Apart from racism, America’s true religion is capitalism. If racism dehumanizes us, capitalism commodifies us. This is the operating system of the nation—a system that turns bodies into labor, culture into marketing, and suffering into profit. For Black people, the intertwined forces of racism and capitalism have never been abstract; they are lived realities, felt in every denied mortgage, every underfunded school, every food desert, every low-wage job, and every prison cell filled to quota.
America was never designed for us. Its systems were not broken by accident; they were built that way. The government, the markets, the courts—they function precisely as intended when Black life is impoverished and controlled. Even now, we witness the state consolidating power through acts that no longer pretend to uphold democracy. Gerrymandering, book banning, the reinstallation of Confederate names on military bases, and the erasure of Black and women’s contributions from official histories are not cultural debates—they are declarations of war against our future.
Republicans have stopped pretending. They are not concerned with optics or even constitutional restraint. They are seizing power through legislative and judicial means, openly dismantling representative governance and replacing it with authoritarian mechanisms of control. They say the quiet part out loud now: they don’t want a multiracial democracy. They want power. And they’re willing to burn down the system to keep it.
That’s why BIT—the Black Infrastructure Trust—is not just timely, it’s essential. We cannot keep appealing to institutions that were never built for us. We cannot afford to rely on systems that have proven, time and again, they will sell our lives for votes, ratings, or campaign donations. BIT is our response to this reality. It is our plan to build autonomous infrastructure for Black survival, resilience, and liberation.
BIT is not charity. It is not Black capitalism in the neoliberal sense. It is communal investment. It is a collective refusal to continue feeding the very machine that consumes us. It is strategic economic resistance rooted in shared ownership, political clarity, and mutual aid. BIT is how we take control of the basic necessities of life: food, housing, healthcare, education, and security.
Let’s be clear—wealth in this country isn’t just about comfort, it’s about power. It’s about being able to say “no” without fear of starvation or eviction. It’s about not having to trade your dignity for a paycheck. It’s about protecting your people when the state decides they are disposable.
Every time we create self-sufficiency—whether it’s a cooperative grocery store, a community-owned health clinic, or a land trust—we expose the lie that we need their systems to survive. And that exposure is dangerous to them. That’s why they burned down Tulsa. That’s why they sabotaged the Black Panthers' free breakfast programs. That’s why they send in zoning boards, red tape, and armed police whenever Black people try to own anything together.
BIT is our firewall against erasure. It is our collective bank, our emergency response network, our liberation fund. Because we already know what comes next: when they rewrite history, when they take our names off buildings, when they criminalize our speech, when they redraw political lines to silence our votes—those are all just preludes to worse atrocities.
This is not a drill. It’s a turning point. And at this turning point, we must decide: do we keep begging for justice from systems built to deny it, or do we build the systems ourselves?
We choose to build.
We are not waiting to be saved. We are saving each other.
What I’m here to do is connect with the ones ready to move—ready to think differently, build differently, and live free on our own terms. This is about one thing:
Liberation under Black management.
Until the next episode:
Stay sharp. Stay Building. And stay Black on Purpose.
