Category Archives: Business

Bringing New Faces to the Global Shipping Industry: A Nod to Garvey & Black Star Line

Posted on October 14, 2025 by | Leave a comment

“A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are for.” – Grace Hopper

 The global shipping industry is the backbone of world trade, moving 90% of goods across the seas, yet it remains a sector with limited diversity. Despite the industry’s significance in shaping the global economy, the workforce is largely homogeneous, primarily composed of men from developed nations, particularly those in Europe and East Asia. However, in a rapidly changing global landscape, diversity has become an asset. A more inclusive workforce is vital for fostering innovation and addressing the industry’s evolving challenges, from sustainability to technological disruptions. Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs) are uniquely positioned to play a transformative role in reshaping the future of the global shipping industry. This article will explore how HBCUs can contribute to diversifying the global shipping workforce through entrepreneurship, engineering programs, and the development of new financial models, while also looking at opportunities for HBCUs to collaborate with Sub-Saharan African nations to strengthen their shipping economies.

The global shipping industry is vast, encompassing everything from container ships that carry goods across oceans to ports that manage cargo and logistics operations. According to the United Nations Conference on Trade and Development (UNCTAD), the shipping industry moves over 11 billion tons of goods every year, with more than 50,000 merchant ships currently in operation. The economic significance of the shipping sector cannot be overstated, as it is integral to the functioning of international trade.

However, while the industry generates trillions of dollars in revenue annually, it is also a sector that faces numerous challenges. These include overcapacity, rising fuel prices, environmental concerns, labor shortages, and increasing automation. As these challenges mount, the need for innovative solutions becomes more urgent. This is where a more diverse workforce can make a meaningful impact. Diverse perspectives in leadership, engineering, and operations can fuel the creative thinking necessary to solve the industry’s complex problems.

HBCUs, institutions of higher learning that were founded with the mission of educating African Americans, have long been at the forefront of producing professionals who excel in a variety of fields, including engineering, law, business, and the sciences. Engineering programs at HBCUs are known for their robust curriculum, which emphasizes both theoretical foundations and practical applications. For example, institutions such as Howard University, Tuskegee University, and Morgan State University have long had strong engineering programs that prepare students for careers in industries such as aerospace, civil engineering, and electrical engineering.

In the context of global shipping, engineering graduates from HBCUs could bring fresh perspectives to the industry. The need for highly skilled engineers in the shipping sector is crucial, particularly in the fields of automation, sustainable shipping technologies, and shipbuilding. Many shipping companies are already embracing automation, with some vessels being operated with minimal human intervention. However, as technology advances, the need for engineers who can design, implement, and maintain these technologies will only grow.

The shortage of engineers in the shipping industry is a pressing issue. According to a 2020 study by the International Transport Workers Federation (ITF), there is a growing need for skilled workers, particularly as the sector embraces digitalization and automation. This presents a major opportunity for HBCUs to expand their engineering programs and tailor them to the specific needs of the shipping industry. HBCUs can offer specialized courses in maritime engineering, shipbuilding, logistics systems, and sustainable shipping practices.

Entrepreneurship is another area where HBCUs can make a significant impact in the global shipping industry. While much of the shipping industry has been dominated by large multinational corporations, there is room for smaller, innovative companies that can introduce new business models and technologies. Entrepreneurship in shipping could involve the creation of new logistics companies, port management systems, or innovative shipping technologies.

HBCUs have a long history of nurturing entrepreneurs who have gone on to make significant contributions to various industries. The entrepreneurship programs at HBCUs often focus on fostering leadership, problem-solving skills, and creativity, all of which are essential for succeeding in the competitive world of shipping. HBCU alumni have made notable contributions to industries as diverse as technology, entertainment, and healthcare. With the global shipping industry ripe for disruption, there is an opportunity to create a new generation of Black entrepreneurs who can innovate in this space.

One possible avenue for entrepreneurship in the shipping industry is the development of sustainable shipping solutions. The International Maritime Organization (IMO) has set ambitious targets for reducing greenhouse gas emissions from the shipping industry, with a goal of cutting emissions by 50% by 2050. HBCUs, with their strong engineering programs, could become key players in developing technologies that reduce the environmental impact of shipping. From energy-efficient vessels to the use of alternative fuels, there is ample room for innovation.

Another area of opportunity lies in the logistics and supply chain sector, which has become more important than ever in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic. The shipping industry has seen unprecedented disruptions in supply chains, which has led to a renewed focus on resilience and flexibility. HBCUs can help foster the next generation of leaders in supply chain management, creating businesses that help move goods more efficiently and cost-effectively.

In addition to engineering and entrepreneurship, financial institutions and models are another critical area where HBCUs can help reshape the global shipping industry. The role of Black-owned banks and investment firms is particularly important, as they can provide the necessary capital for new ventures and innovations in shipping.

Black banks, such as OneUnited Bank and the Carver Federal Savings Bank, play a critical role in financing businesses in underserved communities. However, they also have the potential to play a key role in financing global industries like shipping. As the shipping sector increasingly looks for ways to incorporate sustainability into its operations, there is a growing demand for green financing, which focuses on funding projects that have a positive environmental impact.

HBCUs can play a critical role in helping Black banks navigate this growing demand. HBCU alumni with backgrounds in finance, business, and engineering can help shape financial products that support sustainable shipping projects. For example, a specialized green shipping fund could be created to finance the development of more sustainable vessels, port facilities, or supply chain innovations. Such initiatives could also foster closer ties between Black-owned banks and the global shipping industry, creating opportunities for greater access to capital for emerging shipping companies.

In addition, Black-owned investment firms could become key players in the growing trend of impact investing. By focusing on companies that prioritize environmental, social, and governance (ESG) factors, Black investors can help drive change in the shipping sector by funding companies that prioritize sustainability, diversity, and innovation.

While engineering and entrepreneurship are critical to diversifying the shipping industry, it is also important to recognize the variety of other career paths within the shipping ecosystem. These roles, which range from logistics and supply chain management to port operations and maritime law, also present opportunities for HBCU graduates.

Logistics and supply chain management, in particular, is an area where HBCUs can have a significant impact. The increasing complexity of global trade requires professionals who understand not only how to move goods across borders but also how to manage and optimize the flow of goods at every step of the journey. HBCUs can help train the next generation of logistics professionals who can work in every facet of the supply chain, from procurement to distribution.

Port operations and management is another key area of opportunity. Ports are the critical juncture in the global shipping process, and they require skilled professionals who can oversee operations, manage labor forces, and ensure that goods are moved efficiently and safely. HBCUs can help fill this gap by offering specialized training in port management and logistics operations.

Furthermore, the global shipping industry requires legal professionals who understand maritime law and international trade regulations. Maritime law is a complex field that requires expertise in areas such as insurance, shipping contracts, and international treaties. HBCUs, with their robust law programs, can help train future lawyers who will specialize in these areas, creating opportunities for Black professionals to shape the legal framework of the global shipping industry.

Sub-Saharan Africa, with its vast coastline and strategic positioning along key maritime routes, has significant untapped potential in the global shipping industry. African nations have long faced challenges in building sustainable shipping economies due to inadequate infrastructure, limited human capital, and heavy reliance on foreign shipping companies. However, the region is increasingly prioritizing infrastructure development, trade facilitation, and regional economic integration, creating opportunities for collaboration with HBCUs.

Educational Partnerships and Training Programs

One of the most immediate opportunities for HBCUs lies in the development of educational partnerships that address the skills gap in Sub-Saharan Africa’s shipping and logistics sectors. HBCUs can collaborate with African universities to offer joint programs in maritime engineering, logistics management, and maritime law, developing a local workforce capable of managing and optimizing African ports and shipping fleets.

Entrepreneurship and Innovation in Shipping

HBCUs can help African nations build sustainable infrastructure solutions by training entrepreneurs to develop local shipping companies, port management systems, and innovative logistics technologies. The emphasis on green shipping innovations, such as energy-efficient vessels and alternative fuels, could help Sub-Saharan Africa become a leader in sustainable maritime solutions.

Collaborative Research and Development

R&D partnerships between HBCUs and Sub-Saharan African countries can drive technological innovation in shipping, from automation and digitalization to sustainable shipping practices. HBCUs can collaborate with African governments to improve port efficiency, reduce congestion, and optimize the flow of goods across borders.

Financial Partnerships and Investment Opportunities

HBCUs can also partner with Black-owned investment firms and African development banks to fund shipping infrastructure projects in Sub-Saharan Africa. Through collaboration, these institutions can help finance the modernization of ports and shipbuilding projects, fostering local businesses and reducing the region’s dependency on foreign shipping companies.

The global shipping industry faces significant challenges as it adapts to a rapidly changing world, from the rise of automation to the imperative of sustainability. To meet these challenges, the industry needs a diverse and innovative workforce that can think outside the box and create new solutions. Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs), with their strong engineering programs, entrepreneurial spirit, and commitment to producing talented professionals, are uniquely positioned to help diversify the global shipping industry. By expanding their curricula, fostering entrepreneurship, and strengthening ties with Black banks and investment firms, HBCUs can help shape the future of the global shipping industry, bringing new faces, ideas, and opportunities to this critical sector of the global economy. Moreover, through partnerships with Sub-Saharan African countries, HBCUs can play a transformative role in building sustainable shipping economies in the region, fostering regional integration, and reducing dependence on foreign shipping companies. These efforts not only contribute to the development of Sub-Saharan Africa but also strengthen the global shipping industry by introducing new voices, technologies, and business models that promote greater sustainability and innovation.

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From Exclusion to Empowerment: How HOAs Can Protect Black Neighborhoods

Posted on September 30, 2025 by | Leave a comment

“Revolution is based on land. Land is the basis of all independence. Land is the basis of freedom, justice, and equality.” – Malcolm X 

Few institutions have carried the weight of controversy in American housing like the homeowners’ association (HOA). For much of the 20th century, HOAs were weaponized as a tool of institutional racism restricting African Americans from buying into White neighborhoods through deed covenants, enforcing exclusionary zoning, and serving as gatekeepers of generational wealth accumulation. The very mechanism of neighborhood governance became one more way African America was told “you do not belong.” Yet history has a way of flipping its instruments. The very structural force once used to keep us out may be one of the few institutional levers available to keep us in. As gentrification and predatory development rapidly encroach upon historically African American communities from Houston’s Third Ward to Atlanta’s West End, from Washington D.C.’s Shaw to New Orleans’ Tremé, the need for institutional tools of land sovereignty grows urgent. Civic associations, while noble, often lack teeth. It may be time for African American neighborhoods to rethink the HOA, not as a relic of exclusion but as a shield of survival.

Most African American neighborhoods today rely on civic clubs or neighborhood associations. These bodies are typically voluntary, underfunded, and lack the legal authority to enforce community decisions. They can advocate to city councils, organize block cleanups, and serve as a cultural glue, but when it comes to confronting a developer with millions in capital and legal teams, they are simply outgunned. Civic associations cannot foreclose properties when owners ignore rules or dues, build substantial war chests because dues are voluntary and non-enforceable, or control property transfers when long-time residents sell. This means that even when a neighborhood is organized and has strong social cohesion, it remains structurally weak in the face of predatory real estate activity. Developers exploit this weakness buying distressed properties, lobbying city officials for zoning changes, and rapidly altering the fabric of communities without consent.

Unlike civic clubs, HOAs are legally binding entities. When properly designed and governed, they give communities leverage that is otherwise impossible. The ability to foreclose ensures compliance and funding. If dues are unpaid, the HOA has a mechanism to protect the community’s collective interests. Mandatory dues create a stable revenue stream. A community with 200 homes each contributing $500 annually generates $100,000. Over five years, that becomes half a million which is enough to hire lawyers, challenge city zoning, and even purchase properties outright. This institutional capital transforms neighborhoods from reactive to proactive. HOAs can also insert right-of-first-refusal clauses, allowing them to buy homes before they go to outside investors, preventing predatory acquisitions and allowing neighborhoods to decide who their neighbors will be and what developments fit the collective vision. Rules around property maintenance, density, and usage can prevent developers from converting single-family homes into high-turnover rentals or Airbnbs. These standards are not just about aesthetics they are about protecting neighborhood identity and safety.

To advocate HOAs for African American communities is not to ignore their history. For decades, HOAs were bastions of exclusion. They operated in tandem with banks, appraisers, and city planners to enforce segregation. Deed restrictions openly barred African Americans and other minorities from ownership. Even when those covenants became unenforceable after Shelley v. Kraemer (1948), HOAs found new ways to enforce segregation through indirect mechanisms. But history also shows how institutions can be repurposed. Universities once denied African Americans; now HBCUs are among our strongest institutions. Banks once denied us credit; now Black-owned banks serve as pillars of community capital. The HOA, when reimagined under African American sovereignty, can become not a wall keeping us out, but a fortress keeping us in.

Houston’s Third Ward is emblematic. A historically Black neighborhood anchored by Texas Southern University, it has been ground zero for gentrification. Developers like TPC Endeavors LLC have defied city red tags, continued illegal construction, and ignored deed restrictions designed to protect single-family character. Residents organized, called 311, attended City Council meetings but the civic tools they had were insufficient. Enforcement by the city was lax. Meanwhile, developers were renting red-tagged properties as Airbnbs. Imagine if Third Ward had a robust HOA structure. With mandatory dues, it could hire legal counsel to file injunctions. With right-of-first-refusal, it could have purchased properties neighbors wished to sell, keeping them out of speculative hands. With codified rules, it could have legally enforced single-family restrictions, protecting housing stock for families rather than transient rentals. Instead, the community is stuck fighting asymmetrical battles, people with civic will against people with institutional power. The outcome, absent intervention, is predictable: displacement.

At its core, the case for African American HOAs is about institutional economics, the accumulation of collective capital to withstand systemic pressures. The median net worth of White households is nearly eight times that of Black households. Real estate is the largest component of wealth for African American families. When neighborhoods gentrify, this wealth is not preserved; it is extracted. HOAs serve as protectors of that capital by stabilizing community land values under African American governance. They enable neighborhoods to pool financial and legal resources to resist external exploitation. They foster long-term family residence, giving children environments with consistent community standards, building social and cultural capital alongside financial wealth. HOAs also enable neighborhoods to act like firms: they can engage developers on their own terms, negotiate concessions, or even partner in development deals that align with community interests.

Of course, HOAs are not a panacea. Poorly run HOAs can become abusive or corrupt, mirroring the very forces they are meant to resist. Mandatory payments can strain low-income residents, though creative structures such as sliding scales, subsidies, or partnerships with HBCUs and community foundations can mitigate this. Forming an HOA requires legal expertise and state recognition, which many African American communities lack immediate access to, though partnerships with HBCU law schools could be a solution. Neighborhoods may resist HOAs due to historical mistrust or fear of bureaucracy. Education campaigns and transparent governance are crucial.

The HBCU ecosystem has a unique role to play. Many HBCUs are surrounded by historically Black neighborhoods now under siege from gentrification. These institutions could provide the technical, legal, and financial scaffolding for community HOAs. Law schools could draft HOA charters and litigate against predatory developers. Business schools could train HOA boards in financial management. Architecture and urban planning programs could design neighborhood development standards. University endowments could provide seed capital to help HOAs acquire distressed properties. If HBCUs become the backbone of HOA development, they transform from being passive neighbors to active protectors of Black land sovereignty.

Imagine a network of African American HOAs across the country, each tied to local HBCUs, each building collective war chests, each controlling neighborhood development. Together, they form a patchwork of institutional sovereignty one block at a time, one neighborhood at a time. This is not just about resisting gentrification. It is about reclaiming agency over land, the foundational asset of all wealth and power. Without land sovereignty, African American communities will forever be tenants in someone else’s design. With HOAs, we have the chance to rewrite that story.

While HOAs have been historically tainted by their role in exclusion, African America must confront a hard truth: institutional problems require institutional solutions. Civic will, without institutional teeth, cannot withstand predatory capital. HOAs, properly structured and governed, give our neighborhoods enforcement power, financial capacity, and development control. Land sovereignty is not optional; it is existential. Gentrification is not just about higher rents or new coffee shops, it is about the slow erasure of African American communities from the map. If we are to remain, to build intergenerational wealth, and to strengthen our institutional power, then we must be willing to use every tool available. The HOA may have once been a weapon against us. It can now be the fortress that protects us.

Model HOA Framework for African American Communities

1. Charter Outline

A. Name and Purpose

  • Name: [Neighborhood Name] Community Land Trust HOA
  • Mission: To preserve and protect African American homeownership, stabilize property values, and foster community-driven development.
  • Objectives:
    1. Protect neighborhood land from predatory acquisition and gentrification.
    2. Maintain architectural and cultural integrity of the neighborhood.
    3. Build collective financial resources for legal, development, and maintenance initiatives.
    4. Empower residents with decision-making authority over neighborhood development.

B. Membership

  • All property owners within the HOA boundary are automatically members.
  • Membership is determined by the community.
  • Voting rights are proportional to ownership, with one vote per property.

C. Governance Structure

  • Board of Directors: 5–9 elected members serving staggered three-year terms.
  • Committees:
    • Finance & Investment Committee
    • Architectural & Community Standards Committee
    • Legal & Advocacy Committee
    • Outreach & Education Committee
  • Decision-making: Major decisions (property acquisition, legal action, development approvals) require a 2/3 majority vote of the board and approval by 50%+1 of voting members.

D. Covenants and Bylaws

  • Rules governing property use, maintenance, and modifications.
  • Right-of-first-refusal on property sales to maintain African American ownership and prevent predatory acquisitions.
  • Restrictions on commercial rental operations (e.g., short-term rentals like Airbnb) unless approved by the board.
  • Enforcement of community standards through fines, liens, and, if necessary, foreclosure.

2. Funding Structure

A. Mandatory Dues

  • Base dues calculated per household (example: $500–$1,000/year depending on neighborhood size and needs).
  • Sliding scale or hardship exemptions for low-income homeowners, with supplemental funding from foundations or HBCUs.

B. Special Assessments

  • Imposed for extraordinary needs such as legal battles, property acquisition, or infrastructure repairs.
  • Must be approved by majority vote of HOA members.

C. Reserve Fund / War Chest

  • 25–30% of annual dues set aside into a reserve fund for long-term projects or emergency legal needs.
  • Goal: Maintain liquidity to purchase at-risk properties and fund legal actions without delay.

D. Partnerships & Grants

  • Collaborate with HBCUs, local Black-owned banks, and philanthropic foundations for technical and financial support.
  • Seek grants specifically for community land trusts, anti-gentrification initiatives, or neighborhood revitalization.

E. The HOA Investment Fund

  • Neighborhood Endowment: A portion of dues is invested to build a long-term community fund. This endowment can invest in local African American businesses, the stock market, or other vetted opportunities. Returns are used to subsidize senior citizens and low-income residents, provide relief during emergencies, and strengthen the HOA’s financial independence.
  • Emergency Fund: A dedicated reserve for disasters, legal challenges, or community emergencies.
  • Special Assessments: Levied for large projects (legal defense, infrastructure, property acquisition).

3. Enforcement Mechanisms

A. Fines and Liens

  • Fines for non-compliance with HOA rules (maintenance, property use, etc.).
  • Unpaid fines converted into liens that attach to the property.

B. Legal Authority

  • Covenants provide authority to take legal action against violators, including:
    • Enforcing property use restrictions
    • Preventing unauthorized sales or rentals
    • Challenging predatory development through court injunctions

C. Foreclosure

  • In extreme cases of non-payment or serious violations, the HOA has the right to foreclose on the property to protect collective community interests.
  • Requires board approval and due process, with transparency to all members.

D. Right-of-First-Refusal

  • The HOA can purchase homes before they are sold to external buyers.
  • Maintains neighborhood ownership continuity and allows control over development aligned with community goals.

4. Community Engagement and Education

  • Regular town halls and workshops on:
    • Financial literacy and collective wealth building
    • Understanding HOA powers and responsibilities
    • Recognizing predatory developers and speculative practices
  • Partnerships with local HBCUs to provide pro bono legal clinics, urban planning advice, and leadership development for HOA board members.
  • Volunteer committees for property upkeep, neighborhood beautification, and cultural preservation.

5. Oversight and Accountability

  • Annual audits of finances by independent accountants.
  • Mandatory annual reporting to members detailing:
    • Income and expenses
    • Property acquisitions
    • Enforcement actions taken
    • Development approvals or denials
  • Board elections conducted transparently with all members notified in advance.

6. Strategic Objectives for Anti-Gentrification

  1. Property Acquisition Strategy
    • Identify at-risk properties before they are sold to outside investors.
    • Use reserve funds or special assessments to purchase and hold properties for resale to qualified African American buyers.
  2. Legal Defense Fund
    • Maintain a portion of the war chest specifically for litigation against predatory developers and enforcement of zoning codes.
  3. Cultural and Architectural Preservation
    • Set clear standards for renovations and new construction that reflect neighborhood heritage.
    • Ensure that new development aligns with the neighborhood’s long-term vision and identity.
  4. Economic Empowerment
    • Encourage local entrepreneurship and small business ownership within the HOA’s commercial spaces.
    • Partner with HBCUs and Black-owned banks to provide financing, mentorship, and business support.

Disclaimer: This article was assisted by ChatGPT.

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Revisiting Red Summer: Bloodshed, Black Land, and the Battle for America’s Soil

Posted on September 23, 2025 by | Leave a comment

“I had crossed the line. I was free; but there was no one to welcome me to the land of freedom. I was a stranger in a strange land.” – Harriet Tubman

Race riots or rural reckoning? The answer lies beneath the surface—and often beneath the soil itself.

Was Red Summer Of 1919 Really About African America’s Land Ownership? In the blistering summer of 1919, the United States erupted in racial violence. From Washington, D.C. to Chicago, from Norfolk to Omaha, more than three dozen cities and rural towns across America were sites of bloodshed as white mobs attacked African Americans. Historians dubbed it the Red Summer, invoking both the color of blood and the communist fears of the era. To many, it was the culmination of racial tensions stoked by the Great Migration, post-war competition for jobs, and white anxiety over African American assertiveness. But a century later, a question lingers uncomfortably beneath the textbook explanations: was Red Summer not merely about urban unrest or racial animus but about land?

That question has returned with renewed urgency amid a growing reexamination of Black land ownership and its deliberate erosion over the past century. As calls for reparations echo louder, so too does the need to reassess the forces that helped decimate Black wealth and autonomy. In doing so, Red Summer becomes not merely a narrative of racist rage, but potentially the most violent chapter in a longer, quieter war – a war over land.

A Nation Within a Nation

Virginia-born coachman Thomas A. Dillon and his wife, Margaret, a domestic servant and native of Newton, Massachusetts, pose in the parlor of their home at 4 Dewey Street with children Thomas, Margaret, and Mary in 1904.

The idea that African Americans were only victims of economic exclusion in early 20th-century America is misleading. By 1910, African Americans owned more than 15 million acres of land, largely in the South. Black farmers, most of them formerly enslaved or their descendants, had managed to accumulate land under crushing odds frequently purchasing it collectively, through cooperatives, or from white landowners seeking to offload marginal plots. These holdings were not just symbolic. They were strategic.

Land ownership among Black Americans was more than a pathway to wealth; it was a bulwark against white supremacy. Land meant food security, political leverage, and a modicum of independence in a nation otherwise defined by dependency and domination. In some areas, land ownership translated into Black-majority townships or counties, Black-controlled economies, and the possibility however remote of a parallel sovereignty.

In other words, African Americans were not simply asking for equality; in some places, they were building it. And that may have been the greatest threat of all.

Elaine and the Sharecropper’s Revolt

Few episodes more clearly illustrate the link between land and lethal violence than the massacre in Elaine, Arkansas, one of the deadliest incidents of Red Summer. On September 30, 1919, African American sharecroppers organized a meeting in a church to form a union that would advocate for fair prices for their cotton crops. They were met with gunfire and a reign of terror. White mobs, backed by federal troops, killed an estimated 100 to 200 Black men, women, and children though official counts suggested only a few dozen.

The cause, according to white newspapers, was a Black uprising. But in reality, it was about economic control. The sharecroppers wanted transparency in accounting, freedom from rigged ledgers, and the ability to sell their cotton independently. The plantation economy, tightly controlled by white landowners, depended on the opposite. The fear was not Black rebellion it was Black negotiation.

The Elaine massacre exposed a hidden economic architecture. If Black farmers could collectively organize and access fair markets, they might become landowners themselves. And in the Delta, as elsewhere in the South, land was power.

Urban Unrest, Rural Intent

Though most Red Summer clashes are framed through an urban lens of riots in Washington, Chicago, and Knoxville, but the violence cannot be disentangled from broader efforts to confine Black advancement. Indeed, many urban migrants were themselves displaced farmers or sharecroppers whose land ownership efforts had been stymied, swindled, or burned out.

Take Chicago, where in July 1919, violence erupted after a Black teenager, Eugene Williams, accidentally drifted into a whites-only beach on Lake Michigan. What followed was a week of brutal violence that left 38 dead and hundreds injured. On the surface, the riot was sparked by a beach dispute. But deeper currents were at play. African Americans had begun moving into white neighborhoods, asserting their rights to live and invest in the North.

Property rights were again at the center. Black homeowners were increasingly seen as invaders. Redlining had not yet been formalized, but informal violence was already its precursor. The right of African Americans to own homes, build wealth, and control property even outside the South was met with hostility. In both city and countryside, Red Summer was a coordinated rejection of Black sovereignty, however modestly asserted.

White Fear of Black Autonomy

While land ownership by African Americans peaked around 1910, it was already declining by 1919. The reasons were manifold: discriminatory lending, racial violence, predatory legal schemes, and state-sanctioned dispossession. But Red Summer represents a psychological inflection point, the moment when white America responded not just to Black presence, but to Black self-determination.

The threat, as seen by many whites, was not just that Black people wanted civil rights. It was that they were seizing the mechanisms of wealth: land, capital, and cooperative enterprise. African Americans were not waiting for inclusion; they were building economic foundations outside the reach of white control.

This was especially threatening in the South, where many white families were still reeling from the Civil War, the collapse of slavery, and the erosion of the planter class. Black economic success particularly land ownership stood as both a rebuke and a warning. In this sense, Red Summer was not simply a racial backlash; it was a political counterinsurgency.

The Legal Infrastructure of Dispossession

What followed Red Summer was not a mere return to Jim Crow norms, but an intensification of efforts to eliminate Black landholding. A key tool was legal dispossession. Heirs’ property laws, in which land passed down without a will became jointly owned by all descendants, made Black land vulnerable to partition sales. White developers and speculators exploited these loopholes, often buying one family member’s share and forcing a sale of the entire property.

According to the U.S. Department of Agriculture, African Americans lost 90% of their farmland between 1910 and 1997. Much of that was not merely through economic decline, but through coercive legal and extra-legal mechanisms: arson, lynching, and fraud.

Red Summer thus marked a gateway to systemic dispossession. In the decades that followed, the same violence that exploded in 1919 became bureaucratized: through zoning, lending discrimination, eminent domain, and legal chicanery.

Reparations and the Return to the Land

The lingering effects are visible in the data. Today, Black Americans own less than 1% of rural land in the United States. That figure stands in stark contrast to the 14% of the U.S. population that is Black. The wealth gap between Black and white families remains yawning, much of it attributable to the intergenerational transfer of property, land and home equity.

Reparations proposals have increasingly focused on this disparity. But to properly assess the scale of restitution, history must be rewritten to acknowledge not just the loss of life, but the loss of land. If Red Summer is reframed as a land war not only a race war, then it demands a different response.

Programs such as the Black Farmers Fund, the Federation of Southern Cooperatives, and the work of legal nonprofits like the Land Loss Prevention Project have begun to claw back some ground. Yet without a federal reckoning one that links racial violence to economic theft the narrative remains incomplete.

A Matter of Sovereignty

Land, as Malcolm X once noted, is the basis of all independence. Red Summer was not simply a spasm of postwar bigotry, but a calculated assertion of dominance over a people on the cusp of transformation. African Americans were not merely aspiring to equality; they were building sovereignty through land, labor, and law. The backlash was predictably violent. But violence, in this case, masked a deeper agenda: the eradication of a Black landowning class that threatened the racial and economic hierarchy. In the end, Red Summer may be remembered not only for its flames but for the fertile ground those flames sought to burn. It was not only a summer of blood. It was a war over soil.

📅 Visual Timeline: The Red Summer of 1919

April 13, 1919 – Jenkins County, Georgia

A violent confrontation erupts in Millen, Georgia, resulting in the deaths of six individuals and the destruction of African American churches and lodges.

May 10, 1919 – Charleston, South Carolina

White sailors initiate a riot, leading to the deaths of three African Americans and injuries to numerous others. Martial law is declared in response.

July 19–24, 1919 – Washington, D.C.

Racial violence breaks out as white mobs attack Black neighborhoods. African American residents organize self-defense efforts.

July 27–August 3, 1919 – Chicago, Illinois

The Chicago Race Riot begins after a Black teenager is killed for swimming in a “whites-only” area. The violence results in 38 deaths and over 500 injuries.

September 30–October 1, 1919 – Elaine, Arkansas

African American sharecroppers meeting to discuss fair compensation are attacked, leading to a massacre where estimates of Black fatalities range from 100 to 800.

October 4, 1919 – Gary, Indiana

Racial tensions escalate amid a steel strike, resulting in clashes between Black and white workers.

November 2, 1919 – Macon, Georgia

A Black man is lynched, highlighting the ongoing racial terror during this period.

Disclaimer: This article was assisted by ChatGPT.

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Cultural Triumph, Institutional Fragility, Financial Violence: Uncle Nearest and the Case for Black-Owned Banks

Posted on August 19, 2025 by | Leave a comment

“Financial violence has always been America’s quietest weapon and when African America builds without its own banks, it builds on sand.” – HBCU Money

The announcement that Farm Credit Mid-America, a Kentucky cooperative lender, had placed Uncle Nearest and its affiliated companies under federal receivership has shaken both the whiskey industry and African American business circles. The suit, seeking repayment of more than $108 million in loans, highlights not only the fragility of high-growth consumer brands but also a longstanding structural reality: the absence of large, African American-owned financial institutions that could have acted as lender, partner, and safeguard. At its height, Uncle Nearest was not just a spirits company. It had become a cultural symbol, a multimillion-dollar brand built on the rediscovered story of Nathan “Nearest” Green, the enslaved man who taught Jack Daniel to distill. But symbols are poor substitutes for capital. When the credit cycle turns and lenders impose stricter terms, symbols do not pay creditors, nor do they provide the liquidity needed to weather missteps. Uncle Nearest’s fate is therefore not only a corporate matter but a macro-lesson in institutional gaps that continue to undermine African American economic power. And it is inseparable from a longer history of European Americans wielding financial violence to weaken or erase African American institutions.

Farm Credit Mid-America’s complaint is straightforward in legal framing but heavy in consequence. It alleges default on revolving and term loans, misuse of proceeds—including purchase of a Martha’s Vineyard property outside agreed-upon terms—and inflated valuations of whiskey barrel inventories pledged as collateral. The cooperative insists the company failed to provide accurate financial reporting and violated covenants on net worth and liquidity. For the court, these alleged breaches justified appointing a receiver to oversee Uncle Nearest’s assets. For the wider market, the case raises questions about how one of the fastest-growing American whiskey brands could become so overextended in such a short time. But to view this only through the narrow lens of corporate mismanagement is to miss the structural point. Uncle Nearest turned to Farm Credit Mid-America precisely because African America has no equivalent institution at scale. The problem is not just a troubled borrower but a financial architecture in which African Americans must seek credit from institutions historically aligned against them.

European Americans have long recognized that domination requires more than guns and laws—it requires control of finance. Throughout American history, financial violence has been deployed to cripple African American economic advancement. The Freedman’s Savings Bank collapse in 1874 wiped out the life savings of formerly enslaved depositors, and the federal government refused to fully compensate them, teaching African Americans early that their deposits could be sacrificed without recourse. In the 20th century, European American banks and the federal government codified racial exclusion through redlining maps, systematically denying mortgages in Black neighborhoods. This was not neutral finance; it was engineered financial violence, preventing African Americans from entering the homeownership wealth pipeline. The burning of Greenwood in Tulsa in 1921, often remembered as a physical massacre, was also a financial one. Banks, insurance companies, and credit lines were destroyed alongside homes and businesses. Without access to capital, Greenwood could never fully rebuild. In more recent times, financial violence has taken the form of predatory lending. Subprime mortgage products were disproportionately pushed onto African American homeowners before the 2008 financial crisis, wiping out a generation of household wealth. European American-controlled finance profits from African American participation in the economy while denying equal access to capital formation. Uncle Nearest’s entanglement with Farm Credit Mid-America is not an anomaly but a continuation. When European American-controlled institutions are the gatekeepers of capital, they wield the power not only to finance but also to foreclose, to empower but also to erase.

The Uncle Nearest saga is a case study in how celebrated success stories often obscure fragile foundations. For nearly a decade, business media and cultural outlets heralded the brand as a triumph of African American entrepreneurship. The company claimed exponential growth, distribution in all 50 states, and a flagship distillery that drew tourists. Yet financial statements were rarely disclosed, and profitability was never the focus. The enthusiasm reflected a broader dynamic: African American brands often become cultural darlings before they become financially resilient. Without deep ties to institutional lenders within their own community, they must rely on external credit relationships that can sour quickly. When this happens, the story moves from triumph to turmoil in a matter of months.

At the core of this episode lies a more sobering truth. African American households control nearly $1.7 trillion in annual spending power, but African American-owned financial institutions hold less than 0.5% of U.S. banking assets. The top African American-owned bank has under $1 billion in assets; Farm Credit Mid-America, the plaintiff in the Uncle Nearest case, controls more than $25 billion. This mismatch leaves African American entrepreneurs, even those with national brands, dependent on institutions whose strategic priorities do not necessarily align with sustaining African American economic power. When defaults arise, the lender’s duty is to recover capital—not to protect the cultural or institutional significance of the borrower. European American-controlled finance, then, becomes not merely a neutral system but an instrument of selective gatekeeping. It funds African American brands when profitable, then withdraws and seizes control when convenient, replicating patterns of dispossession stretching back centuries.

Receivership is not always terminal. In many instances, companies emerge leaner and restructured. A skilled receiver may stabilize operations, preserve brand value, and even attract new capital. But for Uncle Nearest, the optics are punishing. A brand that marketed authenticity, resilience, and cultural restoration is now under external control. From an institutional perspective, the more important lesson is this: receivership often transfers control of assets from founders to outsiders. In this case, the intellectual property, inventory, and brand narrative of Uncle Nearest may ultimately end up in the hands of a major spirits conglomerate. The cultural capital painstakingly built could be monetized by global firms with no obligation to the communities that celebrated the brand’s rise.

This is hardly a new pattern. African American economic history is dotted with enterprises that gained cultural significance but lacked the institutional scaffolding to survive financial storms. From insurance firms in the early 20th century to radio stations in the late 20th century, the cycle repeats: individual success, rapid expansion, external borrowing, crisis, foreclosure, and eventual transfer of ownership. The absence of African American-controlled capital at scale explains why these cycles recur. Wealth is preserved and multiplied not through consumption but through financial intermediation like banks, insurers, investment funds, and cooperatives. Without these, individual businesses operate in a structurally hostile financial environment, an environment designed and maintained by European American interests.

The Uncle Nearest case illustrates several lessons that extend beyond whiskey or even consumer goods. Growth without institutional capital is fragile; rapid expansion must be supported by lenders whose incentives align with the borrower’s long-term survival. Transparency is essential; overstated inventory, inflated collateral, or vague reporting create vulnerabilities. Community lenders could impose discipline while understanding cultural context. Symbols cannot substitute for structures; a brand can inspire, but only institutions preserve value across generations. And perhaps most importantly, financial violence must be anticipated. Entrepreneurs cannot treat European American-controlled capital as neutral. It must be engaged with caution, hedged against, and ultimately replaced by African American-owned capital.

If African American entrepreneurs are to avoid similar fates, the ecosystem must address the capital gap at its root. That means building financial institutions with assets measured not in millions but in tens of billions. Institutional investments by profitable African American owned corporations and high net-worth African Americans of existing African American banks could create scale and efficiency. Other institutional investment vehicles such as real estate investment trusts, private credit funds, and venture platforms controlled by African American institutions could channel capital into businesses without reliance on external lenders. Partnership with HBCUs could pool university endowments, serving as anchor investors for community-controlled funds. These strategies require not just capital but governance discipline. Failed experiments in the past show that poorly managed institutions can collapse under their own weight. The challenge is to combine professional financial management with community accountability.

Internationally, minority communities have built financial ecosystems as buffers against exclusion. In South Korea, family-owned conglomerates leveraged domestic banks to grow global brands like Samsung and Hyundai. In Israel, tight networks of banks, state funding, and venture capital built the foundation for a high-tech economy. African American institutions remain far from achieving comparable coordination. Philanthropic donations, though celebrated, often flow into consumption or temporary relief rather than capital formation. Until African American institutions master the art of financial intermediation, the cycle of celebrated rise and sudden vulnerability will continue.

Uncle Nearest’s predicament carries symbolic weight precisely because the brand itself was constructed around reclaiming lost African American contributions. Nathan “Nearest” Green’s story gave the company authenticity, and Fawn Weaver’s stewardship turned it into a case study of cultural entrepreneurship. But culture without capital is precarious. If the brand is ultimately sold or absorbed into a global portfolio, the irony will be stark: once again, the African American contribution will be remembered, but the financial returns will flow elsewhere. This pattern mirrors the broader reality of African American culture in America—ubiquitous in influence, marginal in ownership.

What would a different outcome look like? Imagine a scenario where an African American-owned financial cooperative, with $20 billion in assets, had been Uncle Nearest’s primary lender. When financial stress emerged, restructuring discussions would occur within the community, balancing creditor protection with brand preservation. A workout plan could have extended maturities, injected bridge capital, and preserved ownership. Instead, the present outcome will likely see the brand either auctioned, restructured under external oversight, or sold into a larger portfolio. The story of Uncle Nearest will remain in museums and marketing campaigns, but the financial rewards will slip away—just as European American institutions have ensured through financial violence for generations.

The Uncle Nearest receivership is not just a cautionary tale about aggressive borrowing or mismanagement. It is a systemic reminder of what happens when cultural triumphs outpace institutional capacity, and when European American-controlled finance holds the decisive power. Financial violence has been the consistent tool used to limit African American progress—from denying mortgages, to burning banks, to predatory subprime lending. Today it manifests in legal filings, receiverships, and foreclosures that strip ownership while preserving value for others. Until African American communities control financial institutions of sufficient scale, stories like this will recur: brilliant brands, celebrated entrepreneurs, cultural resonance—and eventual loss of ownership when credit turns cold. Only when African America builds banks, insurers, funds, and cooperatives at scale will financial violence cease to be an inevitability and become a relic of the past.

The call to action is clear. This moment must not be treated as another sad headline in the long story of African American dispossession. It must be the spark for a generational project to build the financial scaffolding that has been systematically denied. African American investors, entrepreneurs, and institutions cannot wait for European American finance to treat them fairly; fairness has never been the logic of capital. They must pool resources, scaling banks, capitalize funds, and demand that philanthropy move beyond symbolic gifts toward endowments and capital vehicles that last. The future of African American business depends not on individual brilliance or cultural resonance but on the quiet, disciplined construction of financial power. If Uncle Nearest becomes a turning point, it will not be because of whiskey. It will be because African America finally decided that financial violence would no longer be its inheritance, and that institutional capital, built and controlled internally, would be its defense.

Disclaimer: This article was assisted by ChatGPT.

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

Posted on August 15, 2025 by | Leave a comment

“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.

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