The American Strain: Trump and the Enduring Creed of White Supremacy

CAMDEN, NJ – To understand Donald Trump, to truly grasp the fervor of the “Make America Great Again” movement, requires a confrontation with a deeply unsettling but irrefutable historical truth: Trump is not an aberration, but an archetype. He is the contemporary embodiment of a classic American figure, whose political power flows directly from the nation’s oldest and most potent strain—a white supremacist ideology that has been intertwined with concepts of democracy and liberty since the nation’s founding. On one hand, the anguish felt by many white Americans today as they witness the MAGA movement’s explicit racism is the anguish of a myth being shattered, the painful awakening from a national narrative that has systematically obscured this foundational reality. Black people, on the other hand, have lived through this movie since 1619.

The Indelible Thread: From Frontier to Empire

The doctrines that birthed the American nation-state were, from their inception, racial in character. Manifest Destiny, the Monroe Doctrine, and the White Man’s Burden are not separate chapters but sequential verses in the same epic poem of Anglo-Saxon supremacy.

Manifest Destiny, framed as a divine mandate to “overspread the continent,” was a theological and racial justification for genocide and land theft, casting Native Americans as “merciless Indian Savages” and Mexicans as obstacles to a providentially-ordained white nation. This was not mere expansion; it was ethnic cleansing codified as national mission. Historical records reveal a staggering decline from an estimated 5-15 million Native Americans prior to 1492 to fewer than 238,000 by the close of the 19th century. This represents a population collapse exceeding 96% over four centuries, driven by a combination of warfare, displacement, and disease, all facilitated by racist/white supremacist government policies.

The Monroe Doctrine established the Western Hemisphere as a U.S. sphere of influence, a policy enforced not through diplomatic parity but through a paternalistic belief in the racial and political superiority of the United States over its non-white neighbors. It transformed Latin America into a backyard where military and economic intervention was naturalized, a logical extension of continental conquest onto a hemispheric stage.

The White Man’s Burden provided the humanitarian gloss for overseas empire, framing the brutal colonization of the Philippines and Puerto Rico as a noble, sacrificial duty to civilize “sullen peoples, half-devil and half-child.” It was the export of a domestic ideology, declaring entire populations unfit for self-rule—the same belief that undergirded slavery at home.

These were not fringe ideas but the central engines of national policy, creating a powerful national identity where whiteness was synonymous with sovereignty, virtue, and the right to dominate.

The Great Mis-Education: A Mythology of Innocence

How, then, does a nation built on such explicit racial hierarchy produce citizens who recoil at the explicit racism of a Trump rally? The answer lies in a profound and intentional mis-education.

The American creed presented in textbooks and national myth is a carefully curated edit. It is a story of democracy and liberty, of Pilgrims and pioneers, that systematically decouples these ideals from the racial tyranny that financed and facilitated them. The genocide of Indigenous peoples is minimized to “conflict” or “westward expansion.” The enslavement of millions is segregated into a single tragic chapter, rather than understood as the engine of early American capital. Imperial conquests are framed as benevolent “foreign policy.”

This creates a duplicitous national consciousness. Americans are taught to venerate the Declaration of Independence’s promise of equality while being insulated from the fact that its principal author and most early beneficiaries envisioned that equality exclusively for white men. We celebrate a “melting pot” culture—shaped by Indigenous, African, Latin American, and Asian influences—while the political power to define the nation has been fiercely guarded as a white prerogative. This selective history is a powerful anesthetic. It allows generations to inherit the privileges of a racial caste system while believing fervently in their own nation’s inherent innocence and moral exceptionalism. It makes racism seem like a deviation, a “sin” we are overcoming, rather than the core organizing principle we have continuously refined.

Trump: The Unvarnished Tradition

Donald Trump’s political genius—and his profound traditionalism—lies in his rejection of the anesthetic. He does not traffic in the coded “dog whistles” of late-20th-century politics; he uses a bullhorn, reactivating the unfiltered language and logic of America’s racial id.

His rhetoric is a direct echo of past doctrines. Labeling Mexican immigrants “rapists” and “animals” and African nations “shithole countries” is the dehumanizing language of Manifest Destiny and the White Man’s Burden, applied to modern migration 

. His central promise of a “big, beautiful wall” is a 21st-century racial frontier, a physical monument to the belief that the national body must be purified of non-white “infestation.”

Table: The Ideological Lineage from Doctrine to Trump

Historical DoctrineCore Racial LogicModern Trump-Era Manifestation
Manifest DestinyDivine right to displace “savage” non-white peoples from desired land.The border wall as a new frontier; rhetoric of immigrant “invasion” and “infestation.”
Monroe DoctrineHemispheric dominance and paternalistic intervention over non-white nations.“America First” isolationism that rejects multilateralism while asserting unilateral military/economic power.
White Man’s BurdenThe “civilizing” mission justifies domination over supposedly inferior peoples.Framing immigration bans and harsh policies as protecting American civilization from “shithole countries.”

His policies operationalize this ideology. The Muslim Ban, the crushing of asylum protocols, and the threat to end birthright citizenship are not simply strict immigration measures; they are efforts to legally redefine who belongs to the American nation along racial and religious lines. His administration’s systematic rollback of civil rights protections, from voting rights to LGBTQ+ safeguards, and its dismantling of diversity, equity, and inclusion programs are a direct assault on the fragile infrastructure of multiracial democracy built since the 1960s.

Most tellingly, his adventurous and aggressive militarism—from threatening “fire and fury” against North Korea to deploying federal troops against predominantly Black cities like Washington D.C. and Chicago under the pretext of crime emergencies—reveals the intrinsic link between white supremacy at home and imperial aggression abroad. As academic research confirms, support for militarized foreign policy among white Americans is strongly correlated with racial resentment, viewing non-white nations and peoples as inherent threats or legitimate targets for domination. Trump’s “America First” bellicosity is not an isolationist retreat but a reassertion of a racialized nationalism that sees the world as a hostile arena of competition against lesser peoples.

The Second Backlash and the Crisis of White Identity

Trumpism is the vehicle for a second great white backlash, a historical bookend to the first backlash that destroyed the multiracial democracy of Reconstruction after the Civil War. That first backlash, powered by the Klan, “Lost Cause” mythology, and Northern complicity, re-established white rule through terror and Jim Crow.

The current backlash, ignited by the Civil Rights Movement and supercharged by the election of Barack Obama, seeks to roll back the democratic gains of the past sixty years. Its fuel is white grievance—a pervasive fear among some white Americans that demographic change and racial equity represent a loss of status, a zero-sum dispossession . Slogans like “Take Our Country Back” and the defensive cry of “All Lives Matter” are the modern lexicon of this backlash, inverting reality to frame the pursuit of equality as an unfair attack on a threatened majority

.This is the source of the anguish for well-intentioned white Americans. They were raised on the edited, duplicitous creed. They believed in a forward-moving arc of progress. To see the naked brutality of racism not only re-emerge but be cheered from the highest podium shatters that narrative. The difficulty is in reconciling their own identity with the realization that the “greatness” many are nostalgic for was, for others, a regime of explicit subjugation. It is the pain of realizing that the comforting national myth is a lie, and that a more honest, more brutal history is demanding reconciliation.

Conclusion: Facing the Unbroken Line

Donald Trump is a classic American figure because he channels the nation’s most enduring political tradition: the mobilization of white racial anxiety to consolidate power and resist the expansion of a truly pluralistic democracy. He has ripped away the veneer of the mis-educating myth, revealing the unbroken line from the Puritan city on a hill to the MAGA rally.

To argue that this is not “real” America is to indulge in the very fantasy that enabled it. Racism and white supremacy are not un-American; they are as American as apple pie, woven into the fabric of our institutions, our geography, and our national story. The democratic ideals we rightly cherish have always coexisted in tension—and often in outright conflict—with this hierarchy. The struggle of the 21st century is not to defeat a foreign intrusion, but to finally sever this entrenched lineage. It begins by abandoning the comforting lie of national innocence and confronting, at last, the difficult truth of who we have been, and therefore, who we risk remaining.

A Black Grandfather’s Open Letter to a Grandson Facing a New Jim Crow

January 12, 2026

Dear Kameron,

Three days ago, you turned 9 years old, full of the vibrant energy and intellectual curiosity I so adore. Today, I am 61, a number that grants me the perspective of a witness. I was born on this date in 1965, five weeks before Malcolm X was killed, three years before Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated, a child when Fred Hampton was murdered. You are now the age I was when the 1970s dawned, a decade that promised much and retreated from even more.

I write this to you not just as your grandfather, but as a Black man who has had the profound privilege you may never know: I sat with my grandfathers, and even my great-grandfathers. These men lived under American apartheid—Jim Crow. I heard their stories, but only the ones they chose to tell. I never knew, truly knew, how their hearts broke when they saw the photograph of Emmett Till’s brutalized body, or what silent fury coiled inside them when news came of four little girls blown apart in a Birmingham church. Their inner worlds, their perceptions of the abhorrent conditions they endured, are lost to me. I cannot ask them. That loss is a specific kind of grief.

So I write to you now, for the day you turn 61 and I am long gone. I write so you will know, without question, how your grandfather saw this moment of drastic and unnerving upheaval in the age of Trump, and so you will understand the single most important task before your generation: the curation and dissemination of our counter-narratives.

The American Creed: A Doctrine of Contradiction

First, you must understand the bedrock truth: racism and white supremacy are not an aberration in America; they are part of the American Creed. This nation was conceived in a fatal contradiction—liberty alongside bondage, freedom alongside a race-based caste system. That contradiction was not an accident; it was a design feature. The “MAGA”movement you hear about is not a novel phenomenon. It is the latest, most overt embrace of this original tradition. It seeks not to make America great again, but to make America’s racial hierarchy explicit again. They understand a fundamental principle: he who controls the past controls the future. This is why their most relentless campaign is against memory itself.

The War on Memory and Why It Targets You

Kameron, the fierce movement to ban so-called “critical race theory” from classrooms is not about a complex academic framework. It is an attempt to erase the brutal and inhumane history that is your inheritance. It is a drive to sanitize the past, to turn the genocide of Indigenous peoples, the savagery of the Middle Passage, the terrorism of lynching, and the systemic cruelty of Jim Crow into vague “mistakes” or, worse, omit them entirely.

The simultaneous attack on Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) is the policy arm of this erasure. It is an effort to firmly re-entrench that caste system, to dismantle the meager tools created to ensure people like you might have a fighting chance in institutions built to exclude us. They are selling a revisionist history of a pure, virtuous nation, and any fact that complicates that fiction must be destroyed.

You are living through what historians will recognize as the Second Great White Backlash. The first came after Reconstruction (1865-1877), when the fleeting promise of multiracial democracy was drowned in a wave of lynching, Black codes, and the establishment of Jim Crow. We are now witnessing the furious response to the cultural and political progress symbolized by the Civil Rights Movement and, more potently, by the presidency of Barack Obama.

A Legacy of Strategizing Against the Scourge

Do not believe for a moment that our people have been passive in the face of this centuries-old scourge. Your bloodline is one of strategists. We have debated the path in cotton fields, barbershops, churches, dorm rooms, song lyrics and kitchens for generations.

Denmark Vesey and Nat Turner saw rebellion as the only solution.

Martin Delany and Marcus Garvey determined emigration was the only route to dignity.

Booker T. Washington argued for accommodation and economic advancement, setting politics aside.

Elijah Muhammad and Malcolm X preached separation from the “white devil.”

Martin Luther King Jr.Bayard Rustin, and a legion of others staked their lives on nonviolent, moral protest.

These were all responses to the same core antagonism: a nation that vowed liberty yet practiced bondage. The MAGA movement seeks to eliminate the very possibility that you, Kameron, will understand this long, strategic conversation. They want you ignorant of your own intellectual and resistant heritage.

The Battle for the Narrative: Why Civil Society Must Be Our Fortress

This brings me to my urgent plea. The mainstream avenues of information are failing or have been co-opted. Legacy media is consolidated and often sympathetic to the forces of revisionism. Billionaire tech overlords control the algorithms of Twitter, Facebook, and TikTok—opaque systems that can amplify lies and bury truth with a tweak of code. You cannot rely on them to tell your story.

Therefore, enlightened Blacks and people of color must become relentless curators and disseminators of counter-narratives. This letter is a small act of that curation. We must build and fortify our own institutions of memory and truth-telling.

The Black church must be more than a place of Sunday worship; it must be a sanctuary for our historical truth.
Our fraternities and sororities must pass down not just rituals, but the unvarnished chronicle of our struggle.
Our barbershops and beauty salons must remain seminaries of street-level scholarship.
Our historians, artists, filmmakers, and writers must be supported, celebrated, and protected.
Our family dinners must become spaces where we explicitly connect the past to the present.


We must create our own archives, our own film series, our own book clubs, our own social media networks. We must document, document, document. We must tell our stories to our children with the complexity and courage they deserve.

My Charge to You

Kameron, when you read this at 61, you will have lived through the flowering of this second backlash. I do not know what America you will see. But I need you to know what I saw, and what I feared.
I feared a nation that chooses amnesia over atonement. I feared a system that would try to make you a stranger to your own history. But I also have hope, because I see you. I see your brilliance.
My deepest wish is that this letter finds you as a man who has taken up this sacred work. That you have been a curator of truth for your children and your community. That you understood your grandfather’s perception not as a burden, but as a blueprint. The American experiment’s fatal contradiction remains unresolved. Your generation will not complete the work, but you must advance it.
The only way forward is to hold, protect, and loudly proclaim our counter-narrative. It is the story of our survival, our analysis, our sorrow, our joy, and our unwavering demand for a humanity this country has too often denied. It is the story I pass to you.

Keep it. Add to it. And pass it on.
With all my love and faith in you,


Pop Pop

Get Down or Lay Down: Trump’s Foreign Policy and the JBM Playbook

By Delgreco K. Wilson

January 8, 2026

CAMDEN, NJ – In the annals of international diplomacy, the notion of a U.S. president seriously threatening to purchase or seize a vast, self-governing territory from a NATO ally would have been relegated to the realm of dark satire. Yet, as the Trump administration openly discusses offering Greenlanders individual cash payments or contemplating military force to “acquire” the island, we are witnessing a foreign policy doctrine stripped of diplomatic veneer. This crude transactional approach—where sovereignty is a commodity and alliances are obstacles—finds a disturbing parallel not in the halls of traditional statecraft, but in the violent, coercive tactics of Philadelphia organized crime. To understand the logic now emanating from Washington, one need look no further than the ruthless playbook of Philadelphia’s infamous Junior Black Mafia (JBM) and its mythologized street boss, Aaron Jones.

Both paradigms operate on a foundational principle: power is asserted not through legitimate authority or mutual benefit, but through the demonstration of overwhelming force and the calculated application of fear. For the JBM, whose motto was chillingly reported as “Get down or lay down,” control of the cocaine trade was enforced through intimidation and brutal violence. The Trump administration’s Greenland scheme, which Danish officials have labeled a threat requiring a defense of “the fundamental principles of the UN Charter and international law,” operates on a similarly crude binary. The offer of payments—reported to be between $10,000 and $100,000 per individual—is the “get down” option, a lavish but coercive inducement. The explicit refusal to rule out military action, chillingly underscored by the recent abduction of Venezuela’s president, is the “lay down” ultimatum made to an entire nation and its allies. The message is clear: acquiesce to the transaction or face the consequences.

Aaron Jones, JBM

The Godfather Fantasy: Cultivating Power Through Persona

The parallel extends into the realm of cultivated image. Aaron Jones was said to be obsessed with “The Godfather,” consciously molding his persona after Don Vito Corleone to command a mix of fear, respect, and loyalty on the streets of Philadelphia. He became a legendary figure, a “death before dishonor icon” whose name carried immense weight. This careful construction of an untouchable, dominant persona is a core tactic of gangsterism.

Similarly, the Trump administration’s foreign policy is deeply performative, centered on projecting an image of uncompromising strength and deal-making prowess. The public fixation on Greenland—a large, mineral-rich asset—is not subtle geopolitics; it is a power flex, a demonstration of America’s ability to rearrange the map to its liking. As analysts note, this aligns with a 19th-century “great power politics” mindset, where spheres of influence are dictated by strength alone. By floating the military option against a NATO ally, the administration cultivates an aura of unpredictability and ruthlessness designed to make other nations capitulate to lesser demands, much like a neighborhood bully establishes dominance.

The Illusion of Voluntary Association and the Reality of Coercion

A key tactic in both playbooks is dressing coercion in the garb of voluntary choice. The JBM, at its height, was adept at creating legitimate business fronts—from video stores to security firms—to launder money and project a façade of normal enterprise. The Trump administration’s preferred narrative frames the Greenland proposal as a potential “Compact of Free Association,” akin to agreements with Pacific nations. This suggests a partnership between consenting parties.

However, this illusion shatters against the reality of Greenlandic self-determination. Polls consistently show that while a majority of Greenlanders favor eventual independence from Denmark, an overwhelming 85% prefer remaining with Denmark over joining the United States. The island’s political future is a careful, democratically managed process defined by its 2009 Self-Government Act, which outlines a path to independence that must be approved by its people and the Danish parliament. The U.S. offer of cash payments is a blatant attempt to bypass and corrupt this sovereign process, treating citizenship and national allegiance as an individual financial transaction rather than a collective democratic will. It is a hostile takeover bid, not a friendly merger.

Table: Contrasting Visions for Greenland’s Future

The Cost of “Respect” and the End of Alliances

Ultimately, the gangster’s quest for “respect” is a zero-sum game that destroys the community it purports to lead. The JBM’s reign contributed to the devastation of Philadelphia’s crack era. The Trump doctrine, as applied to Greenland, threatens to incinerate the very foundations of the post-war international order. Danish Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen has stated unequivocally that a U.S. attack on Greenland would mean the end of “everything,” including NATO. European leaders have issued a unified rebuke, stating security rests on the “inviolability of borders”.

The administration’s justification—that Greenland is “covered with Russian and Chinese ships” and is a national security necessity—has been widely questioned by security experts. The U.S. already maintains the strategic Pituffik Space Base on the island under a defense agreement with Denmark. The real driver appears to be a desire for absolute control over territory, resources, and shipping routes, framed within a new “Donroe Doctrine” of regional dominance. Like a gangster who confuses fear for respect, this approach fails to see that true strength and security are built on reliable partnerships, not shattered alliances.

Conclusion: From the Streets to the World Stage

The comparison between a Philadelphia drug crew and the foreign policy of a global superpower is jarring because it should be unthinkable. Yet, the Trump administration’s maneuvers on Greenland reveal a logic that has abandoned diplomacy for intimidation, mutual security for unilateral gain, and international law for the law of the jungle. Aaron Jones’s JBM is a chapter in the history of Philadelphia’s organized crime. The method of governance it represents—coercion, transactional loyalty, and performative violence—must not become the blueprint for American statecraft.

The people of Greenland have a clear message for those who would try to purchase their homeland or seize it by force: “Greenland is not for sale, and Greenland never will be for sale”. It is a statement of dignified sovereignty that deserves more than a gangster’s reply. The world must hope that in the meeting between U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio and Danish officials next week, the language of diplomacy, law, and alliance can still prevail over the ultimatum to “get down or lay down”. The future of the transatlantic world may depend on it.

Carrying the Weight of History: Why Black America Sees Itself in Shedeur Sanders

PHILADELPHIA, PA – To watch Shedeur Sanders play quarterback—with his pre-snap poise, his audacious no-look passes, his celebrated, unflappable “Shedeur Face”—is to witness more than a talented athlete. It is to observe a cultural reclamation project. His overwhelming support within the Black community, often chalked up simplistically to his confidence and swagger, is rooted in something far deeper than style. It is a profound, collective recognition. It is the applause of a community that sees in his assured success not just one man’s triumph, but a symbolic redress of a brutal, systemic history—a history whose scars are woven into the very DNA of Black American experience.

The Foundation: American Apartheid on the Playing Field
That history is an American Apartheid, a regime of exclusion not confined to the Deep South but sanctioned at the highest levels of national life, including the playing fields. From its inception in 1906 through the early 1970s, the NCAA operated as a gentlemen’s agreement for segregation, formally barring Black athletes from member institutions, particularly in the powerhouse conferences of the South. For seven decades, the Paul Robesons, Jackie Robinsons, and Jesse Owenses were brilliant, solitary exceptions proving a cruel rule. The Civil Rights Movement forced the gates open, leading to the rapid “tanning” of revenue sports by the 1980s. But the institutional response was not embrace, but a strategic recalibration of exclusion.

The Bureaucratic Barrier: When “Eligibility” Became the New Gate
When blatant segregation became illegal and immoral, the mechanisms of denial became bureaucratic. The NCAA’s evolving “initial eligibility” rules—Proposition 48, the Core Course requirements, sliding GPA scales tied to standardized tests—were weaponized as a more nuanced gate.
Legends like Georgetown’s John Thompson II and Temple’s John Chaney, towering figures who used their platforms without apology, called this what it was: racism. “The NCAA is a racist organization of the highest order,” Chaney declared in 1989, framing the rules as a new punishment for Black kids already punished by poverty. Thompson saw the cynical cycle: athletes were used as integration’s pawns under the guise of benevolence, then discarded with the same paternalistic logic when their numbers grew too great.

The Instinctual Knowledge: A Community Remembers What Was Lost
This is the buried trauma in the collective memory of Black sports fandom. It is the instinctual knowledge that for every Shedeur Sanders lighting up a Power 5 stadium today, there were countless Willie “Satchel” Pages, “Bullet” Bob Hayeses, and Doug Williamses of yesteryear who were denied the stage, their stats relegated to the glory of HBCU lore, their professional careers delayed or diminished. It is the understanding that the path was not cleared, but grudgingly conceded, inch by contested inch.

This brings us back to Shedeur. His journey is a direct rebuke to that entire historical project of exclusion.

Shedeur as Historical Agency, Not Just Athletic Talent
He began not at a traditional blue-blood program, but at Jackson State University, an HBCU, under his father’s tutelage. There, he didn’t just play; he dominated, showcasing a talent so undeniable it forced the mainstream to look to the HBCU, reversing the decades-long drain of talent from them. His subsequent transfer to Colorado and his record-shattering performance—37 touchdowns, 4,134 yards, Big 12 Offensive Player of the Year—wasn’t an assimilation. It was an annexation. He carried the HBCU-developed swagger into Boulder and made it the epicenter of college football.

His confidence, therefore, is read by the Black community as more than personal bravado. It is historical agency. It is the embodiment of a truth: “You could not keep us out forever, and now that we are in, we will not perform with grateful humility. We will excel with the unmistakable flair of those who know the cost of the seat we now occupy.” His much-discussed “swagger” is the posture of liberation from the historical narrative of being the excluded, the regulated, the “problem” to be managed by NCAA legislation.

The Echo in the Draft: A Familiar Story Reinforces the Bond
The fact that his prolific college career culminated in a fifth-round NFL draft pick—seen by many as a slight given his production—only reinforces the narrative. The community, schooled by history, sees the echoes: the subtle devaluation, the search for flaws in the Black quarterback, the institutional reluctance to anoint him the franchise cornerstone his college play warranted. Yet, even in that perceived slight, the support does not waver; it intensifies. Because the story is no longer about what the gatekeepers decide. It’s about what Shedeur, and by extension the community that sees itself in him, has already proven.

An Unfinished Battle, and a Symbol of Its Progress
The contemporary NCAA debate continues, now often couched in the softer language of “unintended consequences” for minority students, as noted by groups like the National Association for Coaching Equity and Development. But the shift from Chaney’s and Thompson’s explicit charges of racism to today’s milder objections itself tells a story of a battle partly won, yet ongoing.

Shedeur Sanders walks onto the field bearing the weight and the defiance of that unfinished battle. The Black community’s embrace is a celebration of his individual talent, yes, but it is also a collective, cathartic affirmation. It is the joy of witnessing a grandson of American Apartheid not just cross the forbidden line, but do so with a dismissive wave, a nod to the crowd, and a perfect spiral into the end zone. His confidence is their vindication. His swagger is their memory, weaponized, and set free.

“Coonish” Behavior: Stephen A. Smith, Jason Whitlock, and the Price of Modern Manumission

By Delgreco K. Wilson, Contributing Opinion Writer

For centuries in America, a grim and paradoxical transaction has shadowed the Black quest for advancement: the exchange of communal fidelity for individual freedom. It is a bargain as old as the nation itself, rooted not in the brutality of the whip, but in the insidious mechanics of psychological and economic leverage. Today, we witness a modern, media-saturated iteration of this dynamic. In the sprawling arena of sports commentary, figures like Stephen A. Smith and Jason Whitlock have built lucrative empires. Their success, however, is shadowed by a persistent and bitter accusation from within the Black community: that they are “coons,” a devastating label of racial betrayal. Their critics are identifying a pattern that feels like a 21st-century performance of meritorious manumission—a striving for personal elevation and favor by servicing narratives that comfort a powerful, predominantly white conservative audience, often at the expense of Black solidarity.

The Historical Bargain: Labor for a Glimmer of Freedom

The foundation of this American transaction is centuries deep. The economic architecture of the early republic was built on Black labor without Black liberty. From the cotton fields that fueled the national economy to the domestic servitude that sustained its households, Black work was the indispensable engine. Yet, the profit from that labor was perpetually alienated. The promise, always dangling, was that exceptional service, superhuman diligence, or unwavering loyalty might be rewarded with a sliver of relief—a less cruel master, a chance to buy one’s family, a mythical pathway to acceptance. This established a corrosive template: advancement could be contingent on reinforcing the system’s logic and calming its conscience. The doctrine of “racial uplift” that followed Emancipation demanded impeccable, respectable conduct to assuage white America’s fears and guilt, proving worthiness for basic citizenship. Diligence became a currency, not just for wages, but for attempting to purchase dignity from a system that withheld it by design.

The Modern Marketplace: From Plantations to Podcasts

The post-Civil Rights era did not erase this template; it digitized and broadcast it. The terrain shifted from physical plantations to cultural and ideological ones. As structural and institutional racism persisted, a new marketplace emerged for Black voices willing to translate Black struggle for white audiences, particularly those eager to believe the work of racial justice is complete. This is where the spectacle of figures like Smith and Whitlock becomes a case study. Their playbook is not one of outright bigotry, but of strategic division and absolution, performed for mass consumption. They operate within a media ecosystem that generously rewards controversy that confirms existing biases, creating a powerful incentive to mine intra-community conflict for content that resonates with a broader, whiter audience.

The Playbook of Modern Manumission

Their performance manifests in several consistent, damaging patterns:

The Dilution of Collective Grievance. When vandals scrawled a racial slur on LeBron James’s home, Jason Whitlock dismissed it as a “disrespectful inconvenience,” arguing racism is “primarily an issue for the poor” and that wealthy Black people should not “embrace victimhood.” This is a classic maneuver. By creating a class hierarchy of pain, he fractures communal empathy and offers a narrative of exception. It tells white audiences that systemic racism is either overstated or a crutch for the unsuccessful, while offering successful Black individuals a ticket out of collective identity—if they renounce it.

The Policing of Black Expression. Stephen A. Smith faced backlash for instructing Black Congresswoman Jasmine Crockett on how she “should talk to the President,” a moment critics saw as enforcing respectability politics. This echoes the historical demand that Black anger be polished into palatable, non-threatening discourse. The transaction here is clear: temper your tone, conform to my comfort, and your voice will be amplified on my platform. It is a modern-day echo of being rewarded for “knowing one’s place” in the conversation.

The Strategic Alliance. Perhaps most revealing is the alignment with architects of racial backlash. Smith’s frequent appearances on Sean Hannity’s show are not incidental. Hannity, who trafficked in the racist “birther” conspiracy against President Barack Obama, represents a media ecosystem invested in denying the very structural racism that defines so much of Black American life. To be a welcomed guest in that house is to perform a powerful act of reassurance. It signals that the analysis will not be too sharp, the history not too inconvenient, the demands not too disruptive. This alliance is the clearest evidence of the transaction: access and platform in exchange for a veneer of ideological diversity that demands little substantive change.

A Spectacle Within the Spectacle: The Smith-Whitlock Feud

The bitter, very public feud between Smith and Whitlock themselves underscores the performative nature of this space. They trade nuclear insults, with Smith calling Whitlock “the devil in the flesh” and “worse than a white supremacist,” while Whitlock labels Smith a “fraud” and a “pathological liar” installed by corporate powers. This is more than personal animus; it is a brutal competition within a narrow lane. They are jousting for the crown of the most compelling Black voice in the conservative-coded spectacle, each accusing the other of the very inauthenticity and opportunism their critics see in them both. It is a meta-commentary on the transaction itself, exposing the ruthless jockeying for position and favor that underlies it. Their conflict dramatizes the ultimate isolation of this path: a solitary pursuit of status that necessitates tearing down the nearest competitor, leaving solidarity in ruins.

The Justification for Disavowal: Preserving Collective Struggle

And so, the community’s fierce condemnation—the label of “coon,” the disavowal—is not a denial of their right to individual opinion. It is a historical and political judgment. It is the recognition that their chosen path to “merit” mirrors the old, soul-crushing bargain. They are seen as seeking manumission from the burdens of racial solidarity by performing a service: managing Black anger, explaining away Black pain, and validating the view that the primary remaining barriers are personal, not systemic.

The justified fury they provoke is born of a deep understanding that true liberation has never been won through these solitary transactions. The March on Washington, the Civil Rights Act, the political power of the Black electorate—these were won through collective struggle, un-bought and un-bossed. To see Black media elites today build personal wealth and brand power by seemingly undermining that collective project feels like a profound betrayal. It is the spectacle of the historically shackled selling a blueprint for lighter chains, and calling it freedom.

Conclusion: The Unfinished Story and the Refusal

In the end, the saga of Smith and Whitlock is a painful reflection of an unfinished American story. It reveals that the marketplace for racial commentary still rewards those who make the complex simple, the systemic personal, and the uncomfortable soothing. Their success is a testament not to their individual genius, but to the enduring demand for a certain kind of Black voice—one that, for a price, helps assuage a nation’s guilt without demanding the fundamental change that true absolution requires. The Black community’s disowning of this model is not an act of censorship, but an act of preservation. It is a refusal to let the transaction of the past define the value of their future. It is a declaration that some forms of meritorious manumission are, in fact, a more sophisticated bondage.

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Delgreco Wilson 

Wilson formerly taught Comparative Politics and International Relations at Lincoln University. He is a leading political analyst, educator, and advocate whose work centers on empowering Black Americans through a deeper understanding of political strategy and its historical roots in the fight against systemic racism and white supremacy. A prominent voice in the Greater Philadelphia Region, Wilson brings a wealth of academic rigor and real-world insight to his analysis of Black political thought and action.

Wilson’s expertise extends beyond the classroom. His incisive columns and articles have been featured in prominent publications such as the Philadelphia Inquirer,  Philadelphia Tribune, Baltimore Afro-American  and Delaware County Daily Times. A sought-after commentator, he regularly contributes to radio programs and podcasts across the Mid-Atlantic region, offering sharp analysis and actionable strategies for advancing racial justice and equity.

The Dangerous Conflation of Profit and Principle: Stephen A. Smith and the Crisis of Black Political Commentary

by Delgreco K. Wilson, M.A.

CAMDEN, NJ – When the logic of the market replaces the ethics of democracy in political discourse, we all lose.

In the annals of American sports commentary, few declarations have been as revealing as Stephen A. Smith’s famous professional mantra: “I wake up every day asking, ‘how can I make my bosses more money?’ and then ‘how can I get some of it?'” This philosophy has propelled him to the pinnacle of sports entertainment, culminating in a recent ESPN contract worth over $100 million for five years. But when this same transactional worldview—where value is measured exclusively in revenue and influence is calibrated for profit—extends into the realm of political analysis, it threatens to degrade our democratic discourse and undermines the particular responsibilities of Black public figures in an era of political crisis.

Smith’s foray into political commentary and his openness to a 2028 presidential run have made him a lightning rod in Black intellectual circles, where his commentary is increasingly viewed as vacuous at best and dangerously aligned with MAGA interests at worst. The controversy surrounding him represents more than just another celebrity dabbling in politics; it exemplifies the dangerous convergence of entertainment and governance in modern America and resurrects painful historical questions about the pressure on Black figures to seek validation from white-dominated institutions.

The Profit Motive in Political Commentary: When Everything Becomes a Business

Stephen A. Smith’s business philosophy, however successful in sports entertainment, becomes profoundly problematic when applied to political analysis. The fundamental incompatibility lies in their core values: democratic discourse requires truth-seeking, principled argument, and concern for the common good, while market logic prioritizes profit, audience growth, and personal brand expansion. Smith has explicitly acknowledged his lack of political expertise, telling The Washington Post, “I’m certainly not an aficionado by any stretch of the imagination… Most Americans are not aficionados. They don’t know all the intimacies and intricacies of every single issue”. Yet rather than humbly acknowledging these limitations, he presents them as a credential of authenticity.

This approach has tangible consequences. Political analysis driven by entertainment values gravitates toward sensationalism over substance, conflict over consensus, and viral moments over nuanced truth. Smith’s commentary follows this pattern—loud, confident, and often lacking in policy depth. As journalist Carron J. Phillips noted in The Contrarian, “Politics, like elections, have real-world consequences. Thick skin is mandatory in the political landscape. And, given recent examples, Smith hasn’t proved he can take a punch in this arena”. The same performance that works for sports debate becomes irresponsible when discussing issues like tariffs, foreign policy, or civil rights.

Smith’s political rise reflects what happens when celebrity status masquerades as expertise. His appearance in presidential polls and his serious consideration of a 2028 run—despite having never held office or demonstrated deep policy knowledge—speaks to our degraded political landscape. As Bill Whalen, a former media consultant for Arnold Schwarzenegger, observed, “The question is, what does Stephen A Smith believe in at the end of the day?… Where is Stephen A Smith on abortion? Where is he on DEI? Where is he on quotas and affirmative action? Where is he on crime? Where is he on spending? The list goes on. You just don’t know”.

Historical Context: The Burden of Seeking White Validation

To understand the strong reaction to Smith’s political commentary within Black communities, one must appreciate the historical burden of what it has meant for Black Americans to navigate white-dominated institutions and seek acceptance within them. This dynamic is not rooted in any inherent trait of Black people but in powerful structures created by centuries of oppression:

  • The Legacy of Slavery and Jim Crow: For centuries, Black people were systematically dehumanized, with the slave master’s approval often meaning the difference between better treatment and brutal punishment. Under Jim Crow, access to resources, justice, and safety frequently depended on being deemed “respectable” by the white power structure.
  • Respectability Politics: This strategy emerged whereby marginalized groups attempted to police their own members to align with dominant culture’s values, hoping this would grant them social mobility and rights. The unspoken promise was that if Black people acted “properly,” they would be seen as more human and deserving by white society.
  • Gatekeepers of Opportunity: Throughout American history, the primary gatekeepers of economic, political, and cultural power—CEOs, university admissions officers, publishers, Hollywood executives—have been overwhelmingly white. Gaining validation from these gatekeepers often appeared the most direct path to economic mobility, educational access, and cultural representation.

Against this historical backdrop, Stephen A. Smith’s approach reads to many critics as a modern manifestation of these dynamics—a Black public figure gaining platform and reward through amplifying viewpoints that align with white conservative interests rather than community needs.

Stephen A. Smith’s Political Evolution and Black Opposition

Smith’s political positioning has evolved into what he describes as a “fiscal conservative and a social liberal” who is “utterly disgusted” with the Democratic Party. While he claims the mantle of an independent thinker, his commentary consistently aligns with MAGA talking points that have drawn criticism from Black intellectuals and community members.

Table: Stephen A. Smith’s Political Positioning and Community Response

Smith’s commentary on Black voting patterns has been particularly contentious. He has lamented what he calls Black voters’ “unconditional loyalty” to Democrats, arguing that this “disenfranchises” the community by reducing its political leverage. While this argument contains a strategic logic, many critics note that it ignores the historical reasons for Black alignment with Democrats—including the party’s support for civil rights legislation and the Republican Party’s embrace of voter suppression tactics and politicians with white nationalist ties.

The backlash against Smith reflects a broader rejection of what many see as his transactional approach to racial justice. His commentary often frames political choices in terms of market-style negotiation rather than principles of justice or historical solidarity. This approach strikes many Black critics as not just politically naive but historically ignorant of how racial hierarchy actually functions in America.

The perception of Smith as aligned with MAGA interests intensified when Donald Trump himself endorsed a potential Smith presidential run, saying he’d “love to see him run” and praising his “great entertainment skills”. For many Black observers, Trump’s endorsement confirmed Smith’s alignment with political forces that have shown consistent hostility to Black civil rights and democratic participation.

Conclusion: Beyond Transactional Politics

Stephen A. Smith’s extension of his profit-first philosophy into political commentary represents a dangerous narrowing of democratic possibility. It reduces citizenship to a transaction and political discourse to entertainment. The strong negative response from Black intellectual circles reflects not just disagreement with his specific positions but a profound understanding of what happens when community interests are subordinated to personal brand-building and revenue generation.

The challenge for Black communities—and for American democracy broadly—is to resist the siren song of transactional politics that measures value primarily in ratings and revenue. What makes Stephen A. Smith’s political commentary so concerning is not that he holds conservative views, but that his entire approach to politics appears to mirror his approach to business: everything is a negotiation, every principle has a price, and the highest value is expanding one’s own platform and profit.

As we navigate the complex political landscape of 2025 and look toward future elections, the need for authentic representation grounded in community accountability has never been more urgent. The alternative—a political discourse dominated by entertainment values and personal profit motives—threatens to complete the corrosion of our democratic institutions. Black communities’ rejection of Stephen A. Smith’s political brand represents not closed-mindedness but a hard-won understanding that some things—justice, representation, human dignity—should never be put on the auction block.

F*ck Him! Why Black Athletes Should Shun Auburn’s Bruce Pearl

PHILADELPHIA, PA – In the aftermath of the assassination of far-right commentator Charlie Kirk, a predictable and distressing pattern has emerged. His death has been met with solemn tributes from powerful allies who have chosen to whitewash a legacy defined by racial animus. Among them is Bruce Pearl, the high-profile head coach of Auburn University’s men’s basketball team. In voicing his “unequivocal support” for Kirk and stating that Kirk “was right about everything he said,” Pearl has offered a profound insight into his own worldview.

For the elite Black basketball prospects being relentlessly recruited by Pearl, and for the parents who entrust their sons to him, this endorsement is not a minor political aside. It is a glaring red flag. It reveals an alignment with a ideology that fundamentally devalues their humanity. In the high-stakes world of college athletics, where coaches wield immense power over the young men in their program, aligning with a coach who champions a racist provocateur is not just a risk—it is an unacceptable compromise.

The Unvarnished Racism of Charlie Kirk

To understand the gravity of Pearl’s endorsement, one must first confront the uncontested record of Charlie Kirk’s rhetoric. This was not a man engaged in good-faith political debate; he was a propagandist who built a career on dehumanization and racial stereotyping. His comments, meticulously documented over years on his show, reveal a deeply ingrained pattern of racism and white supremacy.

Kirk’s philosophy was rooted in the “great replacement” conspiracy theory, a white supremacist trope that claims a deliberate plot is underway to diminish the influence of white people. He stated, “The great replacement strategy, which is well under way every single day in our southern border, is a strategy to replace white rural America with something different”. This theory, which has inspired mass shooters in Pittsburgh, El Paso, and Buffalo, was not a fringe element of his commentary but a central pillar.

His views on Black Americans were particularly venomous and relied on the oldest and most harmful stereotypes. He trafficked in the racist notion of Black criminality, asserting without evidence that “prowling Blacks go around for fun to go target white people, that’s a fact”. He repeatedly questioned the intelligence and competence of Black people, especially in positions of authority. Upon seeing a Black pilot, his first thought was, “boy, I hope he’s qualified” . He reduced accomplished Black women to affirmative action tokens, crudely speculating that a Black customer service worker might be a “moronic Black woman” who got her job not through excellence but through quota systems. He went further, claiming that prominent Black women like Michelle Obama and Supreme Court Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson lacked the “brain processing power” to be taken seriously and had to “steal a white person’s slot”.

His revisionist history on race was equally alarming. In a debate, he callously argued that “Black America is worse than it has been in the last 80 years,” downplaying the horrific era of Jim Crow lynching that saw thousands of Black Americans murdered by racist mobs. When confronted with this history, he dismissed it. He even labeled the landmark Civil Rights Act of 1964 a “mistake” that was turned into an “anti-white weapon.”

This body of work—a relentless campaign to question, demean, and belittle Black achievement and Black pain—is what Bruce Pearl has deemed “right about everything.”

The Power of a Coach and the Failure of Leadership

The role of a major collegiate basketball coach extends far beyond drawing up plays. For the young athletes who leave their homes to play for them, coaches become surrogate parents, mentors, and the most significant authority figures in their lives. They shape not only athletes but young men. Their influence touches on everything from discipline and work ethic to mental health, social awareness, and personal identity.

A coach’s worldview matters. It permeates the culture of the team. A coach who believes, as Kirk did, that systemic racism is a myth, will be ill-equipped to understand or support a player grappling with the realities of being a Black man on a predominantly white campus or dealing with racial abuse from fans. A coach who tacitly endorses the idea that Black people are prone to criminality will bring that bias to his interactions with his players. A coach who champions a movement that frames their very presence as a “replacement” of white America cannot be a true guardian of their well-being.

Bruce Pearl has voluntarily disqualified himself from this sacred trust. By fully embracing Kirk’s ideology, he has signaled that he operates in a reality where the legitimate fears, struggles, and historical oppression of Black people are either invisible or irrelevant to him. How can a young Black man expect empathy from a coach who applauds a man that called George Floyd a “scumbag”? How can a player trust a mentor who aligns with someone who believes the Civil Rights Act was an “anti-white” mistake?

This is not a partisan issue; it is a human one. It is about basic dignity. As an article in First and Pen argued, Pearl’s support for Kirk is part of a pattern of “racial politics” infused with “niceties” to aid recruitment, a strategy that allows him to benefit from the labor of the very people whose humanity his chosen ideology denigrates.

Auburn’s Troubling Environment and the Viable Alternatives

This is not an abstract concern. Auburn University has recently been grappling with its own serious allegations of racial inequity. A lawsuit filed by Travis Thomas, a former Black athletic academic advisor, alleges a hostile work environment and wrongful termination after he reported being berated by white supervisors and raised concerns about a grade being changed for a football player. While a court dismissed the hostile work environment claim due to the high legal bar for such cases, it allowed his claims of race discrimination and retaliation to proceed, noting a pattern of antagonism that followed his complaints. This case paints a picture of an athletic department where Black employees can feel marginalized and where speaking up carries risk.

Furthermore, the broader environment for Black college athletes is often psychologically taxing. They frequently compete at Predominantly White Institutions (PWIs) where they are a minority, face racial microaggressions, and often feel unsupported by their institutions. They are pushed to their physical and mental limits by a system that has been criticized for profiting from their labor. In this high-pressure context, the need for a coach who is not just a tactical genius but a compassionate leader who understands their experience is paramount.

Prospects have a choice. They are not obligated to subject themselves to a coach who has endorsed a racist worldview. There are countless programs across the country with coaches who not not only excel at winning games but also actively strive to create an inclusive, supportive, and empowering environment for their Black players. These coaches understand that nurturing a player’s mental health and personal growth is just as important as developing his jump shot. They see the whole person, not just the athlete.

A Choice About More Than Basketball

For a top recruit, the decision often seems to be about television exposure, tournament appearances, and pathway to the pros. These are important factors. But the choice of a coach is also a choice about what values will be reinforced during some of the most formative years of a young man’s life.

Playing for Bruce Pearl means playing for a man who has stated that the provocateur who trafficked in the “great replacement” theory and called Black pilots unqualified was “right about everything.” It means accepting that your coach is on record supporting a movement that sees your success as a threat and your presence as a problem.

Black athletic talent is not a commodity to be harvested by those who would deny its full humanity. It is a gift that should be nurtured by leaders who respect it, who understand the context from which it comes, and who are committed to defending the player as fiercely as they coach him. Bruce Pearl, by his own admission, is not that leader. Elite Black prospects and their families would be wise to believe him, and to take their talents to a program where they are valued not for what they can do on the court, but for who they are.

On the Death of a Racist: Mourning, Morality and the Machinery of Hate

PHILADELPHIA, PA – The brutal murder of Charlie Kirk, the polarizing right-wing activist and founder of Turning Point USA, presents a complex moral quandary, particularly for the Black Americans he so frequently targeted. How does a community mourn a man who dedicated his public life to questioning its humanity, intelligence, and rightful place in this nation? The answer lies not in the simplistic binaries of celebration or grief, but in a clear-eyed analysis of the system he served and a reaffirmation of the values he sought to undermine.

First, a necessary human gesture: to his family, friends, and loved ones, we extend sincere condolences. The loss of a son, a partner, a friend is a profound and private sorrow, a pain no one deserves. Our empathy for their personal grief is a measure of our own humanity, a quality that was often absent in the object of their mourning.

But public figures live a public life, and their legacy is rightly subject to public scrutiny. To assess Kirk’s impact, one must move beyond a laundry list of vile comments—though the list is long and telling. His mocking of Black pilots, his demeaning of Black women like Michelle Obama as lacking “the brain processing power” to be taken seriously, his characterization of George Floyd as a “scumbag,” his promotion of the antisemitic “Great Replacement” theory, and his relentless crusade against any effort to teach America’s racial history or promote diversity—these were not gaffes or slips. They were, as Neely Fuller Jr. would frame them in his seminal work, The United Independent Compensatory Code/System/Concept, consistent, functional components of a larger system.

Fuller’s conceptualization of racism/white supremacy is not about individual malice but about a comprehensive, global power structure. He posits that this system operates through established patterns across ten areas of human activity: economics, education, entertainment, labor, law, politics, religion, sex, and war/counter-war. Its goal is the continued domination of white people over non-white people. Through this lens, Charlie Kirk was not an outlier but a highly effective mechanic for this machine.

His activism was a case study in applying Fuller’s framework. In education, he fought to dismantle diversity initiatives and silence teachings on systemic racism, ensuring a curriculum that maintains a white-dominated historical narrative. In economics and labor, his rhetoric casting Black professionals as unqualified “diversity hires” was a direct action to undermine their economic standing and justify their exclusion from opportunity. In law, his dismissals of police brutality victims sought to legitimize state violence against Black bodies. In politics, his organization worked to mobilize a youth base around a platform that explicitly framed racial justice as a threat.

Kirk understood that in the entertainment arena of modern media, outrage is currency. He capitalized on racist activism, monetizing contempt and building a lucrative brand by feeding a hunger for a world where white grievance remains central and unchallenged. He was not a lone wolf howling into the void; he was a prolific supplier for the vast network of what Fuller would call the “system of white supremacy.”

So how do well-intentioned Black people—the primary targets of his project—respond to his death? With a steadfast refusal to be consumed by the very hatred he peddled.

The most powerful response is not to dance on his grave—that would be to engage in the same dehumanization he practiced. Nor is it to perform a forgiveness not yet earned. It is to continue the diligent, unglamorous work of building a world that renders his ideology obsolete. It is to:

1. Mourn the Harm, Not the Man. Grieve for the people his words wounded, for the college student who heard her existence debated as a “slot” stolen from a white peer, for the professional whose achievements were clouded by his toxic narrative. Channel the energy of outrage into shoring up these very communities, supporting Black mental health initiatives, and defending the DEI programs he attacked, which remain critical pathways to equity.

2. Expose the System, Not Just the Symptom. Kirk was a symptom of a enduring disease. His death does not mean the disease is cured. Use his legacy as a teachable moment to explain, using Fuller’s comprehensive model, how such figures are manufactured and rewarded. Analyze how they plug into the areas of economics (fundraising off hate), politics (voter mobilization through fear), and law (shaping judicial nominees). The goal is to dismantle the machinery, not just applaud the breaking of one cog.

3. Reclaim the Narrative with Unassailable Excellence. The ultimate rebuttal to a man who questioned Black capability is to live in defiant brilliance. To fly the planes, lead the corporations, teach the classes, create the art, and write the laws with unwavering excellence. It is to live in the full, complex, and triumphant humanity that his ideology denied.

Charlie Kirk’s death is a footnote. The struggle he exemplified is an ongoing volume. The appropriate response from the Black community is a collective, weary sigh for the unnecessary pain he caused, followed by a deep breath and a renewed commitment to the work. It is the work of affirming life in the face of his death-driven rhetoric. It is the work of building, in Fuller’s terms, a “justice system” to replace the “white supremacy system.” That work—dignified, determined, and unstoppable—is the most profound mourning and the most powerful rebuke imaginable.

The New Jim Crow: Why BLACK ATHLETES Must Respond

By Delgreco K. Wilson
Aug. 9, 2025

PHILADELPHIA, PA – The contemporary push by MAGA Republicans to redraw congressional maps in states like South Carolina, Texas, Florida, and Ohio represents nothing less than a 21st century iteration of the Jim Crow-era voter suppression tactics that systematically disenfranchised Black Americans following Reconstruction. This modern assault on Black political power—exemplified by South Carolina gubernatorial candidate Ralph Norman’s bid to eliminate the state’s sole majority-Black congressional district—follows the same playbook white supremacists used after the Civil War: using ostensibly race-neutral mechanisms to achieve racially discriminatory outcomes while maintaining a thin veneer of legal justification. As these efforts intensify, Black student-athletes who power the billion-dollar high major college sports industrial complex face a moral imperative: withhold their talents from institutions in states actively suppressing Black votes, just as civil rights activists used economic boycotts to combat segregation.

The Blueprint of Suppression: From Reconstruction to Redistricting

The post-Reconstruction dismantling of Black political participation provides the historical template for today’s Republican redistricting schemes. Following the 15th Amendment’s ratification in 1870, southern states implemented an arsenal of discriminatory measures—literacy tests, poll taxes, grandfather clauses, and all-white primaries—that reduced Black voter registration to single digits within decades. Mississippi’s 1890 constitutional convention openly admitted its purpose was to “reduce the colored vote to insignificance” without explicitly violating the 15th Amendment. The results were catastrophic: by 1920, Louisiana’s 130,000 registered Black voters dwindled to just 1,342.

Today’s MAGA Republican mapmakers employ nearly identical tactics with updated jargon. The Supreme Court’s 2024 Alexander v. South Carolina NAACP decision—which upheld South Carolina’s congressional map despite evidence it “bleached” 30,000 Black voters from Charleston County—established a troubling precedent. Writing for the 6-3 conservative majority, Justice Samuel Alito created nearly insurmountable barriers for proving racial gerrymanders, requiring plaintiffs to “disentangle race and politics” in regions where race and party affiliation correlate at 90%. This legal framework enables what Justice Elena Kagan condemned as “sorting citizens by race” under the guise of partisan gerrymandering.

The South Carolina Case Study: MAGA’s Modern-Day Vardaman

Ralph Norman’s push to dismantle Rep. Jim Clyburn’s 6th District mirrors the rhetoric of Mississippi Governor James Vardaman (1904-1908), who vowed to use “any device” necessary to maintain white supremacy. Norman’s public rationale—that a 7-0 Republican delegation would help “President Trump pass his agenda”—masks the racial impact: eliminating South Carolina’s only Black-majority district in a state where 30% of residents are Black. The 6th District was originally created in the 1990s to comply with the Voting Rights Act after centuries of Black political exclusion.

Legal experts note this violates Section 2 of the Voting Rights Act, which requires minority communities to have “an opportunity to elect representatives of their choice.” The ACLU’s Allen Chaney calls Section 2 an “impenetrable bulwark” against such plans, but the Supreme Court’s recent rulings have weakened these protections. Norman’s proposal follows South Carolina Republicans’ successful 2021 redistricting that made the neighboring 1st District safely Republican by excising Black Charleston neighborhoods—a move the Supreme Court sanctioned in Alexander.

The National MAGA Playbook: Texas, Florida, and the New Voter Suppression Complex

South Carolina’s efforts are part of a coordinated national MAGA strategy:

  • Texas Republicans seek to gain five new GOP House seats through redistricting, with Trump declaring they’re “entitled” to them
  • Florida Governor Ron DeSantis signed a 2022 map dismantling two Black-performing districts, which courts initially blocked before conservative appellate rulings allowed it
  • Ohio Republicans repeatedly defied state Supreme Court orders to stop using unconstitutionally gerrymandered maps

These states share Reconstruction’s sinister innovation: using technical legality to mask racial disenfranchisement. Just as Mississippi’s 1890 poll tax avoided mentioning race while devastating Black turnout, today’s GOP cites “partisan fairness” while surgically removing Black voters from competitive districts. The Princeton Gerrymandering Project gives South Carolina’s map an “F” for fairness and competitiveness, creating districts where general elections are irrelevant and representatives cater only to far-right primaries.

“If 5-star recruits en masse chose Michigan over Alabama, or UCLA over Texas, the message would resonate louder than any court ruling.

The Athletes’ Dilemma: Billion-Dollar Bodies, Second-Class Citizenship

Black athletes—particularly in revenue-generating football and basketball programs—face a moral contradiction: their labor funds universities in states actively suppressing their communities’ votes. Consider:

  • Southeastern Conference (SEC) schools generated $852 million in 2022 athletics revenue, predominantly from Black football players
  • Clemson (SC) and Texas A&M football programs each exceed $150 million annual value
  • NCAA Tournament basketball broadcasts net $1 billion yearly, powered, primarily, by Black athletes

Yet these same states:

  • Host 63% of all restrictive voting laws passed since 2021 (Brennan Center)
  • Contain 9 of 10 worst Black voter suppression states (Northern Illinois University)
  • Are dismantling majority-minority districts like Clyburn’s

The Boycott Imperative: Leveraging Athletic Capital for Civil Rights

A coordinated boycott by elite Black recruits could achieve what lawsuits cannot: imposing economic consequences for voter suppression. Potential strategies:

  1. Targeted Recruitment Strikes
  • Top 300 football and Top 100 boys and girls basketball recruits pledge to avoid SEC/ACC schools in suppression states
  • Current suppression state players transfer to HBCUs or northern schools (Michigan, Ohio State)

2. Game-Day Protests

  • Kneeling during alma maters in state capitols (e.g., South Carolina State House visible from USC stadium)
  • Wearing “Votes Over Victories” jerseys during warmups

3. NIL Collective Bargaining

  • Athlete-led protests demand universities lobby against suppression laws
  • Redirect a portion of endorsement money to voting rights groups

History shows economic pressure works. The Montgomery Bus Boycott (1955-56) crippled transit revenues, forcing desegregation. Today, a 20% decline in SEC football ratings could cost ESPN $285 million annually—enough to spur change.

Counterarguments and Complexities

Critics will claim:

  • “Sports and politics shouldn’t mix”: But stadiums fly state flags; coaches earn millions from public funds
  • “It hurts Black athletes’ futures”: Yet NFL/NBA scouts will find talent anywhere (see: Antonio Brown from Central Michigan)
  • “It’s unfair to students”: More unfair than losing voting rights?

The NCAA’s own history shows activism works. After 1969, when Black Texas Western players boycotted segregated facilities, the Southwest Conference integrated.

Conclusion: From Reconstruction to Redistribution of Power

The MAGA redistricting push proves that voter suppression remains the GOP’s most potent tool—updated with GIS precision rather than burning crosses. As in 1896, when Plessy v. Ferguson sanctioned “separate but equal,” today’s Supreme Court has greenlit racialized gerrymandering through Alexander.

Black athletes now stand where sharecroppers once did: exploited for economic value while denied full citizenship. Their predecessors fought poll taxes with protest; today’s stars must weaponize their billion-dollar leverage. If 5-star recruits en masse chose Michigan over Alabama, or UCLA over Texas, the message would resonate louder than any court ruling.

As Rep. Clyburn—whose district faces elimination—told the Post and Courier, this is about “absolutism.” The response must be equally absolute: no Black knees on fields in states that kneel on Black necks at ballot boxes. The playbook exists—from Reconstruction’s martyrs to Colin Kaepernick. Time to run the damn play.

The Vital Role of Civil Society in Preserving Democracy: Lessons from Blanche Nixon’s Legacy

By Delgreco K. Wilson

PHILADELPHIA, PA — On a bright afternoon this week, my family gathered at the Blanche A. Nixon/Cobbs Creek Branch of the Free Library of Philadelphia for a rededication ceremony honoring my great-aunt’s legacy. Blanche Nixon was a petite but formidable woman, a relentless advocate for the children of Southwest Philadelphia, who believed fiercely in their potential. “There’s no such thing as a bad child,” she often said, and her life’s work reflected that conviction. She understood that civil society—the network of libraries, schools, churches, and community organizations operating outside direct government control—was the lever by which marginalized youth could be uplifted, their talents nurtured, and their futures secured.

The Free Library of Philadelphia, Blanche A. Nixon Branch, Cobbs Creek

The timing of this celebration could not be more significant. As America’s 250th anniversary approaches, the nation finds itself at a precarious juncture, one in which the very foundations of an inclusive, truthful historical narrative are under siege. Public institutions—particularly libraries—will be called upon as never before to sustain democracy by preserving access to knowledge, fostering civic engagement, and resisting the erosion of fact in favor of political expediency.

The Assault on Truth and the Role of Civil Society

Recent years have seen a deliberate campaign to narrow the scope of American history, stripping it of its complexities and contradictions. President Donald Trump’s executive order targeting so-called “critical race theory” in schools was just one salvo in a broader effort to enforce a sanitized version of the past—one that ignores the competing traditions of liberalism, civic republicanism, and the ascriptive hierarchies of racism, nativism, and sexism that have shaped the nation.

Delgreco K. Wilson (author), Kim Wilson (sister) and Lea Wilson (mother)

Republican-led states have accelerated this trend, passing laws that restrict how race, gender, and systemic inequality are taught. The result is a distorted narrative, one that suggests America’s political culture has been defined solely by individualism and egalitarianism, rather than a continuous struggle between these ideals and the forces of exclusion.

In this environment, civil society must become the keeper of inconvenient truths. Libraries, universities, advocacy groups, and cultural institutions—organizations that operate independently of government and corporate control—are now essential counterweights to state-sponsored historical revisionism. They provide the spaces where marginalized stories can be told, where banned books remain accessible, and where citizens can engage in the kind of informed discourse that democracy requires.

Kelly Richards, President and Director, Free Library of Philadelphia

Why Libraries Are Democracy’s Lifeline

Public libraries, in particular, stand as one of the last truly democratic institutions in America. They are not just repositories of books but civic hubs—what sociologists call “third spaces”—where people of all backgrounds can gather, learn, and debate without the pressures of commerce or partisan influence.

  1. Guardians of Truth in an Age of Misinformation
    In an era of algorithmic echo chambers and politicized media, libraries provide free access to vetted information. They are among the few remaining places where individuals can engage with diverse perspectives, fact-check dubious claims, and develop the media literacy necessary to navigate a fractured information landscape.
  2. Sanctuaries for Banned Knowledge
    As school boards and state legislatures remove books on race, gender, and sexuality from curricula, public libraries often become the only places where such works remain available. In doing so, they fulfill their historic role as defenders of intellectual freedom.
  3. Community Anchors in Neglected Neighborhoods
    Blanche Nixon understood that libraries are more than just buildings—they are lifelines for underserved communities. They offer job training, after-school programs, and safe spaces for children who might otherwise lack them. In neighborhoods like Cobbs Creek, they are often the only institutions providing free internet access, literacy programs, and legal resources to residents shut out of traditional power structures.
  4. Archives of Local History
    Beyond their role in education, libraries serve as living archives, preserving the stories of ordinary people whose struggles and triumphs are too often excluded from official narratives. In doing so, they ensure that history is not merely the domain of the powerful but a collective inheritance.
Daneen Nixon (Blanche Nixon’s Granddaughter), Delgreco K. Wilson (Blanche Nixon’s nephew)

The Fight Ahead

The challenges facing American democracy are not abstract. They manifest in the closure of rural libraries due to funding cuts, in the intimidation of educators who teach about systemic racism, and in the growing partisan divide over what constitutes “acceptable” knowledge.

But the rededication of the Blanche A. Nixon Library is a reminder that resistance is possible. It is a testament to the power of civil society—of individuals and institutions that refuse to let communities be defined by neglect or historical amnesia.

State Senator, Anthony Hardy Williams

Blanche Nixon’s legacy teaches us that the work of democracy is not just about elections or laws but about the daily, unglamorous labor of sustaining spaces where people can learn, question, and grow. As the nation moves toward its semiquincentennial, the survival of its democratic experiment may well depend on whether institutions like public libraries can continue to fulfill that role.

The alternative—a nation stripped of its full history, where access to knowledge is dictated by ideology—is one that figures like Blanche Nixon spent their lives fighting against. The best way to honor her memory is to ensure that fight continues.