New York is people helping a woman lift a baby carriage up the stairs. New York is a hustler shaking tourists for a few bucks at Port Authority. It is a city of glamor. It is a city of crime. The New York we see depends on the stories we share. Too often the authorities, from the mayor to the media, tell us to be scared. It works, too. Until a new issue of The Indypendent comes out and the people grab it from its red-and-white newsbox and unfold the paper. You can see the reader, cured of fear with a muscular hope. We are reminded of who we really are. 

I love riding the subway and seeing a passenger reading The Indypendent. You have to be careful about people watching; stare too long and a fight can start. The risk is worth seeing the transformation. The reader unfolds The Indypendent, eyes flick left to right, lips pursed as they dig into the story and then some fact, some turn of phrase hooks them. The reader crosses their legs, maybe strokes their chin. I watch them get lost in the story, in the vision of New York that bypasses legacy media and shows migrants protesting a war, a mayor lying about lying, and activists with a bullhorn demanding developers make housing for workers. The reader sits back with a faraway look and then nods as if the pieces of a puzzle fit together. Folding The Indypendent and stuffing it into their back pocket, the subway passenger leaves changed. 

I have seen this transformation so many times. It happens at cafes, on buses, on trains. It happens on stoops, at barbershops and laundromats. New Yorkers look relieved to see themselves taken seriously. The stories are about us, for us. The Indypendent is not selling us to big business through glossy ads. The Indy cares enough to reflect who we really are. 

Which is why I keep having this vision. When I see the red-and-white newsbox on the corner, filled with copies of The Indy, I want to see it published bi-weekly, weekly, even daily. I want New Yorkers to turn its pages each morning, to laugh at corrupt authority, challenge the wealthy and see the workingvclass with dignity. I want us to share stories and links to videos of an Indy reporter pressing the mayor at a news conference.

I want The Indypendent to be the voice of New York. Here is our chance for street socialism, a rose from concrete, beautiful ideas that have thorns too. Here is our map of the future. If you hold up The Indy, it shows possible New Yorks like stars in the sky and the brightest one is the city on a hill. 

So, give today. Make a generous one-time donation or, better yet, make a recurring monthly contribution. Give to The Indy, and it will give you the New York you deserve. It will be a city where your children and children’s children can thrive. It can finally be home. 

Nicholas Powers has been a contributing writer at The Indypendent since 2004. He is the author of five books including The Ground Below Zero (Upset Press, 2011), Thirst: The Rich Are Vampires (Upset Press, 2022), and Black Psychedelic Revolution: From Trauma to Liberation (Penguin Random House, 2025).