Tag Archives: black wealth building

Russell Wilson and Ciara Wilson: The Quiet Matchmakers Reshaping Black Love and Its Implications for African American Institutions

Posted on February 13, 2026 by hbcumoney | Leave a comment

Love is or it ain’t. Thin love ain’t love at all. – Toni Morrison, Beloved

When Pittsburgh Steelers wide receiver DK Metcalf proposed to Grammy-nominated singer Normani in March 2025, everyone saw the romance. But few understood the deeper significance. Three years earlier, Russell Wilson and Ciara had orchestrated the introduction at a party where Ciara made sure Normani attended. “They was playing cupid, but it worked,” Normani later said. “If you could trust a couple [to set you up], that would be the couple.”

Four months later in July 2025, when NBA star Donovan Mitchell proposed to singer Coco Jones, the Wilsons were once again celebrating behind the scenes. Russell had helped plan the proposal, working with luxury event planners to create the perfect moment.

Two high-profile engagements. One couple quietly orchestrating connections. But this isn’t just celebrity matchmaking—it’s something more profound. Russell and Ciara Wilson are modeling what intentional Black love looks like, and the ripple effects could fundamentally reshape African American institutional capacity at a moment when our community desperately needs it.

What makes the Wilsons’ matchmaking significant isn’t the celebrity of the couples they bring together—it’s the deliberateness of it. They’re not hoping love happens. They’re creating the conditions for it. They’re investing three years of relationship before an engagement. They’re using their social capital to bridge different professional spheres, connecting successful Black professionals across industries who might never meet organically despite moving in similar circles.

This kind of intentionality around Black love has historical resonance. During the segregation era and Jim Crow, when every institution worked to keep Black families separated and destabilized, our communities survived by being deliberate about connection. Churches served as matchmakers. Family networks facilitated introductions. HBCUs became spaces where Black professionals met their future spouses. The community understood that strong marriages weren’t just about individual happiness—they were about survival and institutional building.

The data reveals something striking: marriage rates for Black adults were higher than for white adults in every U.S. Census from 1890 to 1940—the height of overt racism and segregation. Even in 1960, the marriage rate for Black adults was 61%, and two-thirds of Black children lived in two-parent households. Today, only 31% of Black Americans are married, and half have never been married at all.

What changed wasn’t racism—that existed then and persists now. What changed was the infrastructure of intentionality around Black love. The systems that deliberately brought people together, that supported young marriages, that made partnership formation a community priority—those eroded while the obstacles remained.

Understanding what the Wilsons are doing requires understanding what Black families have survived—and what continues to threaten our ability to build generational wealth and institutional power through stable partnerships.

The historical attacks on Black family formation were systematic and devastating. During segregation, redlining prevented Black families from buying homes in appreciating neighborhoods, which meant that even when Black couples married and saved, their wealth accumulated at a fraction of the rate of white families. Housing policies created by the federal government in the 1930s explicitly designated Black neighborhoods as too risky for mortgage lending, forcing Black families into predatory contracts that often ended in eviction.

But perhaps no threat has been more insidious than the systematic devaluation of Black women as romantic partners. Research consistently shows that Black women face unique marginalization in the dating market. Studies reveal that Black women receive the lowest desirability ratings on dating platforms from men of all races, with one 2014 OKCupid analysis finding Black women rated as “least attractive” compared to women of other races. These aren’t just numbers—they reflect deep-seated stereotypes that paint Black women as too masculine, too strong, too independent, too angry to be desirable partners.

The roots of these stereotypes trace directly to slavery, when Black femininity was deliberately contrasted against white femininity to justify Black women’s oppression and exploitation. When Black women assertively advocate for themselves, society—including some Black men—uses labels like “loud,” “angry,” and “emasculating” to question their worthiness for romantic relationships. The myth persists despite Black women’s clear desire for marriage and partnership.

This devaluation creates a devastating cycle. Black men face their own pressures and internalized racism, sometimes leading them to view relationships outside the Black community as aspirational—an “upgrade” that signals status and success. The data bears this out: among Black newlyweds with bachelor’s degrees, men are more than twice as likely as women to marry outside their race (30% versus 13%). Some Black men internalize colorism and Eurocentric beauty standards, further narrowing the pool of Black women they consider desirable partners.

When successful Black men choose partners outside the community without understanding the implications, they dilute the very networks and institutional capacity the Black community needs to build generational power. They reduce the already constrained supply of partners for Black women who, despite facing the most challenging dating environment of any demographic, remain the group most committed to intra-racial partnership. This isn’t about policing individual choice—it’s about recognizing that individual choices, aggregated across thousands of successful Black professionals, have community-level consequences for institutional sustainability.

When the Great Migration brought millions of Black families north seeking better opportunities, they found wages increasing but housing wealth eroding. Segregated housing markets meant Black families paid higher rents for deteriorating properties while watching their neighborhoods decline in value. The very act of Black families moving into a neighborhood triggered white flight, which collapsed property values. Homes that should have been vehicles for wealth accumulation became wealth traps.

Then came the deliberate destruction. The Tulsa Race Massacre of 1921 obliterated what was known as “Black Wall Street”—a thriving district where Black families owned land, operated businesses, and built wealth estimated at over $200 million in today’s dollars. Hundreds died, thousands were left homeless, and laws were passed to prevent survivors from rebuilding. This wasn’t unique. Chicago saw approximately 1,000 Black homes and businesses burned during the Red Summer of 1919. Across the country, thriving Black communities were systematically destroyed through racial violence that governments failed to prevent and often actively supported.

The wealth that did accumulate often couldn’t be transferred. Without access to estate planning services and facing discriminatory legal systems, many Black families lost property through “heirs property” designations that left land ownership unclear and prevented descendants from accessing the wealth their grandparents had built.

Today’s threats are more subtle but no less destructive. Mass incarceration has removed hundreds of thousands of Black men from their communities, destroying the gender balance needed for relationship formation. The student debt crisis hits Black families hardest—Black graduates owe an average of $25,000 more than their white peers—making the economic foundation for marriage more precarious. The wealth gap means young Black couples can’t fall back on family wealth during rough patches the way white couples can. Geographic dispersion means young Black professionals leave the high-marriage-rate states where HBCU ecosystems once facilitated connections, moving to cities where they’re isolated from institutional support networks.

But perhaps most damaging is the loss of cultural infrastructure around Black love. The deliberate community matchmaking of previous generations has largely disappeared. The social pressure and support for marriage has weakened. Dating apps have replaced friend introductions, optimizing for superficial attraction rather than shared values and compatible life goals. Young Black professionals, especially those who’ve left HBCU networks, often lack access to communities of Black peers navigating similar life stages.

The Wilsons understand something crucial: strong Black marriages aren’t just about personal fulfillment. They’re about building institutional capacity. When they facilitate a marriage between DK Metcalf and Normani, they’re not just creating a happy couple—they’re multiplying resources that could flow to Black institutions.

Consider the mathematics of it. Married couples don’t just have double the income of single individuals—they accumulate wealth exponentially faster. Black married couples have a median net worth of $131,000 compared to just $29,000 for single Black individuals. This isn’t because marriage magically creates money. It’s because marriage allows for coordinated financial strategy, shared expenses, combined networks, and the ability to take risks one income couldn’t support.

But the real multiplier effect extends beyond individual household wealth. Strong Black marriages create:

Coordinated Philanthropic Power: A married couple decides together where to direct resources. They create family foundations. They develop multi-year giving strategies to institutions they both value. They leverage their combined networks to recruit other donors. They become major benefactors rather than occasional contributors.

Intergenerational Institutional Commitment: Children from stable two-parent households inherit not just wealth but institutional loyalty. A child whose parents both attended HBCUs, both support Black cultural institutions, both invest in Black businesses—that child grows up with institutional commitment encoded in their identity. They become the next generation of supporters, leaders, and advocates.

Professional Network Effects: When two successful Black professionals marry, their networks merge. Different industries intersect, creating unexpected opportunities. Professional connections multiply. These network overlaps create opportunities for institutional partnerships, corporate sponsorships, business ventures, and talent pipelines that wouldn’t exist otherwise.

Resilience and Risk-Taking: Married couples can take risks single individuals cannot. They can invest in Black startups, fund untested ventures, support experimental programs, and make long-term commitments to institutions precisely because they have a partner sharing the risk. This risk-taking capacity is essential for institutional innovation and growth.

Cultural Modeling and Social Capital: Visible successful Black marriages change cultural narratives. They make marriage aspirational. They demonstrate what’s possible. They create social pressure in the positive sense—the expectation that successful Black professionals will find partners, build families, and invest in community. This cultural shift has compound effects across generations.

The geographic data supports this institutional impact. Seven of the top ten states with highest Black marriage rates—Virginia (34.0%), Maryland (33.2%), Texas and Delaware (32.8%), Florida and North Carolina (31.3%), and Georgia (30.9%)—are HBCU states. These states have thriving Black middle classes, strong African American institutions, and robust professional networks. The marriage rates aren’t coincidental—they’re evidence of how institutional ecosystems and family stability reinforce each other.

What the Wilsons are doing works because they understand marriage formation as network building. They’re not running a dating service. They’re curating a community of successful Black professionals who share values, understand each other’s pressures, and can build partnerships that transcend individual achievement.

Research shows people are still most likely to meet long-term partners through friends, family, or work rather than dating apps. The Wilsons are leveraging this truth at scale. Every couple they help create becomes a new node in an expanding network. Metcalf and Normani will introduce their single friends to each other. Mitchell and Jones will facilitate connections within their circles. The Wilsons’ nine-year marriage serves as the model and proof of concept.

This creates self-reinforcing cycles. Strong marriages produce stable families. Those families invest in institutions. Those institutions create spaces where the next generation forms relationships. Those relationships produce more strong marriages. The cycle builds momentum.

This is how communities accumulate power—not through individual success stories but through interconnected networks of families committed to collective advancement. During segregation, Black communities maintained this infrastructure deliberately because they had to. We knew that isolated success meant nothing if it couldn’t be transferred to the next generation or scaled across the community.

The Wilsons are reviving this model for the contemporary moment, when Black professionals are more economically successful than ever but often isolated from the institutional networks that would allow that success to compound.

Imagine if what the Wilsons are doing at the celebrity level was replicated across every tier of Black professional achievement. Imagine if young Black doctors, lawyers, engineers, educators, entrepreneurs were part of deliberate matchmaking networks that facilitated connections based on shared values and institutional commitment.

The compound effects would be staggering:

Economic Impact: Thousands of additional stable Black marriages would translate to billions in accumulated wealth. That wealth, properly channeled, could recapitalize Black institutions that have operated on shoestring budgets for generations. HBCUs could build endowments rivaling elite white institutions. Black hospitals could expand. Community development financial institutions could scale their lending. Black cultural institutions could thrive rather than merely survive.

Political Power: Married couples are more likely to vote, more likely to engage in civic life, more likely to serve on boards and run for office. A generation of politically engaged Black couples could fundamentally shift electoral dynamics and policy priorities in states with large Black populations.

Professional Advancement: The network effects of thousands of strategic Black marriages would create unprecedented opportunities for collaboration. Black entrepreneurs would have access to capital through their spouses’ networks. Black professionals would have insider information about opportunities through their partners’ connections. The “old boys network” that has excluded Black professionals for generations could be matched by networks of Black couples leveraging their combined social capital.

Cultural Renaissance: Stable Black families create the conditions for cultural production. Artists need economic security to take creative risks. Writers need time to develop their craft. Musicians need resources to experiment. When Black creative professionals have partners who can provide economic stability, the entire community benefits from their artistic output.

Institutional Sustainability: Perhaps most critically, networks of strong Black marriages ensure institutional continuity. When couples commit to supporting institutions together, those institutions can plan decades into the future. They can launch ambitious programs knowing they have committed donors. They can weather economic downturns because their supporter base is stable. They can dream bigger because their foundation is stronger.

But recognizing what’s possible raises uncomfortable questions about what’s missing. If the Wilsons can facilitate life-changing connections within celebrity circles, why doesn’t similar infrastructure exist for the thousands of Black professionals outside those circles? If marriage rates for Black adults were higher during Jim Crow than today, what infrastructure did we lose—and how do we rebuild it?

These questions don’t have simple answers, but they demand serious consideration:

How do we recreate the deliberate matchmaking infrastructure that sustained Black communities during segregation, adapted for contemporary circumstances? Church networks and family connections can’t carry the full weight when young Black professionals are geographically dispersed and disconnected from traditional institutions.

What would institutional investment in Black relationship formation look like? HBCUs, Black Greek organizations, professional associations, cultural institutions—these entities have the trust and access to facilitate connections. But do they recognize this as part of their mission? Do they allocate resources to it? Do they measure success by families formed, not just events hosted?

How do we address the structural barriers that make marriage economically precarious for young Black professionals? Student debt, wage gaps, wealth inequality, housing costs—these aren’t relationship problems, but they make relationship formation dramatically harder for Black Americans than for white Americans with similar educational attainment.

What role does media and culture play in shaping expectations around Black love? When the dominant narratives about Black relationships emphasize dysfunction and failure, when successful Black marriages are invisible, when young Black people grow up without models of healthy partnerships—this creates self-fulfilling prophecies that perpetuate the marriage gap.

How do we balance individual freedom and choice with community needs for strong families and institutions? Nobody should be pressured into marriage. But if the community loses the infrastructure that facilitates healthy relationship formation, individual freedom becomes isolation by default.

The Wilsons have shown what’s possible. Their intentional matchmaking, their sustained investment in couples’ success, their willingness to leverage their social capital for others’ benefit—this is the model. But celebrity circles can only accommodate so many couples. The question is how to scale this intentionality across the Black professional class.

The answer must be institutional, because only institutions can sustain infrastructure across generations. Individual matchmakers burn out. Informal networks fragment. But institutions—if properly designed and resourced—can maintain systems indefinitely.

What might institutional investment in Black love infrastructure look like?

HBCU Alumni Networks as Matchmaking Ecosystems: Alumni associations in major cities could host quarterly events specifically designed to facilitate connections among young Black professionals. Not awkward singles mixers, but sophisticated networking events, community service projects, cultural experiences where relationships form organically among people with shared backgrounds and values. Success could be measured not just by attendance but by marriages facilitated and families formed.

Black Professional Associations as Relationship Hubs: Organizations for Black lawyers, doctors, engineers, educators, entrepreneurs could recognize relationship facilitation as core to their mission. When successful Black professionals marry, their combined professional power benefits the entire community. These associations could create structured mentorship that pairs young professionals not just for career guidance but for life partnership modeling.

Technology Platforms Designed for Black Love: Dating apps optimize for engagement and superficial attraction. What if technology was designed specifically to facilitate meaningful connections among Black professionals committed to community building? Platforms that prioritize shared values, institutional loyalty, life goals, and cultural understanding over swipe-right dynamics.

Financial Incentives for Family Formation: What if institutions offered tangible support for young Black couples? Grants for couples pursuing marriage counseling. Low-interest loans for home purchases for alumni couples. Scholarships for children of HBCU alumni couples. These investments would pay dividends in institutional loyalty that compounds across generations.

Cultural Campaigns Celebrating Black Love: Media campaigns showcasing successful Black marriages, particularly among professionals committed to community advancement. Not aspirational fantasy but realistic portrayals of how successful couples navigate challenges, support each other’s growth, and invest in institutions. Make Black love visible, aspirational, and achievable.

Research Infrastructure: We lack basic data on what makes Black marriages successful. Which combinations of backgrounds, values, and life circumstances predict long-term partnership success? What interventions effectively support young Black couples through early marriage challenges? Hampton University’s National Center on African American Marriage and Parenting represents a start, but we need comprehensive research infrastructure that can inform evidence-based programming.

The answers won’t come from any single intervention but from a ecosystem of institutional support that makes Black love not just possible but probable. That makes stable marriages not just aspirational but expected. That makes family formation not just personal but communal.

Russell and Ciara Wilson didn’t set out to solve the Black marriage crisis or to transform African American institutional capacity. They’re simply two people who understand the value of healthy relationships and want to share that blessing with their friends.

But their efforts reveal what’s missing and what’s possible. They show that when influential people commit to facilitating connections within Black professional circles, life-changing partnerships form. They demonstrate that intentionality around Black love produces results that individual effort alone cannot achieve. They prove that building strong Black marriages is institution-building at its most fundamental level.

The viral social media pleas asking the Wilsons to expand their matchmaking aren’t just jokes. They reflect a genuine hunger for what the Wilsons provide—thoughtful facilitation of connections among Black professionals who share values and aspirations. They reveal the absence of infrastructure that our grandparents’ generation took for granted because it was built into the fabric of Black community life.

The declining marriage rate among African Americans isn’t inevitable. It’s the result of infrastructure collapse that can be reversed through deliberate institutional investment. The opportunity is to recognize that facilitating Black love isn’t tangential to institutional missions—it’s foundational to building the networks of stable families that will sustain Black institutions for generations.

Seven of the ten states with highest Black marriage rates are HBCU states, which means the foundation still exists. The communities are still present. The institutions still stand. What’s needed is leadership willing to acknowledge that the work of building Black institutional power begins with building Black families. That the work of building Black families requires intentional infrastructure. That the work of building that infrastructure is everyone’s responsibility who claims commitment to Black advancement.

The Wilsons are showing us what’s possible when two people commit to intentionally building Black love within their circles of influence. The question for the rest of us—for institutions, for leaders, for anyone with social capital and community commitment—is whether we’ll do the same within our own spheres. Whether we’ll recognize matchmaking as institution-building. Whether we’ll invest in the infrastructure that makes Black love not just possible but inevitable.

The fire is there. The Wilsons are fanning the flames. The question is whether the rest of us will add fuel until it becomes a blaze that lights the way for generations to come.

Leave a comment

Posted in Lifestyle

Tagged African American institutions, African American marriages, Black couples, Black family formation, black love, Black marriage rates, black philanthropy, black wealth building, Black women dating, celebrity matchmaking, Ciara, Coco Jones, DK Metcalf, Donovan Mitchell, hbcu alumni, HBCU relationships, interracial dating, Normani, relationship building, Russell Wilson

Teaching the Next Generation: A Guide to Empowering African American Youth Through Strategic Philanthropy

Posted on February 10, 2026 by hbcumoney | Leave a comment

A single twig breaks, but the bundle of twigs is strong. – Tecumseh

The tradition of giving runs deep in African American communities. From the mutual aid societies formed during enslavement to the church collections that funded the Civil Rights Movement, Black Americans have always understood that our collective survival depends on our willingness to invest in one another. Yet somewhere between necessity and aspiration, we’ve lost the language to teach our children that philanthropy isn’t charity—it’s power.

Teaching African American children ages 5-18 about philanthropy means doing more than dropping coins in a collection plate. It means helping them understand that strategic giving builds the institutions that will protect, educate, and employ them throughout their lives. It means showing them that every dollar they contribute to Black-led organizations is a vote for their own future.

Starting Early: Philanthropy for Elementary Ages (5-10)

Young children understand fairness instinctively. They know when something isn’t right, and they want to help fix it. This natural empathy creates the perfect foundation for introducing philanthropic concepts.

Begin with concrete examples from African American history. Tell them about the Free African Society, founded in 1787 by Richard Allen and Absalom Jones, which provided mutual aid to Black Philadelphians. Explain how enslaved people pooled resources to purchase freedom for family members. These aren’t abstract concepts they’re survival strategies that became institutional frameworks.

Create a family giving jar where children can contribute a portion of their allowance or gift money. Let them research and choose a Black-led organization to support quarterly. This could be a local youth program, a historical preservation society, or an HBCU scholarship fund. The key is giving them agency in the decision-making process. When children see their small contributions combine with others to create meaningful impact, they begin to understand collective power.

Use storytelling to illustrate how institutions are built. Talk about how HBCUs were created because white institutions excluded Black students. Explain how Mary McLeod Bethune started a school with $1.50 and turned it into Bethune-Cookman University. Show them that great institutions often begin with small, consistent contributions from people who understood the long game.

Middle School: Understanding Institutional Building (11-13)

By middle school, children can grasp more sophisticated concepts about how money moves and how power is built. This is when we introduce them to the difference between charity and institutional philanthropy.

Charity addresses immediate needs—feeding the hungry, clothing the poor. Institutional philanthropy builds the structures that create long-term change: schools, hospitals, community development corporations, legal defense funds, policy organizations. Both matter, but only institutional philanthropy shifts power dynamics.

Teach them about the NAACP Legal Defense Fund, established in 1940. Explain how sustained philanthropic support allowed lawyers like Thurgood Marshall to develop the legal strategy that led to Brown v. Board of Education. This wasn’t a one-time donation it was years of investment that transformed American society.

Introduce the concept of endowments and investment income. Too many African American organizations operate in perpetual crisis mode, chasing donations year after year. Show students the difference between an organization with a $100,000 annual budget that must be fundraised every twelve months and an organization with a $2 million endowment generating $80,000 annually in investment income. The second organization can focus on mission instead of survival.

Start a philanthropy club at school or in your community. Let students identify a need in their community and develop a giving circle to address it. They should practice everything: setting fundraising goals, researching organizations, making collective decisions, tracking impact, and understanding how their contributions grow through consistent giving. This hands-on experience transforms abstract concepts into practical skills.

High School: Strategic Power Building (14-18)

High school students are ready to understand philanthropy as a tool for social, economic, and political empowerment. They can analyze power structures and recognize how institutional support or the lack thereof shapes outcomes in Black communities.

Teach them to read institutional budgets and annual reports. Show them how to evaluate whether an organization has sufficient reserves, how much goes to programs versus overhead, and whether they’re building long-term sustainability. This financial literacy is essential for effective philanthropy.

Explore the concept of investment income in depth. Many students don’t realize that major institutions—universities, museums, hospitals—operate primarily on endowment income, not annual fundraising. Harvard’s endowment generated approximately $2.3 billion in investment income in recent years. Imagine if HBCUs collectively had similar resources. Explain that building Black institutional power requires moving beyond the donation mentality to an investment mindset.

Discuss how philanthropy intersects with political power. Show them how think tanks, policy organizations, and advocacy groups are funded. Explain that when Black communities don’t adequately fund our own policy organizations, others define the agenda affecting our lives. The Tea Party movement and its affiliated organizations received hundreds of millions in philanthropic support that reshaped American politics. What might be possible if African American communities invested similarly in organizations advancing our interests?

Examine collective philanthropy models. Traditional philanthropy often centers wealthy donors making large gifts. But collective giving where many people contribute smaller amounts has always been the African American philanthropic model. From church building funds to contemporary giving circles, we’ve understood that our strength lies in numbers. Today’s technology makes collective philanthropy more powerful than ever. A thousand people giving $100 monthly creates $1.2 million annually enough to endow a scholarship, support a community organization, or launch a new initiative.

Encourage students to start giving now, even if it’s $5 monthly to an organization they believe in. The habit matters more than the amount. A teenager who gives $10 monthly from age 16 to 66 contributes $6,000 in direct donations, but if that money is invested and earns average returns, it represents tens of thousands in institutional support.

Teaching African American youth about philanthropy means helping them understand its components and how they work together to build institutional power.

Educational Institutions: HBCUs, independent schools, scholarship funds, and educational support organizations create pathways to opportunity and preserve cultural knowledge. Sustained philanthropic support allows these institutions to build endowments, improve facilities, and attract top faculty and students.

Economic Development: Community development corporations, Black-owned business incubators, affordable housing organizations, and loan funds build wealth and economic stability. These institutions require patient capital and sustained support to create generational impact.

Legal and Policy Organizations: Civil rights organizations, legal defense funds, policy think tanks, and advocacy groups shape the rules that govern society. Inadequate funding in this sector means Black interests remain underrepresented in policy formation.

Cultural Institutions: Museums, historical societies, arts organizations, and media companies preserve our stories and shape narratives. Control over our cultural narrative requires institutional infrastructure that only sustained philanthropy can build.

Health and Social Services: Community health centers, mental health organizations, and social service providers address immediate needs while building the institutional capacity to serve Black communities long-term.

Each component requires different funding strategies. Some need operating support, others need capital for buildings or technology, many need endowment building. Teaching youth to think strategically about where and how they give helps them maximize impact.

The most important lesson we can teach African American children about philanthropy is that it’s not optional it’s essential. Every community that has built institutional power has done so through sustained, strategic philanthropy. Jewish communities support Jewish institutions. Asian American communities support Asian American institutions. African American communities must do the same.

Start conversations early. Make giving a family practice. Teach children to evaluate organizations critically. Help them understand that building Black institutional power is a marathon, not a sprint. Show them that their contributions, combined with others, create the schools, organizations, and institutions that will serve generations to come.

This isn’t about guilt or obligation. It’s about power, self-determination, and legacy. When we teach our children that philanthropy is institution-building, we give them tools to shape their own future rather than waiting for others to determine it for them.

The question isn’t whether African American communities can afford to invest in our institutions. The question is whether we can afford not to.

Leave a comment

Posted in Philanthropy

Tagged African American economic empowerment, African American institutions, African American philanthropy, Black community investment, Black financial literacy, Black institutional power, black wealth building, Black-led organizations, charitable giving education, collective giving circles, Community Development, endowment building strategies, generational wealth, HBCU fundraising, institutional philanthropy, philanthropy for kids, strategic philanthropy, teaching children about giving, youth philanthropy education

Virginia Union University’s Keller Williams Partnership Exposes HBCU’s Fundamental Misunderstanding of Wealth Building

Posted on January 23, 2026 by hbcumoney | Leave a comment

“It is disappointing that HBCUs and any African American institution for that matter have not figured out yet that the circulation of our social, economic, and political capital with each other at the institutional level is where the acute crisis of closing the wealth gap truly lies. Yet, we still chase colder ice.” – William A. Foster, IV

The percentage of PWI dollars that flow into African American owned businesses is likely limited to catering a social event. Beyond that, their dollar never even likely floats pass an African American business. However, HBCUs certainly cannot say the same. HBCU capital leaving the African American financial ecosystem looks like every dam on Earth broke at the same time.

Virginia Union University’s recent announcement of a partnership with Keller Williams Richmond West represents a familiar pattern in HBCU decision-making, one that undermines the very mission these institutions claim to champion. While VUU proudly touts this collaboration as “groundbreaking” and positions it as a pathway to “closing the racial wealth gap,” the partnership reveals a fundamental misunderstanding of how wealth gaps are actually closed. The reality is stark: you cannot close a racial wealth gap by systematically excluding institutions from your own community from the economic opportunities your institution creates.

When HBCUs partner exclusively with non-Black institutions, they create what economists call a “leaky bucket” effect. The money, talent, and social capital generated by these historically Black institutions flow outward to other communities rather than circulating within the African American ecosystem. Every dollar spent with a non-Black vendor, every partnership signed with a non-Black firm, every opportunity directed away from Black-owned businesses represents wealth that could have been building generational prosperity in Black communities—but instead enriches other groups. This is where the fundamental disconnect lies: HBCUs understand the importance of encouraging individual African Americans to support Black-owned businesses, yet these same institutions fail to apply this principle at the institutional level where the real economic power resides.

The conversation about the circulation of the African American dollar has historically focused on individual consumer behavior. We’ve heard for decades about the need for Black consumers to shop at Black-owned stores, bank with Black-owned financial institutions, and hire Black-owned service providers. Studies have shown that a dollar circulates in Asian communities for approximately thirty days, in Jewish communities for around twenty days, in white communities for seventeen days, but in Black communities for only six hours before leaving. This abysmal circulation rate is correctly identified as a critical factor in the persistent wealth gap. But what these discussions almost always miss is that individual consumer behavior, while important, pales in comparison to institutional spending power.

When Virginia Union University signs a multiyear partnership with Keller Williams, it’s not spending a few hundred or even a few thousand dollars. Institutional partnerships involve hundreds of thousands or millions of dollars in direct and indirect economic benefits—facility usage, marketing exposure, student referrals, commission opportunities, and brand association. A single institutional partnership can equal the spending power of hundreds or thousands of individual consumers. Yet HBCUs consistently fail to recognize that their institutional spending decisions have exponentially more impact on wealth circulation than any individual consumer choice their students or alumni might make.

VUU’s partnership with Keller Williams is particularly emblematic of this pattern. According to the announcement, this collaboration will create “the first Keller Williams Real Estate Hub on an HBCU campus in Virginia” and will be “designed to bridge education, entrepreneurship, and real estate into one powerful ecosystem.” The goals are admirable: career readiness, economic mobility, wealth-building opportunities through real estate education and professional pathways. The partnership is positioned as being co-led by members of Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, Incorporated, with explicit language about sisterhood, brotherhood, and service in action. But here’s the question VUU administrators apparently didn’t ask: Why not create this “powerful ecosystem” with a Black-owned real estate company?

The assumption underlying most HBCU partnerships with non-Black firms seems to be that suitable Black-owned alternatives don’t exist. This assumption is demonstrably false. Black-owned real estate companies operate throughout the United States, including in Virginia and the Richmond area. These firms possess the expertise, resources, and commitment to serve HBCU students and alumni. United Real Estate Richmond, which describes itself as the largest Black-owned real estate firm in the Mid-Atlantic region, operates right in VUU’s backyard. CTI Real Estate is a Black-owned, woman-owned firm serving Virginia and Maryland. Nationally, companies like Braden Real Estate Group—a Black-owned Houston-based brokerage co-founded by Prairie View A&M University graduate Nicole Braden Handy—demonstrate the success of HBCU alumni in building substantial real estate businesses. H.J. Russell & Company, founded in 1952, stands as one of the largest minority-owned real estate firms in the United States. These Black-owned firms have proven track records of success, deep community connections, and explicit missions to build wealth in African American communities. These firms could provide the same—or better—opportunities that Keller Williams offers, with the added benefit of keeping wealth circulating in the Black community.

The difference would be transformative. A partnership with a Black-owned real estate firm would actually contribute to closing the wealth gap. It would demonstrate to students what Black excellence in business looks like. It would create mentorship opportunities with professionals who understand the unique challenges and opportunities facing Black Americans in real estate. It would ensure that the commissions, fees, and other economic benefits generated by the partnership stay within the African American economic ecosystem. Most importantly, it would model the institutional behavior necessary for true wealth accumulation—showing students that circulation of Black dollars must happen at every level, not just in their personal spending habits.

But to truly understand what institutional circulation looks like, consider this scenario: An African American real estate investment firm—owned by an HBCU alumnus and employing HBCU graduates as project managers, analysts, and development specialists—decides to develop a mixed-use building in Richmond. The firm uses Braden Real Estate Group to acquire the land. They secure financing from an African American bank like OneUnited Bank or Liberty Bank, supplemented by an investment syndicate of African American investors. The construction is handled by an African American-owned construction company like H.J. Russell & Company. When the transaction closes, it’s processed through Answer Title & Escrow LLC, the Black-owned title company founded by University of the District of Columbia alumna Donna Shuler. The property management contract goes to another Black-owned firm. The legal work is handled by Black attorneys. The accounting is done by a Black-owned firm.

This is what institutional circulation actually looks like. In this single development project, wealth circulates through multiple Black-owned institutions at every stage of the transaction. The bank earns interest income that it can then lend to other Black businesses and homeowners. The title company generates revenue that allows it to hire more staff and take on larger projects. The construction company builds its portfolio and capacity to compete for even bigger developments. The real estate investment firm creates returns for its Black investors and proves the viability of Black-owned development companies. The project managers and analysts gain experience that prepares them to start their own firms. Every single point in the transaction keeps wealth circulating within the African American economic ecosystem, building institutional capacity, creating jobs, generating returns, and proving that Black-owned institutions can handle sophisticated, large-scale projects.

Now contrast that with what happens when VUU partners with Keller Williams. Students may get training and even jobs as real estate agents, but the institutional wealth flows to Keller Williams—a non-Black company. The commissions generated by VUU-affiliated agents enrich Keller Williams’ franchise system. The brand association benefits Keller Williams’ reputation. The networking opportunities primarily connect students to Keller Williams’ existing (predominantly non-Black) networks. And when these students eventually facilitate property transactions, the ancillary services—financing, title work, legal services—typically flow to whatever institutions Keller Williams recommends, which are unlikely to be Black-owned.

The VUU-Keller Williams partnership might help individual Black students enter the real estate industry, but it does absolutely nothing to build the Black-owned institutional infrastructure necessary for true wealth building. In fact, it actively undermines that infrastructure by directing institutional resources and opportunities away from Black-owned firms. VUU essentially takes Black talent, students who could be building careers with Black-owned firms, and channels them into a non-Black institution, teaching them that Black institutions aren’t capable of providing the same opportunities.

This is the critical insight that HBCUs continue to miss: institutional circulation of capital is what builds lasting economic power. When individual Black consumers support Black businesses, they create important but limited impact. One person shopping at a Black-owned grocery store or banking with a Black-owned bank makes a difference, but a small one. When Black institutions support Black businesses, they create transformative, generational impact. An HBCU that partners with Black-owned banks, construction companies, real estate firms, technology providers, and service companies doesn’t just create individual transactions it builds an entire ecosystem of mutually reinforcing institutions that grow stronger together. This institutional ecosystem then has the power to compete with non-Black institutions, create opportunities at scale, and genuinely close wealth gaps.

Think about what would happen if every HBCU made a commitment to work exclusively with Black-owned institutions whenever viable alternatives exist. Imagine if all 101 HBCUs banked with Black-owned banks, used Black-owned construction companies for campus buildings, partnered with Black-owned real estate firms for student housing and community development, contracted with Black-owned technology companies for IT services, and hired Black-owned firms for legal, accounting, and consulting work. The combined institutional spending power of HBCUs would transform the Black business landscape. Black-owned banks would have hundreds of millions in deposits, allowing them to make larger loans and compete for more business. Black-owned construction companies would have steady revenue streams that would allow them to invest in equipment, hire skilled workers, and bid on larger projects. Black-owned real estate firms would have the institutional backing to compete for major developments. Black-owned technology companies would have the resources to innovate and scale.

But beyond the immediate economic impact, this institutional circulation would create something even more valuable: proof of concept. When Alabama State University chooses a Black-owned bank to handle a $125 million transaction, it proves that Black-owned financial institutions can handle sophisticated, large-scale deals. When VUU partners with a Black-owned real estate firm to create a campus-based real estate hub, it proves that Black-owned companies can deliver the same quality and scale as non-Black competitors. When HBCUs consistently work with Black-owned construction companies, law firms, accounting firms, and consulting companies, they build a track record of success that these firms can point to when competing for other major contracts. This institutional validation is precisely what Black-owned businesses need to break through the barriers that have historically excluded them from large-scale opportunities.

VUU’s partnership is not an isolated incident, it’s part of a troubling pattern. As HBCU Money has documented, only two HBCUs are believed to bank with Black-owned banks, meaning well over 90 percent of HBCUs do not bank with African American-owned financial institutions. This mirrors the broader pattern where over 90 percent of African Americans who attend college choose non-HBCUs, and in both cases, neither Black-owned banks nor HBCUs are able to fulfill their potential without the patronage and investment of those they were built to serve. Alabama State University’s $125 million decision to partner with a non-Black financial institution exemplifies what can be called “Island Mentality”—the failure of HBCUs to connect with and support the African American private sector. When Alabama State University had the opportunity to work with Black-owned banks and financial institutions, they chose to look elsewhere. Consider the irony: Howard University, African America’s flagship HBCU, partnered with PNC Bank, a Pittsburgh-based institution with over $550 billion in assets, more than 100 times the combined assets of all remaining Black-owned banks to create a $3.4 million annual entrepreneurship center. Meanwhile, Industrial Bank, a Black-owned institution with $723 million in assets, operates right in Howard’s backyard. PNC Bank’s executive team commanded $81 million in compensation in 2022 alone, while only one Black-owned bank in America has assets exceeding $1 billion. These decisions, like VUU’s partnership with Keller Williams, send a devastating message: even historically Black institutions don’t believe Black-owned businesses are worthy of their partnership.

The impact extends beyond symbolism. Every time an HBCU chooses a non-Black partner when Black alternatives exist, it represents lost revenue for Black-owned businesses that could have grown stronger, hired HBCU graduates, and created more opportunities. It represents missed networking opportunities for students who could have built relationships with Black business leaders. It represents weakened community ties that could have been strengthened through institutional support. It represents reduced political capital for the Black business community, which needs institutional backing to compete for larger contracts. And it perpetuates stereotypes about the capability and reliability of Black-owned businesses.

Let’s be clear about what “closing the wealth gap” actually requires. According to the Federal Reserve’s Survey of Consumer Finances, the median wealth of white families is approximately ten times greater than that of Black families. This gap didn’t emerge overnight, and it won’t close through symbolic gestures or partnerships that funnel Black talent and capital into non-Black institutions. Closing the wealth gap requires wealth creation within the Black community through business ownership and entrepreneurship. It requires wealth circulation that keeps dollars moving through Black-owned businesses before leaving the community. It requires wealth accumulation through strategic investments in Black-owned assets. And it requires wealth transfer across generations through education, mentorship, and institutional support.

When VUU partners with Keller Williams instead of a Black-owned real estate company, it fails on every single one of these requirements. The wealth created by student success in real estate will flow to Keller Williams and its predominantly non-Black agents. The circulation of capital will happen outside the Black community. The accumulation will benefit non-Black wealth holders. And the transfer of knowledge and opportunity will lack the cultural competency and community commitment that comes from working with Black-owned institutions. Most critically, VUU misses the opportunity to demonstrate to its students how institutional circulation of capital works, teaching them instead that even Black institutions should look outside their community for partnerships when it matters most.

The example of what institutional circulation could look like in real estate development isn’t theoretical it’s entirely possible right now with existing Black-owned institutions. When Donna Shuler founded Answer Title & Escrow LLC as a University of the District of Columbia alumna, she created exactly the kind of institutional capacity that makes the full-circle Black real estate ecosystem viable. As she explained in her interview with HBCU Money, title companies play a crucial role in every real estate transaction—they ensure clear ownership, coordinate closings, prepare legal documents, collect funds, and issue title insurance. Having a Black-owned title company means that millions of dollars in fees and service charges stay within the Black community rather than flowing out. Combined with Black-owned banks providing financing, Black-owned real estate firms handling acquisitions, Black-owned construction companies building the projects, and Black-owned development firms managing the entire process, you create a complete ecosystem where institutional wealth circulates multiple times before leaving the community.

This is what VUU could have created with its real estate initiative but chose not to. Instead of building an ecosystem where Black institutions strengthen each other, VUU created a pipeline that extracts Black talent and channels it into a non-Black institution. Students will learn real estate from Keller Williams, make connections through Keller Williams networks, and likely facilitate transactions that benefit Keller Williams and its associated service providers. The institutional wealth created by VUU’s endorsement and student pipeline flows entirely out of the Black community.

HBCUs often justify these partnerships by arguing that non-Black firms offer broader networks, more resources, or greater reach. This argument is both self-fulfilling and self-defeating. It’s self-fulfilling because when HBCUs consistently choose non-Black partners, they ensure that Black-owned businesses never gain the institutional backing needed to compete at scale. How can Black-owned real estate companies build the same networks as Keller Williams when HBCUs, the institutions that should be their natural partners, consistently choose their competitors? It’s self-defeating because it undermines the very purpose of HBCUs. These institutions were created because the existing educational ecosystem excluded Black Americans. They thrived by building their own networks, creating their own opportunities, and supporting each other. The suggestion that HBCUs now need to partner with non-Black institutions to succeed represents a fundamental abandonment of the HBCU mission and the institutional circulation principle that should guide their operations.

Imagine if VUU had instead announced a partnership with a coalition of Black-owned real estate companies. The announcement might have read: “Virginia Union University is proud to announce a groundbreaking partnership with Black-owned real estate firms across Virginia marking the creation of the first Black Real Estate Hub on an HBCU campus. This collaboration goes beyond sponsorship to create career readiness, economic mobility, and wealth-building opportunities for VUU students, alumni, and the Richmond community through real estate education, entrepreneurship, and professional pathways led by successful Black business owners including HBCU alumni. Students will learn not just how to sell houses, but how to build generational wealth through development, investment, and institutional deal-making within the Black business ecosystem. They will receive training from firms like United Real Estate Richmond, Braden Real Estate Group, and other Black-owned companies, with pathways to internships and employment that keep talent and capital circulating within the African American community. The initiative will explicitly connect students with Black-owned banks for financing education, Black-owned title companies for transaction processing, and Black-owned development firms for career opportunities in the full spectrum of real estate activities.”

Such a partnership would demonstrate commitment to the Black business community, create mentorship pipelines between Black students and Black business leaders, build economic power by concentrating resources in Black-owned institutions, establish replicable models for other HBCUs to follow, and generate authentic wealth-building that actually closes gaps rather than widening them. It would teach students the most important lesson about wealth building: that institutional circulation of capital within your community is what creates lasting prosperity, not individual success stories that extract value from the community.

Beyond economics, these partnership decisions carry enormous social and political implications. When HBCUs choose non-Black partners, they signal to their students, alumni, and communities that Black-owned businesses are insufficient, unreliable, or less capable. This message has devastating ripple effects. Students at HBCUs should graduate believing they can build successful businesses that serve their communities and compete at the highest levels. They should see their institutions modeling the behavior they’re encouraged to adopt. Instead, they witness their own universities choosing non-Black partners, learning an implicit lesson about the supposed superiority of non-Black institutions. They learn that while individual Black consumers should support Black businesses, institutions don’t have to follow the same principle. This creates a fundamental contradiction that undermines the economic empowerment message entirely.

Consider the message VUU sends with its Keller Williams partnership: “We’ll teach you to be real estate professionals, but we don’t believe Black-owned real estate companies are good enough to partner with us.” What are students supposed to take from that? That they should aspire to work for Black-owned firms, or that they should aim for the “real” opportunities at non-Black companies? That Black businesses can compete at the highest levels, or that even Black institutions don’t really believe that? The implicit message is devastating, and it’s reinforced every time an HBCU makes a major partnership announcement with a non-Black firm when Black alternatives exist.

This dynamic also weakens the political capital of the Black business community. When even HBCUs won’t support Black-owned businesses, it becomes nearly impossible for these firms to argue they deserve a seat at the table for major contracts, government partnerships, or policy decisions. If historically Black institutions don’t believe Black businesses are capable of handling significant partnerships, why would predominantly white institutions, corporations, or government agencies think differently? HBCUs, by failing to partner with Black-owned institutions, actively undermine the credibility and viability of the very businesses that could drive wealth creation in African American communities.

The solution isn’t complicated, though it requires courage and commitment. HBCUs must conduct systematic audits of all major partnerships and vendor relationships to identify where Black-owned alternatives exist. They must establish procurement policies that prioritize Black-owned businesses when quality and capability are equivalent. They should create development programs to help emerging Black-owned businesses build the capacity to serve as HBCU partners. They need to build collaborative networks connecting HBCUs with Black-owned banks, real estate firms, construction companies, technology providers, and other businesses. They must measure and report on the percentage of institutional spending directed to Black-owned businesses, creating transparency and accountability. And they need to educate all stakeholders—boards, administrators, faculty, students, and alumni—about why these partnerships matter for wealth gap closure and why institutional circulation of capital is the key to building lasting economic power.

Some will argue this approach is discriminatory or inefficient. This objection ignores history and reality. HBCUs exist because discrimination created the need for separate Black institutions. Having addressed educational exclusion by building their own colleges, it’s logical and necessary to address economic exclusion by building supportive business ecosystems. The focus on institutional circulation isn’t about excluding others; it’s about finally including Black-owned institutions in the economic opportunities that Black institutions create. It’s about recognizing that the same principle we apply to individual consumer behavior of circulate dollars in your community applies with exponentially greater impact at the institutional level.

The choice facing HBCUs is stark: continue operating as isolated islands that happen to serve Black students, or become integral parts of a thriving African American institutional ecosystem that builds collective power and prosperity. Virginia Union University’s partnership with Keller Williams, like Alabama State University’s financial decisions before it, represents the island mentality. These institutions take Black talent, Black energy, and Black resources, then channel them into non-Black institutions that have no structural commitment to Black community wealth-building. They preach to students about supporting Black businesses while their own institutional dollars flow to non-Black partners.

The real estate development scenario described earlier where an HBCU alumnus-owned development firm works with Braden Real Estate Group, Answer Title, a Black-owned bank, and a Black-owned construction company isn’t a fantasy. All of these institutions exist right now. The only thing preventing this kind of institutional circulation from becoming the norm rather than the exception is the willingness of HBCUs to make it a priority. When HBCUs choose to partner with Black-owned institutions, they don’t just create individual transactions they validate and strengthen an entire ecosystem of Black-owned businesses that can then compete for even larger opportunities.

True wealth gap closure requires HBCUs to fundamentally reimagine their role. They must see themselves not as individual institutions competing for resources and prestige, but as anchor institutions responsible for building and sustaining a broader African American economic ecosystem. This means prioritizing partnerships with Black-owned banks, real estate companies, construction firms, technology providers, and other businesses even when doing so requires more effort, more creativity, or more patience. It means recognizing that institutional circulation of capital is what transforms individual Black success stories into generational Black wealth accumulation. It means understanding that HBCUs have the power to create the very ecosystem they claim doesn’t exist by directing their substantial institutional resources to Black-owned businesses.

The question isn’t whether Black-owned alternatives exist. They do. The question is whether HBCU leaders have the vision, courage, and commitment to build an economic ecosystem that actually closes the wealth gap rather than simply talking about it. Until HBCUs make this fundamental shift, until they recognize that institutional circulation of capital is the key to wealth building and start directing their partnerships, contracts, and spending to Black-owned institutions these announcements about “groundbreaking partnerships” that close the wealth gap will remain what they are today: well-intentioned rhetoric that masks the continued extraction of Black wealth and talent for the benefit of other communities.

Individual African Americans can only do so much with their consumer dollars. The six-hour circulation rate in Black communities is a problem, but it’s a problem that individual behavior alone cannot solve. The real power lies at the institutional level. When an HBCU spends $10 million on a construction project with a Black-owned firm, that’s not the equivalent of 10,000 individual consumers each spending $1,000—it’s exponentially more powerful because institutional spending validates capacity, builds track records, creates jobs at scale, and proves viability in ways that individual transactions never can. But HBCUs, with their millions in institutional spending power, their influence over thousands of students and alumni, and their role as anchor institutions in Black communities, have the power to transform the economic landscape. They just need to recognize that the principle of dollar circulation they teach their students applies with even greater force to their own institutional behavior.

Until HBCUs start practicing institutional circulation of capital, until they recognize that every major partnership, every significant contract, and every spending decision is an opportunity to strengthen Black-owned institutions and build the ecosystem necessary for true wealth creation they will continue to be part of the problem rather than the solution to the wealth gap they claim to want to close. The infrastructure exists. The capable Black-owned businesses exist. The only thing missing is the institutional will to make Black economic ecosystem-building a priority over convenience, familiarity, or the perceived prestige of partnering with established non-Black firms. The choice is clear: HBCUs can continue channeling Black talent and capital out of the community, or they can finally commit to the institutional circulation that makes wealth gap closure actually possible.

Disclaimer: This article was assisted by ClaudeAI.

Leave a comment

Posted in Real Estate

Tagged African American economic ecosystem, alabama state university, Black business ecosystem, Black economic circulation, Black institutional economics, black wealth building, Black-Owned Businesses, Black-owned real estate, community wealth building, economic empowerment, HBCU alumni entrepreneurs, HBCU economic development, HBCU partnerships, HBCU procurement, HBCU vendor relationships, institutional circulation, institutional spending power, keller williams, racial wealth gap, virginia union university, wealth gap

You Want a Bigger HBCU Endowment? Graduate Students in Four Years—and HBCU Alumni Must Make That Happen

Posted on January 16, 2026 by hbcumoney | Leave a comment

The four-year graduation rate is often presented as a benign statistic tucked inside higher education reports, but for institutions serving African America, it is not benign at all. It is the lever on which long-term wealth, institutional survival, and multigenerational stability subtly depend. Wealthy universities treat the four-year graduation rate not as an outcome but as an engineered product, backed by endowment might, operational discipline, and capital-rich ecosystems. Their students finish on time because the institution ensures they are shielded from interruption. Meanwhile, HBCUs navigate a different reality: the same students who possess the intellectual capacity to thrive are too often delayed not by academics but by the economic turbulence that disproportionately defines their journey. It is here between the idea of talent and the machinery of capital that the four-year graduation rate becomes a revealing measure of African America’s structural position in the American economic hierarchy.

A delayed degree carries a cost structure that compounds aggressively. Extra semesters are not simply tuition bills; they are opportunity-cost accelerants. A student who graduates at 22 enters the workforce two to three years ahead of a peer who reaches the finish line at 24 or 25. Those early earnings fund retirement accounts earlier, compound longer, support earlier homeownership, and create the financial runway that future philanthropy relies upon. For African American students who statistically begin college with fewer financial reserves and exit with higher student debt those lost years are wealth years. They represent not only diminished individual prosperity but the slowed creation of a donor class that HBCUs and other African American institutions depend on to build endowment strength and institutional sovereignty.

Endowments, which serve as the economic lungs of a university, breathe differently depending on how quickly their alumni progress into stable earning years. A university that graduates students in four years rather than six gains an alumni base that stabilizes earlier, saves earlier, invests earlier, and gives earlier. A philanthropic ecosystem is essentially a long-term consequence of time management: the more years an alumnus spends debt-free and employed, the more predictable their giving pattern becomes. Elite institutions leverage this fact elegantly. HBCUs, despite producing extraordinary alumni under significantly harsher financial conditions, remain constrained by the delayed timelines imposed by student financial fragility.

Financial fragility is a central explanatory variable in the HBCU graduation gap. It is not uncommon for a student to miss a semester because of a $300 balance or a transportation breakdown that derails their schedule. In the broader American economic system, such modest shocks rarely jeopardize a wealthy student’s trajectory. But within the HBCU ecosystem, they represent the sharp edges of institutional undercapitalization meeting the exposed nerves of household vulnerability. The four-year graduation rate is therefore not simply a metric of academic navigation but a map of where the Black household economy intersects with American higher education’s structural inequities.

This makes alumni involvement not a sentimental tradition but an economic necessity. Alumni can narrow the financial fragility gap more efficiently than any other stakeholder group. Microgrant funds, even modestly capitalized, are capable of eliminating the most common disruptions that extend time-to-degree. A $250 emergency grant can protect $25,000 in long-term student debt. A $500 intervention can guard a student’s four-year trajectory and thus preserve two additional years of post-graduation earnings that ultimately benefit both the graduate and the institution’s future endowment. Alumni-funded tutoring, advising enhancements, STEM support programmes, and paid internships create artificial endowment-like effects: stabilizing student progression even when the institutional endowment itself is undersized.

Yet HBCU alumni cannot focus solely on the university years if the goal is a structurally higher four-year graduation rate. The process begins far earlier within K–12 systems that shape academic readiness long before students set foot on campus. The elite institutions that boast 85–95 percent on-time graduation rates are drawing from K–12 ecosystems with intense capital saturation: high-quality teachers, advanced coursework, stable households, well-funded enrichment programmes, and neighborhoods that function as multipliers of academic preparedness. HBCU alumni have an opportunity to influence this pipeline through investments that are often modest in individual scope but transformational in aggregate impact. Funding reading centres, coding clubs, college-prep academies, robotics labs, literacy coaches, and after-school tutoring programmes plants the seeds of future four-year graduates years before college entry.

Indeed, a strong K–12 foundation reduces the need for remedial coursework, accelerates major declaration, strengthens performance in gateway courses like calculus and biology, and diminishes the likelihood that students need extra semesters to satisfy graduation requirements. When alumni support dual-enrollment initiatives, sponsor early-college programmes, or build partnerships between HBCUs and local school districts, they enlarge the pool of college-ready students whose likelihood of completing on time is structurally higher. In this sense, investing in K–12 is not philanthropy it is pre-endowment development.

The economic implications of strengthening both ends of the education pipeline are enormous. A 20–30 percentage-point improvement in four-year completion rates across the HBCU ecosystem would reduce student loan debt burdens by billions, accelerate African American household wealth accumulation, raise the number of alumni earning six-figure incomes before age 30, and increase the philanthropic participation rate across Black institutions. Over decades, such shifts ripple outward: stronger alumni lead to stronger HBCUs, which lead to stronger civic, cultural, and economic institutions in African American communities, which themselves create more stable families, more prepared K–12 students, and more future college graduates. The system feeds itself when time is efficiently managed.

In the HBCU Money worldview, where institutional power is the only reliable safeguard against structural marginalization, time-to-degree represents one of the clearest and most overlooked levers of collective economic advancement. In a Financial Times context, the four-year graduation rate appears as a liquidity indicator—showing how quickly an institution converts educational investment into economic output. In The Economist’s framing, it reveals the mismatched capital structures between wealthy universities and historically underfunded ones, and how those mismatches reproduce inequality in slow, quiet, compounding increments.

For African America, the conclusion is unmistakable. The four-year graduation rate is not merely a statistic. It is a wealth mechanism. It is an endowment accelerator. It is an institutional survival tool. And it is a community-level economic strategy that begins in kindergarten and culminates with a diploma. If HBCU alumni wish to see their institutions strengthen, their communities accumulate wealth, and their young people enter the economy with maximum velocity, then they must make both K–12 investment and four-year graduation obsession-level priorities. Institutions rise with the financial stability of their graduates. Ensuring those graduates complete degrees on time is one of the most effective—and least discussed—strategies available for building African American institutional power across generations.

A Tale of Two Virginias:

A revealing contrast in American higher education can be observed by examining two institutions that sit just 120 miles apart: Virginia State University (VSU) and the University of Virginia (UVA). NACUBO estimates VSU’s endowment at approximately $100 million for around 5,000 students, producing an endowment-per-student of roughly $20,000. According to U.S. News, VSU graduates 27% of its students in four years. UVA, one of the most heavily capitalized public universities in the world, possesses an endowment of roughly $10.2 billion for about 25,000 students, an endowment-per-student of approximately $410,000, more than twenty times the capital density VSU can deploy. Its four-year graduation rate stands at 92%.

The gulf between the two institutions reflects not a difference in student talent but a difference in institutional resource density and shock absorption capacity. A VSU student must personally carry far more academic and financial fragility. A single $300 expense can knock them off their semester plan. A delayed prerequisite can add a year to their degree. Limited advising bandwidth means problems are often discovered only after they have already extended time-to-degree. UVA faces the same categories of issues, but its endowment, staffing, and operating budgets act as buffers absorbing shocks before they disrupt academic progress.

Endowment-per-student, therefore, is not merely a balance-sheet statistic; it is a proxy for how much risk the institution can carry on behalf of its students. UVA carries most of the risk. VSU students carry most of their own. UVA’s 92% four-year graduation rate is a reflection of institutional cushioning. VSU’s 27% rate reflects its absence.

Yet to understand the true economic cost of the graduation gap, it is useful to model what would happen if VSU improved its four-year graduation rate—first to a plausible mid-term target such as 50%, and then to a UVA-like 90%. Both scenarios dramatically change the trajectory of the institution.

Assume that VSU today produces roughly 1,350 graduates every four years (based on a 27% rate). If it increased its four-year graduation rate to 50%, VSU would instead graduate 2,500 students every four years, an increase of 1,150 additional on-time graduates, each entering the workforce two years earlier, with lower student debt, earlier retirement contributions, earlier homeownership, and earlier philanthropic capacity. Even if only a modest fraction of these additional graduates contributed $50–$150 annually to VSU’s endowment, the compounding effect across 20 years would be substantial. Under conservative assumptions with basic donor participation growth and average returns of 7% VSU’s endowment could plausibly grow from $100 million to $155–$170 million over two decades, powered largely by the increased velocity and increased number of earning alumni.

Now consider the UVA-like scenario. A four-year graduation rate of 90% at VSU would mean roughly 4,500 on-time graduates every four years or over three times the current output. This scale of early, debt-lighter graduates would fundamentally transform VSU’s financial ecosystem. Even minimal alumni participation say, 12–15% giving $100–$200 annually would translate into millions in annual recurring contributions. Over two decades, with investment returns compounding, VSU’s endowment could grow not to $150 million but potentially to $300–$400 million, depending on participation rates and gift sizes. That would triple the institution’s financial capacity without a single major donor campaign, capital campaign, or extraordinary windfall. The key variable is simply graduation velocity.

This comparison illustrates a broader truth: endowment growth is not just a function of investment strategy but of how quickly a university converts students into earning alumni. A student who graduates at 22 gives for 40–50 years. A student who graduates at 25 gives for 30–35 years. A student who drops out does not give at all. VSU’s current 27% four-year graduation rate is not merely an academic statistic—it is an endowment drag factor. UVA’s 92% rate is an endowment accelerant.

The financial distance between the two universities appears vast, but it is governed by a formula that HBCUs can influence: more on-time graduates → more early earners → more consistent donors → more endowment growth → more institutional cushioning → more on-time graduates. VSU today sits at the fragile end of this cycle. A graduation-rate increase to 50% would move it into a position of stability. A leap to 90% would place it into an entirely different institutional category—one where it begins to accumulate capital in the same compounding manner that allows institutions like UVA to weather downturns, attract top faculty, and protect students from the shocks that so often derail academic momentum.

VSU cannot replicate UVA’s wealth in the short term. But by increasing on-time graduation, it can replicate the mechanism through which wealthy universities become wealthier. And that mechanism—graduation velocity—is one of the few levers fully within reach of alumni, leadership, and institutional partners.

Here are four strategic, high-impact actions HBCU alumni associations or chapters can take to directly raise four-year graduation rates and strengthen institutional wealth:

1. Create a Permanent Emergency Microgrant Fund (The “$300 Fund”)

Most delays in graduation arise from small financial shocks:
balances under $500, transportation failures, book costs, or housing gaps.

Alumni chapters can formalize a permanent, locally governed microgrant fund offering rapid-response support (48–72 hours).

A chapter raising just $25,000 per year can prevent dozens of delays, each shielding students from additional semesters of debt and protecting the institution’s future alumni giving pipeline.

This is low-cost, high-yield institutional intervention.

2. Fund Paid Internships and Alumni-Mentored Work Opportunities

Students who work long hours off campus are more likely to fall behind academically, switch majors repeatedly, or extend enrollment.

Alumni chapters can create paid internships, stipends, or alumni-hosted part-time roles tied directly to students’ majors.

Each position:

reduces the student’s financial burden
keeps them academically aligned
accelerates pathways to stable post-graduate employment

This lifts graduation rates and increases alumni earnings—expanding the future donor base.

3. Build K–12 Pipelines in Local Cities That Feed Directly Into HBCUs

Four-year graduation begins long before freshman year.

Alumni chapters can adopt 2–3 local schools and support:

literacy acceleration programs
SAT/ACT prep
dual enrollment partnerships
STEM and robotics clubs
early-college summer institutes hosted by their own HBCUs

Better-prepared students require fewer remedial courses, retain majors longer, and graduate on schedule, raising institutional performance and future endowment sustainability.

This is pre-investment in the future alumni base.

4. Pay for Summer Courses After Freshmen Year to Build Early Credit Momentum

After their first year, many students fall off the four-year pace due to light credit loads, failed gateway courses, or sequencing issues that a single summer class could easily correct. Yet for many HBCU students, summer tuition—often just one or two courses—is financially out of reach.

Alumni chapters can establish a Freshman Summer Acceleration Grant to pay for up to two summer course immediately after freshman year, allowing students to:

close early credit gaps,

retake or accelerate critical prerequisites,

reduce future semester overloads,

create a credit cushion for unexpected disruptions,

stay aligned with four-year degree maps.

A small investment of summer tuition produces an outsized institutional return: students enter sophomore year on pace, avoid bottlenecks in upper-level coursework, and dramatically increase their likelihood of graduating in four years. This is an early-stage compounding effect—protecting momentum before delays become expensive and permanent.

Disclaimer: This article was assisted by ChatGPT.

Leave a comment

Posted in Philanthropy

Tagged african american education, Black institutional power, black wealth building, college completion rates, endowment growth strategies, four-year graduation rate, graduation rate improvement, HBCU alumni associations, HBCU alumni giving, hbcu endowments, HBCU financial stability, HBCU graduation rates, HBCU investment strategies, HBCU Money analysis, HBCU student success, HBCU student support, higher education economics, institutional wealth gap, K–12 pipeline development, reducing student debt

Consumer Credit Now Rivals Mortgage Debt in African American Households

Posted on December 23, 2025 by hbcumoney | Leave a comment

First our pleasures die – and then our hopes, and then our fears – and when these are dead, the debt is due dust claims dust – and we die too. – Percy Bysshe Shelley

African American household assets reached $7.1 trillion in 2024, a half-trillion-dollar increase that might appear encouraging at first glance. Yet beneath this headline figure lies a structural vulnerability that threatens to undermine decades of hard-won economic progress: consumer credit has surged to $740 billion, now representing nearly half of all African American household debt and approaching parity with home mortgage obligations of $780 billion. In the world of good debt versus bad debt, African America’s bad debt is rapidly choking the economic life away.

This near 1:1 ratio between consumer credit and mortgage debt represents a fundamental inversion of healthy household finance. For white households, the ratio stands at approximately 3:1 in favor of mortgage debt over consumer credit. Hispanic households maintain a similar 3:1 ratio, as do households classified as “Other” in Federal Reserve data. The African American community stands alone in this precarious position, where high-interest, unsecured borrowing rivals the debt secured by appreciating assets.

The implications of this structural imbalance extend far beyond mere statistics. They reveal a community increasingly dependent on expensive credit to maintain living standards, even as asset values nominally rise. Consumer credit grew by 10.4% in 2024, more than double the 4.0% growth in mortgage debt and far exceeding the overall asset appreciation rate. This divergence suggests that rising property values and retirement account balances are not translating into improved financial flexibility. Instead, African American households appear to be running faster merely to stay in place, accumulating debt at an accelerating pace despite wealth gains elsewhere on their balance sheets.

What makes this dynamic particularly insidious is the extractive nature of the debt itself. With African American-owned banks holding just $6.4 billion in combined assets, a figure that has grown modestly from $5.9 billion in 2023, the overwhelming majority of the $1.55 trillion in African American household liabilities flows to institutions outside the community. This represents one of the most significant, yet least discussed, mechanisms of wealth extraction from African America.

Consider the arithmetic: if even a conservative estimate suggests that 95% of African American debt is held by non-Black institutions, and if that debt carries an average interest rate of 8% (likely conservative given the prevalence of credit card debt and auto loans), then African American households are transferring approximately $120 billion annually in interest payments to institutions with no vested interest in Black wealth creation or community reinvestment.

For context, the entire asset base of African American-owned banks—$6.4 billion—represents less than one month’s worth of these interest payments. The disparity is staggering. According to the FDIC’s Minority Depository Institution program, Asian American banks lead with $174 billion in assets, while Hispanic American banks hold $138 billion. African American banking institutions, despite serving a population with $7.1 trillion in household assets (yielding approximately $5.6 trillion in net wealth after liabilities), control less than 0.1% of that wealth through their balance sheets.

This extraction mechanism operates at multiple levels. First, there is the direct transfer of interest payments from Black borrowers to predominantly white-owned financial institutions. Second, there is the opportunity cost: capital that could be intermediated through Black-owned institutions creating deposits, enabling local lending, building institutional capacity but instead enriches institutions that have historically redlined Black communities and continue to deny Black borrowers and business owners at disproportionate rates.

Third, and perhaps most pernicious, is the feedback loop this creates. Without sufficient capital flow through Black-owned institutions, these banks lack the resources to compete effectively for deposits, to invest in technology and branch networks, to attract top talent, or to take on the larger commercial loans that could finance transformative community development projects. They remain, in effect, trapped in a low-equilibrium state unable to scale precisely because they lack access to the very capital that their community generates.

The near-parity between consumer credit and mortgage debt in African American households signals a fundamental divergence from the wealth-building model that has enriched other communities for generations. Mortgage debt, despite its costs, serves as a mechanism for forced savings and wealth accumulation. As homeowners make payments, they build equity in an asset that typically appreciates over time. The debt is secured by a tangible asset, carries relatively low interest rates, and benefits from tax advantages.

Consumer credit operates on precisely the opposite logic. It finances consumption rather than investment, carries interest rates that can exceed 20% on credit cards, builds no equity, and offers no tax benefits. When consumer credit approaches the scale of mortgage debt, it suggests a household finance structure tilted toward consumption smoothing rather than wealth building—using expensive borrowing to maintain living standards in the face of inadequate income growth.

The data from HBCU Money’s 2024 African America Annual Wealth Report confirms this interpretation. While African American real estate assets totaled $2.24 trillion, growing by just 4.3%, consumer credit surged by 10.4%. This divergence suggests that home equity, the traditional engine of African American wealth building, is being offset by the accumulation of high-cost consumer debt.

More troubling still, the concentration of African American wealth in illiquid assets with real estate and retirement accounts comprising nearly 60% of total holdings limits the ability to weather financial shocks without resorting to consumer credit. Unlike households with significant liquid assets or equity portfolios that can be tapped through margin loans at lower rates, African American households facing unexpected expenses must often turn to credit cards, personal loans, or other high-cost borrowing.

This creates a wealth-to-liquidity trap: substantial assets on paper, but insufficient liquid resources to manage volatility without accumulating expensive debt. The modest representation of corporate equities and mutual funds at just $330 billion, or 4.7% of African American assets means that most Black wealth is locked in homes and retirement accounts that cannot easily be accessed for emergency expenses, business investments, or wealth transfer to the next generation.

The underdevelopment of African American banking institutions represents both a cause and consequence of this debt crisis. With combined assets of just $6.4 billion, Black-owned banks lack the scale to compete effectively for deposits, to offer competitive loan products, or to finance the larger commercial and real estate projects that could drive community wealth creation.

To understand why bank assets matter for addressing household debt, one must grasp a fundamental principle of banking: a bank’s assets are largely composed of the loans it has extended. When a bank reports $1 billion in assets, the majority represents money lent to households and businesses in the form of mortgages, business loans, and lines of credit. These loans are assets to the bank because they generate interest income and (ideally) will be repaid. Conversely, the deposits that customers place in banks appear as liabilities on the bank’s balance sheet, because the bank owes that money back to depositors.

This means that when African American-owned banks hold just $6.4 billion in assets, they have extended roughly $6.4 billion in loans to their communities. By contrast, African American households carry $1.55 trillion in debt. The arithmetic is stark: Black-owned institutions are originating less than 0.5% of the debt carried by Black households. The remaining 99.5% or approximately $1.54 trillion flows to non-Black institutions, carrying interest payments and fees with it. If Black-owned banks held even 10% of African American household debt as assets, they would control over $155 billion in lending capacity more than twenty times their current scale creating a powerful engine for wealth recirculation and community reinvestment.

The exclusion from consumer credit is even more complete than these figures suggest. There are no African American-owned credit card companies, and most African American financial institutions lack the scale and infrastructure to issue Visa, MasterCard, or other branded credit cards through their own institutions. When Black consumers carry $740 billion in consumer credit much of it on credit cards charging 18% to 25% interest virtually none of that debt flows through Black-owned institutions. Every swipe, every interest payment, every late fee enriches the handful of large banks and card issuers that dominate the consumer credit market. This represents the most direct and lucrative form of wealth extraction: high-margin, unsecured lending with minimal default risk due to aggressive collection practices, all flowing entirely outside the Black banking ecosystem.

By comparison, a single large regional bank might hold $50 billion or more in assets. The entire African American banking sector commands resources equivalent to roughly one-eighth of one large institution. This scale disadvantage manifests in multiple ways: higher operating costs as a percentage of assets, limited ability to diversify risk, reduced capacity to invest in technology and marketing, and difficulty attracting deposits in an era when consumers increasingly prioritize digital capabilities and nationwide ATM access.

The decrease of Black-owned banks has accelerated these challenges. The number of African American-owned banks has declined from 48 in 2001 to just 18 today, even as the combined assets have grown from $5 billion to $6.4 billion. This suggests that the survivors have achieved modest scale gains, but the overall institutional capacity of the sector has contracted significantly. Each closure represents not just a loss of financial services, but a loss of community knowledge, relationship banking, and the cultural competence that enables Black-owned institutions to serve their communities effectively.

The credit union sector presents a more substantial but still constrained picture. Approximately 205 African American credit unions operate nationwide, holding $8.2 billion in combined assets and serving 727,000 members. While this represents meaningful scale more than the $6.4 billion held by African American banks the distribution reveals deep fragmentation. The average credit union holds $40 million in assets with 3,500 members, but the median tells a more sobering story: just $2.5 million in assets serving 618 members. This means the majority of African American credit unions operate at scales too small to offer competitive products, invest in digital banking infrastructure, or provide the full range of services that members need. Many church-based credit unions, while serving vital community functions for congregations often underserved by traditional banks, hold assets under $500,000. The member-owned structure of credit unions, while fostering community engagement and democratic governance, also constrains their ability to raise capital through equity markets, leaving them dependent on retained earnings and member deposits for growth, a particular challenge when serving communities with limited surplus capital.

This institutional deficit has profound implications for the debt crisis. Without strong Black-owned financial institutions, African American borrowers must rely on financial institutions owned by other communities that often offer less favorable terms. Research consistently shows that Black borrowers face higher denial rates, pay higher interest rates, and receive less favorable terms than similarly situated white borrowers. A 2025 LendingTree analysis of Home Mortgage Disclosure Act data found that Black borrowers faced a mortgage denial rate of 19% compared to 11.27% for all applicants making them 1.7 times more likely to be denied. Black-owned small businesses received full funding in just 38% of cases, compared with 62% for white-owned firms.

These disparities push African American households and businesses toward more expensive credit alternatives. Unable to access conventional mortgages, they turn to FHA loans with higher insurance premiums. Denied bank credit, they turn to credit cards and personal loans with double-digit interest rates. Lacking access to business lines of credit, entrepreneurs tap home equity or personal savings, increasing their financial vulnerability.

The absence of robust Black-owned institutions also deprives the community of an important competitive force. Where Black-owned banks operate, they create pressure on other institutions to serve Black customers more fairly. Their presence signals that discriminatory practices will drive customers to alternatives, creating at least some market discipline. Where they are absent or weak, that discipline evaporates.

Corporate DEI programs that once channeled deposits to Black-owned banks have been largely eliminated. The current federal political environment is openly hostile to African American advancement, with programs like the Treasury Department’s Emergency Capital Investment Program facing uncertain futures. External support structures are collapsing precisely when they are most needed, leaving African American institutions and individuals as the primary actors in their own financial liberation, a task made exponentially more difficult by the very extraction mechanisms this analysis has documented.

The near-parity between consumer credit and mortgage debt in African American households is not a reflection of poor financial decision-making or cultural deficiency. It is the predictable outcome of structural inequalities that have limited income growth, constrained access to affordable credit, concentrated wealth in illiquid assets, and prevented the development of financial institutions capable of serving the Black community effectively.

The comparison with other racial and ethnic groups is instructive. White, Hispanic, and other households all maintain mortgage-to-consumer-credit ratios of approximately 3:1 or better. They achieve this not because of superior financial acumen, but because they benefit from higher incomes, greater intergenerational wealth transfers, better access to credit markets, and stronger financial institutions serving their communities.

African American households, by contrast, face headwinds at every turn. Median Black household income remains roughly 60% of median white household income. The racial wealth gap, at approximately 10:1, ensures that Black families receive less financial support from parents and grandparents. Discrimination in credit markets, though illegal, persists in subtle and not-so-subtle forms. And the institutional infrastructure that might counterbalance these disadvantages from Black-owned banks, investment firms, insurance companies remains underdeveloped and undercapitalized.

The result is a community that has achieved a nominal wealth of $5.5 trillion, yet finds that wealth increasingly built on a foundation of expensive debt rather than appreciating assets and productive capital. The $740 billion in consumer credit represents not just a financial liability, but a transfer mechanism that annually extracts tens of billions of dollars from the Black community and redirects it to predominantly white-owned financial institutions.

Breaking this pattern will require more than incremental change. It will require a fundamental restructuring of how capital flows through the African American community, how financial institutions serving that community are capitalized and regulated, and how wealth is built and transferred across generations. The alternative of continuing on the current trajectory is a future in which African American households accumulate assets while simultaneously accumulating debt, running faster while falling further behind, building wealth that proves as ephemeral as the credit that increasingly finances it.

The data from HBCU Money’s 2024 African America Annual Wealth Report provides both a warning and an opportunity. The warning is clear: the current path is unsustainable, with consumer credit growing at more than double the rate of asset appreciation and institutional capacity remaining stagnant. The opportunity is equally clear: with $5.5 trillion in household wealth, the African American community possesses the resources necessary to build the financial institutions and wealth-building structures that could transform debt into equity, consumption into investment, and extraction into accumulation.

The question is whether the community, and the nation, will recognize the urgency of this moment and take the bold action necessary to recirculate capital, rebuild institutions, and restructure household finance before the debt trap closes entirely. The answer to that question will determine not just the financial trajectory of African American households, but the capacity of African America rise in power and to address the racial wealth gap that remains its most persistent economic failure.

Disclaimer: This article was assisted by ClaudeAI.

Leave a comment

Posted in Economics

Tagged African American asset accumulation, African American consumer credit, African American debt crisis, african american financial institutions, Black banking sector, black credit unions, Black household wealth 2024, black wealth building, Black-owned banks, community banking crisis, consumer credit disparity, financial inclusion disparities, household debt analysis, Minority Depository Institutions, mortgage to debt ratio, predatory lending practices, racial economic inequality, racial wealth gap, systemic wealth inequality, wealth extraction mechanisms

Tag Archives: black wealth building

Russell Wilson and Ciara Wilson: The Quiet Matchmakers Reshaping Black Love and Its Implications for African American Institutions

Teaching the Next Generation: A Guide to Empowering African American Youth Through Strategic Philanthropy

Starting Early: Philanthropy for Elementary Ages (5-10)

Middle School: Understanding Institutional Building (11-13)

High School: Strategic Power Building (14-18)

Virginia Union University’s Keller Williams Partnership Exposes HBCU’s Fundamental Misunderstanding of Wealth Building

You Want a Bigger HBCU Endowment? Graduate Students in Four Years—and HBCU Alumni Must Make That Happen

1. Create a Permanent Emergency Microgrant Fund (The “$300 Fund”)

2. Fund Paid Internships and Alumni-Mentored Work Opportunities

3. Build K–12 Pipelines in Local Cities That Feed Directly Into HBCUs

4. Pay for Summer Courses After Freshmen Year to Build Early Credit Momentum

Consumer Credit Now Rivals Mortgage Debt in African American Households

Recent Posts

Archives

Categories

Meta