In today’s world, it’s not just outsiders who keep Black communities divided — it’s often people who look just like us. The division doesn’t always come in the form of racism from the outside. Sometimes, it comes through the voices of those who claim to be telling the truth “for the culture,” but in reality, they’re just playing a role that benefits them, and leaves the rest of us stuck in the same place.
On one side, we have what I’ll call the Black Rednecks. They dress the part, say the “real” things, and rack up likes for dragging other Black people online. They call it tough love. They claim to be the voice of reason. But when you step back and ask, “What solutions do they actually offer?” the answer is often — none. Their logic is loud, but shallow. And more often than not, their audience isn’t even us — it’s people looking for a Black voice to validate their own bias.
A perfect example is a recent viral video featuring a Black social media influencer, Wallo. Standing in front of a crowd, he said that Black people shouldn’t support Black businesses just because they’re Black. Now, let’s pause. What self-respecting Jewish person would say, “Don’t support a Jewish business just because it’s Jewish”? What self-respecting Asian person would say that in public about Asian businesses? They wouldn’t because they understand the value of group economics. But too often in our culture, we give the microphone to people who preach detachment from our own, while other groups are building with theirs. That’s not logic. That’s internalized division dressed up as “real talk.”
On the other side, we have the Black elite — highly educated, well-spoken, and often applauded in white academic or media spaces. Their arguments are deep, their credentials are impressive, and their essays win awards. But for the average Black person working a 9-to-5, trying to raise a family, start a business, or escape generational poverty, their words often feel distant. They talk about policy and theory, but rarely offer a plan rooted in practical outcomes.
Even more troubling is how often today’s visible Black leaders advocate for policies that serve their access and image, not the real needs of the community. Take Al Sharpton. I know him personally and respect his legacy, but I have to ask: Why is he still promoting DEI programs when the data clearly shows that Black Americans benefited the least? These are the same elite voices who were outraged when Trump mentioned “Black Jobs,” yet now they’re sitting in private meetings with Target, Walmart, and Pepsi — not demanding ownership, not pushing for real economic power, but negotiating for DEI positions with limited influence. And let’s be honest — Pepsi, with its sugary drinks and processed products, has been a major contributor to the chronic health crisis in Black America. From diabetes to hypertension, their business has come at the expense of our wellness. Yet these same leaders aren’t holding them accountable. Why? Is it because they rely on their sponsorships? Are health and wellness no longer part of the justice conversation if it risks corporate relationships? Because what’s happening now isn’t empowerment — it’s performance. And it’s costing us both economically and physically.
And when it comes to reparations — the issue that directly addresses the generational theft, trauma, and state-sanctioned violence done to Black people — both sides are silent or complicit. The Black Rednecks openly dismiss it, arguing that we don’t need reparations, or worse, that slavery was somehow just “part of history” and we should move on. Imagine that — people who look like us defending the theft of free labor, the impact of Jim Crow, redlining, racist legislation, and generations of government-backed brutality — just to sound “independent.” Meanwhile, the Black elite are too scared to champion reparations publicly, worried they’ll lose sponsorships, media access, or political favor if they stand firm on what is morally and economically justified. When the loudest voices in our community deny justice or are too scared to demand it, we’re left with no voice.
Even more troubling, neither side is offering a serious economic agenda for Black people. The side that claims to represent advancement and awareness has no organized plan for economic empowerment — no cooperative blueprint, no institutional ownership strategy, nothing to move us from dependency to self-determination. Meanwhile, the other side mocks the very idea that we need one. They act as if cooperative economics is unnecessary or outdated, while every other ethnic group in America — from Jewish communities to Asian enclaves, even the white conservatives they often align themselves with — practice some form of group economics. We’re the only group being told to build alone, consume blindly, and never ask where the money is going.
So here we are — caught between the Black Rednecks who’s arguing for views and the Black elites who’s speaking in codes.
Meanwhile, real issues in our community go unaddressed. Homeownership is declining. The school system is failing black boys. Families are struggling to keep up with the cost of living. And we’re still fighting for basic resources in cities we’ve lived in for generations. The people with the biggest platforms are often the least invested in fixing any of it.
Worse, these two extremes often spend more time attacking each other than addressing the real problems. And while they fight over who’s more “real” or who’s more “educated,” our neighborhoods, schools, and futures are being left behind.
It’s time we stopped choosing between personalities and started focusing on results. Who is building something? Who is creating opportunity? Who is organizing policy, ownership, and access? Who is challenging power—not just shouting into the void?
We don’t need more viral soundbites. We need clear thinking, long-term plans, and people committed to outcomes, not attention.
If you claim to speak for the community, your work should be measured by what changes for the people — not how many followers you have or who claps for your message.
We’ve wasted enough time arguing about who’s “keeping it real.” Now it’s time to ask: Who’s actually making a difference?
Because until we do, we’ll stay divided — not by skin color, but by distraction.
