The Crisis We Won’t Name in Black America

The viral video of a chaotic street fight in Mount Vernon, New York — where teenagers and even adults were caught on camera violently brawling in broad daylight — is not just a local embarrassment. It’s a symptom of a deeper, widespread crisis that far too many in Black America refuse to name.

The footage is disturbing, but sadly, not surprising. It shows young people — not lacking in sneakers or smartphones, but in structure and moral direction — throwing punches, yelling, and being cheered on rather than stopped. This comes barely a year after a teenage girl in the same city lost her life following a similar incident. That tragedy, it seems, taught us nothing.

The real question is not why this keeps happening — but why we keep excusing it.

There’s a growing tendency among political figures, media voices, and even Black community leaders to reach for the same talking points: systemic racism, economic inequality, underfunded schools. These factors are real. But they cannot be the default defense when Black children are publicly assaulting other Black children — and when some of the adults around them are not only failing to intervene, but actively encouraging the behavior.

This is not just misbehavior. It’s a breakdown of values. A subculture has taken root — one that glorifies violence, disrespects authority, mocks discipline, and rewards emotional chaos over personal responsibility. And it’s being amplified by social media platforms that monetize dysfunction, turning our pain into viral entertainment.

This isn’t new. In 1965, Daniel Patrick Moynihan warned in The Negro Family: The Case for National Action that the erosion of the Black nuclear family would lead to social instability. He was mocked, but today, with over 65% of Black children growing up in single-parent households, the outcomes he predicted are unfolding in real time.

The U.S. Census Bureau and the CDC have shown that children raised without fathers are significantly more likely to struggle in school, develop behavioral issues, and face criminal justice involvement. Sociologist William Julius Wilson added that the collapse of urban job markets, combined with cultural disintegration, created a form of concentrated poverty defined not just by low income — but by broken norms.

The deeper truth? Family structure, peer culture, and discipline can shape life outcomes more than race itself. But despite this wealth of research, the response from many Black leaders has been near silence.

Why? Because the cost of telling the truth has become too high.

Leaders who speak honestly about cultural decay risk being labeled as “respectability politicians” or accused of “airing dirty laundry.” But silence does not protect our children. It only emboldens the chaos.

What we’re seeing in Mount Vernon — and in cities across the country — is not just about poverty. It’s about permissiveness. Not a lack of resources, but a lack of restraint. As Jason Riley wrote in Please Stop Helping Us, the refusal to address internal responsibility has paralyzed the Black community’s ability to rise from within.

This is not a call to ignore systemic injustice. But we cannot build strong communities on a foundation of dysfunction. How do you expect the kids to act when every pocket of adult leadership is dysfunctional? If we want different outcomes, we must raise a different kind of child. That means restoring family structure, re-establishing discipline, and rejecting cultural norms that glamorize destruction.

We also need to restore Black male leadership in our communities. Where are the mentors? The fathers? The men who once commanded respect on the block — not with fear, but with wisdom? No government program can replace that presence.

Black leadership must also become more present in the lives of our children — not just for social media photo-ops, campaign events, or to get reelected. We need leaders who are unafraid to speak directly to the subculture that’s driving this crisis, and to do so from a code of conduct perspective. You can’t talk “Black Excellence” without first giving the memo — the standard. That means defining what is and isn’t acceptable, and holding the line. Culture is not self-correcting. It must be led, shaped, and reinforced by those we look to for guidance.

And we must also counter the influence of social media that incentivizes dysfunction for clicks and clout. There must be consequences — at home, at school, and in the streets — when the line of decency is crossed.

The unraveling of our social fabric is not just a local problem. It is national. It is generational. And it is urgent.

We can no longer outsource the solution to politicians, nonprofits, or school boards. The real work starts inside the home, inside the culture, and inside the hearts of those who care enough to demand better.

If we want to protect our future, we must first reclaim our values. And that starts by telling the truth — especially when it’s about us.