Tag Archives: black wealth building

Charlamagne Tha God & Jemele Hill: The Debate They Both Got Right and Wrong

“If you don’t own anything, you don’t have any power.” — Dr. Claud Anderson

When Charlamagne Tha God proclaimed, “Wake your ass up and get to trade school!” after NVIDIA’s CEO Jensen Huang suggested that the next wave of American millionaires will come from plumbers and electricians, he was not simply shouting into the void. He was echoing a national frustration, one rooted in the rising irrelevance of a degree-driven economy that no longer guarantees stability or wealth. Student debt has grown into a generational shackle, corporate loyalty is dead, and a working class once promised a middle-class life for earning a degree has found itself boxed out of the very prosperity it was told to chase. Charlamagne’s message resonated because trades feel like a lifeboat in an economy where white-collar work has become overcrowded, uncertain, and increasingly automated. But Jemele Hill’s response, “There’s nothing wrong with getting a trade, but the people in the billionaire and millionaire class aren’t sending their kids to trade schools” was the kind of truth that punctures illusions. She was not critiquing the trades; she was critiquing the belief that skill, in isolation from ownership, can produce power.

Her point hits harder within African America because our community has historically been guided into labor paths whether trade or degree that position us as workers within someone else’s institutions. It is not a coincidence. As HBCU Money examined in “Washington Was The Horse And DuBois Was The Cart”, the historical tension between industrial education and classical higher learning was never about choosing one or the other. It was about sequencing. Booker T. Washington understood that African America first needed an economic base, a foundation of labor mastery and enterprise capacity. W.E.B. DuBois emphasized intellectual development and leadership cultivation. But Washington was right about one thing: without an economic foundation, intellectual prowess has no institutional home. And without institutional homes, neither the trade nor the degree can produce freedom. African America today is suffering because we abandoned Washington’s base-building and misinterpreted DuBois’s talent development as permission to serve institutions built by others.

Charlamagne’s trade-school enthusiasm fits neatly into Washington’s horse, the practical skill that generates economic usefulness. But Hill’s critique reflects DuBois’s cart understanding how society actually distributes power. The mistake is that neither Washington nor DuBois ever argued that skill alone, or schooling alone, was enough. Both ultimately pointed toward institutional ownership. Neither wanted African Americans to remain permanently in the labor class. The trades were supposed to evolve into construction companies, electrical firms, cooperatives, and land-based enterprises. The degrees were supposed to evolve into banks, research centers, hospitals, and political institutions. What we actually did was pursue skills and credentials not power. We mistook competence for control.

This is why the trades-versus-degrees debate is meaningless without ownership. Becoming a plumber or an electrician provides income, but not institutional leverage. Becoming a lawyer or an accountant provides upward mobility, but not institutional control. A community with thousands of tradespeople and thousands of degreed professionals but without banks, construction firms, land ownership, hospitals, newspapers, media companies, sovereign endowments, or venture capital funds is still a community of laborers no matter how educated or skilled.

This structural truth becomes even clearer when viewed through the lens of how the wealthiest Americans use education. HBCU Money’s analysis, “Does Graduate School Matter? America’s 100 Wealthiest: 44 Percent Have Graduate Degrees”, observes that while nearly half of America’s wealthiest individuals do hold graduate degrees, the degrees themselves are not the source of wealth. They are tools of amplification. They work because the individuals earning them already have ownership pathways through family offices, endowments, corporations, foundations, and networks that translate education into power. Graduate school matters when you have an institution to run. It matters far less when your degree leads you into institutions owned by others.

African American graduates rarely inherit institutions; they inherit responsibility to institutions that do not belong to them. So the degree becomes a ladder into someone else’s building. And trades, stripped of the communal ownership networks they once fed, become a ladder into someone else’s factory, subcontracting chain, or municipal maintenance operation. We are always climbing into structures that someone else owns.

This cycle was not always our trajectory. The tragedy is that HBCUs once created institutional ecosystems where skill and knowledge were used to build African American economic capacity—not merely transfer it outward. As HBCU Money argued in “HBCU Construction: Revisiting Work-Study Trade Training”, many HBCUs historically operated construction, carpentry, and trade programs that literally built the campuses themselves. Students learned trades while constructing residence halls, dining facilities, barns, academic buildings, and infrastructure that the institution would own for generations. That model kept money circulating internally, built hard assets, created institutional wealth, and established capacity for African American contracting firms. It produced not just skilled laborers it produced apprentices, foremen, entrepreneurs, and business owners. It produced Washington’s economic foundation.

The abandonment of these models created a void. Trades became disconnected from institutional development. Degrees became pathways to external employment. And HBCUs which once trained students to build institutions were transformed into pipelines feeding corporate America and federal agencies that rarely reinvest into African American institutions at scale. This is why the trade-school-versus-college debate is hollow. Both are simply skill paths. Without ownership, both lead to dependence.

Charlamagne’s sense of urgency comes from watching African American millennials and Gen Z face an economy with fewer footholds than their parents had. But urgency alone cannot produce strategy. Hill, consciously or unconsciously, pointed out that the wealthy understand something we have not fully grasped: the ultimate purpose of skill, whether manual or intellectual, is to strengthen one’s own institutional ecosystem not someone else’s. The wealthy do not send their children to college to find jobs; they send them to college to learn to oversee family enterprises, influence policy, govern philanthropic endowments, and maintain social capital networks. A wealthy family’s electrician child does not go into electrical maintenance he goes into managing the electrical firm the family owns.

This is the distinction African America must confront. We keep choosing roles instead of building infrastructure. We choose jobs. We do not choose institutions. We chase wages. We do not chase ownership. This is not because African Americans lack talent or ambition. It is because integration disconnected African America from its economic development logic. In the push to integrate into white institutions, we abandoned the very institutions that anchored our communities—banks, hospitals, insurance companies, manufacturing cooperatives, and HBCU-based work-study and trade ecosystems.

The future requires rebuilding a Washington-first, DuBois-second model. The horse that is the economic base must return. The cart that is the intellectual class must attach to institutions that the community owns. Trades should feed African American contracting firms, electrical cooperatives, and infrastructure companies that service Black communities and employ Black workers. Degrees should feed African American financial institutions, research centers, HBCU endowments, political think tanks, and venture funds. Every skill, trade, or degree must be tied to institutional expansion.

Otherwise, we will continue mistaking income for empowerment, education for sovereignty, and representation for ownership. Trade or degree, individual success means little when the community remains institutionally dependent. Wealth that dies with individuals is not power; it is a temporary advantage. Power is continuity. Power is structure. Power is ownership.

The choice before African America is not between trade and degree. It is between labor and ownership. No skill, not plumbing, not engineering, not medicine, not law creates power without institutions. We are not lacking talented individuals; we are lacking the institutional architecture that turns talent into sovereignty.

Charlamagne spoke to survival. Hill spoke to structure. Washington spoke to foundation. DuBois spoke to leadership. The synthesis of all four is the path forward. Without institutions, African America will always remain the labor in someone else’s empire even when the labor is highly paid, well-trained, and excellently credentialed. Only ownership transforms skill into power, and without rebuilding our institutional ecosystem, we will continue to debate trades and degrees while owning neither the companies nor the universities.

Ownership is the only path. Without it, neither the horse nor the cart will ever move.

Disclaimer: This article was assisted by ChatGPT.

Schools For Husbands and Wives: Preparing African American Couples for Partnership and Institutional Power

“The family is the nucleus of civilization.” — Will Durant

When news broke from Senegal that so-called “schools for husbands” were being used to lower maternal and newborn mortality rates, the headlines focused on the novelty of men being taught to wash dishes, attend prenatal visits, and support women’s healthcare. Yet beneath the surface, Senegal’s program is not just about chores or even just about health, it is about reshaping cultural norms so that households operate as functional units rather than fractured spaces of authority and neglect. In a country where patriarchal structures often keep women from making life-saving decisions without a man’s permission, Senegal’s government and community leaders recognized that sustainable change had to address the power imbalance between men and women.

This insight carries an important lesson for African America. The African American family is facing a structural crisis. Only 38 percent of African American children grow up in two-parent households compared to 78 percent of white children, and the numbers are even more stark when considering households of generational stability, wealth accumulation, and transmission of institutional knowledge. The decline of the two-parent household in African America has had profound consequences not just for children, but for adults who often enter adulthood without ever having witnessed sustained partnership between equals.

What if African America had its own version of Senegal’s schools expanded to include both husbands and wives, and designed for straight couples and LGBTQ couples alike? A “School for Husbands and Wives” could become a powerful cultural and institutional lever, equipping African Americans with the skills, expectations, and frameworks to build households that are not only emotionally healthy but also institutionally productive.

Why African America Needs Schools for Husbands and Wives

African Americans live in a paradox: on the one hand, they are among the most religiously active groups in the country, with churches historically serving as community hubs. On the other hand, African American households are disproportionately fragmented. The reasons are historical and structural—slavery destroyed family continuity, Jim Crow restricted marriage rights, mass incarceration and discriminatory welfare policies tore apart families, and modern labor and housing policies continue to erode family stability.

The consequence is that too many African Americans enter relationships without having observed healthy models of partnership. This absence manifests itself in multiple ways:

  • Gender distrust: Many African American men and women view each other as competitors rather than partners, shaped by economic inequality and media stereotypes.
  • Power imbalances: Without clarity on roles, relationships often collapse under stress: financial, emotional, or social.
  • Institutional gaps: Families are the basic units of institutions. When African American families are weak, African American institutions remain undercapitalized and undercoordinated.

This reality is not confined to heterosexual couples. LGBTQ African Americans, who face both external discrimination and internal cultural tension, often have even fewer family blueprints to draw upon. Whether in straight or queer relationships, the challenge remains: how do two people form a sustainable partnership when their models are fragmented, mistrust abounds, and institutional frameworks are weak?

A School for Husbands and Wives would take on this challenge directly, teaching the mechanics of partnership in the same way Senegal’s program teaches men the mechanics of maternal health support. But instead of focusing solely on chores or permissions, the African American model would expand to include economics, conflict resolution, institution building, and cultural grounding.

The Senegalese Model: A Starting Point

Senegal’s schools for husbands use respected community figures like imams, former soldiers, and elders to teach men about women’s rights, maternal health, and shared responsibilities. The success lies in reframing: chores are not humiliating, they are acts of love; women’s health decisions are not threats, they are family investments; shared authority is not weakness, it is strength.

For African Americans, a School for Husbands and Wives could use a similar approach: respected voices drawn from the community like professors, entrepreneurs, cultural leaders, and married couples who have sustained long-term partnerships would teach relationship and family skills as community investments. The aim would be to destigmatize conversations about partnership and create new models where none exist.

Curriculum for Partnership

What would a School for Husbands and Wives look like in African America?

  1. Economics of Partnership
    • Teaching couples how to pool resources effectively, manage debt, invest in assets, and prioritize institutional wealth over individual consumption.
    • Lessons on real estate, life insurance, trusts, and estate planning—so that households become wealth anchors, not debt traps.
  2. Conflict Resolution and Communication
    • Many couples replicate cycles of mistrust they observed growing up. Training in conflict resolution, active listening, and equitable compromise would be central.
    • Both straight and LGBTQ couples would benefit from structured conversations on navigating cultural stigma, managing extended family expectations, and sustaining emotional intimacy.
  3. Household Labor Distribution
    • Senegal emphasizes men helping with chores to reduce women’s burdens. In African America, the conversation must extend further: both partners share responsibility for cooking, cleaning, parenting, and professional ambitions.
    • The school would also address how unpaid labor at home directly connects to economic outcomes, productivity, and career success for both partners.
  4. Cultural and Historical Grounding
    • African American couples would be taught the history of the African American family as an institution under assault—from slavery to mass incarceration.
    • By understanding the intentionality of these assaults, couples would better grasp the importance of intentional partnership as resistance.
  5. Parenting as Institutional Strategy
    • Children should be raised not just with love, but with strategy: to become contributors to African American institutional wealth and culture.
    • Parents would learn to combine elements of “tiger” and “gentle” parenting—discipline and nurture balanced toward the goal of institutional power.

Straight and LGBTQ Couples Together

Too often, discussions of African American family structure exclude LGBTQ couples, reinforcing division where there should be solidarity. A School for Husbands and Wives would explicitly include both straight and LGBTQ couples, recognizing that the core challenges of partnership communication, trust, economic strategy, cultural grounding are universal.

In fact, LGBTQ couples often demonstrate resilience in building intentional families under hostile conditions, a skillset that all African Americans can learn from. By including diverse couple models, the school would normalize different family structures while emphasizing the shared goal: strong, functioning partnerships that build institutions.

Institutional Implications

African American institutions such as HBCUs, banks, businesses, nonprofits are only as strong as the families that sustain them. Wealth is built in households before it is transferred to institutions. If African American households remain fragmented, then institutions will remain weak.

A School for Husbands and Wives could therefore be sponsored or housed by HBCUs, serving both as a community program and as a research lab. Partnerships with African American financial institutions could integrate financial literacy into the curriculum. Faith institutions, cultural centers, and civic organizations could all play roles in teaching and sustaining graduates of the program.

The benefits would ripple:

  • Higher marriage stability rates among African Americans.
  • Greater pooling of household income, increasing wealth accumulation.
  • Stronger parenting, producing children with higher educational attainment and cultural grounding.
  • Increased institutional giving and investment, as families with stability contribute more to churches, HBCUs, and community organizations.

Policy and Public Health Dimensions

A School for Husbands and Wives should not be seen only as a cultural innovation, but also as a public health and policy strategy. The lack of stable households directly correlates with higher rates of poverty, incarceration, and health disparities. Policymakers could frame such schools as preventative investments, much like job training or nutrition programs.

Public funding, alongside philanthropic investment from African American institutions, could help establish pilot programs in cities with large African American populations. These schools could even be tied to existing healthcare infrastructure such as community health clinics so that relationship education is linked to wellness checkups, parenting support, and financial literacy programs.

If Senegal can link male training to maternal survival, African America can link couple training to family survival.

Lessons from Senegal’s Caution

Senegal’s experience shows that change is incremental and contested. Some men embrace new roles; others resist. Likewise, in African America, not everyone will accept the idea of formal schools for partnership. Some will argue that love is natural and cannot be taught. Others will resist LGBTQ inclusion. Some will see the program as unnecessary “therapy culture.”

But institutions are built through intentionality, not accident. Just as one studies law to become a lawyer or finance to become a banker, so too must African Americans study partnership if they are to build families that function as institutional engines.

A Vision Forward

Imagine a future where every African American couple, before or after marriage, participates in a School for Husbands and Wives. They leave not only with a deeper love for each other but with tools for building wealth, resolving conflict, and raising children with purpose. They learn to see themselves as not just individuals, but as co-founders of a household institution.

The Senegalese model shows us that cultural change is possible when men are trained to view equality as strength. African America can expand that vision: training both husbands and wives, straight and queer, to view partnership as the foundation of institutional survival.

Just as Senegal’s schools for husbands aim to save lives, African America’s schools for husbands and wives would aim to save legacies.ve legacies.

A Merger of (Potential) Might: Why Prairie View A&M and Texas Southern Should Combine Their Foundations to Challenge the Endowment Establishment

It is reason, and not passion, which must guide our deliberations, guide our debate, and guide our decision. – Barbara Jordan

In the gilded halls of America’s elite universities, financial firepower is both a symbol and source of dominance. Endowments—the great silent engines of academia—determine not only which students get scholarships but which schools can recruit Nobel-calibre faculty, fund original research, and shape public policy. At the apex of this order stands UTIMCO, the University of Texas and Texas A&M’s investment juggernaut, with more than $70 billion under management. Below, far below, exist the undercapitalised yet ambitious Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs) of Texas.

Two of the state’s largest HBCUs—Prairie View A&M University (PVAMU) and Texas Southern University (TSU)—have long histories, loyal alumni, and vital missions. What they do not have is institutional wealth. PVAMU’s foundation reported a modest $1.83 million in net assets in 2022. TSU’s foundation, better capitalised, holds $22.7 million. Combined, that amounts to just $24.5 million. For comparison, Rice University, less than 50 miles from either campus, holds an endowment north of $7.8 billion.

That yawning disparity matters. But it also presents an opportunity: a merger of the two foundations into a single, more potent philanthropic and investment entity. Done properly, it could reorient how Black higher education competes—not by appealing to fairness or guilt, but through scale, strategy, and institutional force.

A Rebalancing Act

To understand the potential of a PVAMU-TSU foundation merger, one must first grasp the dynamics of university endowments. Large endowments benefit from economies of scale, granting them access to exclusive investment opportunities—private equity, venture capital, hedge funds—often unavailable to smaller players. They attract the best fund managers, demand lower fees, and can weather market volatility without compromising their missions. Small foundations, by contrast, tend to be conservatively invested, costly to manage per dollar, and too fragmented to punch above their weight.

A consolidated HBCU foundation in Texas would be small compared to UTIMCO, but large relative to its peers. With a $25 million corpus as a starting point, the new entity could position itself for growth by professionalising its investment strategy, adopting a more ambitious donor engagement plan, and forming partnerships with Black-owned banks, family offices, and community institutions. Call it the Texas Black Excellence Fund, or perhaps, more simply, the TexHBCU Endowment.

To be sure, the legal and logistical barriers to such a merger are real. Foundation boards guard their autonomy jealously. Alumni pride can turn parochial. Governance models would need careful negotiation to ensure representation and avoid turf wars. But the arguments in favour are compelling.

The Power of One

First, a merger would cut overhead. Legal, accounting, auditing, and compliance costs—duplicated today—could be streamlined. A joint fundraising apparatus could create a single point of entry for corporate partners and high-net-worth donors. Branding efforts would gain coherence: instead of competing for attention, the institutions would stand together as a symbol of Black institutional unity and strength.

Second, scale invites leverage. A $25 million foundation cannot change the world overnight, but it can attract co-investments, engage in pooled funds, and perhaps even launch a purpose-driven asset management firm in the model of UTIMCO. If successful, this would be the first Black-led institutional investor of serious size in Texas—capable not only of managing endowment funds but of influencing broader economic flows across Black Texas.

Third, the merger would send a strategic signal to policymakers and philanthropic networks. It would say, in effect: “We are no longer asking for permission to grow. We are building the engine ourselves.” That tone matters. Too often, HBCUs are framed as needing rescue. A merged foundation flips that narrative. It becomes an asset allocator, a market participant, a builder of capital rather than a petitioner of it.

UTIMCO: A Goliath in the Crosshairs?

No one expects a $25 million fund to challenge a $70 billion behemoth. But that is not the point. UTIMCO’s dominance is as much political as it is financial. Its influence flows from its role as gatekeeper to resources, shaping everything from campus architecture to graduate fellowships. The merged HBCU foundation would not dethrone UTIMCO—it would decentralise power by becoming a second pole.

Indeed, the comparison may inspire mimicry. Just as UTIMCO serves multiple institutions, so too could a joint HBCU foundation. Prairie View and Texas Southern are only the beginning. Over time, the model could scale to include other Black-serving institutions across Texas and the South. This would amplify investment impact and accelerate institutional wealth-building.

Moreover, such a foundation could adopt an unapologetically developmental investment strategy. Where UTIMCO optimises for returns, the TexHBCU fund could optimise for both returns and racial equity—by investing in Black entrepreneurs, affordable housing, climate-resilient infrastructure, or educational tech. The dual mandate—profit and purpose—would not be a hindrance but a hallmark.

Regional Stakes

Prairie View sits on a rural hilltop. Texas Southern sprawls in urban Houston. But their communities are deeply connected—culturally, economically, demographically. A combined foundation could create regional development strategies that go beyond scholarship aid.

Imagine a venture fund seeding Black-owned start-ups in Houston’s Third Ward. A real estate initiative turning vacant lots into mixed-income housing for PVAMU students and local residents. A workforce development fund retraining returning citizens for green jobs across both cities. Each dollar invested becomes more than a balance sheet entry; it becomes a force for transformation.

This matters not just to students and faculty, but to the broader Texas economy. Black Texans make up 13% of the state population but own less than 3% of its small businesses. Educational attainment gaps persist. Institutional neglect deepens. The merger would not fix all this—but it would give the community a new tool for shaping its destiny.

Copy, Then Paste

If the model works, it would not stay in Texas. Southern University in Louisiana has multiple campuses and foundations that could benefit from consolidation. So does the University System of Maryland’s HBCUs. Indeed, the entire sector could adopt a federated endowment strategy—unified in purpose but distributed in governance.

HBCUs have long suffered from institutional atomisation. They are asked to compete individually in a system that rewards consolidation. Merging foundations is not just a finance play—it is a strategy for survival and sovereignty.

The Alternative: Stagnation

Critics may say a merger is too ambitious. That it risks alumni backlash or donor confusion. That it could take years to execute. But delay is itself a cost. Each year the foundations remain separate is another year of opportunity lost. Another year where millions in potential returns go unrealised. Another year where larger institutions deepen their lead.

PVAMU and TSU have histories to be proud of. But institutional pride must not become institutional inertia. A merger is not surrender—it is evolution.

In the long arc of higher education, moments of boldness define legacy. This is one of those moments. Two foundations. One future. Let the uniting begin.

Powell’s Precarious Position: What HBCU Real Estate Investors Must Prepare For

“Real estate power does not wait on political peace—it plans around it.”HBCU Money

In commercial real estate, calm markets are often a prerequisite for aggressive growth. When volatility creeps in—especially from policy uncertainty—wise investors do not panic, but they do reposition. As rumors swirl that Federal Reserve Chair Jerome Powell may be removed from office before the end of his term, the CRE market is already baking in disruption. For HBCU alumni who invest in real estate, this moment demands attention, strategy, and foresight.

Although Powell’s official term runs through May 2026, and he can technically serve until 2028, market insiders are moving as if his exit could happen sooner—possibly under a second Trump administration. On July 17, GlobeSt.com reported that commercial real estate markets are increasingly factoring in political risk, with deal structures, loan pricing, and capital flows tightening ahead of any actual policy change.

For HBCU alumni who have spent years assembling rental portfolios, developing mixed-use properties, or backing Opportunity Zone projects near campuses, this isn’t abstract economic theory. This is cash flow, cap rates, and leverage dynamics in real time.

The Federal Reserve controls interest rates, liquidity, and lending standards—the lifeblood of commercial real estate. But the Chair also shapes expectations. Even the perception of instability at the Fed causes lenders to pull back and investors to reprice assets.

Jerome Powell has been seen as a steady hand, even when unpopular. His cautious rate policy—especially amid post-pandemic inflation—kept CRE markets from overheating or crashing. But if he’s ousted or disempowered, markets may expect more aggressive rate cuts under political pressure, a weakening dollar complicating international investment and supply chain costs, and a loss of institutional independence introducing a political lens into every Fed decision.

For HBCU alumni real estate investors, it means more volatile borrowing costs, reduced predictability in returns, and a need to re-evaluate how aggressively to pursue expansion or refinance.

Lenders are tightening up—and they are doing so before Powell is removed. That should concern anyone whose real estate model is sensitive to capital cost.

Bridge and construction loans are becoming harder to secure without pristine credit and higher equity injections. Cash-out refinances—especially for small portfolios—are being capped or delayed altogether. Development deals in low-income communities (where many HBCU graduates invest as a mission) are being scrutinized harder or shelved entirely.

As one investment banker told GlobeSt, “We’re seeing deals priced as if Powell’s out in six months, and we’re living in a very different rate environment.” It’s not a prediction—it’s a hedge. And HBCU alumni need to do the same.

If you’re invested in—or considering entering—any of the following CRE asset classes, Powell’s fate may shape your returns:

CRE SectorRisk From Fed Instability
MultifamilyRising rates hurt acquisitions and refinancing; rent growth may not keep up with cost of capital
RetailAlready under pressure from e-commerce; volatile rates shrink tenant pool and landlord leverage
HospitalityHeavily exposed to economic cycles; refinancing becomes challenging if Fed turmoil hits
Industrial/LogisticsGenerally stable, but price compression expected if Fed credibility drops
Development ProjectsMost vulnerable—cost of capital, input inflation, and credit availability all in flux

HBCU alumni often favor multifamily and mixed-use in urban corridors. That makes preparation even more critical.

Let’s be clear: instability in the Fed disproportionately hurts Black real estate investors.

Less institutional capital backing Black developers means higher reliance on bank debt. Lower net worth and liquidity reserves can make it harder to endure tightened credit cycles. Projects in historically Black neighborhoods—often underinvested already—face greater scrutiny from conservative lenders during uncertain times. And Black investors are more likely to reinvest locally, meaning pullbacks hit community wealth and revitalization efforts harder.

If you’re financing student housing near Howard, renovating a historic property near Southern, or redeveloping land near Fort Valley State, you may suddenly find banks “reassessing” your application—not because of your deal, but because of Washington.

HBCU alumni have a legacy of building through adversity. This moment demands no less. Key investor moves right now include:

Renegotiate your debt terms while rates are still predictable. If your loans mature in 2026 or 2027, the window to lock in current rates or secure extensions is closing. Powell’s tenure—and potential replacement—will shape forward rate curves. Beat the volatility while you still can.

Shift to fixed-rate debt. Adjustable-rate debt was cheap two years ago. Now it’s a ticking time bomb. Consider refinancing into fixed-rate debt, even at a slight premium, to gain stability and prevent future cash flow disruptions.

Expand your lender relationships. Do not depend on one or two institutions. Build ties with Black-owned banks, CDFIs, and credit unions aligned with HBCU values. These institutions may have more mission-aligned flexibility if traditional banks tighten up.

Build a liquidity cushion. Discipline now prevents desperation later. Liquidity is the real hedge during economic uncertainty—especially if tenants default, contractors raise costs, or refinance windows close.

Delay discretionary projects. This is the time to tighten pro formas, not push for maximum leverage. If a deal still pencils at 9% debt, proceed. If it only works at 6%, wait.

Pool capital. Use alumni associations and real estate clubs to form investment syndicates. One investor may get denied a $5M deal. Five alumni together might get approved for $25M. Leverage unity, scale, and relationships.

Crisis also presents acquisition opportunities. There will be distressed sellers needing to offload assets quickly, developers unable to complete projects, and landlords who can’t refinance expiring loans. HBCU alumni, especially those with capital or credit, should keep an eye out. Joint ventures among alumni can create scale and deploy capital when others retreat. Use this time to buy smart, not fast.

Beyond Powell himself, it’s the Fed’s credibility that gives investors confidence to commit capital to 10–30 year projects. If a new Chair appears beholden to political pressure, markets may price in new risks to long-term bonds, accelerate inflation fears, and depress asset values. That would slow not just your next project—but the next generation’s.

That is why HBCU alumni must take this seriously, not just as investors—but as stewards of intergenerational wealth.

HBCU institutions also have a role to play. They can create alumni investment syndicates that provide deal flow and capital. They can offer discounted land or property near campus to alumni developers. They can develop relationships with mission-driven lenders and introduce alumni projects for financing. And they can host economic briefings and real estate strategy sessions to keep their alumni sharp and agile in rapidly changing markets.

Colleges like Tuskegee, Texas Southern, and FAMU have alumni who are reshaping skylines. These institutions must recognize this as an extension of their impact—and protect it.

The Federal Reserve Chair is not a figurehead. Powell’s potential removal would represent a seismic shift in economic planning—especially for real estate. For HBCU alumni, many of whom have built their portfolios in the shadows of systemic exclusion, the message is clear: this is not a time to panic—but it is time to prepare.

Build alliances, lock in rates, stockpile liquidity, and be ready. The future of our neighborhoods, our campuses, and our financial independence will be shaped by how we respond to this moment.

And if the rest of the market goes quiet, remember: Black investors have never needed perfect conditions to build power—we’ve just needed a plan and each other.

Disclaimer: This article was assisted by ChatGPT.

This Week in the Economy: May 5–9, 2025

Analyzing the U.S. Economic Calendar Through the Lens of African American Economic Empowerment

Monday, May 5

  • S&P Final U.S. Services PMI (Apr): 51.0 (Prev: 51.4)
  • ISM Services Index (Apr): 50.4% (Prev: 50.8%)

A cooling services sector raises concerns for Black-owned businesses and workers concentrated in service-based industries. Marginal growth may mean tighter margins and slower hiring, especially in personal care, retail, and small hospitality—fields where many African American entrepreneurs and employees operate.


Tuesday, May 6

  • U.S. Trade Deficit (Mar): -$136.0B (Prev: -$122.7B)

The growing trade deficit highlights America’s deepening reliance on imports, reinforcing structural challenges for domestic manufacturing. This imbalance is particularly troubling for aspiring Black manufacturers and export-driven enterprises that struggle to compete with cheaper foreign supply chains and lack equitable access to capital or infrastructure.


Wednesday, May 7

  • FOMC Meeting & Fed Chair Powell Press Conference
  • Consumer Credit (Mar): $11.0B (Prev: -$800M)

The Federal Reserve’s direction this week is critical. Interest rate policy affects African American households disproportionately, with higher borrowing costs hitting hardest among those with lower credit scores and less generational wealth. A rise in consumer credit signals that families—many Black households included—may be increasingly relying on debt to maintain basic living standards amid inflation. The burden of debt is rising, not falling.


Thursday, May 8

  • Initial Jobless Claims (May 3): 230,000 (Prev: 241,000)
  • U.S. Productivity (Q1): -0.5% (Forecast: +1.5%)
  • Wholesale Inventories (Mar): +0.5% (Prev: +0.3%)

Jobless claims are stable, but national figures obscure racial disparities. Black unemployment remains consistently higher than average. Meanwhile, negative productivity numbers may point to slower wage growth—again affecting African American workers in roles offering limited career mobility. Rising wholesale inventories suggest slowing consumer demand, which could hit Black-owned consumer goods businesses that often operate without deep cash reserves.


Friday, May 9

  • Fed Governor Lisa Cook Speech (6:45 AM ET)
  • Multiple Fed Speakers Throughout Day

All eyes will be on Lisa Cook, the first Black woman on the Fed’s Board of Governors. Her remarks may provide valuable insight into how the central bank views labor market equity and inflation’s disproportionate impact on communities of color. The deluge of Fed speeches will shape interest rate sentiment and financial market reactions—affecting everything from mortgage rates for HBCU alumni to capital access for Black banks, credit unions, and small businesses.


HBCU Money Perspective:
This week’s economic events carry clear signals for the African American economy. Slower service sector growth, rising debt reliance, and stagnant productivity reinforce the need for systemic change—particularly in access to capital, support for Black manufacturing, and inclusive monetary policy. As Fed policy direction becomes clearer, HBCUs, Black-owned financial institutions, and policy advocates must prepare to assertively engage with these shifts to protect and grow Black wealth.