Among the stacks of the Little River Branch library, a quiet corner of books and popcorn sparked a lifelong curiosity in an elementary school girl.
From age five, Nadege Green was a self-described book nerd. She spent countless afternoons walking to the library to escape into new worlds. Her best friend at the time wasn’t another child, but Shenita Jenkins, the librarian who took the time to make each visit a vibrant adventure.
“Miss Shenita made the library fun,” Green recalls with a smile. She remembers the smell of freshly popped popcorn filling the air as they watched Jurassic Park on VHS. But it was the way Jenkins gently guided her to books on everything from rancheros to faraway lands that left a lasting impression.
In a way, Jenkins didn’t just open books to Green—she opened doors to new ways of seeing the world. “The library takes you places without needing to stamp your passport,” Green says, reflecting on how those years of reading and learning about others ignited the fire for her work in journalism.
It was in that library, with Jenkins by her side, that Green first learned the power of stories and how they could connect people, spark curiosity, and, in her case, shape a career dedicated to amplifying voices often unheard. Their bond—unlikely yet steadfast—planted the seed for her work today as a journalist whose reporting centers the lived experiences of Black communities in South Florida, connecting history, race, culture, climate justice, and displacement on NPR, WLRN News, and beyond.

Green’s path to journalism wasn’t straightforward, but it was always driven by purpose. While attending Barry University from 2006 to 2009, she took a class with Michael Sallah, who was at the time an investigative editor at The Miami Herald. The class would be a turning point. “I didn’t realize how important he was in the journalism world,” Green said, laughing. “You’re just a college kid, and you don’t always recognize the significance of those around you.”
“She was my best,” Sallah said. “What impressed me more than anything was her work ethic. She was working on a story about Haitian gangs in Miami at the time, and she went out there and interviewed gang members. She was able to get criminal histories and records, and she kept going back again and again to get the full story.” Despite carrying a full academic load, Green poured time and energy into her reporting, which left a lasting impression on Sallah.
“I do remember her saying later that it was one of the toughest classes she ever had,” he said. “But she was on a difficult subject, and she was not afraid to go out in the streets and do these interviews.”
Recognizing her potential, Sallah recommended Green for an internship at The Miami Herald and later played a role in her hiring. “I recommended her unequivocally,” he said. “She was a natural for us, and she got hired and did wonderful work.”
Green’s skills as an enterprise reporter quickly became evident. Sallah recalled how she covered corruption stories in North Miami Beach and was on the verge of becoming a full-time investigative reporter. “She has a heart for people,” Sallah said. “She cares about the little person, the people who often don’t have a voice. That always impressed me about her.”
Reflecting on her career, Sallah expressed pride in seeing Green evolve into not just a skilled reporter, but also a compelling writer. “I watched her career over the years, and watched it do very well.”
With his encouragement, Green landed the job at The Miami Herald while still in school, eventually climbing from clerk to full-time reporter. She quickly learned the power of journalism to shape narratives and hold power to account. For nearly a decade at The Herald starting in 2008, Green covered local politics, racial justice, and community issues, always focusing on stories that were often left untold. But she soon realized that, as a Black journalist from Miami, she had a unique ability to tell stories differently.
Green’s mentor at The Miami Herald was Beatrice “Bea” Hines, the newspaper’s first African-American female reporter hired in 1970. Hines recalled her first impressions of Green and the qualities that made her stand out.
“My impression was that she was one smart cookie, so to speak,” Hines said. “She was humble, but she wasn’t withdrawn. She reached out, she was curious, and she wanted to know how I made it through some of the horrible circumstances I had to deal with when I became a reporter.”
Hines noted that Green listened carefully, taking mental notes, and showed a deep appreciation for storytelling.“I had no idea that I was really being a mentor to her,” Hines said. “But whenever we talked, I would share some pieces of my story, and she was always so excited to hear what I had done or accomplished.”
Beyond her journalistic curiosity, Hines admired Green’s ability to connect with people of different backgrounds. “She’s Haitian, but she’s not afraid to learn about other cultures and to embrace them,” Hines said. “That’s how I am too, and I think she already had that in her when I met her.”

As a single mother like Green, Hines also saw parallels in how she balanced her career and family. “I love the way she interacts with her boys,” Hines said. “She reminds me of how I raised my two sons. Maybe some of that rubbed off on her just by being around me.”
Reflecting on Green’s career, Hines said she always knew she was destined for success. “From the beginning, I knew she would go far,” Hines said. “Because of the way she touches people, the way she reaches out, and the way she is so curious about this journey of life that we are all on.”
“A lot of newsrooms are made up of transplants—people who came from somewhere else,” she said. “But as someone from Miami, I had access differently. I knew the neighborhoods, the schools, the people. I could tell deeper, more layered stories because I understood the context.”
Her reporting took her beyond traditional newsrooms. She immersed herself in communities, gathering stories from barbershops, churches and community centers. It wasn’t just about reporting facts—it was about understanding lives.
“You can’t be a good journalist from behind a desk,” she said. “You have to be out in the field, walking the streets, listening to people. That’s how you build trust.” Green eventually transitioned to radio, joining WLRN, Miami’s NPR affiliate.
The shift allowed her to tell stories in new ways, such as her investigative piece on the displacement of a Black Miami community in the 1940s.

Her passion for historical storytelling didn’t stop there. She founded Black Miami-Dade, a digital and creative history studio dedicated to preserving Miami’s Black history, often overlooked in mainstream narratives. In 2022, she launched “Give Them Their Flowers,” the city’s first exhibit on Black LGBTQ+ history.
“Miami’s Black history isn’t just for Black people—it’s for everyone,” Green said. “We need to understand these histories to build stronger connections in our communities.”
Now, as the director of narrative work and arts and justice at the Community Justice Project and founder of Black Miami-Dade, Green continues to use storytelling as a tool for social change. Her work remains rooted in the belief that the stories of everyday people matter.
Recently, Green’s storytelling reached a new audience through social media. A video by TikTok creator Nicolas Nuvan highlighted her discussion of Bahamian history in Miami, particularly the lesser-known saltwater underground railroad.
This network helped enslaved people escape from the Bahamas to Miami in search of freedom.
“I saw Nadege talking about this on TikTok, and it blew my mind,” stated Sidian Johnson, a current Miami resident. “It’s a piece of history that so many people don’t know about, and she’s making sure it isn’t forgotten.”
Reflecting on her journey, she credits the person who shaped her path and hopes to do the same for the next generation. “Miss Shenita smuggled me books and gave me a love for reading that I carry with me every day,” she said. “She gave me access to the world in a way that shaped who I am today.” Through her work, Green ensures that the stories of the past inform the present—and shape the future.