I believe Black people are the heartbeat of this civilization. We make things. We create. We’re the ones who can put all the pieces together. That belief decides how I move through the world.
So, I ask why we haven’t taken our place as the leading people of this era. My answer isn’t popular. We don’t pay enough attention to each other. We spend our energy on things that never lift anybody, and the whole of us pays for it.
Psychologists have a name for what I’m describing. They call it belongingness. In 1995, Baumeister and Leary argued that the need to belong is a fundamental human motivation. It’s a construct, not a feeling. And the proof is blunt. A 2010 analysis pooled 148 studies and more than 300,000 people. Those with stronger social relationships had a 50 percent greater likelihood of survival. The authors compared the effect to quitting smoking.
Connection keeps people alive. Ignoring each other is a risk factor.
And we’re missing it. Sometime in the 80s, we swung the other way. People stopped behaving as one community. The reasons are real and documented: the drug epidemics, the imprisonment of our men, the strain on the Black home. I won’t cover them here. That’s multiple posts in itself.
What I want to name is what came with them. We stopped being responsible for rearing each other’s children. The “don’t correct mah chile” season started around then. We also left the baseline we used to share, a fellowship-centered idea of what proper behavior looks like. We got lazy. Lazy parenting. Lazy creativity. Lazy building. There are reasons for that, too, and I’m not covering them today either.
Here’s what matters. All of it pulled individual members of the Black community away from feeling filial belonging. That’s a gigantic problem.
Here’s what I’m asking. Pick the 10 to 20 people closest to you. Pour into them. Not money. Time and care. Get your friends reading. Get them creative. Help them organize their lives, and watch what a good plan coming together does for their whole face. That’s good for the heart and good for the culture. If each of us took responsibility for the 20 around us, I believe it would lead to a Black reawakening.
I also believe expanding our minds as a community opens something else. It connects us to our ancestral spirits, and those spirits make our lives longer and more whole. I can’t hand you data on ancestors. I can hand you the data on connection. They point the same direction.
Now the harder part. Ignoring each other hurts. So does ignoring ourselves. When we refuse to lift ourselves out of depression and self-doubt, it doesn’t stay with us. It hurts all of us. We have to break through the “I” and come back to the “we.”
That takes intention, and intention takes accountability. We refuse to negotiate with negative energy. We call people on the carpet when they bring it. I’ve been on both sides of that. As an Auntie, I’ve given correction and I’ve received it. Yes, I said correction. Some of it has fallen off our community guidelines, beloved. Sometimes it comes soft. Sometimes it comes blunt. We need both, and we need it from each other, depending on the situation, the person, and how hard-headed they are.
Here’s how it looks. I once told one of my play-nieces that I was very unlike her mother, and that I’d have no problem “gittin’ in dat ass” in front of her Mama and God if she kept testing me. Gentle parenting is for gentle children. And ours, based on what they’ve seen and experienced at a young age, are sometimes closer to feral than gentle. After our rather frank dialogue, she clearly understood how to behave whilst in my presence.
Then I went to her mother. I challenged her to build up her foundation and set healthy boundaries with serious consequences that weren’t emotion based. Mom got the hint. She started, slowly, behaving in a manner that meets our community benchmark.
And yes, we have an agreed upon yardstick. In my experience, we expect a lot more from our children than other groups do. We insist on excellence if the child has the ability. Some of us have been looking at the ground too long to see or remember it. I have no problem reminding us.
Git yo’ life, beloved.
The marrow of the Black coalition is interrelated. If my bathwater is dirty, so is yours. We came from the same struggle that soiled us in the first place. We have to own that connection and not refuse it. Independence in this iteration is truly evil. We need each other to see the face of God and raise ourselves to a level of virtuosity.
Which brings me to the hardest question. Do we need to dissolve our hierarchies, and the religion we’re tethered to, to see each other the way we need to?
Start with what’s real. A December 2025 Pew Research Center report found that 58 percent of Black adults say religion is very important in their lives, more than other racial groups. An earlier Pew survey found about three-quarters say Black churches have helped Black people move toward equality. The church is where a lot of us already gather.
Here’s where I stand. My own practice is rooted in traditional African spirituality, bound to the earth and in service of what the Creator needs me to be. I’m God-seeking. I believe our current hierarchy and patriarchy, and our tether to present-day religion, do harm even when our effort is pure. The point is to embody the Creator and choose the path set before us. That means swatting away what isn’t of Him, the way you swat a fly. No ceremony. Just done.
I try to be good to people, and I know I deserve the same in kind. I’ve lived too many lives to accept mediocre anything. Come hard or don’t bother coming at all. My ideology is human, in all its conveyances. I believe that’s how we need to treat each other right now. Save the softness for after the hard-headed folks get on board.
Cuz I’m showing up with maracas, a tambourine, and a full melodic voice to cheer my people on.
Gather we must. In intention and in principle.
Who’s one person on your list of 20 who needs to hear from you this week? Tell me in the comments.
