I too sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen when company

comes, but I laugh and eat well and grow strong. Tomorrow I'll be at the table when company

comes. Nobody will dare say to me eating the kitchen then. Besides, they'll see how

beautiful I am and be ashamed. I too am America. That was I too. Langston Hughes's

famous response to what women's I hear America singing, in which Whitman romantically waxes

on about the mechanics and carpenters and shoemakers who sing a song of America. Strong, melodious

and undoubtedly white. This podcast into America has tried to respond to the current moment

the same way by telling another kind of American story. Over the past year, a lot has changed

in this country and we've tried to change with it. After the death of George Floyd, it

became obvious to all of us that our mission had to more explicitly address race as the

defining force in this country. We've tried to amplify the voices of the unheard and provide

context around the many messy dynamics that shape our lives. We've told stories of triumph

and tragedy, life and death, struggle and survival. We've sought to tell these stories from

a black perspective and with black voices and we've done so unabashedly, revealing our

burdens and our beauty because as Hughes reminds us in his poem, we too are America.

I think this moment calls for us to be honest and truthful about who we are as Americans,

who we've been and who we hope to become. And there's no way to do that without examining

the role, range and power of blackness in America. As we've honed our focus, we also wanted

to change the look of the show. So today, we're introducing fresh new cover art that we

think speaks to the hope, anxieties and aspirations of black America.

Thank you for joining us on this ride into America.