Whose Humanity Is Worth Telling? A Call for Racial Equity in Media Narratives

Nekima Levy Armstrong at Minnesota Women’s Press 40th anniversary event (photo by Sarah Whiting)
Recently, the Star Tribune published two starkly different images that reveal how far apart media narratives can be when it comes to reporting on crime — especially when race is involved.
In one photo, a Black man is shown shirtless, mid-stride, running down a courthouse stairwell. No name. No context. Just a vague headline describing him as a “felon escaping a Hennepin County courtroom.” There’s no effort to explain who he is or what may have driven his actions. Instead, the framing evokes fear. It invites judgment. It dehumanizes.
In contrast, another recent image shows a white man calmly walking out of a field after murdering a Minnesota legislator and her spouse, and critically wounding another legislator and his wife. This man had a kill list. He was heavily armed. He had targeted elected officials. Yet headlines didn’t call him what he was: a domestic terrorist.
Instead, coverage framed him as a man influenced by a radical Christian group that believed it was battling “demon-possessed politicians.” The Atlantic explored the ideology behind the violence. MPR News described him as a “troubled soul” with financial struggles and mental health challenges — a man with a “darkness inside.” Sympathy. Complexity. Humanity.
But where is that same depth when it comes to Black suspects?
Where are the profiles that ask why a Black man might flee a courtroom? Or the systemic and personal pressures that shaped his path? Why is there room to explore the emotional and ideological life of white men who commit mass violence, but not the humanity of Black individuals — whether accused or victimized?
This is what narrative bias looks like.
Time and again, white male perpetrators are given layers of complexity: childhood backstories, psychological insights, quotes from neighbors. But when a Black person is accused of a crime, the coverage is stripped of context. No family interviews. No past history. No nuance. And when Black people are victims — especially at the hands of police — stories like these are often absent altogether.
This is not just editorial oversight. It’s racialized storytelling. And it is dangerous.
By repeatedly framing white violence as aberration and Black behavior as pathology, media coverage distorts public perception. It upholds the myth that white violence is understandable — even forgivable — while Black pain and Black humanity remain invisible.
The stories we tell shape the world we live in.
This is why diversity in newsrooms matters. This is why equitable editorial standards matter. This is why we must keep raising our voices to challenge the narratives that reinforce racism and deny full personhood to Black people.
We all deserve better.
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For 2025 coverage, Minnesota Women’s Press earned a community leadership award, three photography awards, and four editorial awards, including for coverage of social issues and for our Spring 2025 “Know Your Rights” special section supported by Unidos MN. Our publisher was named Journalist of the Year by Violence Free Minnesota for gender-based violence coverage.