Project Censored has performed an invaluable service shedding light on the most significant news that s somehow
not fit to print. Censorship in an authoritarian society is obvious, from a distance, at least. There is a central agent or agency responsible for it and the lines are clearly drawn. That s not the case in America, yet some stories rarely, if ever, see the light of day, such as stories about violence against Native American women and girls, even though four out of five of them experience violence at some point in their lives, overwhelmingly at the hands of non-Native perpetrators. Anson Stevens-Bollen
Fort Worth Weekly
By PAUL ROSENBERG
Every year since 1976, Project Censored has performed an invaluable service shedding light on the most significant news that’s somehow not fit to print. Censorship in an authoritarian society is obvious, from a distance, at least. There is a central agent or agency responsible for it, and the lines are clearly drawn. That’s not the case in America, yet some stories rarely, if ever, see the light of day, such as stories about violence against Native American women and girls, even though four out of five of them experience violence at some point in their lives, overwhelmingly at the hands of non-Native perpetrators.
Quinn Welsch photo Ann Ford, a member of the Coeur d Alene Tribe, at the Indigenous Peoples March in 2019 where demonstrators raised awareness about missing and murdered Indigenous women. C
ensorship in an authoritarian society is obvious, from a distance, at least. There is a central agent or agency responsible for it and the lines are clearly drawn. That s not the case in America, yet some stories rarely, if ever, see the light of day. Why? One reason: While journalists every day work hard to expose injustices, they work within a system where some injustices are so deeply baked in that stories exposing them are rarely told and even more rarely expanded upon to give them their proper due.