Affirmative Action: The Bait-and-Switch That Left Foundational Black Americans Behind

Affirmative action, much like DEI, was sold as a policy to uplift Black Americans, but when you dig into the numbers, white women ended up being the biggest beneficiaries. It was never truly about correcting the injustices done to Foundational Black Americans—it was a way to maintain the status quo while giving the appearance of progress.

Instead of direct economic empowerment, land, or reparations, they gave us symbolic policies that could be easily manipulated. Affirmative action didn’t guarantee Black economic power; it just gave corporations and universities a loophole to boost their diversity numbers—often by bringing in immigrants, white women, or other non-Black groups while still keeping FBAs locked out of real wealth-building opportunities.

The lesson? We can’t fall for the symbolic hustle. The real fight is for economic justice, land ownership, and direct resources for the people who actually built this country.

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DEI: The Illusion of Inclusion and the Hustle Against Foundational Black Americans

The game they play with DEI is the classic bait-and-switch. They market it like it’s about leveling the playing field for Black folks, but when you check the stats, white women end up eating the biggest piece of the pie. Meanwhile, Black people—the group that actually built this country—are still getting the crumbs.

This ain't accidental. DEI is not a reparations program. It’s a corporate hustle designed to pacify the masses while reinforcing the status quo. They’ll put up a Black face on the brochure, but when the promotions, contracts, and scholarships get handed out—who’s actually benefiting? The same dominant society that’s always run the show.

And let’s be clear: when they say "diversity," they don’t mean Black first. They mean everybody except Black people, particularly FBAs who built this nation from the ground up. That’s why DEI never comes with an economic base for us. It’s all symbolic, no substance—because true equity would mean cutting a check (Reparations), and they’re never trying to do that.

So, the real conversation ain't about "inclusion"—it’s about power. And until we start framing the discussion around real economic empowerment for Foundational Black Americans, we’re just playing along with another corporate con game.

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Dismantling Justice: The Hidden Agenda Behind Striking Down the Voting Rights Act

The Voting Rights Act was struck down under the argument that it had become obsolete. But never before in human history has a law been eliminated for being too effective. We don’t get rid of drunk driving laws because DUI rates drop to zero, nor do we abolish murder laws when homicide rates decline. The only people who want to eliminate laws against murder are those who intend to commit murder. The only people eager to scrap drunk driving laws are those who plan to drive drunk.

The only people pushing to dismantle anti-discrimination laws are those who still want the freedom to discriminate without consequence. It’s about power—the ability to control outcomes and handpick winners. If too much progress is allowed, that power slips away, and those in charge lose control.

When the Court made its decision, neither Scalia nor his allies explained where the Court got the authority—or the justification—to make such a ruling. But this was exactly what the Federalist Society had been working toward since its inception.

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The Malcolm X Revolution Continues

Brothers and sisters, beloved family, listen closely...

On this day, sixty years ago, our shining Black prince, El-Hajj Malik El-Shabazz—known to the world as Malcolm X—was martyred on the battlefield in Harlem’s Audubon Ballroom. They didn't just assassinate a man; they tried to extinguish a movement, a spirit, a revolutionary fire that was too powerful to be contained.

The enemy—yes, the enemy!—feared the truth that Malcolm spoke. A truth so raw, so unfiltered, so unapologetic, that it shook the very foundation of white supremacy. He didn’t come to beg for freedom; he came to demand it. Not tomorrow. Not through legislation. But by any means necessary!

Malcolm was a warrior—a General—for Black liberation. He stood tall, shoulders broad, with the courage to call out not only the open oppressors but also those who betrayed us from within. Oh yes, family!—he was clear about the house Negro and the field Negro. He made us look in the mirror and see our condition, not with comfort but with the urgency of revolution.

They feared his evolution. From Malcolm Little to Detroit Red, to Minister Malcolm X, and finally to El-Hajj Malik El-Shabazz—a man who transcended the narrow confines of any one ideology. They couldn't handle a Black man who could unite us beyond borders, beyond religions, into one global struggle against oppression.

But let me tell you something they didn’t understand—you can kill the revolutionary, but you can’t kill the revolution!

Sixty years later, his words still cut through the lies. His legacy still walks with us, whispers in our ears, and roars in our hearts. We owe him not tears, not empty words, but action. Real action.

So I ask you today, family—are you ready?

Are you ready to stand where Malcolm stood?

To speak truth to power, no matter the cost?

To love your people enough to fight for their liberation?

Because as Brother Malcolm taught us, the future belongs to those who prepare for it today.

Áṣẹ. Long live Malcolm X. Long live the spirit of Black liberation!

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You Can Kill a Revolutionary, But You Can’t Kill the Revolution: The Enduring Legacy of Fred Hampton

My brothers and sisters, let us not be deceived—Fred Hampton was not just killed; he was assassinated by a government that feared his power to unite the oppressed. At just 21 years old, this young warrior stood at the forefront of a revolution that threatened to shake the very foundations of white supremacy and systemic oppression. He did not wield his power with violence but with unity, with truth, with love for the people. And for that, they silenced him in the dead of night.

Let’s be clear: this was not law enforcement. This was an execution. This was the cold, calculated work of a system that has always sought to destroy Black liberation, to keep us divided, to keep us in chains—whether those chains are physical, economic, or psychological. They feared Fred Hampton because he did what too many leaders before and after him failed to do—he built bridges between the oppressed. He reached out to poor whites, Latinos, Indigenous people, and Black folk alike, forging a Rainbow Coalition that dared to defy the system’s greatest weapon: division.

J. Edgar Hoover and his FBI called the Black Panthers the greatest threat to national security. But what was their crime? Feeding hungry children? Providing free healthcare? Teaching self-defense and self-respect? The real threat was that they were waking us up! They were proving that we do not need to beg for justice—we must demand it, organize for it, and fight for it with unwavering conviction.

But understand this, family: though they killed the man, they could not kill the movement. The same spirit that burned in Fred Hampton must burn within us today! We cannot merely mourn his death; we must continue his work! We must educate our children on the truth, we must build economic and political power, we must reject the lies they tell us to keep us docile.

Fred Hampton’s last words before he was executed were, “You can kill a revolutionary, but you can’t kill the revolution.” And so, I ask you today—will you let the revolution die? Or will you carry it forward, with courage, with wisdom, and with the unshakable belief that power belongs to the people?

Let us rise. Let us move. Let us organize. Because the fight is far from over.

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Black Excellence and Resistance

The outrage that erupts when Black people celebrate themselves is not just about the moment—it’s about the history, the power, and the fear that underlies it. For centuries, Black people have been positioned in this society as laborers, entertainers, and commodities—objects to be used but never subjects to be honored. The resistance to our joy, our success, and our cultural affirmation stems from a system that was never designed to see us as anything more than tools for someone else's gain.

Take Kendrick Lamar’s Super Bowl performance. In front of millions, he declared with unwavering confidence, "We gon’ be alright." It wasn’t just a song. It was a declaration of survival, a message to those who have tried to break us, a moment that said we refuse to be erased. And yet, that performance, like so many other expressions of Black pride, was met with backlash. Why? Because it challenged the narrative that America is comfortable with—a narrative where Black people only exist in service of white comfort, either through submission or silence.

The discomfort of those who oppose our celebration is not about patriotism, unity, or respectability—it’s about power. It’s about the fear that when we recognize our own greatness, we no longer need their validation. It’s about the realization that we are not dependent on their approval, that our existence is not defined by their gaze.

So let them be uncomfortable. Let them wrestle with their own insecurities. Our joy is resistance. Our celebration is defiance. Our very being is a testament to resilience. And no matter how they feel about it—we gon’ be alright.

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Love That Endures: The Foundation of Lasting Relationships

True relationships are built on love, patience, accountability, and a shared commitment to growth. While faith can be a guiding force, a lasting bond requires effort, understanding, and a willingness to navigate challenges together.

1. Love is a Choice, Not Just a Feeling

"Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins." — 1 Peter 4:8

Real love requires forgiveness and grace. No relationship is perfect, but a willingness to extend mercy and move forward strengthens the foundation.

2. The Power of Shared Vision

"Can two walk together, except they be agreed?" — Amos 3:3

A strong partnership is built on unity. Couples must align on their values and goals to sustain a healthy relationship.

3. Wisdom in Seeking Counsel

"Where there is no guidance, a people falls, but in an abundance of counselors there is safety." — Proverbs 11:14

Surrounding oneself with wise and experienced individuals provides encouragement and accountability in times of uncertainty.

4. The Importance of Character Over Appearance

"Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised." — Proverbs 31:30

Attraction may bring two people together, but character and integrity determine the strength of the relationship.

5. Enduring Through Difficult Seasons

"For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven." — Ecclesiastes 3:1

Tough times are inevitable, but they are temporary. Commitment means standing firm through life’s ups and downs.

6. A Love That Reflects God's Grace

"Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken." — Ecclesiastes 4:12

When God is at the center, relationships gain strength beyond human effort, creating a bond that is unshakable.

A lasting love is not just about finding the right person—it’s about being the right partner, making the right choices, and trusting God to guide the journey.

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The Deal with the Devil: The Forgotten Pact That Shaped Israel

So, let me get this straight—Hitler, the guy synonymous with evil, somehow became an economic supporter of Israel before Israel even existed? That’s like finding out Darth Vader was secretly funding the Rebel Alliance.

This "Transfer Agreement" sounds like one of those historical moments that everybody conveniently forgets at the family reunion. You ever bring up something uncomfortable, and suddenly folks just start stirring their sweet tea real hard? Yeah, that’s what this is.

On one hand, you got Jewish leaders making the toughest decision ever—do we take the deal and help our people escape, or do we stand on principle and risk it all? And on the other hand, you got people today who act like history is this neat little package with good guys and bad guys, but nah—it’s just messy people making messy decisions trying to survive.

Now, imagine trying to tell this story in a history class today. You’d have students looking at you like, “Wait, so the Nazis kinda-sorta helped create Israel?” and the teacher just sweating like Jordan Peele in Get Out.

And that’s the thing—history ain’t a Marvel movie. There’s no clear-cut hero or villain 100% of the time. The past is full of people making deals they thought were necessary, only for the next generation to be like, “Bruh… what??”

But at the end of the day, confronting these uncomfortable truths is the only way we stop history from just being a remix of the same old song. Because if we don’t, 40 years from now, somebody’s gonna find another lost news report that flips everything upside down, and we’ll be right back here—stirring our tea, trying to act like we didn’t know.

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The Bridge

I stood at the edge of a great chasm, staring at the distance between where I was and where I wanted to be. On the other side, I saw myself—strong, steady, whole. The wind carried whispers of recovery, movement, and freedom. But between me and that future stood a long, narrow bridge.

It wasn’t made of stone or wood but of steps—each one built from patience, faith, and the smallest victories.

I took a step. Pain shot through me, a reminder of what I had lost.

I took another. Doubt crept in, whispering, What if I never make it?

I paused, gripping the railing, the weight of the journey pressing down on me.

Then, from somewhere deep inside, a voice rose up.

You’ve already come this far.

I turned and saw them—my family, my friends, the prayers woven into each day. Their faith in me was a shield, pushing me forward.

So, I took another step. Then another.

Some days, the bridge felt endless. Some days, I stumbled. But with each step, I built something stronger than before—not just muscle, not just movement, but an unshakable truth:

I am still here. Still rising. Still walking.

And one day, when I reach the other side, I’ll turn back and see the bridge I built—not from stone, not from wood, but from the unstoppable power of perseverance.

This is my journey, and every step I take is a testament to my strength. I will keep moving forward because I am already building my bridge.

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CNN’s Documentary or Defamation? The Kobe Bryant Smear

What we’re seeing here is nothing new—just another example of the white media’s long-standing practice of using Black men as their go-to punching bags, especially when they can no longer defend themselves. The pattern is predictable: build them up while they’re making money for the system, then tear them down the moment they’re no longer profitable or, in Kobe’s case, after they’ve passed on and can’t clap back. This is the same playbook they ran on Michael Jackson, Muhammad Ali before he was sanitized, and even Dr. King.

CNN isn’t interested in justice, truth, or even journalism. If they were, they’d be asking questions about the people in their own circles—executives, politicians, and media moguls—who have been caught up in real scandals with actual convictions, not an accusation that was dismissed two decades ago. But the rules are different when the target is a Black man. The goal is never to inform but to reinforce the idea that no matter how successful or admired a Black man becomes, he must always be remembered through the lens of criminality, suspicion, and controversy.

And where’s the so-called “Black elite” in all of this? Silent, as usual. Too many of them are too busy trying to stay in good graces with the very media machine that would chew them up and spit them out the moment they step out of line. This is what happens when you allow yourself to be controlled from the time you enter the system—when your agents, your coaches, your managers all serve the same interests that are fundamentally opposed to you. The moment these athletes become too successful or too powerful on their own terms, the white media reminds them who really calls the shots.

This isn’t about Kobe. It’s about the message they want to send to every Black man watching: No matter how high you rise, we can drag you back down whenever we choose. And unless we build our own institutions, our own media, and stand up for our own, this cycle will continue. The question is, how long are we going to let them get away with it?

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Justice, Accountability, and the Peril of Pandering to Rebellion

As we examine the deepening divide within the nation’s political and moral fabric, Donald Trump’s decision to pardon individuals involved in the January 6 Capitol riot stands as a profound affront to the principles of justice, accountability, and the rule of law.

The actions of January 6 were not merely political missteps; they were an assault on democracy itself, carried out by individuals who sought to undermine the constitutional order. Pardoning such behavior sends a dangerous message that lawlessness, when politically convenient, is tolerable. Scripture reminds us in Proverbs 17:15, "Acquitting the guilty and condemning the innocent—Yah despises them both." In this moment, it is clear that the pardons reflect neither righteousness nor justice but political expediency at its worst.

Judge Beryl Howell’s refusal to dismiss charges against admitted offenders is a bold and righteous stand. Her words remind us that we cannot rewrite the narrative to absolve guilt or dismiss the pain inflicted on this nation. Justice demands accountability, and accountability is not partisan—it is foundational to any moral society.

Even within Trump’s own party, voices are rising in dissent. Law enforcement, conservative thought leaders, and political allies alike are struggling to justify these pardons, highlighting the deep betrayal felt by those who stand on the side of law and order. To pardon those who stormed the Capitol, desecrating the seat of government, is to condone rebellion and chaos. It undermines the sacrifices of those who have fought and died to uphold this nation’s ideals.

As believers, we must examine the heart of such decisions and hold fast to the principles of truth, equity, and justice. The Most High calls us to walk in integrity, even when it is difficult. Micah 6:8 compels us to “act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with your Elohim.” To act justly means to reject actions that erode the trust of the people and the foundations of governance.

Trump’s decision has not only alienated many within his party but also further fractured the unity needed to move this nation forward. It is a political and moral debacle, one that will have consequences far beyond the immediate fallout. For those who seek to follow Yah’s ways, this moment is a clarion call to stand firm in truth and resist the allure of pandering to rebellion or political expediency.

Let us continue to pray for this nation, its leaders, and its people. May we rise above partisanship and personal ambition to restore justice, uphold the rule of law, and heal the deep wounds inflicted on our democracy. For only when we do these things can we truly be one nation under Yah, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.

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Is the Black American Chosen or Cursed.

The question of whether Black Americans are chosen or cursed is deeply rooted in the historical, cultural, and spiritual journey of a unique group of people. To unpack this, it’s important to examine the distinct experiences of Black Americans compared to other groups of African descent, including Africans from the continent.

The Historical Context

Black Americans, particularly descendants of enslaved Africans in the United States, carry a history unlike any other. The transatlantic slave trade stripped them of their language, culture, and direct ties to their homeland, creating a new, distinct identity forged in the crucible of oppression and survival. Unlike many African immigrants who maintain ties to their ancestral nations and cultures, Black Americans have had to build their identity from the ground up in a hostile environment.

Treatment of Black Americans vs. Africans

In many Western societies, Black Americans are treated as a perpetual underclass. They’ve faced systemic racism, economic exclusion, and cultural erasure for centuries. In contrast, African immigrants are often perceived differently—sometimes viewed as "model minorities" in ways that create a false narrative of contrast. Africans may not carry the same historical baggage of slavery in America, and this can lead to different treatment by white society.

This disparity isn’t accidental. It’s a strategy to keep Black Americans—the descendants of those who built the nation—disenfranchised. By elevating other groups, including African immigrants, a divide is created that disrupts unity among the global African diaspora.

Misunderstandings Among Some Africans

Some Africans, particularly those unfamiliar with the history of Black Americans, may not fully grasp the depth of systemic racism in the U.S. or the unique struggles of Black Americans. They may wonder why Black Americans haven't "just moved on" or why they don’t take advantage of opportunities in the same way immigrants do. This lack of understanding can lead to tension and a sense of alienation between the two groups.

What’s often overlooked is that Black Americans aren’t simply dealing with individual racism—they’re up against a multi-generational system designed to limit their progress at every level. African immigrants, though they face racism, may not experience the same deeply embedded, intergenerational barriers because their entry into the system is different.

Chosen, Not Cursed

The narrative of being "cursed" has long been used to undermine Black Americans' sense of self-worth. However, the contributions of Black Americans to global culture, science, and social progress demonstrate otherwise. From spirituals and jazz to hip-hop and activism, Black Americans have created, innovated, and led in ways that have shaped the modern world. This resilience and brilliance in the face of adversity point to a people who are chosen—not by fate, but by their own determination and strength.

Unity is the Key

It’s essential to bridge the gap between Black Americans and Africans by fostering mutual understanding and solidarity. Black Americans have shown the world how to resist oppression and demand justice, and this legacy can inspire unity among the African diaspora. Africans, in turn, bring unique cultural and historical perspectives that can enrich the collective struggle for liberation and empowerment.

The real question is not whether Black Americans are chosen or cursed—it’s whether they, along with their African brothers and sisters, will recognize the power in their shared history and work together to dismantle the systems that oppress them. When the diaspora unites, the strength of that connection is undeniable.

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