Donald Trump’s first 100 days back in office didn’t bring disaster or deliverance for Black America — they brought clarity. The federal government has made its position known: it’s stepping back. That’s not a betrayal. That’s a release.
This administration is governing by executive order — 142 signed in just over three months. But instead of building national systems of support, Trump is returning power to the states. That shift comes with consequences. If Black communities are not engaged in local elections, school boards, budget hearings, and state legislatures, we will not be ignored — we will be irrelevant. The federal government is no longer managing the weight. If we don’t carry it locally, we will be crushed by our own political absence.
The executive order repositioning the HBCU Initiative under the Executive Office of the President signaled symbolic respect — but provided no guaranteed funding. It opened a door to private-sector partnerships, but not a single dollar of direct federal investment. In this new model, access is not equity — it’s competition. And in a competitive environment, Black institutions are forced to do more with less, again.
Read: Promises vs. Outcomes: What Trump’s Executive Order for HBCUs Mean for Black America
Trump’s AI education order promises to prepare youth for the future economy, but implementation is left to the states. It is now up to school boards and governors to decide who receives AI training, updated infrastructure, and vocational pathways. If we are not organizing at the local level, the future will be programmed — and our children won’t be in the code.
DEI is gone, but the data says it never delivered structural economic power anyway. It filled panels, not pipelines. The dismantling of DEI didn’t reverse our progress — it exposed how little measurable progress had been made. What we build now must be rooted in ownership, not optics.
Read: Where Are Black Leaders as America Rebuilds Its Workforce
Trump’s tax agenda adds another layer of urgency. His administration is proposing the elimination of the IRS and a 28% national consumption tax to replace income taxes. That means your spending — not your earnings — will be taxed. For a community deeply entrenched in consumer behavior and luxury branding, that’s a financial trap. The more we spend, the more we bleed. In this model, the poor subsidize the rich, and the undisciplined subsidize the producers. If Black America doesn’t learn financial control and long-term asset management, we will fall behind — not because of oppression, but because of undisciplined habits.
These tariffs have also exposed a painful truth: the luxury goods so many in our community idolize — the high-end brands we associate with wealth and success — are not made in Paris or Italy. They’re made in China. The same supply chains used for fast fashion are producing the status symbols we overpay for, driven by marketing, not quality. We’re not buying culture — we’re funding corporations. We’re not investing — we’re impersonating wealth while owning nothing.
Read: China’s Tariff Suspension: Why It Means Little for Black America
In the midst of these shifts, one executive action stands out with long-term implications: the new national health initiative announced by HHS Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr.. The administration has launched a sweeping review of chronic illness, nutrition, pharmaceutical conflicts of interest, and vaccine safety. The initiative seeks to investigate the causes behind America’s skyrocketing rates of diabetes, obesity, infertility, and autoimmune diseases — and how food systems, corporate lobbying, and health policy failures contribute to it.
This is where Black America must pay close attention. We lead the country in preventable chronic illnesses, yet we are often the last to receive clean food access, preventive care, or medical autonomy. If RFK Jr. follows through on this initiative, it will challenge industries that have profited off our poor health. But it won’t matter if we’re not demanding better food in our schools, challenging local health board policies, and building our own wellness ecosystems. Just like education and the economy, health freedom is now decentralized — and our outcomes will depend on whether we organize around it.
Trump’s first 100 days didn’t destroy Black America — but they ended the illusion that federal power will be used to protect us. That burden — and opportunity — has shifted. Power is going local. And if we don’t respond with precision, we’ll fall not because we were targeted, but because we were unprepared.
Pharaoh has let us go. But we can’t keep worshiping the institutions of Egypt — institutions that sold us junk food, fake luxury, broken promises, and slogans in place of substance. We need a complete pivot.
Read: Black Dollars, White Wealth: Why Our Spending Power Isn’t Building Our Future
We must become producers: of goods, services, education, food, health, and leadership. I know it’s hard for some to imagine Black people farming again or returning to work with our hands. We’ve become so educated, so elite-minded, that we’ve disconnected ourselves from the very labor and skills that build real institutions. But ownership doesn’t begin in the boardroom — it starts in the field, in the shop, in the classroom, and in the voting booth. That means owning the farms, teaching the trades, writing the curriculum, and controlling the distribution. It means running for office where decisions are made — not just protesting after they’re made. Real power isn’t just spoken — it’s produced.
We don’t need inclusion. We need infrastructure. We don’t need to be seen. We need to be sovereign. And we don’t need to wait. We need to build — now.
Let the record show: Pharaoh has let us go.
The only question is whether we will walk forward into power — or keep marching in circles, carrying the burdens of a culture we never owned, in a system that’s moved on without us.
