Natasha Alford is an award-winning journalist, the Vice President of Digital Content for The Grio, and CNN political analyst. She is most known for her sharp commentary on Black life in America and racism in politics. But she's also developed a knack for highlighting talent from the most sought after shows in Black Hollywood. 

When I talked to Alford recently about having the ability to cover multiple beats and be effective, she chalked it up as something that Black journalists have to do, especially they we are working in Black newsrooms. 

“I had to be everything from a producer to a writer, to an editor, to a videographer,” Alford said, explaining the mini rolls she had to master during her tenure at The Grio. Gaining an understanding of all those different responsibilities has afforded Alford the opportunity to be one of the most effective leaders in her field.

Existing in different spaces is not new to Alford, which she explains in her new book "American Negra," a deep dive into Alford's personal life as she came of age as a biracial brown girl in Syracuse, New York, learning to understand the beauty, the love and the difficulties that came with existing in both Black and Puerto Rican spaces. 

Read the  Q&A of our conversation below to learn more about "American Negra," colorism in the Latin community and to learn the life lesson Oprah shared with Alford that ultimately changed her life. 

This transcript has been lightly edited for length and clarity.

Welcome, Welcome. 

I'm so happy. This is so full-circle talking to you, because I've interviewed you many times about your books, so honored to be here. Thanks for having me.

Congratulations. I know you have been working at this for a long time. We spoke about it a little bit in passing, but I was so happy to just learn about your story, and we'll get into identity and all of these different topics that you cover. Could you start with the title?

Yes, yes. The title, I hope, is a declaration. When you are a young Latino or a Latina and you are going through your community, whether you're walking down the street or you're at a family gathering, sometimes you're referred to by the color of your skin. So people will call you, "negra" or "negro" or "morena," and it's really just really two sides of the same coin. It could be a term of endearment, people saying that they love you for your Blackness, or it could be an insult and an attack.

And so I wanted to embrace the term to let the world know that I'm proud to be a Black woman, but also that wherever I go, I'm a Black woman, whether I'm here in the United States or I'm traveling around the world in Latin America, people see my Blackness first. And so that declaration, I think, is really important because we do hear a narrative that's a little oversimplified that the majority of Afro-Latinos don't want to be Black or they don't know they're Black or they're not proud to be Black, when in fact there are so many who are very racially conscious and actually on the front lines fighting for racial equality.

So this is a declaration. It is also an assertion that America see Black people in all of our diversity, all of our unique stories, and that's why I called it "American Negra."

So, you talk about a lot in this book. You talk about everything that happened in high school, you talk about your family's history in this country, you talk about your mom and dad's relationship, you talk about bumping heads with your dad. 

You got really personal, and I was kind of curious as to that process. How did you know that now was the time to tell this story?

You know, I've lived many lives. I'm only in my mid-30s and I've had at least three different career experiences. Working in a hedge fund, so that's one world. Think about "Billions," that show. That's where I worked. Working in inner-city classrooms, so to speak, "Abbott Elementary," I've lived that life. You could literally just find different worlds, and I've traversed them all. And I think the purpose was to come back and give a testimony. I feel like I tried on the American dream, the American dream that we're sold, and I learned what was true about it. I also learned what was a fantasy in terms of what is supposed to fulfill you and satisfy you on a soul level. And so I wanted to come back and say, "Look, I'd done it all. I've checked off these boxes and these are the lessons and the takeaways of that."

Really, I hope this is a blueprint, particularly for young people who are coming up, who are trying to go after the American dream, who feel hopeless at times, who feel like they did what they were told, and yet they're not satisfied on a soul level. I hope it speaks to them, and it lets them know the power of being true to themselves. And also that to be successful, you don't always have to assimilate. You don't always have to follow whatever traditional career ladder you're told you need to climb.

So those are some of the thoughts that went into doing a memoir this young. I think we need more memoirs from young people, that you don't have to wait until you're 50 and 60 years old because I am closer to this generation in terms of the experiences that I've had, and I want to give them some of the game, which I think a lot of people hold onto once they become successful. So that is part of the motivation.

No, there's so many stories in there that I think is going to help young people, dealing with people in high school who lie and say they were with you, dealing with people who aren't fully trying to support your dreams or telling you that, "You can't get into an Ivy League school." So it's navigating all of that. It is all in the book, and I think you do a great job at that.

Thank you.

What was it like dealing with the publisher? So we know the article side, we know how to crank out some articles, but just sitting down and sustaining a thought for two, three, 400 pages, and then working with your publisher, what was that like?

It was a journey, D. I mean, I was brand new to the publishing world. I got a few offers, which is incredible, right? First, you think you've hit the lottery because you're like, "Wow, people want me to write a book." But I went with the publisher who let me do the story the way I wanted to.

There are a lot of people who see me, they think, "Oh, CNN political analyst, she's a journalist. We want her to do a traditional history book. We want something that's more about journalism rather than personal." And I had to fight for this story. I had to really sell it and say, "No, I think we need a memoir. I think we need to hear the internal dialogue. We need to hear the personal ups and downs, and that this story could be really compelling if we tell it this way." So I went with the publisher who let me do it that way.

Actually, my editor was switched mid-process, so the editor who accepted the pitch wasn't the editor who I finished the journey with. 

Natasha Alford at CNN (Photo courtesy of Riverchild Media)

I hate it, I hate it. It happened to me three times.

It did? OK, so you've been through this too.

Three times, yeah. It happened to me three times. The editor who acquires the book is the one who's turned up. They're the one who was crying when they read your pitch. They're the ones that they really, really, really want to rock with you. So yeah, no, I've been through it. It's terrible.

Yeah, it's a reset, so to speak. And so I mean, I was fortunate that the new editor I got, she's actually a woman of color, she's a Black woman. And so we were connecting in different ways in terms of just things that she saw that maybe I wasn't thinking about the first time in my first attempt to write the book. So it was almost like a second chance at writing the book, even though from a logistics standpoint, it was very disruptive to have to start over.

But yeah, I tell this story just to say if you're a creative, and you're a Black creative in particular, trust yourself. Trust your voice. Fight for what you want because your name is on this project and so you want to put something into the world that you're proud of and that you can stand behind.

And so I've made peace with the fact that this is the way I wanted to tell my story. And no matter what happens, whether it makes a list or if it doesn't make a list, this is how I want to be remembered at this moment in my life.

So this is something that I can relate to and something that you may be able to relate to. But on Instagram, you commented on Jeffrey Wright's character in "American Fiction" being upset that his book was categorized in the African American section of the bookstore. What are your thoughts on how the publishing industry views writers of color?

Yeah. Oh, man, that was so funny. I just loved it. The low-key going into the bookstore, asking for your book, knowing that you're the author, I haven't done that yet, although I did send my fiancé into the store to ask where the book was placed. I was like –

Oh, yeah. Like a good fiancé should, he should move everything to the front.

Right. I'm like, "Yo, if you see it in the back, just slide it to the front." So thankfully, he did find it, and that was heartwarming.

But for me, I'm like, "I'm OK being a Black author if you want to put me in that category or put me in the African American literature section because those are the books that saved my life. Those are the writers that gave me a reason to strive." I grew up in a segregated upstate New York. We think about New York City, we are often thinking about the city, but the rest of the state is a very red state, and it's a very segregated place to grow up as a young Black child. So it was Black writers who helped me to imagine worlds that I never knew existed.

So there's no stigma for me in terms of being seen as a Black writer, but what I will say is that publishers were very excited to acquire these Black voices during the George Floyd era, and you can already see that they've kind of moved on. Right? Like they're –

I was going to ask you that because I mean, we're both in newsrooms, so we kind of remember just fighting. And you and I were on camera together a couple of times just having these conversations about all of this movement that was happening throughout the country. And then George Floyd comes and it's like this boom where everybody's like, "Oh, now I see why they're upset." And it's almost like a tipping point situation because that's when the corporations are changing, the people are changing, Mitt Romney's in the street with a dashiki on. All of this s**t is happening, and then all of a sudden, it's kind of like it goes kind of quiet.

Isn't that crazy? It's like you have to always know your value because if you base it on external validation, you will be left in the cold. You will be abandoned. And so we knew that Black stories mattered before the mainstream knew it, and we know it now, even after the mainstream has moved on to whatever is trending. And so that's what I feel. I feel that already the budgets have been cut. They're not doing DEI, they don't want to hire the speakers. They don't want to invest as much as before, which is why we have to really invest in our own audiences, our own institutions.

And that's why the happy ending in this book is not just me getting on CNN. I think I'm really trying to show this is what happens when you build with a Black media company or you invest in Black institutions, Black-owned institutions, that you can have a success story. It doesn't always have to be getting out and going somewhere more traditional that is the happy ending. So I hope that people see the intention in the way that I told the story.

Natasha Alford at NABJ (Photo courtesy of Riverchild Media)A considerable amount of this book is about identity, and I think you're talking to everyone, but I think it would be great for our readers to learn a little about that journey of how does one celebrate both their African American and Puerto Rican heritage?

Yes. Well, when I am a young child, I'm told that I'm both, and you receive what your parents tell you generally as the truth. And as I traverse through life and I get older, I find that it's other people who are projecting expectations onto me about what it means to be Black and what it means to be Latino. And what I find is that people generally accept me as a Black person, but as a Latino, as a Latina, people kind of have a hard time accepting that. And they want me to perform, they want me to speak Spanish, salsa in the middle of the street, whatever it is that they think a Latino does. And I start to learn the ways in which I, as a Latina, just don't exist in people's imaginations. They think of J.Lo, they think of Shakira, they don't think of someone like me.

And so when you feel erased, you may turn to some protective mechanisms. Mine being, "All right. Well, I'm just not going to proclaim my roots or go out of my way to tell you that I'm a Latina. I'm just Black," and I just left it at that. So you see me kind of move into that thinking I can be both. And then being a little bit defensive about what I am. And then eventually in the book, you see I start to find space for being both. I find my people, I find examples of people who've managed to be both and to be true to themselves. And so that, I think, is the journey.

And you mentioned that, you being this little kid running around town, winning these awards and giving these speeches and putting on, I imagine, it should have been a little tug of war between Black people, between African Americans and Puerto Ricans. I thought about the racial draft on the "Chappelle Show" where it's like, "We got Tiger Woods in the draft."

I love it. I love it. But see, that's the thing. Black people always claim me. Black people saw me as one of their own. And I think people – that's the problem. When Latinos look at you and assume that because you're Black, you're not one of them, there's sort of a missing out that happens. You're invisible within your own culture.

And so I think geography had a lot to do with it. But also, it's the way that America talks about Latinos, and that's why this is so relevant to right now. Think about election 2024. We're constantly talking about, "The Black vote," or, "the Latino vote," but what exactly does that mean? There's so much complexity, even in those two general titles. And so I think people who read this memoir will understand where that complexity comes from after they're done.

And you talk about the colorism, you talk about that and what it looks like. What are some of the biggest misconceptions when you get into the dynamics of the Latino community in regards to race?

Yes. Well, I think a lot of Latinos really believe that they aren't racist, that because they have a Black cousin or a Black grandmother, that systemic racism is not a problem for the Latino community, and that they really believe that it's the U.S., us with our Black and white race obsessiveness, that we are the problem, that we're projecting racism into their communities where it doesn't exist. But how many news stories have we read? The LA City Council members who were calling the Black child "a monkey," or there have been Latino shows that have worn blackface, making fun of Black people, or the Latino news anchor who said Michelle Obama, compared her to an animal. I mean, all this racism is there. It's just a matter of people being in denial, sometimes gaslighting, sometimes being unwilling to have those uncomfortable conversations.

So I think that is the notion that we have to confront because until you address that anti-Blackness and where it comes from, how it's connected to colonialism and the slave trade and all of those things, you will continue to have a population that has silenced and erased, and those tensions, they're always going to be there.

We kind of passed the identity part of the conversation, but I was laughing at your journey through buying Hype Hair Magazine and trying to pull that Mary J. look off.

It was not for me. I'll tell you that right now. I wanted it though, I wanted  to look like Mary J. Blige.

It's fire though because it's like I'm older than you, but just the conversations around perms and around hair has changed.  I remember running to the store to grab a box of perm for my mom or grab a box of perm for my sister and them combing it through their hair and sitting there. The longer you let it burn, the more bone-straight it's going to be. And it's like you have that conversation with somebody that's 22 years old now, and they're going to look at you like you're crazy. So even that, even embracing that, the conversation has changed, which is fire.

It is. It is. I hope people read chapter three, which is called, "Fellow Bueno," and I hope y'all have a good laugh, but also an eye-opening sort of experience thinking about hair politics because think about it. I'm a Black Latina. I'm a Black woman. On the African American side, my hair is exoticized. It's like, "Oh, she got good hair. It's so pretty. It's so long." I'm hearing that in one culture. And then when I go to the other side, it's not the standard. My hair isn't long enough. It isn't straight enough. It's the, again, the J.Los and the Shakiras, that is what's considered beautiful.

So sitting right in that intersection, you got to think about what does that tell a young girl or a young woman about what's valuable? Where does she negotiate her value? And so that's the journey that I'm taking people on is figuring out how to ultimately accept yourself.

Natasha Alford hosting a workshop (Photo courtesy of Riverchild Media/Courtney Glen)You also give some great perspective on working in a Black newsroom. Some of the struggles when it comes to the resources needed to report at the highest level, but then some haters from the outside too with people. "Why is she running TheGrio?"

Yes. So I compare it to some of the debates we have around PWIs and HBCUs, this assumption that because someone goes to an HBCU that maybe they have less resources. And in many ways, that's what it felt like. Being in a Black newsroom was like, "OK, it's great," but there were people who marginalized it and were like, "Yeah, but don't you want to work in a more traditional newsroom or a bigger newsroom?" Which really was code for, "Superior newsroom."

But what I found was that Black newsrooms, because we often had smaller budgets, we were scrappier. We did know how to do more with less. I mean, I learned so many skills because I had to be everything from a producer to a writer, to an editor, to a videographer.

No, you be hustling. You be hustling.

You know? That's what it was. And also, real talk, in many ways, we were insulated from some of the economic blowups that happened in the media industry because we knew how to do more with less and how not to overspend and just sort of run up the bill. I mean, we always were pretty conservative. And so I'm watching all these newsrooms lay off journalists, and I have not endured a single layoff being at theGrio for seven years.

So sometimes it's that whole idea of going to a whiter place somehow equating to being better, I really wanted to disrupt that notion and talk about the value of investing in Black institutions, and so I hope that's what people see.

One of my highlights was that when you wrote about covering "Queen Sugar" and then you in Panama and the crew going to the Soho House to the party, and you got a chance to meet Oprah, and her influence on you and getting you to chase that dream. That was just a beautiful scene. It was well-written and it was special. Can you just reflect on that moment?

I felt like a Black journalism Cinderella in that moment. You know?

You had a glass slipper on?

I felt like Black journalist Cinderella, like struggling all those years, feeling like a second-class citizen in media, and then ending up in the room with Oprah and getting the royal treatment and being able to look her in the eye and just tell her, "Thank you for representing for us for so long. Thank you for building your own network." I mean, this was a beautiful moment, and it's real. It happened.

There's so much negativity right now, and I hope that my book is a beautiful respite for people who just want to feel good about what's possible. When you step out on faith, when you follow through, when you do the work, even in the midst of all the challenges, you have those victory moments and you say, "Wow, this is the beauty of America when it works the way that it's supposed to." And it didn't require me changing who I was to succeed. In fact, it required me leaning into who I was, ethnically, racially, my passions for all this to work out.

So I hope it's inspirational for people, but yes, that moment, Top 10, Top 3 moments in life, I would say.

You know, her big start, where she was the anchor and had her own show, "People Are Talking, "was down here in Baltimore.

Oh, yeah!

So you was almost here.

She's the reason I went into local news. And even though some people would say that was a huge failure, you got to read the "Prodigal Daughter" chapter. I mean, the drama of me going to my first TV newsroom, it was because I was following Oprah. I was like, "Well, Oprah did the TV news thing, so I got to do that too." And then when it all blew up in my face, I was like, "OK, maybe I wasn't supposed to do what Oprah did. Let me go figure out what my path is." You know?

So my only fear, and this is something I would just like you to speak on, is I think your book is so important, I think it can be so transformative, but we are living in this era where people are trying to ban books that tell the truth. And your book, you definitely tell the truth. Do you have any hopes or predictions on how do we get past this moment? I mean, Trump is gearing up and people are saying he has a good chance at winning, even if he's arrested. 

What do you think is our pathway forward?

I've thought about this a lot. I have to admit, I never thought I'd live in a time where books were banned in America. I mean, I knew our past, I knew where we came from, but I just didn't imagine that it would come back to this. And what it shows is the power of local politics and activism because this is happening with school boards, and city counselors, and at the state level. There are frontline soldiers in this army of oppression and historical erasure. And I just ask, who are the soldiers on our front lines? It's one thing to talk about what is true from the comfort of our homes or sort of nationally, maybe on television or on radio, but who is actually doing the work locally? I worry about that.

And I think with our generation, millennials in particular, we're transient in a way. We move from city to city. You can be someplace and not really invest in the community that you live in. And the internet, I think, has also made it that way where you really don't have to know the people around you. You can just sort of go to work and get by. But we have to get back to that on the ground, like boots-on-the-ground activism where we're putting people on the school board and we're running for mayor, and we're running for city council because that's where these changes are taking place. And clearly, the people who want to suppress the truth, they're armored up. They've had a long-term strategy that they have played out step by step. And I just think that so many of us have benefited from the work of generations that came before, but we don't have a playbook. We're not actually in the fight.

So I say I believe the tools are there. It's part of the reason why I'm in policy school right now because I needed to understand how laws are made, how people actually effectuate change. I think we have people with the right mindset. They just got to get in the game.

Well, tell everybody where they can catch up with you and get this amazing book.

Oh my God, please follow me. I'm on Instagram @NatashaSAlford, all one word on this. I'm on X as well. We'll see how long that lasts.

I know, right?

Yeah, every day I question that decision.

Every day!

Every day is some new nonsense. But you can also go to americannegra.com and I'm doing a book tour. People have been coming out. It's been inspirational. It's been motivational, illuminating. So you can get tickets for any of my book tour stops.

And yeah, just support the book. Go into a bookstore, ask for it. This is how we keep stories like this alive. This is how we show that these stories matter.

Well, you know we rooting for you. Congratulations.

Thank you, friend. I appreciate you.