https://karenattiah.substack.com/p/the-washington-post-fired-me-but
The Washington Post Fired Me — But My Voice Will Not Be Silenced.
I spoke out against hatred and violence in America — and it cost me my job.
Last week, the Washington Post fired me.
The reason? Speaking out against political violence, racial double standards, and America’s apathy toward guns.
Eleven years ago, I joined the Washington Post’s Opinions department with a simple goal: to use journalism in service of people.
I believed in using the pen to remember the forgotten, question power, shine light in darkness, and defend democracy. Early in my career, late Washington Post editorial page editor Fred Hiatt told me that opinion journalism is not just about writing the world as it is, but as it should be. He told me we should use our platform to do good. That has been my north star every day.
As the founding Global Opinions editor, I created a space for courageous, diverse voices from around the world — especially those exiled for speaking the truth. I was inspired by their bravery. When my writer, Global Opinions columnist Jamal Khashoggi was brutally murdered by Saudi Arabia regime agents for his words, I fought loudly for justice for years, putting my life and safety on the line to pursue accountability and defend global press freedom. For this work, I was honored with global recognition, prestigious awards and proximity to the world’s most powerful people.
As a columnist, I used my voice to defend freedom and democracy, challenge power and reflect on culture and politics with honesty and conviction.
Now, I am the one being silenced - for doing my job.
On Bluesky, in the aftermath of the horrific shootings in Utah and Colorado, I condemned America’s acceptance of political violence and criticized its ritualized responses — the hollow, cliched calls for “thoughts and prayers” and “this is not who we are” that normalize gun violence and absolve white perpetrators especially, while nothing is done to curb deaths.
I expressed sadness and fear for America.
My most widely shared thread was not even about activist Charlie Kirk, who was horribly murdered, but about the political assassinations of Minnesota lawmaker Melissa Hortman, her husband and her dog. I pointed to the familiar pattern of America shrugging off gun deaths, and giving compassion for white men who commit and espouse political violence. This cycle has been documented for years. Nothing I said was new or false or disparaging— it is descriptive, and supported by data.
I did my journalistic duty, reminding people that despite President Trump’s partisan rushes to judgement, no suspect or motive had been identified in the killing of Charlie Kirk — exercising restraint even as I condemned hatred and violence.
My journalistic and moral values for balance compelled me to condemn violence and murder without engaging in excessive, false mourning for a man who routinely attacked Black women as a group, put academics in danger by putting them on watch lists, claimed falsely that Black people were better off in the era of Jim Crow, said that the Civil Rights Act was a mistake, and favorably reviewed a book that called liberals “Unhumans”. In a since-deleted post, a user accused me of supporting violence and fascism. I made clear that not performing over-the-top grief for white men who espouse violence was not the same as endorsing violence against them.
My only direct reference to Kirk was one post— his own words on record.
My commentary received thoughtful engagement across platforms, support, and virtually no public backlash.
And yet, the Post accused my measured Bluesky posts of being "unacceptable”, “gross misconduct” and of endangering the physical safety of colleagues — charges without evidence, which I reject completely as false. They rushed to fire me without even a conversation. This was not only a hasty overreach, but a violation of the very standards of journalistic fairness and rigor the Post claims to uphold.
Since then, my words on absolution for white male violence have proven prescient. The suspect in Kirk’s killing is indeed a young white man, and already, lawmakers are urging us to pray for him. The media is painting the 22 year-old as a good, all-American suburban kid. The cycle I mentioned has once again come to pass.
I was the last remaining Black full-time opinion columnist at the Post, in one of the nation’s most diverse regions. Washington D.C. no longer has a paper that reflects the people it serves. What happened to me is part of a broader purge of Black voices from academia, business, government, and media — a historical pattern as dangerous as it is shameful — and tragic.
I am proud of my eleven years at the Post. Beyond awards and recognition, the greatest honor has been working with brilliant colleagues and connecting with readers and writers around the world. To all who have supported me, read me, even those who disagreed with me— I say, thank you. You’ve made me a better writer, thinker, and person.
But this is not the end of my work. I still believe in the power of the pen. My values have not changed.
Freedom from censorship, especially on talking about race, is why I launched the Resistance Studies Series, beginning with my independent online course Race, Media, and International Affairs 101. I created this course after Columbia’s School of International and Public Affairs cut funding for my Race and Media class. This summer, we sold out all 500 spots and funded more than 40 scholarships.
For those who wish to support me, please do sign up to join the fall session of Race, Media and International Affairs 101+102 — a series of lectures and conversations with prominent guest speakers — before the Sept. 19 registration deadline. The first classes begin Oct. 6th. This will likely be the last cohort I will teach until mid-2026, so don’t miss your chance.
For those who can’t attend, you can also contribute to operations, scholarships and guest speakers.
You can also support my written work directly by subscribing to my Substack, The Golden Hour, where I will continue to speak truth to power — without fear or favor.
I have been canceled by Columbia. I have now been canceled by the Washington Post.
Institutions may cancel me, but my pen and my teaching will not be silenced. If anything, my voice will be sharper now.
Forward ever, backward never. As always, we move!
-Karen