The Indiana Statehouse is a cathedral of limestone and legacy. Inside its marble corridors, power usually wears a muted palette: navy blazers, charcoal slacks and the stiff, plastic hum of corporate-issued press badges.
But during the Indiana Black Chamber of Commerce’s (IBCC) “Lunch with Legislators,” the room’s visual frequency shifted. Cutting through the sea of gray were two distinct bolts of color. There was Rychard’Ā Rych’ Valentine, founder of On Da Seen TV, in his signature red vest ā the color of urgency, alert and an invitation to glance. Across the rotunda stood Kelah McKee, known as ThePolishedLady, radiating in her trademark vibrant yellow ā a color associated with optimism and intentional growth.

“I believe it started with a ‘no,’ but then it grew into a passion for stories in the community,” McKee told the Indianapolis Recorder of her journey from traditional radio to independent media. “It turned this business into a love, not just a check.”
Irony of influence
The most telling moments of the afternoon didn’t happen at the podium. They happened in the aisles.
While Valentine was mid-interview, City-County Councilor Keith Graves (District 9) paused his stride through the rotunda. In a scene that would traditionally involve a reporter flagging down a politician, the gravity shifted: Graves stopped, grinned and offered a firm fist-bump to Valentine.
Moments later, a similar scene unfolded across the aisle with McKee. State Representative Vanessa Summers, the longest-serving Black woman in the General Assembly, broke away from a conversation to offer Kelah a warm, familiar embrace.
These weren’t just greetings; they were transfers of legitimacy. In the halls of the Indiana State House, the acknowledging tap from a sitting legislator is a confirmation that the red vest and the yellow peacoat carry as much weight as any legislative badge or tenure.
Architects of authenticity

For McKee, the “Polished” brand is about more than aesthetics ā it’s about establishing a standard of transcendence that traditional media often neglects.
“I’m really about the stories … because every day is a movie, honestly,” McKee explains. “I love being able to listen for the good details … and then share the stories to amplify them.”
Valentine echoes this sentiment from the “On Da Seen” perspective, where the “Press Pass” is replaced by community trust.
“I get out in the field … and I go on every scene,” Valentine said. For a creator who started by capturing stories at Pacers games, the State House is a new milestone. “This is my first time at the state house, my first time around Senators, legislators … I never thought I’d be shaking these people’s hands,” Valentine admitted.
News’ atomic wasteland
This shift arrives as traditional local news faces an extinction event. According to the 2025 State of Local News Report, the U.S. has lost over 3,400 newspapers since 2005. As newsrooms shrink, “news deserts” ā counties with little to no local reporting ā have expanded to cover over 50 million Americans.
In Indianapolis, where legacy staff numbers continue to diminish, independent journalists like McKee and Valentine became the city’s media first responders. Valentine puts it bluntly:
“People call me. If I got time, I’m pulling up,” Valentine said. He views his lens as a tool for community positivity. “A picture is worth a thousand words. A video says a million,” Valentine added.
An open wound from deceit

The choice of red and yellow is a psychological anchor in an era of deep skepticism. A 2025 Pew Research study found that trust in national news has plummeted to 56%. For Black Americans, the gap is wider: 52% believe mainstream news’ design holds Black people back.
Valentine’s red serves as a visual signal for the ‘right now’ ā the raw reality that 63% of Black adults say is typically covered too negatively by traditional outlets.
McKee’s yellow functions as a beacon for the ‘what’s possible.’ She views her role as an essential bridge for resources.
“I’m happy to share our news, especially community-centric stories and resources,” McKee said.
As the lunch concluded and the legislators returned to their chambers, the red and yellow remained.

New-age journalism is powered by creators like McKee and Valentine, who didn’t wait for a press pass; they became the press. McKee sums it up with a challenge to the old guard: “If you really want to make an impact in your community, you don’t have to wait on anybody’s credential to confirm you.”
In doing so, they’ve ensured that the voice of Black Indianapolis is no longer just a footnote in a news cycle ā it’s the lead story, told by the people who own the narrative.
“Who needs a press pass when you have the people?” McKee said.
Contact Multimedia Reporter Noral Parham at 317-762-7846 or noralp@indyrecorder.com. Follow him on X @3Noral. For more news, click here.
Noral Parham is the multi-media & senior sports reporter for the Indianapolis Recorder, one of the oldest Black publications in the country. Prior to joining the Recorder, Parham served as the community advocate of the MLK Center in Indianapolis and senior copywriter for an e-commerce and marketing firm in Denver.





