Monthly Archives: August 2025

A Second Wind for Old Strips: Why HBCU Alumni Should Rethink Vintage Retail Centers

“We don’t need to break ground to build power. Sometimes we just need to reclaim it.” – HBCU Money

In the 1990s and early 2000s, no suburban corner in America seemed complete without a modest retail strip: a nail salon, dry cleaner, small grocer, and maybe a local pizza joint. These seemingly unremarkable centers were the backbone of everyday commerce. Then came e-commerce, big box expansions, and shifting consumer behavior. The strip center fell out of fashion until now.

Today, those vintage retail strip centers are experiencing a renaissance. Commercial real estate investors, faced with skyrocketing construction costs and restrictive lending environments, are rediscovering the power and profitability of renovating existing assets. For HBCU alumni investors looking to blend stable returns with community impact, this moment presents a rare convergence of opportunity, efficiency, and cultural relevancy.

The Math Behind the Momentum

Construction costs for new retail buildings are ballooning. Estimates now range from $250 to $300 per square foot for ground-up construction sometimes higher in urban markets. At those prices, generating attractive returns is difficult unless you’re building luxury, destination retail with national anchor tenants. That’s not where the market is heading.

Instead, investors are realizing they can acquire and renovate vintage strip centers typically 20 to 40 years old for far less than the cost of new construction. Many are structurally sound but aesthetically dated or functionally obsolete. These properties often sit on prime real estate near transportation corridors, residential growth areas, or college campuses including HBCUs.

When repositioned with the right tenants, lighting, signage, and facades, vintage centers can achieve competitive rents without incurring the deep capital exposure of new construction. They offer a rent-to-cost ratio that works, especially in secondary and tertiary markets where demand for accessible neighborhood retail remains strong.

A Platform for Black Wealth Creation

For HBCU alumni who have traditionally been boxed out of Class A urban development deals, vintage strip centers represent an asset class that is:

  • Financially accessible
  • Culturally significant
  • Commercially viable

Most importantly, these assets can serve as anchors for Black-owned businesses, co-ops, and cultural hubs. While institutional investors often chase high-profile multifamily or office deals, retail strip centers in historically Black communities or near HBCUs are often overlooked providing a wedge for local or regional investors to step in.

A well-structured renovation project led by an HBCU graduate could transform a decaying strip into a vibrant ecosystem of barbershops, cafés, health providers, financial institutions, and coworking spaces all backed by the community, for the community.

Deferred Maintenance as Opportunity, Not Obstacle

Critics of strip centers often cite “deferred maintenance” as a red flag. And it’s true—many of these assets come with leaky roofs, outdated HVAC systems, and non-compliant ADA access. But that doesn’t make them unviable. It makes them undervalued.

Roof replacements, ADA compliance upgrades, lighting retrofits, parking lot resurfacing—these are all predictable costs that can be priced and phased. Investors willing to do their homework (or partner with experienced contractors) can use these improvements to negotiate purchase price reductions while still bringing total project costs well below new-build levels.

The essential formula is: fix what’s failing, elevate what’s usable, reimagine what’s tired. A fresh coat of paint and new signage can do wonders. Add in a few placemaking enhancements—like patio seating, bike racks, or public art and you’ve turned an afterthought into a destination.

The Tenant Mix Advantage

Unlike enclosed malls or big-box centers, strip malls thrive on tenant diversity and flexibility. This is where Black investors especially HBCU alumni with deep community ties—can bring unique vision.

Think beyond the nail salon and dry cleaner. Consider:

  • Black-owned coffee shops sourcing from Black farmers
  • Culinary incubators for emerging chefs and caterers
  • Financial coaching centers led by HBCU grads
  • Community health or dental clinics with wellness services
  • Retail cooperatives selling goods from multiple local makers

HBCU alumni investors can fill these strips not just with tenants, but with mission-aligned entrepreneurs. Lease agreements can include mentorship opportunities, cooperative ownership structures, or tenant improvement allowances tied to hiring local workers.

With a thoughtful mix, even a 20,000–30,000 square foot strip center can become an engine of neighborhood stability, economic inclusion, and generational wealth transfer.

Location, Location, Relevance

Vintage strip centers often sit on some of the most undervalued land in America. Many were built decades ago when zoning was looser, and land was cheaper. As communities grow outward and younger generations seek walkable, mixed-use environments those same centers are suddenly back in the middle of activity.

For HBCU alumni, the opportunity is even more focused. There are dozens of strip centers within walking or driving distance of HBCU campuses. Whether it’s off-campus student housing, faculty neighborhoods, or alumni communities, there is demand for:

  • Local dining and services
  • Affordable, accessible retail
  • Safe, well-lit gathering places
  • Commercial space for alumni-owned businesses

These are not Class A trophy assets, but they don’t need to be. They need to be functional, familiar, and forward-looking.

Risk and Repositioning

Of course, this isn’t a silver bullet. Not every vintage strip is a diamond in the rough. Investors must do real due diligence:

  • Structural Integrity – Always get a full building condition report. It’s the difference between a renovation and a rebuild.
  • Zoning Compliance – Changing use (i.e., turning part of a center into residential or entertainment space) may trigger zoning complications or code upgrades.
  • Environmental Reviews – Gas stations, dry cleaners, and auto shops may have left behind soil contamination. Budget for testing and potential remediation.
  • Tenant Rollover – Inheriting a strip with long-term leases at below-market rents may limit your flexibility.

But with risk comes return. A well-executed repositioning can yield cap rates of 7–9%, with additional upside through refinancing or disposition within 5–10 years.

Financing the Vision

Vintage retail projects are easier to finance than new builds but only if you approach the right lenders. Here’s where HBCU alumni can get creative:

  • CDFIs – Community Development Financial Institutions are often more flexible when the project has community benefits.
  • Opportunity Zones – Many vintage retail corridors are located in federally designated OZs, allowing access to tax-advantaged equity.
  • Historic Preservation Tax Credits – If the building qualifies, you may be eligible for 10–20% of renovation costs back in tax relief.
  • Municipal Partnerships – City economic development departments may offer grants, façade improvement programs, or forgivable loans.
  • Alumni Co-Investment Funds – Organize real estate investment clubs or syndicates among HBCU alumni. Use shared mission as shared capital.

A New Generation of Ownership

The big question isn’t whether vintage strip centers are viable. The question is: who will own them?

Will they be scooped up by private equity firms chasing yield? Or will HBCU alumni seize the chance to claim, restore, and transform these assets into hubs of Black entrepreneurship and economic mobility?

Real estate has always been about timing and this is the moment.

If we don’t buy the land, we don’t control the future. But if we do—wisely, collectively, strategically—then a strip center in the shadow of an HBCU can become the foundation of a Black economic dynasty.

Bottom Line

Old retail centers aren’t just retail they are real estate that still works. And right now, they’re one of the most underrated opportunities in commercial real estate.

With vision, planning, and mission-driven capital, HBCU alumni can turn tired retail into thriving centers of community wealth. Not every asset class allows you to be both landlord and legacy builder. But this one does.

The future isn’t always new. Sometimes, it’s renovated.

Disclaimer: This article was assisted by ChatGPT.

(We Were Wrong) Beyond the $30 Billion: Why African American Boys Require a Longer, Costlier Educational Climb

In a recent analysis published by HBCU Money, we argued that a $30 billion endowment would be sufficient to close the associate degree attainment gap between African American men and their women counterparts. The logic was elegant in its simplicity: take 50,000 African American men annually who are missing from associate degree completion, provide each with $30,000 per year—covering tuition, housing, and basic support—and the gender gap in Black post-secondary education begins to narrow. We were wrong – very wrong.

It is a compelling proposal, steeped in demographic logic and economic urgency. But elegant does not mean complete. If higher education is a pipeline, then this approach merely caps a leaky valve at the end of the conduit. The real structural deficiency lies upstream—far upstream. The associate degree gap is not born at age 18. It is the cumulative effect of educational disparities that take root as early as age 3 and metastasize through adolescence. The sobering truth is this: by the time African American boys reach college age, a significant portion have already been statistically written out of the academic script.

To reverse that fate, to genuinely provide parity in academic opportunity and outcomes for African American boys, would require not a $30 billion endowment, but a new institutional architecture rooted in Afrocentric values, collective capital, and global Black solidarity.

The Persistent Early Gap

The academic challenges of African American boys begin not in college, but in kindergarten. According to the National Assessment of Educational Progress (NAEP), by the fourth grade, over 85% of African American boys are reading below grade level—an early indicator that portends long-term academic disadvantage. This early literacy gap is not anomalous. It is systemic and persistent.

Studies show that reading proficiency by the third grade is a leading predictor of high school graduation, incarceration, and lifetime earnings. Yet African American boys are often consigned to underfunded schools, taught by less experienced teachers, and disproportionately subjected to school disciplinary measures that remove them from instructional time. Suspension rates, for instance, are three times higher for Black boys than their White peers, often for subjective offenses like “willful defiance” or “disrespect.” The gap becomes a chasm.

In math, the picture is no better. By eighth grade, only 14% of African American boys score at or above the proficient level in mathematics, compared to over 40% of White boys. These figures reflect a system that neither recognizes nor remediates inequity early enough. If education is the great equalizer, it has yet to live up to its billing for Black boys.

The Endowment Illusion

The $30 billion associate degree endowment, calculated on the basis of a 5% annual return, yields $1.5 billion in perpetuity—enough to support 50,000 students at $30,000 per annum. Yet, that only addresses the symptom of educational inequality, not the cause. True solutions must draw from a cultural legacy of African American educational institution-building that spans from the Freedmen’s Bureau to HBCUs to freedom schools. In order to even arrive at the starting line of post-secondary education, a comprehensive educational investment must begin in early childhood and follow through until high school graduation.

Let us imagine a program that supports 50,000 African American boys per year from age 5 to age 18—a full 13-year K-12 education track. This support would include high-quality preschool, experienced teachers with cultural competency, supplemental tutoring, mental health services, STEM and arts enrichment, parental engagement programs, and college readiness support. At a conservative cost of $10,000 per student per year (a figure aligned with successful charter networks like KIPP and Success Academies), the total cost would be $130,000 per student across their K-12 experience. Multiply this by 50,000 students per cohort and you arrive at an annual outlay of $6.5 billion.

To sustain such an initiative in perpetuity with a 5% endowment return, the required endowment would be $130 billion. And this is merely to bring these students up to average outcomes.

From Parity to Excellence

Parity, however, is not the goal. African American boys do not merely need to catch up; they must be positioned to compete at the highest levels of academic achievement. That means cultivating talent pipelines that reach into gifted education, elite science competitions, top-tier university admissions, and entrepreneurial ventures.

This level of academic excellence requires not just catching up, but leapfrogging. It means summer academies at HBCUs, AP and IB course preparation, access to dual-enrollment programs, mentorship by professionals, scholarships for out-of-school opportunities, and extended learning days. According to data from the Jack Kent Cooke Foundation, programs that support high-achieving students from disadvantaged backgrounds can cost between $5,000 and $10,000 annually per student, in addition to standard educational expenditures. But to leave no doubt, we must go above and beyond even the $10,000 annually.

If we allocate an additional $15,000 annually to the $10,000 base cost to foster excellence, we reach $25,000 per student per year, or $325,000 over 13 years. For 50,000 students, the annual cost rises to $16.25 billion. The endowment needed to sustain this model? $325 billion.

It is a daunting number. But it is one that puts the $30 billion associate-degree-only strategy into perspective. In reality, that $30 billion merely addresses the final 10% of the educational gap. The remaining 90% remains unfunded and unresolved.

The True Cost of a Kindergarten Cohort

To grasp the full scale of closing the education gap for African American boys, it is useful to broaden the lens beyond a cohort of 50,000 to include all Black boys entering kindergarten in a given year. According to the U.S. Census Bureau’s 2021 American Community Survey, there are approximately 254,000 African American boys enrolled in kindergarten in the United States.

If the aim is to ensure each of these boys receives high-quality, enriched education support—costing $10,000 per year from kindergarten through 12th grade—this results in a total cost of $130,000 per child across their 13-year pre-college journey.

Multiply this by 254,000 boys and the total cohort investment requirement becomes $33.02 billion.

To maintain this annually and support each new kindergarten cohort indefinitely, the endowment would need to provide $33.02 billion every year. With a conservative 5% return, this would require a $660.4 billion endowment—just to bring African American boys to average educational outcomes.

However, as previously argued, parity is not enough. To make these boys genuinely competitive with the highest-performing demographic groups—often White or Asian boys from affluent, well-resourced districts—an additional $15,000 per year per child would be required. This would cover gifted education, STEM academies, mentoring, tutoring, and college preparation resources. The total annual investment per student rises to $25,000, or $325,000 over 13 years.

At this enhanced level of investment, the cost for the entire cohort would total $82.6 billion per year.

To generate this perpetually from a 5% return, the requisite endowment would balloon to $1.7 trillion.

This almost multi-trillion-dollar figure is not hyperbole. It is the sober arithmetic of justice. The $30 billion endowment proposed for closing the associate degree gap appears generous—until it is juxtaposed with the lifelong investment actually required to ensure those young men ever reach a college classroom. In truth, the educational equity gap for African American boys is not a $30 billion problem; it is a $660 billion to $1.7 trillion problem.

A Demographic Catastrophe in Waiting

The implications of not investing early and deeply are severe. According to the U.S. Department of Education, African American boys represent just 8% of public school students but 33% of those suspended at least once. They are also overrepresented in special education and underrepresented in gifted and talented programs.

Incarceration rates mirror educational failure. Black men are six times more likely to be incarcerated than White men. Nearly 70% of all inmates are high school dropouts. The school-to-prison pipeline is not metaphor—it is infrastructure, one built on policy choices and funding gaps.

Moreover, the economic costs compound. A 2018 study by the Georgetown Center on Education and the Workforce found that closing racial education gaps would add trillions to U.S. GDP. Investing in African American boys’ education is not merely a moral imperative—it is an economic one.

Philanthropy Alone Will Not Suffice

One might reasonably ask: where will $325 billion—or $1.7 trillion—come from? That sum exceeds the current combined endowments of all HBCUs by a factor of over 50. Harvard University’s endowment—at roughly $50 billion—is still only a fraction of the required amount. Relying on philanthropy alone, especially given the racialized disparities in donor patterns, would be naïve.

Instead, what is needed is a hybrid model of public-private partnerships, federal-state philanthropic compacts, and structured endowment legislation. Just as the GI Bill transformed post-war White middle-class fortunes, so too must a generational investment in Black boys be treated as a national economic priority.

Such a policy could resemble the Social Security Trust Fund model, whereby a long-term capital pool is created and invested with fiduciary prudence, returning 5% annually. Contributions could be sourced through structured community bond offerings underwritten by Black-owned financial institutions, cooperative tithing networks across African American faith communities, and revenue-sharing agreements with diaspora enterprises committed to educational reparative justice, reparations frameworks, and HBCU-aligned investment vehicles.

An African American Male Youth Education Trust (AAMYET) could be codified through legislation and act as an autonomous entity with board representation from HBCUs, Black investment firms, educational experts, and community leaders. This would ensure the governance of the fund is as transformative as its purpose.

Institutional Infrastructure: The HBCU Opportunity

Any serious endowment strategy must inevitably route through the nation’s HBCUs, which have long served as both sanctuaries and springboards for African American excellence. With their mission-focused approach, deep community trust, and track record in producing African American professionals, HBCUs are ideally positioned to be the institutional stewards of such an initiative.

Their role could include operating early college academies, developing teacher pipelines specifically for Black boys, hosting summer STEM institutes, and coordinating alumni mentoring networks. A dedicated center—perhaps named The Center for the Advancement of African American Boys (CA3B)—could operate as a national think tank, research institute, and program incubator.

This center could live at an HBCU with strong education and public policy faculties such as Howard University or North Carolina A&T, reinforcing HBCUs as hubs of cultural knowledge, economic development, and intergenerational stewardship. It would be tasked with longitudinal data analysis, best-practices dissemination, and inter-HBCU coordination. Its mission: ensure the pipeline remains robust from age 5 through 25 and beyond.

Lessons from Elsewhere

There are precedents. The Harlem Children’s Zone, under Geoffrey Canada, demonstrated the compounding power of investing in children from birth to college. The program includes parenting classes, quality pre-K, rigorous charter schooling, after-school enrichment, and college counseling. It costs upward of $20,000 per child annually but has produced impressive graduation and college enrollment rates.

Similarly, the Kalamazoo Promise—a city-funded college scholarship program—has led to higher college completion rates, especially among students of color. Yet even these models often lack national scale and sustainable endowment backing.

The Politics of Boys

There is also an uncomfortable political dimension to funding African American boys. Much of the education philanthropy and policy discourse has centered—rightly—on Black girls and women, who experience their own unique forms of marginalization. But there is hesitancy, even fatigue, in specifically addressing the needs of boys, particularly in the wake of contentious debates around masculinity and privilege.

Yet the data speak clearly. Black boys are being academically outpaced not only by their White peers, but increasingly by their own sisters. The gender gap within the African American community is growing, with 66% of Black bachelor’s degrees awarded to women. To ignore this is to risk building a one-legged stool of advancement.

The conversation must therefore be reframed—not as a zero-sum battle of genders, but as a holistic pursuit of parity. A strong, educated Black male population strengthens Black families, communities, and institutions. And a $325 billion endowment for that cause is not extravagance—it is strategy.

A Different Return on Investment

Understanding the Endowment Logic

It is important to clarify that the $660 billion and $1.7 trillion endowment figures presented are not annual funding requirements. Rather, they represent the size of a one-time, permanent endowment needed to sustainably support African American boys across generations.

Much like university endowments, these funds would be invested, and the Cooperative would spend only the annual interest income—estimated conservatively at 5%—without ever touching the principal. This means a $1.7 trillion endowment would yield approximately $82.6 billion annually, which could be used to support the full cohort of 254,000 African American boys from kindergarten through 12th grade every year, in perpetuity.

In this model, once the endowment is built, there is no need to raise another $1.7 trillion for future cohorts. Each new generation is supported by the returns of a community-built financial engine—ensuring long-term stability, intergenerational continuity, and independence from political volatility.

In financial terms, $325 billion might appear colossal. But African American communities have learned through generations that self-reliance and institution-building are more durable paths to empowerment than waiting on national consensus. The federal government has consistently underinvested in the success of African American children, and there is little indication that this pattern will meaningfully reverse.

Instead, African American institutions—especially HBCUs, Black-owned banks, community foundations, and faith-based networks—must chart a Pan-Africanist course rooted in collective economic action. Just as African American communities once built schools under Jim Crow and funded college scholarships through Black churches and fraternal organizations, so too must this generation forge a new education endowment through cooperative wealth strategies.

A national African American Education Endowment Cooperative could be seeded with pooled resources from HBCU alumni, Black entrepreneurs, entertainers, athletes, and Pan-African allies across the diaspora. A modest $1,000 annual contribution from one million African Americans, matched by Black institutions and philanthropic partners, would yield $1 billion annually in capital formation. With prudent investment management, even that could lay the foundation for a $30 to $50 billion fund over a generation—entirely self-directed.

Moreover, diaspora investment from African nations seeking to strengthen transatlantic ties offers another opportunity. Countries like Ghana, Nigeria, and South Africa have both strategic interests and moral incentives to support African American educational uplift. A global Black education compact, co-stewarded by HBCUs and African ministries of education, could institutionalize these alliances.

The return? A generation of African American boys empowered not by charity but by communal sovereignty. Doctors, engineers, scientists, historians, entrepreneurs, and leaders grounded in African cultural capital and global competitiveness. To fund their ascension is not merely a financial imperative—it is a declaration of belief in our own capacity to shape the future on our own terms.

VentureX & The Biotech Boom: Lessons in Innovation Strategy for HBCUs from UTMB’s Institutional Pivot

“The future is not a place we are going. It is one we are inventing.” — John Schaar

While many HBCUs still seek validation in a PWI-centered research ecosystem, the University of Texas Medical Branch (UTMB) is doing something more audacious: redefining the rules of engagement. With its inaugural VentureX Summit, UTMB isn’t merely seeking grant money—it’s building an innovation economy. And HBCUs, if bold enough, could do the same.

In a summer dominated by political unrest and macroeconomic uncertainty, the University of Texas Medical Branch (UTMB) in Galveston, Texas, quietly launched what may prove to be one of the most strategically significant higher education events of the decade. The VentureX Summit, hosted on July 17, 2025, marked UTMB’s formal entrance into the growing arena of translational innovation—a sector where science, venture capital, and state-backed institutional development converge to shape the 21st-century economy.

For HBCUs, often relegated to the margins of federal and philanthropic investment in research, the implications of UTMB’s maneuver are profound. Not because UTMB is a peer—it isn’t. But because it offers a roadmap.

UTMB President Dr. Jochen Reiser didn’t mince words in his summit address. Education, research, and patient care were no longer enough. A “fourth pillar”—innovation—was now essential to institutional longevity, impact, and sovereignty. By formally integrating innovation into UTMB’s strategic framework, the institution is doing something few public universities in the South have dared: turning research into economic infrastructure.

This isn’t a rebranding exercise. It’s a full-throated shift in power orientation. UTMB’s Office of Technology Transfer has been reborn as the Office of Innovation & Commercialization, while the Life Science Incubator, adjacent to its research facilities, is being marketed as a landing zone for biotech startups, investors, and licensing agents alike.

Compare this with the strategic inertia found at most HBCUs. While many tout research agendas, few have even minimal infrastructure for commercialization. Fewer still think in terms of venture scalability or intellectual property portfolios. UTMB’s pivot exposes this gap—not as a deficiency of talent, but of institutional courage and vision.

The VentureX Summit focused heavily on kidney therapeutics—a seemingly narrow domain until you recognize that kidney disease costs the U.S. healthcare system nearly $130 billion annually, and disproportionately affects African Americans.

UTMB highlighted three major innovations during the summit: suPAR science, a biomarker-driven immune research platform that reframes the way inflammation and chronic disease are treated; anti-miR-17 for ADPKD, a therapy targeting polycystic kidney disease, recently acquired by Novartis; and Atacicept, a biologic aimed at IgA nephropathy, another major kidney condition with limited treatment options.

Each of these originated at UTMB and moved through stages of clinical validation, patent protection, startup spin-out, and either acquisition or venture partnership. The fact that these stories are not one-off flukes but institutionalized outputs is a direct result of UTMB’s realignment around innovation.

For HBCUs with schools of pharmacy, biology, or public health—particularly those serving communities with high chronic disease rates—this is a flashing neon signal. Owning the intellectual property that treats your community’s disease burden is not just good science. It’s power. It’s capital. It’s destiny.

A painful truth: HBCUs receive less than 1% of NIH research funding. The reasons range from grant-writing disparities and institutional size, to deeper systemic racism in peer review and proposal evaluation.

But what the VentureX Summit revealed is that institutions no longer need to center their R&D portfolios on NIH alone. The venture capital ecosystem—especially in biotech—is beginning to bypass the traditional federal-funding pipeline. Startups and scientists are courting angel investors, family offices, and strategic pharma partnerships earlier than ever.

This trend is significant for HBCUs because it decentralizes capital—opening doors beyond federal gatekeeping; rewards translational impact over pedigree; and allows for mission-aligned ventures—especially in diseases like diabetes, hypertension, and sickle cell that disproportionately affect African Americans.

Imagine a Howard University or Xavier University of Louisiana spinout that secures $5 million in seed capital to develop a culturally tailored mental health AI app. Or a consortium of HBCU researchers patenting an algorithm for early-stage dementia detection among Black elders. With the right infrastructure—IP management, deal-flow coaching, investor networks—this is no longer fantasy. It’s overdue.

That UTMB chose to host VentureX in Galveston, a city more often associated with hurricanes than high finance, is symbolic. It was not at the Texas Medical Center, nor at the flashier campuses of Austin or Dallas. Instead, UTMB used the summit to stake Galveston as a regional biotech innovation node, a move that builds on Houston’s recent success as a Brain Capital hub with Rice University and the Texas Medical Center Innovation Institute.

For HBCUs, particularly in the South, this strategy is critical. The clustering of biomedical and tech innovation around coastal cities like Boston, San Francisco, and Seattle has created access and visibility challenges. But regional clustering, especially when supported by state policy and university systems (as in Texas), creates a new terrain—one that Southern HBCUs like Meharry, Tuskegee, Florida A&M, or Prairie View A&M could dominate.

The key is not just research. It’s the integration of policy, capital, and narrative—what UTMB has shown is possible.

Let’s imagine that a group of HBCUs—say, North Carolina A&T, Howard, Jackson State, and Xavier—joined together to create an annual Black HealthTech Innovation Summit.

Its components could mirror VentureX: showcasing translational research in diabetes, maternal health, cancer, and neurodegeneration; pitch competitions where researchers and student-founders present to Black-owned VCs, foundations, and corporate venture arms; investor speed networking to build relationships beyond the conference walls; and policy roundtables with state legislators to promote technology transfer tax incentives and university IP protections.

This could be rotated annually among campuses, forming the basis of a HBCU Tech Transfer Consortium, modeled after the University of California’s system-wide innovation strategy or Texas’s CPRIT (Cancer Prevention and Research Institute of Texas) fund.

Beyond optics, such a summit would provide a platform to rewrite the power structure of Black health, wealth, and innovation. It would signal to both the federal government and philanthropic sector that HBCUs are not just asking for funding—they are offering investable opportunity.

One of the less discussed but perhaps most important takeaways from UTMB’s summit was the sheer willingness to claim space in the innovation economy. While other universities remain passive, waiting for “innovation” to emerge organically, UTMB made clear that innovation is a designed outcome, not an accidental one.

This is where many HBCUs fall short. The fear of failure, of overreach, of stepping outside the traditional academic role, looms large. But UTMB’s leadership—and the state of Texas—are demonstrating that academic institutions can be architects of economic infrastructure, not just participants.

This is a mindset shift.

For HBCUs to replicate UTMB’s success, they must invest in tech transfer offices staffed with professionals who understand patents, licensing, and venture capital—not just compliance officers; build research parks and incubators that bridge the university with startup ecosystems; champion internal innovation competitions where faculty and students propose scalable solutions to community problems—with funding and follow-up; and cultivate industry partnerships that go beyond recruiting to include co-development and revenue-sharing IP agreements.

The VentureX Summit offered a model of regional self-determination wrapped in a biotech suit. But for African American institutions, it carries heavier implications. Innovation, in this context, is not just about research prestige. It’s about ownership, equity, and the future of Black health and wealth.

Just as land ownership, education, and voting rights were once the battlegrounds of civil rights, ownership of innovation ecosystems must become a new frontline. Because if we are not at the table—writing the patents, launching the startups, leading the trials—then we will once again find ourselves as the subject, not the author, of the future.

HBCUs must now ask: Are we ready to hold a summit of our own? Or will we remain an afterthought in the innovation economy we helped build?

Why BLS Unemployment Data Gets Revised: A Case Study in Accuracy, Trust, and African American Labor Trends

Every month, the Bureau of Labor Statistics releases employment data that shapes market sentiment, economic forecasts, and policymaking. From interest rate decisions at the Federal Reserve to unemployment insurance triggers at the state level, the influence of BLS data is far-reaching. And yet, with each release, one often overlooked note quietly accompanies the data: subject to revision.

To the uninformed, this might suggest inaccuracy or even manipulation. But the reality is rooted in how data is collected, processed, and interpreted. The act of revising economic data is not a flaw but a fundamental feature of any statistical system that prioritizes accuracy over speed. This article explores why the BLS revises its data, the mechanics of seasonally adjusted vs. not seasonally adjusted numbers, and how a real-world dataset employment among African American women in 2025 illustrates the complexity of labor market measurement.

The Bureau of Labor Statistics, founded in 1884, is the principal fact-finding agency for the U.S. federal government in the field of labor economics. Its core function is to measure labor market activity, working conditions, and price changes in the economy.

Among its most closely followed outputs is the monthly Employment Situation Report, which contains data on job growth or loss, unemployment rates, participation rates, and hours worked. These figures often headline national news and affect everything from political discourse to stock market performance. But the collection and interpretation of labor data is a dynamic process. No matter how carefully designed the surveys are, initial data releases are based on incomplete information and statistical models that must later be refined.

The BLS relies on two primary surveys to produce monthly employment estimates:

  • Current Population Survey (CPS): Also known as the household survey, this samples about 60,000 households and is the source for data on unemployment, labor force participation, and demographic breakdowns.
  • Current Employment Statistics (CES): Also known as the establishment survey, this collects payroll data from roughly 122,000 businesses and government agencies, covering over 666,000 worksites.

Because of tight deadlines for monthly releases—typically the first Friday of the following month—some employer reports are late, households may be unreachable, and administrative records may not yet be available. As more responses arrive over time, the BLS incorporates the additional data, which leads to two monthly revisions: a first revision one month later and a second revision two months after the initial release.

There is also an annual benchmark revision, where the BLS aligns employment data to comprehensive counts derived from state unemployment insurance tax records, which cover nearly all employers.

These revisions are not signs of incompetence or hidden agendas. Rather, they reflect the reality that high-frequency data collection must balance timeliness with completeness. Initial estimates are snapshots; revisions bring the picture into higher resolution.

Understanding Seasonally Adjusted vs. Not Seasonally Adjusted Data

Another common source of confusion is the distinction between seasonally adjusted (SA) and not seasonally adjusted (NSA) figures.

  • Not Seasonally Adjusted (NSA): These are raw numbers taken directly from survey results. They reflect real, unaltered employment counts.
  • Seasonally Adjusted (SA): These figures are modified using statistical models that remove predictable seasonal fluctuations—such as increased hiring in December or reduced construction jobs in winter.

Seasonal adjustment allows for clearer comparisons of month-to-month changes without the noise of recurring seasonal events. For example, employment traditionally rises in retail in November and December and drops in January. Without adjustment, these fluctuations could lead to misinterpretation of actual trends.

However, seasonal models rely on historical patterns. If a new shock occurs—such as a pandemic, atypical weather events, or irregular policy shifts—these models may not capture reality perfectly, requiring future refinements and adjustments to the seasonal factors themselves.

A Practical Example: African American Women’s Employment, 2025

To illustrate how data revisions and seasonal adjustments interact, consider the seasonally adjusted number of employed African American women over five consecutive months in 2025:

  • March 2025: 10.300 million
  • April 2025: 10.260 million
  • May 2025: 10.332 million
  • June 2025: 10.248 million
  • July 2025: 10.247 million

At first glance, this dataset may seem inconsistent. Why the decline in April, a surge in May, and subsequent declines in June and July?

Several points are worth unpacking:

  1. Magnitude of Monthly Change
    These monthly movements, ranging from about 50,000 to 80,000, may appear marginal, but in labor market terms, they represent significant shifts. These could be due to school-year employment cycles, changes in public-sector hiring, or temporary retail and service jobs.
  2. Temporary Effects
    The uptick in May could represent a short-term employment increase due to localized or sector-specific conditions—perhaps related to summer hiring, public campaigns, or fiscal year-end budgeting by employers. However, this doesn’t necessarily indicate a sustained improvement, as shown by June and July numbers.
  3. Plateau, Not Decline
    While there are ups and downs, the broader range—from 10.248 to 10.332 million—suggests a labor market that is relatively flat during this period. The volatility may be more reflective of sector churn than structural change.

If a future revision updates, for instance, July’s figure from 10.247 to 10.280 million, that revision would adjust interpretations about labor market strength. It may indicate more robust hiring than originally estimated. Conversely, a downward revision could reinforce a stagnation narrative. Revisions are standard practice across all major economic indicators. GDP figures are revised multiple times. Inflation statistics may be reweighted to reflect changing consumption patterns. The Census Bureau revises retail sales and trade data regularly.

In labor market statistics, revisions are particularly common because of the sheer scale and complexity of the data. Millions of businesses and households are involved, each contributing a piece of the larger puzzle. Moreover, revisions are conducted transparently. The BLS publishes revision histories, explains methodological changes, and allows the public to compare original and revised estimates. This openness is central to the integrity of the data, even if the revisions themselves can be politically or emotionally misunderstood.

A revision of 50,000 jobs may not seem impactful in an economy with over 150 million employed people. But such changes are statistically meaningful. For example, Federal Reserve interest rate decisions are often influenced by whether job growth appears to be accelerating or decelerating. A 0.1% change in employment may be the tipping point for a policy decision affecting credit costs for millions.

Revisions also matter for planning and budgeting by states, corporations, and local governments. Employment trends influence tax revenues, hiring plans, and social program allocations. A misinterpretation of the underlying data even if unintentional can have ripple effects through the economy.

While the BLS aims for statistical precision, the public conversation around the data is often shaped by headline figures and political narratives. This can result in overemphasis on preliminary numbers, even though they are explicitly marked as subject to change. It is important for observers, journalists, policymakers, and analysts to understand that early data is an estimate. Just as weather forecasts become more accurate as the date approaches, labor statistics become more reliable as more data is incorporated and models are refined.

Understanding the architecture behind the data helps prevent premature or inaccurate conclusions about the state of the economy. The BLS operates under dual pressure: provide timely data and ensure its long-term accuracy. These goals are inherently in tension, but both are critical. Without timely data, markets and policymakers would be flying blind. Without accuracy, trust in the data would erode, leading to poor decisions and broader skepticism of institutions.

Revisions are not a sign of error. They are the result of a methodical, transparent process aimed at refining the initial picture of the economy into a more complete and accurate one. For analysts and observers, the lesson is simple: understand the process, treat early numbers with caution, and always look at the data—both in the moment and over time—as a moving picture, not a still fram

Disclaimer: This article was assisted by ChatGPT.

African America’s July 2025 Jobs Report – 7.2%

Overall Unemployment: 4.1%

African America: 7.2%

Latino America: 4.8%

European America: 3.7%

Asian America: 3.5%

Analysis: European Americans’ unemployment rate increased 10 basis points. Asian Americans increased 40 basis points and Latino Americans increased 20 basis points from June, respectively. African America’s unemployment rate increased by 40 basis points from June.

AFRICAN AMERICAN EMPLOYMENT REVIEW

AFRICAN AMERICAN MEN: 

Unemployment Rate – 7.0%

Participation Rate – 67.9%

Employed – 9,623,000

Unemployed – 723,000

African American Men (AAM) saw a increase in their unemployment rate by 10 basis points in July. The group had a precipitous drop in their participation rate in July by 90 basis points. African American Men lost 129,000 jobs in July and saw their number of unemployed increase by 2,000.

AFRICAN AMERICAN WOMEN: 

Unemployment Rate – 6.3%

Participation Rate – 61.1%

Employed – 10,247,000

Unemployed – 694,000

African American Women saw a increase in their unemployment rate by 50 basis points in July. The group increased their participation rate in July by 20 basis points. African American Women lost 1,000 jobs in July and saw their number of unemployed increase by 60,000.

AFRICAN AMERICAN TEENAGERS:

Unemployment Rate – 21.7%

Participation Rate – 29.2%

Employed – 614,000

Unemployed – 170,000

African American Teenagers unemployment rate increased by 250 basis points. The group saw their participation rate decreased by 80 basis points in July. African American Teenagers added 37,000 jobs in July and saw their number of unemployed also increase 15,000.

African American Men-Women Job Gap: African American Women currently have 624,000 more jobs than African American Men in July. This is an increase from 496,000 in June.

CONCLUSION: The overall economy added 73,000 jobs in July while African America lost 166,000 jobs. From CNBC, “This is a gamechanger jobs report,” said Heather Long, chief economist at Navy Federal Credit Union. “The labor market is deteriorating quickly.” The weak report, including the dramatic revisions, could provide incentive for the Federal Reserve to lower interest rates when it next meets in September. Following the report, futures traders raised the odds of a cut at the meeting to 75.5%, up from 40% on Thursday, according to CME Group data.”

Source: Bureau of Labor Statistics