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The Cleveland Indians are moving forward in the process to examine and possibly change the team name and will be meeting with Native American leaders to help determine the best path forward.Indians owner Paul Dolan announced Thursday that as part of the organization's continuous efforts to discuss the team name, there have been productive meetings earlier this week with manager Terry Francona and numerous players to discuss the name, as well as social justice and racial equality issues.To continue examining the best path forward, the organization said it will be engaging with Native American leaders to “better understand their perspectives,” in regards to the team name.The organization will also hold discussions with civic leaders and said it will continue to listen to the opinions and perspectives of players, fans, partners and employees.“We feel a real sense of urgency to discuss these perspectives with key stakeholders while also taking the time needed to ensure those conversations are inclusive and meaningful,” Dolan said. “We will continue to share periodic updates as we make progress. In the meantime, we are excited for our team to return to the field to continue our pursuit of a World Series Championship.”Dolan said that the organization appreciates the “passionate response” it has received over the last few weeks since announcing it would be discussing a possible name change. WEWS' Camryn Justice was first to report this story. 1482
DENVER, Colo. – Terri Gentry is a civil rights activist and volunteer at the Black American West Museum in Denver, Colorado. "My great grandfather – Dr. Thomas Ernest McClain – is the first black licensed dentist in Colorado," Gentry said. Her family lives on the walls of the museum, showcasing stories that will never be forgotten. “Coming in here for me is visiting my ancestors,” Gentry said. Confronting issues with the Ku Klux Klan and other incidents of racial discrimination, Gentry's great grandfather had many challenges, a lot to overcome in the early 1900s. However, he found a community that stood together and found the strength to rise up. Now they serve as an inspiration for Gentry and others who reflect on the past during Black History Month. “We get a lot of activity and action and response to Black History Month and then the interest wanes,” said Gentry. “But we’re here 365 days a year, so we hope that Black History Month gives highlight to us, but then it continues to create action for people to do things year-round.” Gentry says Black History Month was created to show how African Americans have helped to shape the United States, especially since their accomplishments haven’t always been recognized in mainstream education. “I remember being in school and there was one sentence about our experiences. And it said, ‘negroes were slaves,’" Gentry said. Black History Month is a time when we can reflect on the resistance to slavery and the impactful human beings who have fought for civil rights, like Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X and Rosa Parks. There are so many well-known people who helped progress equality in the U.S. But for Gentry, the most influential person in her life wasn’t somebody famous. “My grandmother, Ernestine Smith," Gentry said emotionally. Ernestine McClain Smith was the daughter of the dentist, and Gentry's grandmother. She was a dancer and performer, but more importantly, she was an advocate for civil and human rights. “My hope is that I continue her legacy. She impacted thousands of lives in our community,” Gentry said. Ernestine Smith always knew the importance of sharing stories from those in the past. “We’d walk into her bedroom when I was little, and she had this ancestral wall,” said Gentry. “So all of the pictures of her parents, her grandparents, her great grandparents were on this wall and she would talk to us about their stories and their history.” Those stories – and the stories millions of other African Americans hold dear—are what Gentry believes will help people from different backgrounds to connect. “I think that what Black History Month does is it opens the door for people to get another perspective.”When we understand each other’s perspectives, we often come to realize we’re not all that different in the end.“We’ve got to change our mindset and change our attitude and get rid of this issue about entitlement and get rid of this issue about ‘I’m better than you,’" Gentry said. "That’s killing us. That’s killing the country. We’ve got to change that idea and start embracing everyone… each and every individual that is here, that comes here, that’s been here. It’s time for a change.” 3203
In an age of podcasts and audio books, you might think this tiny nonprofit radio station would never make it. But not only is this New Orleans institution still on the air, it's thriving. It’s all thanks to donations, an army of volunteers and listeners that depend on the very unique services they provide.This rare radio station—located inside an old Victorian home—plays just about anything, except music. That’s not the only thing that makes WRBH Radio unique; the station uses their resources to help the blind. "The mission is to provide current information for the visually impaired," says Natalia Gonzalez with WRBH Radio for the Blind. Every day, a stream of volunteers at the station bring listeners just about anything that comes in print, including news headlines, grocery ads and even horoscopes. Gonzalez says the station provides local news, as well as national news. That also includes the funnies from national newspapers. Gonzalez says one of the best things about working at WRBH Radio for the Blind is meeting all the people who volunteer, like Mike McNulty, who is a volunteer reader. “My grandfather on my father’s side lost his vision, and it literally took a huge part of his life,” says McNulty. “So yeah, it kind of spoke to me, you know?” The station and its volunteers are making impacts on people’s lives—people like Tim Lindsley, who lost his vision later in life. Lindsley, a loyal listener in Thibodaux, Louisiana, says not only does WRBH bring him the news he can no longer read, it also brings a companion, of sorts, into his home. “Yeah, well, you’re definitely not isolated,” he explains. “You feel a lot more part of the world; part of what’s going on.” For Gonzalez, that’s exactly what she hopes her radio station can bring to viewers. “That it's a voice in a room that's comforting,” she says. “Not only is it providing information, but it’s also assuaging the loneliness that people who are shut in or visually impaired or people who just rely on others to take them places, you know?”There’s something magical about this place, according to Gonzalez. 2110
He was a former cop with a little-known story of infiltrating the KKK back in the 1970’s, until an Oscar-winning film thrust him into the national spot light.Now, Ron Stallworth’s story is known to many. “I never imagined anything like this happening when I began this, writing this book,” Stallworth says. “I just want to tell a story.”And Stallworth’s real life meets today's real life. The movie BlacKkKlansman ends with real footage from the deadly “Unite the Right” rally in Charlottesville, Virginia, as well as President Donald Trump’s comments afterwards, saying there were “very find people on both sides.” Stallworth believes the president's words are, in part, why his story still resonates so much today. “He had an opportunity to be the moral conscience of this country in that precise defined moment, and he chose to equate hate with non-violent protesters,” Stallworth says. Stallworth views today's alt-right protesters in the same light as KKK members of decades past. “The alt-right doesn't sport white hoods and white sheets. They wear suit coats. They look like business people,” he says. “They don't have the stereotypical image of the southern racists that many of us grew up grew up on in the movie.” That's why he believes diversity in law enforcement, and connection with the community, is more important now than ever. “If you have a systemic evil in an organization like racism, one of the best ways to fight it is to become part of the organization fight it from within,” Stallworth says. “And that's what I was doing back at back in the day. That's where a lot of people are doing these days.” 1639
“We found out our house was totally leveled. I couldn’t find one piece of a 2 by 4 left,” recalls Ed Anderson, a wildfire survivor. In 2012, the Waldo Canyon fire ripped through Ed Anderson’s house in Colorado Springs, Colorado. There was nothing left, and Anderson and his wife just barely escaped. “We collected up a few more things, got in my pickup, collected up the cat, and we took off," he says. "And the fire at that time was coming over the mountain rolling like a tornado. And it hit our house, they said, about 15 to 20 minutes after we evacuated." His home was one out of more than 300 destroyed in that fire. He decided to rebuild on the same exact spot. It’s what many people do. “If it burns, we rebuild it, we fight back, and it’s a very human thing to do,” says Brian Buma, a professor at CU Denver. Buma is trying to get people to think differently about fires, especially because he says there will be more of them. “The problem is, we have an ecosystem that is highly flammable, many years, and we have a lot of people living in it. That’s compounded by the fact that the climate is warming up, things are getting dryer, things are getting more flammable,” says Buma. Buma says climate change is creating conditions that will end in more wildfires. He and other researchers published a study outlining how communities can be more proactive with how they get ready for fires. “Maybe we need to rethink how we deal with fire and be more accepting of prescribed fires, for example, be more accepting of smoke when foresters in the forest service are clearing out the underbrush every year, more accepting of the fact there won’t be trees everywhere on these hills,” he explains. The trees that surround Anderson’s home are still scorched and barren from that fire more than seven years ago. He says watching his home burn was hard, but he still had the most important thing. “Your life is what’s important, not the material things that you have lost,” Anderson says. That’s not how things played out last year in California. “The fires in California, last year, were really indicative of the challenges we are going to face moving forward into the future,” Buma says. The most infamous, the Camp Fire, killed more than 80 people. “The fuel is building up, the tinder is building up, it’s getting warmer, it’s getting dryer," Buma says. "To me, as a scientist, what that says is we need to make some clear-eyed decisions about how we’re going to deal with this new reality. We know more of these things are coming, it’s simply a question of how we choose to deal with them." Buma’s study shows communities can plan better to prevent wildfires from destroying homes. “They can do things to mitigate that risk. They can put parking lots on the outside of their community, or ball fields on the outside of their community, to provide a large fire break integrated into their community planning,” he says. He thinks these types of communities will be better prepared, more resilient to flames, and hopefully won’t have to rebuild like Anderson did. 3082