38 | My Mic Sounds Nice | Gwen Ifill’s Rise
42:27 Share

Wondery Plus subscribers can listen to Black History for Real early and ad-free right now. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Warning, today's episode contains racial slurs. Please take care when listening.

Conscious, where do you get your news? I get my news from a plethora of things, you know, a little bit of TV, a little bit of Twitter, a little bit of TikTok, you know, a little bit of whatever apps I forgot I downloaded on my phone years ago that send me notifications out of your church. What about you? I listen to some news podcasts, but then I also like share articles back and forth with friends. I'm in a number of different group chats. And when something happens in the news, the group chat usually blows up.

So you're adulting. You adults are adulting then, saying like, you got some peer edited, scholastically processed things. You bouncing other people out. Yeah, you get news. Yes, but I will say I do also enjoy like the meme accounts on Instagram that break down headlines. And then I also follow

number of influencers across multi-platforms that break down what's going on, especially since I will say I don't do it as much as I should, but I do like to get different perspectives. I follow some people on TikTok who I'm like, I don't necessarily agree with them, but they push me to be better about presenting my viewpoint. Agreed. Agreed. I got those two.

Today we are talking about the renowned Afro-Latino journalist and news anchor Gwen Ifill. Gwen faced many obstacles as a pioneering Black woman journalist in the 80s, 90s, and 2000s. But none of that stopped her from becoming a role model and icon for the Black woman journalist who followed. Gwen raised the bar and set the standard. Entramos de año y ensario a la historia de la comunidad negra.

It's 1977, Boston, Massachusetts. It's bright and early. Half of the city is still getting out of bed, but not 21-year-old Gwen Ifill. She's practically dancing down the street. She's got dark skin, short hair, and a TV-ready smile. Gwen's a senior and studying communications at Simmons College. She's headed to her internship at the Boston Herald-American.

Gwen's excited to move one step closer to her goal: being a journalist and bringing righteousness to an unjust world. She reads a lot and grew up watching the news. It makes it hard to ignore the world's injustices. As a journalist, she can cover complex stories and uncover hidden truths. It might help make the world a better place. But she's got to deal with some injustices closer to home. Gwen presses the button for her floor. Alone, she smiles down at her ID.

It's so official. She's here, living her dream. Gwen walks into the newsroom and makes a beeline for a desk. It's early, but it's already busy. She flashes a white coworker a smile. He quickly looks away. Her smile falters, but she shrugs it off. Some of these cats just, ugh, awkward.

Gwen sits at her desk. She's got a to-do list full of intern tasks. Phone calls to make, fax to dig up, and not much time to do them. A folded note on her desk catches her attention. It wasn't there the evening before. Gwen picks it up and reads it. The air is sucked from the room, and blood rushes to her head. She looks quickly around as her hands begin to shake. Her heart beats like a jackhammer in her chest.

It's short, only three words, but those words cut like a knife. Nigger go home. No one looks at her. She can't think of anyone who hates her enough to even write this. She can't think of anyone who hates her at all. Gwen balls the note up in her fist and sinks into a chair. Her eyes sting with tears that don't fall.

Gwen wants to create space in journalism for underrepresented voices like hers. But this? How can she create space for underrepresented voices if there's folks trying to silence hers?

Get ready for epic family fun at Capital One Arena. January 24th through January 26th, it's the monster jam. Bigger trucks, bigger stunts, and even bigger thrills. Then on February 14th, WWE takes over with electrifying action and your favorite superstars live in the ring. Don't miss out.

the Harlem Globetrotters on March 8th, a slam dunk of fun for everyone. Tickets are on sale now at CapitalOneArena.com. Don't wait. Grab your seats tonight and secure memorable moments for your whole family. In the past decade, Boeing has been involved in a series of scandals and deadly crashes that have dented its once sterling reputation. At the center of it all, the 737 MAX, the latest season of business wars, explores the

How Boeing allowed things to turn deadly and what, if anything, can save the company's reputation. Make sure to listen to Business Wars wherever you get your podcasts. Heritage, blackest royalty, from head to toe, blackest beautiful, blackest beautiful.

From Wondery, this is Black History For Real, where we chronicle the stories of movers and shakers from Black history all over the world. The stories will inspire you, educate you, and more often than not, leave you shaking your damn head. I'm Consciously

And I'm Francesca Ramsey. This is the last episode in our three-episode series celebrating Afro-Latino icons. And today, we're talking about Gwen Ifill. Gwen was a groundbreaking journalist who worked for a bunch of different publications, and this was back when newsrooms were almost entirely white men. Gwen gets a lot of credit for breaking barriers as a Black woman, but what some folks don't know is she's Latina, too. This is episode three. My mic sounds nice.

Gwendolyn Ifill's born on September 29th, 1955 in New York City. Her parents are Eleanor Husbands from Barbados and Oliver Ifill Sr. from Panama. She grows up in a conservative religious household. She's always reading and hearing scripture. Gwen develops a strong moral compass. Her dad's an African Methodist Episcopal minister. Being a preacher's kid, don't leave a lot of wiggle room to act up.

Gwen grows up under a microscope. You know how gossipy those church anus can get. Episcopal ministers move to a new church pretty often. Gwen and her five siblings are always on the move, too. Gwen goes to elementary school in Buffalo, New York, and Chambersburg, Pennsylvania, then middle school in Steelton, Pennsylvania, and high school in Springfield, Massachusetts.

Can't have been easy to make friends. It wasn't, but it makes Gwen and her siblings really close. They each other's first and only friends wherever they move. Moving teaches us some things. Fearlessness in new situations. Asking questions. Hearing new people's stories. The skills of the great journalists. Gwen learns to take up space.

In Gwen's family, they gather around the TV and watch the Today Show together every morning. They read the newspapers at breakfast. At night, Gwen loves watching the Huntley-Brinkley Report, a news program anchored by Chet Huntley in New York and David Brinkley in Washington, D.C. She's growing up in the 60s, and calling the decade turbulent is a bit of an understatement. The civil rights movement, riots, and assassinations fill the airwaves. Chet and Dave cover it all.

By 1964, nine-year-old Gwen wants to be a journalist more than anything. The news helps make sense of the world. There's just one problem. The anchors are almost all white men, with the occasional white woman sprinkled in. But one night, she sees someone who's a little different. Gwen's 12 years old in 1967. She's rushing to wash the dishes after dinner. She ain't trying to miss the evening news. She never misses a broadcast.

The theme music filters in from the living room. Her mama turns up the volume. Gwen, the program's starting. She dries her hands on her jeans and rushes into the living room. The news anchors in the middle of speaking. He's a white man, just like most of the anchors. The year of unrest shows no signs of slowing.

Race riots continue to break out all across the country. Gwen's serious about being a journalist, but it's hard to be what she can't see. For more on this story, here's Melba Tolliver. The program cuts to a man on the street interview, except the reporter's a woman. And not just any woman, a Black woman. Her name's Melba Tolliver, and she's a trailblazer for Black women in journalism. Gwen leans forward in her seat.

Melba Tolliver reporting live from Plymouth Street on the north side of Minneapolis. A race riot is broken out during the Aquatennial Parade. The news is serious, but Gwen can't help but smile at the sharp black reporter on screen. Melba's poised, confident, and she knows her stuff. Everything Gwen wants to be. That night, Gwen can't stop thinking about Melba. Being a journalist isn't just a dream anymore. It's possible.

I feel like everyone's burnt out on the phrase representation matters, but it's so true. Like, you just don't know what the possibilities are until you see somebody else embodying a role or a position or what have you that

you've never known was accessible to you. And so, you know, even when you do have someone who goes on to be a trailblazer the way that Gwen did, the realization that she wouldn't have taken those strides if she hadn't seen another Black woman do the same...

It really speaks volumes. And it's all the more reason that we need to make sure that the faces in front of the camera and behind the camera are more representative of the world that we actually live in. And what I know on my mama is that white folks understand the representation of the power representation. That's the reason why they are so intentional in infusing their identity or representation literally in every single facet. We're talking about Gaza, Egypt or Jerusalem.

you know what I'm saying, the crucifixion of Christ. We know that whiteness is going to be represented in that. I think it also serves to the example that Whoopi Goldberg talks about when she's seen the Star Trek star, Nichelle Nichols, and being able to envision herself, you know what I'm saying? Because typically, you know, back then,

Well, no black women on TV. Yeah. Well, you had to just be a maid and she didn't want to be no maid. So just being able to see these different black women taking up different positions was obviously inspiring and empowering for other little black girls to see.

When Gwen's a senior in high school, she decides to go to Simmons College, mainly because it's a women's college and it's in Boston. Kind of close to her family, but far away enough that she has more freedom. Gwen grows more assertive in college. There aren't many men around to monopolize conversations. The women impress each other by showing off their intelligence. It's a great environment, but it's nothing like the journalism world she's about to enter. If

If she wants to succeed, she's got to figure out how to transfer her skills to an industry dominated by white men. Gwen lands an internship at the Boston Herald American during her senior year, and she graduates with a degree in communications. She's working in a newsroom like a hero, but the newsroom ain't really welcoming. One morning, Gwen finds a note on her desk. The words inside make her blood cold. Nigger go home.

Gwen immediately tells the editors they're horrified and ashamed, but they've been impressed with Gwen's work and they're really impressed by her resilience. So impressed, they offer her a full time reporting role covering food.

Gwen doesn't have any particular interest in food, but she accepts the job anyway. It's hard enough to break in the news as a Black woman. She'll take any opportunity for a byline. It's the start of something monumental. It's not long before she's covering much bigger, more important stories.

On January 5th, 2024, an Alaska Airlines door plug tore away mid-flight, leaving a gaping hole in the side of a plane that carried 171 passengers. This heart-stopping incident was just the latest in a string of crises surrounding the aviation manufacturing giant, Boeing.

In the past decade, Boeing has been involved in a series of damning scandals and deadly crashes that have chipped away at its once sterling reputation. At the center of it all, the 737 MAX, the latest season of business wars, explores how Boeing, once the gold standard of aviation engineering,

descended into a nightmare of safety concerns and public mistrust. The decisions, denials, and devastating consequences bringing the Titan to its knees. And what, if anything, can save the company's reputation? Follow Business Wars on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can binge Business Wars, The Unraveling of Boeing, early and ad-free right now on Wondery Plus.

Late one night in 1977, Gwen's at home working on a story for the Boston Herald-American. Her bosses were impressed with her food coverage. She got a new assignment, the Boston school system. It's a chance to really prove herself. Gwen presses play on her tape recorder. A soaring voice fills the quiet room.

I just want my children to get the same opportunities as white children. Separate but equal ain't the law for the land. So why is that the way it is in Boston? Gwen rubs her eyes. The subject matter's heavy. Boston's at the tail end of a busing crisis. In 1974, courts ordered Boston public schools to integrate. The Boston school committees against it, but they're forced to bus kids.

And you know how desegregation tends to go. There's been lots of civil unrest and a lot of hate crimes.

Gwen's not oblivious. She's experienced racism firsthand. It's more than just a news story. It's real people's lives. People like her. Gwen didn't realize it before, but this is her first political story. Understanding from her childhood clicks into place. Politics controls people's lives, where they live, where they go to school, who they can become. And she wants to provide a Black perspective on the issues. It's gonna be a long night.

But she ain't mad. She's ready to change the world. In 1980, Gwen leaves the Boston Herald American. She moves to Baltimore as a political reporter at the Baltimore Evening Sun. She's one of the few Black people or women reporters on the city hall beat. The job takes a toll. Gwen gets letters from readers full of racist slurs.

Throughout the 80s, Gwen writes hundreds of articles about the homelessness crisis and lack of affordable housing. The subject hits close to home for her, literally. She spent part of her childhood in public housing, and she knows she's probably one of the only reporters on the beat with this personal connection to the subject.

She leaves the Baltimore Evening Sun in 1984 and moves to Washington. Gwen covers politics at the Washington Post. At first, she's on a local beat, but she's quickly promoted to the national news desk. Gwen turns her eagle eye to presidential campaigns and starts finding her way in the great scheme of politics. It's 1988, and Gwen's pulling up to the scene of her latest assignment, a presidential rally.

Queens, like one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse for campaigns. The Washington Post only sends out a couple of candidates they're pretty sure about to lose. Folks like Richard A. Garepart. Remember him? No? Exactly. Candidates treat her like a cursed rabbit's foot.

Gwen gently pushes her way through a crowd of mostly Black folks. A lot of them are holding signs that say, "Jesse Jackson for President."

Gwen finds her place in the press box, then pulls out her notebook, pen, and tape recorder. She's in no rush. Jesse Jackson's rallies never start on time. His team's notoriously disorganized. More reporters start rolling up. What's going on? Wasn't this supposed to start half an hour ago? They don't know what they're doing. Gwen watches frazzled campaign staffers run back and forth. Typical, but when Gwen looks at the attendees, she notices something interesting. They don't care.

at all. The energy's different from other doom campaigns Gwen's covered. Even if Jesse Jackson's campaign's messy, he's able to show up places and draw crowds anyway. Almost like Lauryn Hill. Hey, Lauryn Hill catching strays, man, but she's been showing up late, though, you feel me? Shit, I heard Lauryn Hill just showed up to the DNC convention like yesterday. Oh my God, that's so funny.

I'm sorry, Lauryn Hill. I love you. You still one of the greatest, but you be late as hell, girl. Gwen puts the pieces together quickly. Jessie's speaking to an underrepresented demographic, the so-called Christian Moral Majority. Gwen knows these folks well. It's the people she grew up with in church. Jessie Jackson's crowd got a lot in common with the preacher of the conservative side, Pat Robertson.

Except Jesse's fighting for black rights. What Jesse's doing is important. And that makes what Gwen's doing important, too. Yeah, she feels a little disrespected as the black woman on staff sent on assignments that white dudes don't want. But she can't control the politicians she's assigned to. Just her attitude. She shakes off her annoyance and scribbles down notes for the next campaign article.

In 1991, Gwyn's hired as a White House correspondent for the New York Times. The paper assigns her Bill Clinton's presidential campaign. She's used to covering candidates who don't win. Gwyn don't expect much from their Arkansas governor.

The World in 1991 reminds her of the world during her childhood, those turbulent 60s. In one of her early campaign pieces, she writes about America's sour mood. The unemployment rate is rising, and the approval ratings for Congress are falling. She points out that some folks are so desperate for some kind of change, they're considering KKK Grand Wizard David Duke for governor of Louisiana. Maybe they were desperately racist.

Now, not pointing no fingers, but it sounds kind of like some recent elections. Nah, I'm definitely pointing fingers. Gwyn's coverage is sharp.

and often critical. The Clintons' campaign's a mess. Gwen says it's like the campaign stepped on a banana peel at every corner, slipping and sliding but always managing to survive in the end. She points out that Clinton seems like he's setting aside Black voters so he can win back white Democrats. On September 20, 1992, Gwen writes an article called "Clinton Waves at Blacks as He Rushes By."

Jesse Jackson supporters have remained suspicious of Mr. Clinton ever since he used criticism of a Black rap artist named Sister Soulja to distance himself from Mr. Jackson. They also say his bus tours have attracted a sea of white faces, but very few specific appeals have been made for Black votes. Gwen's reporting is clear-eyed and unbiased, and she sticks to her goal of creating space for folks overlooked by society.

See her thoughtful and nuanced style of reporting grabs the attention of folks in a different medium, television. Gwyn could be on the verge of taking her career to a whole new level, but she's going to have to survive a tricky transition to get there.

I'm Erlon Woods. I'm Nigel Poore. We're the hosts and creators of Ear Hustle from PRX's Radiotopia. When we met, I was doing time at San Quentin State Prison in California. And I was coming in as a volunteer. The stories we tell are probably not what people expect from a prison podcast. ♪

Like cooking meals in a prison cell. Keeping little pets. Prison nicknames. And trying to be a parent from inside. Stories about life on the inside, shared by those who live it. Find Ear Hustle wherever you get your podcasts. Gwen's visiting Washington, D.C. in 1994. She's been focusing on her job at the New York Times, but she's caught the eye of some powerful people.

including the man she's about to meet. Russert, party of two. The hostess walks Gwen to a table where the host of NBC's Meet the Press sits Tim Russert, serious journalist. But he's a nice guy with a gentle smile. He stands and hugs Gwen. They know each other well. She's been a guest on the show a few times. The two friends catch up. After the waiter takes their order, Tim gets serious. Gwen,

You've lived a very different life from mine. I've learned a lot from you. Thanks, Tim. This is what Gwen likes about Tim. He's curious. He knows what he doesn't know. It's what makes him a good journalist. And I think the American people could learn a lot from you, too. Gwen raises an eyebrow as he looks right in her eyes. Where is he going with this? I'd like you to join Meet the Prince.

Not what she's expecting. Meet the Press is no joke. It's not just the longest-running TV news program in the U.S. It's the longest-running program, period, the first news program to have a sitting president interviewed live. When it comes to journalism, it doesn't get more legit than this. Gwen's been on TV a few times, and she was terrified. TV's not really her lane. Gwen laughs.

You're pulling my leg. But Tim's not laughing. It isn't a joke. But I'm at the New York Times covering the White House. I don't need to be on television. He smiles mischievously. You're not scared, are you? The truth is, she is a little scared.

Gwen's heard from colleagues it's a brutal drunk from print to television. Lots of people try and fail. Why risk it? But this new opportunity could grow her career and help her tell more complex and important stories. Gwen promises to give it some thought. But word gets out that Tim Russert and NBC want Gwen. And if you know anything about the industry, it's a bunch of copy and paste.

Once ABC hears that NBC wants Gwen, they decide they want her too. Same with CBS and CNN. Gwen talks to all the networks and listens to their offers. But at the end of the day, she decides to go with the man who believed in her first, Tim.

She joins Meet the Press and becomes NBC's chief congressional and political correspondent from 1994 to 1999. She covers presidential campaigns, congressional issues, and the impeachment hearings of Bill Clinton. She's so good, she's got other news orgs waiting in the wings to snatch her up at the first opportunity.

In 1999, PBS presents Gwen an offer she can't refuse, the chance to host her own show. She becomes a senior political correspondent for the PBS NewsHour and the moderator and managing editor of the Washington Week. For anybody who don't know, the PBS NewsHour airs every day of the week and Washington Week airs on Fridays.

Washington Week's been on air since 1967. It's the longest running primetime news and public affairs show on TV. Gwen grew up watching it, and now she's their first woman host and first black host.

Gwen makes some changes at Washington Week. She wants beat reporters on the show, the folks who are on the scene, getting down and dirty, not just lofty TV pundits. Gwen tries to make sure it's never all men sitting at the table. At PBS, she can focus more on stories and less on sensationalism. Her fair and thoughtful moderation of political discussions grows her audience. They look at her as a trusted voice in the changing media landscape.

The only issue at Public TV is resources. Gwen's working for not much money. When she was at NBC, she could easily hop on a plane to cover a story. Now she's got to be very smart about spending PBS's budget wisely. During Gwen's sixth year at PBS, a new challenge rises. I'm Gwen Ifill of the NewsHour and Washington Week on PBS, and I welcome you to the first and the only vice presidential debate...

It's 2004 and it's a wild time in politics. George W. Bush is up for reelection after his controversial win in 2000 against Al Gore. America's still reeling from 9-11 and invasions in Iraq in 2003. Gwen's at Case Western Reserve University in Cleveland, Ohio.

She's the first black woman to take on this role. Vice President Dick Cheney and Senator John Edwards sit across from her. On the outside, Gwen's calm, composed as always. But inside, she's nervous and a little scared. Millions of Americans are tuned in. It's the biggest audience she's ever had.

Gwen's prepared. She's spent the weeks leading up to the debate reading all the books both men have written. At home, her dining room table's covered in research.

Gwen's expecting to hear some well-rehearsed political bullshit answers, but her goal is to try and get them to speak truthfully. She wants to use her unique perspective as a Black woman to challenge the candidates and ask questions a typical moderator might not ask. The light blinks red.

They're alive and Gwen's off and running. I want to talk to you about AIDS, and not about AIDS in China or Africa, but AIDS right here in this country, where Black women between the ages of 25 and 44 are 13 times more likely to die of the disease than their counterparts. What should the government's role be in helping to end the growth of this epidemic? Gwen looks to Vice President Dick Cheney to answer. He takes a long breath like he's stalling for time.

Now, to be clear, Gwen specified in her question that she wants to know how the men will respond to AIDS in America. Here come Dick Cheney talking about his administration response to AIDS abroad. That ain't what she asked about.

And when it came to Gwen's stat about black women? Here in the United States, we made significant progress. I had not heard those numbers with respect to African-American women. I was not aware. When Senator Edwards responds, he talks about AIDS in Africa, too. And after both men answer, or should I say non-answer, Gwen has a choice. She can tell them they didn't answer the question or... Okay, we'll move on. Gwen trusts that she's done her job.

The men's responses show it's not an important issue to them. Like, they don't care. And for years after the debate, Gwen gets messages from AIDS activists thanking her.

From listening to Gwen's experiences and thinking about that debacle of an interview that Donald Trump had with the National Association of Black Journalists, how he treated those black women and how the media treat those black women. I think that there is a lot to say about how black women are always already pressured into being like the saviors of either like dialogue or the saviors of humanity. And I feel like it's just a lot to take on.

Yeah. And it's a delicate balance, especially as somebody like Gwen in this journalistic role where you're being asked to be impartial and neutral despite still being a human who has feelings. And I could only imagine in that moment feeling like...

okay, y'all have ignored me. This is not important to you. You directly talked around my question. But if I actually press you on this, it has the potential to blow this up and turn it into a whole nother conversation about me and my ability to do my job correctly. And this feeling of having to

constantly tone policed herself in the workplace. And for me, the thing that's been really eye opening as somebody who went to private school and my parents were really committed to making sure I spoke a certain way. And I feel like they did that in hopes of giving me access to, you know, a better life and better experiences. But the reality is people who are committed to seeing you as less than, I don't care how you talk.

They don't care where you went to school. They don't care where you live. They don't care what kind of clothes you wear. Like if they have a preconceived notion about your identity as a black person, as a black woman, they're going to project it onto you. And you see it all the time where it's like,

You know, with what's happening right now in our political sphere, the way that people are talking about Kamala Harris, it's like you can criticize her policies. But but time and again, what people are criticizing is not her her record. They are questioning. Is she really a black woman? Is she actually qualified? Oh, I hate her laugh. It's so cringy. It's like, wow, even when she's laughing, you have decided that it makes her less than unqualified.

oh, okay, because respectability politics is a fucking joke. And no matter how you present yourself, people are going to see you how they want to see you.

If you, you know, embody all of these marginalized identities. So Gwen had an enormous task here moderating the debate. And she did it. She did a fantastic job. So let me ask you this. What do you think would have happened if Gwen pressed the man on them not answering her question? Oh, my God. I mean, it would have turned into something.

Oh, she was out of line. She was disrespectful. I mean, I have the utmost belief and faith that she could have handled it professionally. But given the conversations we've had on this show and given the 40 years that I have been a black woman working in media...

I know that there would still be people who would say she was too angry. She was unprofessional. She was too big for her britches. She's so uppity, disrespectful. And so I think she was walking a very fine line. And I'm glad that she did it in a way that remained true to her morals, got the job done, and still managed to highlight an important conversation despite the fact that

that they kind of danced around what she was asking them. I agree with that wholeheartedly. It definitely wouldn't probably went good at all. I'm just thinking about the erasure of Black women in media and then specifically like the Afro-Latina erasure within the media and just thinking about all of what she was going through, you feel me? What she possibly was going through in her mind is based off of balancing so many different identities and perspectives while also trying to do her job and do a damn good.

You know what I'm saying? Shout out to Gwen for sure. In the years after the debate, Gwen keeps on being a voice for the underrepresented. In 2007, she uses her platform to call out the radio host Don Imus for his racism. I'll never forget that. Y'all might remember Don Imus called the women on the Rutgers University women's basketball team nappy headed hoes. Oh mama, I'll never forget that.

Don Amos' brand was being a right-wing shock jock. He was insulting women, Jews, and people of color for years. He'd even come for Gwen back in the 90s, talking about, isn't the times wonderful? It lets the cleaning lady cover the White House. Dude was straight to rash.

Don Imus's bigotry wasn't hidden. And in 2007, Gwen's had enough. She writes an op-ed for the Times that calls out Don and the folks who enable him. Why do my journalistic colleagues appear on Mr. Imus's program? That's for them to defend and others to argue about. I certainly don't know any black journalists who will.

I feel like a, a, Gwen was metaphorically, ma, ma, ma. Like, what'd you say? Oh, I got this. But she didn't stop them. A few days later, Gwen appears on Meet the Press and calls out her colleagues, including her mentor, Tim Russert. There's been radio silence from a lot of people who've done this program, who could have spoken up and said, I find this offensive, or I didn't know. These people didn't speak up. Tim, we didn't hear that much from you.

In 2008, Gwen moderates her second vice presidential debate, and this time between Senator Joe Biden and Alaska Governor Sarah Palin. Republicans question Gwen's impartiality because she's working on a book called The Breakthrough, Politics and Race in the Age of Obama. But Gwen and PBS ignore the drama. Gwen asks both candidates tough questions.

And just like the last debate, she has to deal with some sidestepping. At one point, Palin actually says she doesn't have to answer the moderator's questions. And once again, Gwen leaves the candidates non-answers to the American people.

It's 2009, the night before President Obama's historic inauguration. Gwen's in Washington, D.C. at philanthropists David and Katherine Bradley's house. They're throwing a party to celebrate the occasion. And Gwen's there with a group of journalists. Gwen's laughing easily. And not just because of the free-flowing wine. She's proud of how far the country's come.

She remembers what she used to see on the evening news every night when she was a girl. She thinks about the note that she got at her internship. All the haters and the doubters. Well, now the U.S. is about to have its first black president. Another journalist taps the glass.

Hey, everybody, come over here. Gwen moves with the group over to Bradley's large grand piano. One of Gwen's colleagues sits in front of the keys. I want to sing and celebrate. Any suggestions? Gwen thinks back to AME church upbringing and all the singing she's done. Maybe it's the wine. Maybe it's just her good mood.

But she starts them out. They make it through the first verse before most of the group falters. No one knows the last three stanzas. No one but Gwen. She sings alone. "'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fears relieved."

And God damn it to everybody in the audience. Yes, Francesca can sing. Don't you ever, ever, ever disrespect her musical abilities, God damn it. Know that when it's time to blow, she can do it. You know what I'm saying? Okay, okay. It's a bittersweet memory and reminder. Gwen's different than most of the group. She's a black woman, the daughter of a preacher. And she's been given the rare chance to educate the people of her country, to give them information to create a more just world.

The country's celebrating its first Black president, but turbulent times are on the horizon for Black America. In 2013, Gwen joins Judy Woodruff to anchor PBS NewsHour. They're the first all-women anchor team to lead a national network broadcast. It's a historic moment for representation, but in 2014, another sadder historical moment begins.

On August 9, 2014, Michael Brown is shot and killed by a police officer in Ferguson, Missouri. The Black Lives Matter movement jumps into the mainstream. Gwen hosts a town hall meeting on PBS called "America After Ferguson." Missouri natives talk about their personal experiences with racism and their thoughts on how America can move forward.

Gwen's thrilled that Black folks resonate with the program and that they have a place to speak. But a year later, a grand jury decides not to indict Michael's killer. The country's changed so much and hardly at all, and the hits keep on coming.

It's September 21st, 2015, and Gwen's leading another PBS town hall covering more black death. This time, she's in a historical circular church in Charleston, South Carolina. A white gunman recently killed nine black parishioners in Charleston. Gwen's disheartened by the lack of progress against white supremacies in this country, and she's hoping this town hall is a productive discussion.

Gwen approaches an older white man in a gray baseball cap. It's easy to assume he's an all-lives-matter conservative. The man stands and grips onto the mic. Gwen keeps a firm grip on the mic as well. As a white man, my main purpose in life right now is to get out of denial, to unlearn the racism I learned growing up here in the South, and to help other white men especially to do that, to become part of the solution.

It's a nuanced answer, and the audience applauds. But Gwen pushes for more. She asks why. Grief, I think. Grief at my own upbringing, at knowing that I was taught wrong. Gwen is sure to travel around the crowd, speaking to as many different types of people as she can. But not everyone agrees that the conversation is the right approach. Gwen speaks to Jelani Cobb, a Black writer for The New Yorker. It's very difficult to continually have this conversation.

We saw this conversation after Baltimore. We saw this conversation after Ferguson. We're having this conversation now, and no doubt there will be some occasion for us to have this conversation again in the future. When breaks in with an objective, a personal thought. Which breaks my heart.

Then, Jelani dropped some bars. With no ill intent, we've greatly overestimated the power of conversation and the benevolence of white people. It's tough for Gwen to hear this reaction to her town hall, but she set out to put the mic in the hands of Black folks, and she did. A lesser person would be angry, but for Gwen, all that matters is elevating people's perspectives and opinions.

That year, Gwen's health starts to decline. She's diagnosed with aggressive endometrial cancer, but keeps the news to herself, close friends, and family.

She's got work to do, but she continues lifting the voices of underrepresented communities. She participates in Washington Week fellowships that bring college graduates to help work on the show and website. In February 2016, Gwen co-moderates a Democratic primary debate between Secretary of State Hillary Clinton and Senator Bernie Sanders. Gwen's schedule is grueling. She's got chemotherapy on Thursday,

Washington week on Friday and only the weekend to recover before starting all over again. On November 14th, 2016, Gwen loses her battle with cancer. That same day, NewsHour devotes their full show and tribute to her. The whole next week, they do a series of tributes.

President Obama extends his condolences to Gwen's family and says he always appreciated her reporting, even when he was on the receiving end of one of her tough interviews. Even though Gwen's gone, she leaves an impressive legacy behind. She helped pave the way for media filled with Black women journalists. Women like Gayle King, Deborah Roberts, Abby Phillips, and Rachel Scott.

Gwen lived a life rooted in truth, justice, and her faith. It makes sense to leave her story with this.

Matthew 5, verses 14-16

If you like Black History for Real, you can listen early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Prime members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music. Before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wondery.com slash survey.

This is the finale of our three-part series, Afro-Latino Icons. We use multiple sources when researching our stories, but the American Television Academy, The Washington Post, and PBS were extremely helpful. A note, our scenes contain reenactments and dramatized details for narrative cohesiveness.

Black History for Real is hosted by me, Francesca Ramsey. And me, Consciously. Black History for Real is a production of Wondering. This episode was written by Austin S. Harris. Fact-checking by Meredith Clark. Sound design is by Greg Schweitzer. The theme song is by Terrace Martin. Lindsay Gomez is the development producer. The coordinating producer is Taylor Sniffen. Nick Ryan is our senior managing producer. The associate producer is Sonya Maye.

Matt Gant and Morgan Givens are the senior producers. The executive producers for Wondery are Marsha Louis, Aaron O'Flaherty, and Candace Malikaz-Wren.