and not be the voice of Black America or the voice of queer America, but to be the voice of beach community at the at that particular table you talk about how you knew so young that you wanted to do this um you know being being at a at a family member's retirement party uh and saying i want to be a journalist where did that come from and and can you tell the folks at home a little bit about that story about how you got your first internship so so um i was the family tattletale

I told everybody's business. There was nothing. If I heard something, I would repeat it. And, you know, and I write in the book about how I, you know, in incredible fashion, repeated something, not even repeated, delivered some news that was not welcome. And so fast forward, my uncle McKinley Branch, who worked. at NBC as an electrician at 30 Rock said to me, no, I'm going to work, you should turn on the Today Show. I'm going to try to get in front of the camera

because they're doing work on the plaza and I'm going to try to wave. So I turn on the Today Show, I'm watching, looking for Uncle McKinley. Instead, I'm watching this show where these people told other people's business. that was their job. And so I was fascinated by this job.

And the more I watched, the more I got into what these people were doing, what they were reporting, where they were reporting from. And so I was, you know, a huge nerd. I had maps all over my walls at home. And so when I watched the news, I would spin around and look on my, map of the United States or my map of the world or particular country is to see where the action was happening. So I was a total complete news nerd. I had my interview, my college interview for Carlton. They did some in New York at the Hilton. And when it was over, I called my uncle McKinley at 30 Rock and said, hey, I'm just up the street. Can I come visit? He says, great. So I go visit. He said,

you're just in time I have work to do in the nightly news office. Again, news nerd, I'm thinking I'm going to meet the greats. I'm going to meet Brocah. I'm going to meet Chancellor. I'm going to meet Utley, all these people. They get there and there's no one around. Absolutely no one around except this one woman sitting at her desk and I worked up the car. My uncle had me sit on this sofa facing this, you know, woman while he did the work in the office. And I worked up the courage to talk to her. And she told me her name as Anskakaltarian. And she worked on Knightley.

And you see a little kid sitting in front of you. You ask, well, what do you want to be when you grow up? And I said, well, I want to be Moscow correspondent for NBC News. And then after that, I'm trying to decide whether I want to be White House correspondent or go to the London Bureau. If I go to the London Bureau, then I definitely want to then go to the White House. And then after that, I want to come to New York and be anchor of the Today Show. And I don't, I can only imagine the look on my face if I had heard that. But my uncle comes back and he says, okay, it's time to go.

I thanked her for answering my questions. And then she said to me, wait a minute. And then she opened the drawer, pulled out an NVC notepad. wrote down the name Kay Bradley, her phone number. And then with a flourish, rips off the paper and says, here, get yourself an internship on the Today Show. That moment is like step number two or number three in the journey that leads us to talking right now. That started my career. Yeah. It's so incredible. I just love it. I love that you had a full life itinerary ready for her. And she was like, damn, this kid actually knows what he's talking about. We should probably hire him. It's so amazing.

The more I think about it, the more I realize and I talk to other people, that I was insane. Yeah. 99.99.999% of the world does not have an idea of what they want to do and how they want to do it or where they want to do it. And it took me a long time to understand that that's not how the world works and that's not how people work. So that's another thing that I had to realize as I was writing this, being mindful and knowing the fact that I was crazy. I love it. You just knew. And now a word from our sponsors. A calling is different than a job. And it's so clear that this has always been a calling for you.

And I would wager that it's part of why your presence in journalism feels so powerful. I think it's why you're so good at gathering people to listen because they can feel how much you care. You know, it's interesting that you use the word calling because I've started using that word, particularly after we, you know, made our way through Trump One, you know, people started coming up to me during the first Trump administration and saying things to me that I had only heard said to members of the military, and that was, thank you for your service. And the first time it happened, it took my breath away because, I was like, no, I'm not, I'm just a journalist. I'm not a member of the military. And it just kept happening more and more. And then I began to understand that, oh, I get what people mean. You know, we're the only profession that is specifically protected in the Constitution.

Our job is to inform the citizenry so that they can uphold the, democracy. But the calling aspect of it really came into shape for me as I realized that to to your point, this isn't a job. I like doing what I'm doing because I like to talk to people. I like to highlight their stories. I like to highlight, you know, specific people or specific issues, shine a light on people or issues where no light is being shown and to just have people

know and understand. And I tell young people who ask, you know, is this profession I should get into? I say, absolutely. But you have to feel it here. You can't get into this profession if your goal is to be famous or to be rich. That might be a byproduct, but don't count on that. You get into this profession because there are stories you want to tell. Yes.

People you want to highlight. Communities you want to highlight. Issues you want to highlight that you truly care about and that you either have expertise or you're gaining the expertise and you want to use use the skill that comes with journalism,

use the platform that comes with journalism to get your work out there. Yeah. You do it because it's what gets you out of bed in the morning. You jump out, you fly out of bed to go to a job that doesn't feel like a job but pays you barely the minimum. And when you leave the office

or when that story hits online or in the paper or over-the-air waves or on YouTube, however people are getting their news, and it's out there, that pride, that sense of accomplishment that you get after doing something like that, and then hearing from people, how they're reacting to your work,

that's why folks should be going into journalism. That's why it's a calling. Yeah. I understand that. it's it's not technically my profession but studying journalism in college alongside theater and falling down just the interest rabbit hole of political science I can see when I look back oh I was always destined to use the platform from my day job for my calling to organize community and you know

it's not lost on me that that was very hard for a lot of people in Trump One. People who, you know, do it for passion like me or for passion and career like you. A lot of people got very nervous to continue speaking up. And it really strikes me in this term too

watching the president of the United States go after a free press, you know, watching Terry Moran get fired from ABC for expressing his personal opinion that someone in government is harming people who live in this country, which I do not believe is incorrect. I believe, I mean his opinion, obviously I believe what's happening is incorrect and wildly awful. But how do you make sense of that and how do you stay brave?

I'm still that naive kid who believes in right and wrong, good or bad. Me too. And I happen to be in a position where, and have a career where my job is to, you know, be able to say what I think is right or wrong, good or bad. And so that's what keeps me grounded. That's what keeps me focused, you know, despite all the glitter bombs he's throwing up in the air to distract us. And even though those glitter bombs are, you know, can be, you know, rhetorically lethal in the sense that, you know, to distract us from the feud with Elon Musk, there are National Guard troops in Los Angeles over the objections of the governor. Yeah. But because of that naivete, I still can keep my eye on the goal or on what the true issue is.

And so that's how I'm able to just stay focused and stay clear and stay clearheaded. I'm also, you know, I learned in Trump One to keep my imagination wide open because if I can imagine it, it could possibly happen. And so nothing, I might be shocked by some things, but I most definitely will not be surprised by most things. And, you know, when it comes to Terry Moran, there's a distinction that I think folks need to understand. And there's a, Terry Moran and I are both journalists. But we're in different camps of journalism. I'm in the opinion camp. I can say all the things he said in that tweet.

I could say them. I might get in trouble, but not in the trouble that he got in. Terry, on the other hand, is a straight news reporter, meaning his job is to go in, as he did, interview the president of the United States. Not call balls and strikes, just here's the news, straight up news.

I remember my co-host, Eugene Daniels, he showed me the tweet before we went on air. And I remember reading and going, oh, my God, what's, whoa, that is out there for Terry Moran, for a straight news journalist to do that. Not that he wrote anything that I thought was, you know, I found objectionable in terms of, of opinion. But where he got into trouble was expressing his opinion about people. His job is to cover objectively. So when during our show, Eugene said, oh, looks like he deleted the tweet. I understood why. Then he got suspended. I understood why. And now that he, you know, he's been fired or separated, again, I understand why from the network's perspective, but I guarantee you, we will see Terry Moran back doing something in our profession in some way, shape, or form,

because he is an excellent journalist. Yeah. A superb journalist. And it's unfortunate that he is at a minimum right now, not with us in the profession, but I would be shocked if he's not back somewhere. Thank you for that perspective. I really appreciate it. It's, I think as a, you know, constituent as a citizen who, yes, is a news nerd, but again, I don't. I don't get paid for doing any version of, you know, my own coverage. It's hard to watch something like that happen to a journalist of that caliber. And then, you know, watch someone like a Tucker Carlson spend years lying to his audience,

spouting Kremlin propaganda, and, you know, calling the union folks in the entertainment industry, the elites while he was making like what was it 46 million a year or something insane like i've never known a person who's made that in a lifetime what are you talking about so it's um i doubt most of us have you know it's it's hard to feel like there is such a high standard on the side that actually believes in the constitution and in the democratic principles of the country versus the side that claims they love the laws but violate them every day. How is that something you navigate as a journalist? Because, you know, you've got to be out in these streets with folks from CNN to MSNBC to Fox News.

So, like, how do you try to not only maintain your humanity in the way you move through the world, but with that kind of naivete, if you will, do you really try to apply that to others? Like, how do you do it? Because I don't know if I could be nice to everybody in your profession. If I was in your profession, you know what I mean? Right, yeah. Oh, I hear you on that.

Okay. Yeah, no, it's not easy. But I will say this, again, I view my job to be a truth teller. My job is to, whether I'm writing in a column or I'm on my show on the weekend, my job is to tell the truth. But my number one constituent or constituency is my audience. the way the media has fractured now, they're not just reading particular newspapers or magazines or watching particular channels and television shows.

Folks are gravitating to specific individual journalists. And as a result, why are they going to these specific journalists? Because they trust them. And for me, I, you know, And I've been at this for 30 years. And so I built up, I would like to think, some credibility with my audience. And coming to terms with that and understanding that also means I have to have a level of respect for my audience that I think they have for me, which means respecting their intelligence. Yeah.

in addition to respecting their intelligence, giving them the rhetorical and factual information and ammunition they need when talking to friends, colleagues, relatives, who might be on the other side of the ideological divide, and you know they're not either telling the truth or they're spouting things that they've heard from, other outlets, which you know are not true. Yes. I tried one time watching Fox News Channel. This was back in 2016 when my husband said, you know, we should be, we really should be watching Fox from time to time just to hear what they're saying. And so I finally said, okay, fine, fine, fine, let's sit down, let's watch. I don't even remember who it was.

I do remember how long I lasted. Not even 30 minutes, maybe even less. Why? Because each segment they did. Because, you know, it's a news show. I'm on top of the news. I've done my own reporting. I knew they were lying.

Yeah. I knew they were shading the truth. How did everything, every segment they did miraculously found its way back. to Hillary Clinton. Again, this was 2016. And so I got so tired of yelling at the TV. I just said to my husband, I'm out of here. Yeah, I got to be done. I'm done. I can't, I can't do it. And what makes that so troubling isn't so much that I couldn't take watching Fox News. It's that Fox News is still then and still today, the number one cable channel in the country. Yeah.

By multiples. And so I'm sitting there as a person who believes that 2 plus 2 equals 4 knows that 2.2 equals 4 and then having to walk away from a channel where more than half the country is watching where they're being fed a daily diet at night during the opinion shows. a daily diet of two plus two equals five and anyone who tells you that it's four is a danger to the nation and that is what's so what's so troubling about just one piece of what's so troubling about where we are as a country but also you know my profession the journalism and profession under enormous, enormous pressure, both from, you know, culturally, what I was

just talking about, a president who continues to say that we are the enemy of the people, while at the same time being in a profession that has been going through it when it comes to technology and trying to, you know, losing audience and trying to figure out how do we get the audience back and then trying to figure out, okay, they're not going to come. back in the ways we want them to, how do we reach, how do we go where they're going? Yes. So that put all of that together and you've got a profession that is under enormous, enormous strain. Yeah. It's scary as a, you know, a citizen, again, just one of the concerned ones looking

from the outside. I love that you use the two plus two as four analogy. It's one of my favorites. You know, it really relates for me to the fact that there are no facts versus alternative facts. There are just facts. Science is science. 2 plus 2 does equal 4. That is settled, period, end of story. And I am very grateful for those of you who care enough about the nation to try to lead it honestly. I think about how exposed you are when you are a public figure like yourself. And one of the things that touched me so much about the book

is it really feels like you just decided to go there. Like you leaned all the way in, knowing what it's like to have your life looked at on this big, big great stage. How did you invite more of that in? That was easy. Because back in 1999, 2000, I read Catherine Graham's autobiography, personal history. At the time, Kay Graham was the most powerful woman in journalism as the publisher of the Washington Post.

She was one of the most powerful women in the country as a result of that. And here comes this book that she wrote where she is open. vulnerable, raw, honest, about her insecurities, about her fraught relationship with her mother, about her questioning whether she could hold her family together after her husband died, whether she was good enough to lead the Washington Post. I thought this is amazing that this powerful person would put themselves out there for all of us to see, like really see. You could understand her having a book out there half its size and saying nothing. And yet she decided to tell her story.

Fast forward 20 years. And Charles Blow, who at the time was a columnist for the New York Times, writes his memoir, our fire shut up in my bones. Again, raw, honest, introspective. And it helped me understand why there was so much passion behind these columns for the New York Times. And I thought those were such indelible books to me that when I started writing, I thought, if I'm writing a book, I have to, and especially my own story. I have to be as open and raw and introspective and honest as they were.

And so, look, anyone who has read my columns for the Daily News going way back or even the Washington Post, they are used to me injecting myself into the columns as a way of bringing the reader along. When Trayvon Martin was killed, for a lot of people, it was an academic exercise. But then I wrote a column that said, you know, when I was a kid, my mother told me never to run in public and to never run with anything in my hands in public. And, you know, all the things that people then learned was the so-called the talk that black parents have with their black kids. And so for a lot of people, for a lot of my white audience members who were reading me, it was their entree. I was their entree, ambassador again, their entree into what it means to be black. I was their sherpa.

And so after writing like that for a quarter century just about, how could I not then put, do that on steroids in the memoir? I have no regrets. And in fact, what I love is hearing from all sorts of people. people who read my story and see bits of themselves, either bits of themselves in my story, in me, or my experiences. Yeah. I feel that as a reader of this. And so I get very excited for, you know,

the rest of the audience of this show and folks out in the world to get to read it too. And now a word from our wonderful sponsors. Yeah. I'm curious in specific, because these are the identities you get to speak to us from. I know how touched I've felt by a lot of it, and I wonder if a young, queer, black reader picks up this book, what you most want them to know or feel? I would want them to know and feel that anything is possible. And that by the time they get to the end of the book,

that they will close it and be more hopeful after having read it than when they first picked it up. Especially, you've read the book. So you know how it closes. And then I close on a, what might seem like a, weirdly hopeful note. But I use, again, I use history to ground that hope in something. And it's so incredible that you asked the question the way you did, that if a young

black queer person were to see the book yesterday, I was at Harvard, Henry Lewis Gates, the great Henry Lewis Gates did a book talk with me at the Hutchins Center, there at Harvard. and we went to Q&A and there was a young black woman off to my side here who asked a question and she said that she and her friend

were in Boston and had heard about this event and just decided on a whim to come over to Cambridge to be at the book talk and she said she was so moved by listening to the story and that's when she came out

and said that she's a young queer, black queer woman who's trying to navigate this world and how do you keep hopeful? And while at the same time being, you know, trying to safeguard your safety and your space. And it was just such a, I don't even remember what I said to her, but it was such a wonderful conversation that we ended up.

having and she she got emotional she started to tear up when she was asking her question i answered and you know there are those moments when you're talking to someone and you're looking at them and you just know that they could use a hug and i just jumped up and i said can i give you a hug and it was just, it was one of those moments where I understood how important I hope this book will be to her once she reads it. She got a copy. I autographed it for her. And I, and I hope it gives her a roadmap for the question that she, that she was asking. more broadly, the night before, I did an event in Springfield, Massachusetts at the Basketball Hall of Fame is where my event was on a basketball court in this museum, this museum to basketball. And wonderful conversation. There was Q&A and the penultimate person, because all these adults, and then who's there with this little, this adorable,

black girl nine years old her name's amora and she tells me that you know she she's written a book that is in the library of congress and um she wanted to know how do you deal with writer's block and it was just it was so adorable sophia that um well what did you tell her oh i told her i listened to music and depending on what i'm writing that's the music I put on to sort of jit up the emotion that I need or the speed that I need to write. And she said she listens to music too. And then she went away and then someone said, well, wait, what's the name of her book? She comes back.

I call her back. And I think the name of her book was Queen Aunt. And it's the children's book about how, well, this aunt is a leader and leading the other ants. And she said, it's part of a series of books that she's going to do of ant leaders. And I said, oh, so what's the next one? She said, butterfly. What's the next one?

Oh, no, what's the next one? B, a B. What's the next one? Butterfly, what's the next one? Hmm, I don't know. What's the next one? Grasshopper, I said, I'm asking me because I know you know, what you want your series to be.

And we've wrapped up the conversation. And as I walked back to the stage and sat in my chair, I got emotional. I had to give myself a moment because this moment that we're in is so fraught. It's so scary. It's concerning.

We don't know what's going to happen from day to day. And yet that nine-year-old girl, I said to everyone, she, what we just saw right now, she is the reason why I have hope. Yeah. And so, you know, for that nine-year-old who's, you know, kind of like me at that age,

she knows exactly where she wants to go when she's doing, to that black queer woman the next day at Harvard who is trying to navigate, those two different conversations, to different people, but I left more hopeful having talked to both of them than I did when we started the conversation. And so, you know, how could I not be hopeful for the future despite what's going on? Yeah.

I think that's something so important to click into that we have to remember what we're fighting for, not just what we're fighting. against. Yes, yes, we have to fight fascism, but we're fighting for the babies. We're fighting for the books to be written. We're fighting for, you know, a healthy community. And I think hope is so valuable because of that. Hope is fuel. Yeah. When you look forward for you, whether it's personal or professional, what feels like your work in progress? right now. Oh, my work in progress? Huh. Well, that is deeply personal in that. Here I was this 10-year-old kid who had a dream and no roadmap. There's nobody in my family who, and still, to this

day, no one in my family who is a writer, an author, a journalist in television. The closest was my Uncle McKinley, and he was an electrician at a television company. Right. So I'm the only one in my family who has done any of the things that I'm doing right now. And as a result, I'm now at an age where I'm twice the age, more than twice the age of my father when he died. And he died, as you know, when I was four months old. And so I'm getting to the, I'm at that point, Sophia, where what do you do? When you have not only reached your dreams, you've exceeded them, what's next? That is the thing that is most compelling to me right now. What is the next thing, especially when I'm still young. And there's more, there's more to do. so that that is the thing that's the big what's next gosh how do you how do you write yourself

a permission slip to do something beyond your wildest dreams that's a really exciting place to be congratulations to you my friend oh thank you sophia thank you yeah on the life on the book on all of it and thank you for joining us today Ah, thank you for having me. This was fun. This is an I-Heart podcast.