By Contributor Sughnen Yongo
Susan L. Taylor, photographed for Essence’s 55th anniversary issue.
Mickalene Thomas/ESSENCE
When Michelle Ghee posted “I love my Black job” on X (formerly Twitter), the backlash was swift and telling. As Chief Content Officer at Essence, Ghee had committed the apparent transgression of celebrating her role at a Black-owned company. And the reaction exposed more than discomfort but further pointed to the broader cultural tension around Black self-determination and authenticity in corporate spaces.
“I got so many people coming for me,” Ghee recalled. “I was like, I can say I love my Black job. I do. I have a Black job. I work for a Black company. I represent a Black brand. I’m a Black woman in America.”
That kind of clarity—the refusal to apologize for who you are—sums up the ethos driving Essence at 55. In a moment where diversity initiatives are facing systematic rollback and cultural storytelling is increasingly commodified, the brand’s milestone is less a celebration and more a recalibration. It is exactly the type of inspiration that the team at Essence needed for their 55th anniversary as they looked at the past and repositioned for the next chapter of cultural and commercial leadership.
Not many voices could embody that mission more powerfully than Susan L. Taylor, and the most telling measure of her impact came within hours of Essence announcing her return to the cover. “I just couldn’t even imagine the number of people who’ve reached out to me in the last maybe 20 hours,” she said. “All these people really have my cell number and my email address. What a surprise and a joy.”
It wasn’t marketing hype but a reminder of what many brands have yet to fully grasp: that emotional investment, cultivated over decades, drives audience engagement in ways data points and targeting algorithms cannot. The timing is intentional. As New Orleans prepares to host the annual Essence Festival, a multi-million-dollar cultural and economic engine, Taylor’s reappearance aligns with a brand evolution inspired by respect for the past and a desire to innovate for the future.
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“This was never just about nostalgia,” Ghee said. “We couldn’t do that unless we talked about the past and how powerful and important this brand is and what it’s going to become.”
Taylor’s return coincides with the launch of Essence 360, a new digital platform aimed at building a daily relationship with Black women. Together with expanded offerings on CTV, YouTube and social media, it reflects a strategic shift, not necessarily away from the magazine’s roots, but deeper into its core mission.
That mission also comes to life through the Essence Festival itself, which has now become an epitome for Black economic empowerment.
This accessibility philosophy doesn’t take away from the Festival’s economic value; quite the opposite. The Essence Festival consistently attracts about $300 million annually in tourism dollars for the city of New Orleans, with the most recent official number being $346.3 million. Since 2022, Essence Fest has generated nearly $1 billion in tourism revenue for the city of New Orleans. The strategy is brilliant in its simplicity: create premium experiences that fund free community programming, building deep loyalty that spans generations and income levels.
Susan L. Taylor in a shimmering gold and rose-colored robe, hands raised toward a radiant halo … More headpiece, against a soft gray backdrop.
Mickalene Thomas/ESSENCE
“It’s in the second poorest state in the country. And yet, we keep the daytime sessions free,” Taylor explained, speaking of the festival. “Because it’s for the people. For nourishment.”
That word “nourishment” comes across as particularly apt considering Taylor’s legacy. When she became editor-in-chief in 1981, spirituality had no place in mainstream women’s media. So she made room for it. “I didn’t have the same training as the editors before me,” she said. “So I wrote about what I needed to hear. And what I needed was Spirit.”
The result was In the Spirit, a monthly column that ran for 27 years and helped define Essence as more than a publication and became a safe space for Black women.
“Not once did anyone complain about me writing about God, Allah, or the Holy Spirit,” Taylor said. “Never. People needed that space. And so did I.”
Taylor’s column helped readers to reclaim their stories, and her approach to leadership, inspired by listening to what the readers wanted, modeled a framework for mission-driven, values-led media at scale.
“There would be no Michelle Ghee had I not read In the Spirit,” Ghee said. “She showed us how to lead with power, grace and most of all, soul. She was the voice, the editorial prowess, but also the soul of this brand.”
Susan L. Taylor and Michelle Ghee smile and embrace, wearing bold yellow and coral outfits, posed … More against a soft gray-blue backdrop.
Mickalene Thomas/ESSENCE
Taylor’s influence, however, extends far beyond editorial tone. Her radical premise, that authentic listening could yield better insights from readers than focus groups ever could, helped shape the modern Black women’s media playbook.
“We were creating a stage that didn’t exist,” Taylor said. “We’re talking about a place where sisters, Black women who were as Black as night and those who were as white as snow, with blue eyes and blonde hair, sisters with noses as broad as the Nile, could see themselves in all of their reality and beauty and joy and all the many different manifestations of Black womanhood.”
That vision is now relatable across the digital and entrepreneurial ecosystems where Black women are building spaces for themselves and one another.
“It’s what we’re doing now as never before,” Taylor said. “We’re turning to ourselves and to one another. Everywhere you turn, Black women are convening.”
And increasingly, that sense of community is shaping how resources move.
That’s why the business implications of Taylor’s philosophy deserve attention. Her focus on circulating money within Black communities—“We have to spend our money among ourselves. It’s one of the most important things we can do right now”—points to a larger vision: an ecosystem built on self-reliance, intention and sustainability. Across industries, institutions once seen as permanent are being restructured, scaled back or erased. Essence offers a rare counterexample. Its growth from startup to enduring platform shows what staying power looks like, especially when legacy is no longer a guarantee.
Essence at 55 carries the weight of its history, but it’s moving with intention, shaped by the women who continue to show up for it and for each other. And perhaps no words capture that momentum better than the ones Susan L. Taylor would offer her younger self: “Keep stepping forward, heads high. Walk strong and proud.”
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