“The Black Problem” is not just a book—it’s a confrontation. A mirror held up to America’s past and present.
This work dives deep into the layered history of racism in the United States, exposing how its roots continue to entangle every race—Black, white, and beyond. It explores the origins of the Black plight, examining how centuries of systemic oppression, redlining, cultural erasure, and generational trauma still shape the lives of Black Americans today.
This work dives deep into the layered history of racism in the United States, exposing how its roots continue to entangle every race—Black, white, and beyond. It explores the origins of the Black plight, examining how centuries of systemic oppression, redlining, cultural erasure, and generational trauma still shape the lives of Black Americans today.
But this isn’t just about one group. The book unpacks the unspoken weight of white guilt, the ways it distorts allyship, hardens denial, and sometimes fuels the very divisions it claims to oppose. It also tackles mental slavery—the internalized narratives that still trap many in cycles of limitation and self-hate.
And at the center of it all is a crucial question: Why does the pain persist when no one alive today created slavery or enforced Jim Crow?
The answer lies in a brutal truth—centuries of hate have not only damaged generations, they’ve paused healing and blocked a path forward for all of us. Some keep hate alive, wearing it like identity. Others refuse to let go of the past, not out of remembrance—but as a weapon.
The answer lies in a brutal truth—centuries of hate have not only damaged generations, they’ve paused healing and blocked a path forward for all of us. Some keep hate alive, wearing it like identity. Others refuse to let go of the past, not out of remembrance—but as a weapon.
The Black Problem confronts these contradictions head-on. It challenges every reader to reckon with their role in the divide—whether they inherited it, deny it, profit from it, or are buried beneath it.
This isn’t a condemnation—it’s a call. For truth. For accountability. For healing that only begins when we’re brave enough to face why we haven’t yet.
This isn’t a condemnation—it’s a call. For truth. For accountability. For healing that only begins when we’re brave enough to face why we haven’t yet.
