From firewall to lifeline: what the Knight Media Forum means for street papers

On 11 February 2026, at the Knight Media Forum in Miami, Maribel Pérez Wadsworth, President and CEO of the Knight Foundation, stood before a room of journalists, funders, technologists and civic leaders and framed the stakes in constitutional terms.

“The First Amendment is democracy’s firewall,” she said. “If it falls, America falls with it.”

Her speech was not abstract. She pointed to journalists harassed in the streets, public media funding cut, arts organizations threatened, and growing pressure on institutions designed to inform and connect communities. She also offered a counterpoint: nine out of 10 Americans still believe that the First Amendment is fundamental. The public, she argued, is defending it.

For those of us working in street papers, that language lands close to home. We operate at the edges of markets and the margins of policy conversations. We publish stories that are often overlooked. And we do so in direct, face-to-face relationship with readers.

But if Pérez Wadsworth offered the constitutional frame, the clearest illustration of journalism as civic infrastructure came later, from Erik Langner, Executive Director of the Public Media Bridge Fund, and Mariana Robertson, General Manager of KCAW Raven Radio in Sitka, Alaska.

Langner described how the sudden elimination of federal funding for public broadcasting destabilized stations across the country, particularly in rural communities. The Bridge Fund moved quickly, distributing tens of millions of dollars to prevent mass shutdowns. Seventy-four grantees operating 186 stations across 29 states and territories were stabilized.

But the deeper question, he said, is how to move from emergency response to long-term sustainability.

That is where Raven Radio in Alaska comes in.

Raven Radio operates with just four full-time staff members. Before the cuts, there were five. That reduction may sound small. In a four-person organization, it represents a 20 percent loss. Robertson described serving Sitka and seven additional remote communities, including federally recognized tribal communities and fishing towns scattered across a vast stretch of coastline. Broadband is unreliable. Cell service can fail. In her first summer in Sitka, internet and cellular networks were down for 16 days. Raven Radio never left the air.

When an emergency alert sounds, people turn to the radio to hear a calm, trusted voice explain what is happening and what to do next. In parts of Alaska, radio is the backbone of the emergency alert system and the connective tissue of daily life.

That story reframes the conversation about journalism.

This is not simply about articles, clicks, or subscriptions. It is about reliability, trust, and presence.

Street papers understand this distinction instinctively.

In cities around the world, street paper vendors stand on sidewalks and outside transit stations offering a publication and a point of contact. The paper becomes an entry into conversation. The street paper vendor becomes a trusted presence. The newsroom becomes a platform for voices rarely centered elsewhere.

Individually, a street paper may look small. Collectively, across the International Network of Street Papers (INSP), the movement reaches millions and operates in dozens of countries. Like Raven Radio and the 186 stations supported by the Bridge Fund, street papers often function as civic infrastructure in communities where traditional markets fall short.

Langner emphasized that stabilization is only the first phase. The next is transformation: building durable networks, shared services, and sustainable business models that allow local media to remain rooted while benefiting from regional and national collaboration.

Robertson spoke of this moment as a crisis and as an opportunity. Financial constraint forced Raven Radio to sharpen its focus on what matters most: local news and local voices. Across Alaska, 27 public media stations have intensified collaboration, sharing engineering services and coordinating strategy so that scarce resources are used where they matter most.

This turn toward collaboration echoes across the broader local news ecosystem. Philanthropic coalitions like Press Forward are mobilizing hundreds of millions of dollars. Organizations like Report for America and the American Journalism Project are scaling network models and shared infrastructure. Policy advocates are advancing public funding approaches that protect editorial independence while recognizing journalism as a public good.

The language used at the forum like “infrastructure, public good, resilience” is language street papers have long embodied, even if not always recognized as such.

As INSP seeks support to stabilize and strengthen the North American street paper network, the example from Alaska offers a powerful reminder: small teams can anchor vast communities. Modest budgets can sustain essential services. And trust, once built, becomes the most durable asset of all.

Pérez Wadsworth closed her remarks with a call to action: the First Amendment was demanded by the people, and it must be upheld by the people.

Street papers have always been of the people and for the people.

If local journalism is being reimagined as civic infrastructure like a firewall, a lifeline, and a backbone, then street papers belong squarely within that design. They are part of its foundation.