The Hard Truth: Black Faces in High Places Will Not Protect Us.

We've been sold a powerful, yet ultimately false, narrative: that Black liberation lies in Black representation. That if only enough of us could ascend to the highest echelons of power the executive offices, the legislative chambers, the judicial benches, the corporate boardrooms  then, and only then, would Black people be safe, protected, and truly free.

Let's be unequivocally clear: Black faces in high places will not protect us. This isn't a theory or a reason; it's a cold, hard fact borne out by our lived experience and the undeniable lessons of history.

History screams this truth. Time and again, we have witnessed Black individuals in positions of immense power, not only fail to protect our communities but actively participate in, uphold, or even intensify the very systems designed to oppress us.

Consider the devastating evidence:

Architects of Our Imprisonment: Black politicians, prosecutors, and judges have, with agonizing frequency, been at the forefront of crafting and enforcing "tough on crime" legislation that swelled the ranks of mass incarceration. 

They have overseen the expansion of police budgets, approved disproportionate sentences, and allowed the systemic warehousing of our own people

 Their Blackness did not prevent them from becoming cogs in the carceral state; in some cases, it lent a veneer of legitimacy to its cruelty.

Defenders of Our Oppressors: We have seen Black police chiefs defend brutal policing tactics, Black mayors preside over the violent suppression of protests, and Black officials vote for austerity measures that gut the social safety net in our communities. 

When the institutions of power demand allegiance, some Black individuals in "high places" have chosen loyalty to the system over loyalty to their people, becoming instruments of our further subjugation.

The Illusion of Progress, The Reality of Pain: 

The presence of a Black president did not stop police from murdering Black men and women in the streets. The rise of Black corporate executives has not dismantled the economic inequalities that cripple our communities. 

These are not failures of individual will, but stark reminders that the systemic nature of white supremacy and capitalism transcends individual identity. 

The master's house remains the master's house, even if a Black person holds the key. This reality is painful. It forces us to confront the uncomfortable truth that our protection does not come from integrating into, or legitimizing, the very structures that perpetuate our oppression.

So, if not "Black faces in high places," then who will protect us?

Our protection comes from us. It comes from our collective power, our unwavering unity, and our relentless struggle on the ground.

It is the organizers who build movements, challenge power, and demand justice from the streets to the ballot box.

It is the community defenders who stand in solidarity against police brutality and fight for mutual aid and restorative justice.

It is the abolitionists who refuse to reform broken systems and instead envision and build entirely new frameworks of safety and well-being rooted in care, not punishment.

It is every single one of us who commits to dismantling white supremacy and capitalism at every turn, refusing to be complicit in systems that harm our people.

Our safety, our liberation, and our future are not contingent on who sits in the governor's mansion or the White House. They depend on our ability to organize, to resist, to build, and to fight for a world where Black lives are truly valued, protected, and free. This is the truth. This is our power.

The fight continues. Our protection lies in us, together.