“Is Your Local Black Billionaire Suffering From…
Post-Traumatic Slave Syndrome?”
Listen to this.
A rapper can’t be my opp, I got MAGA republicans
Them shots came from the very top of the government, good luck with them -Jay Z, Roots Picnic Freestyle
I have my personal disagreements with the Roots Picnic Freestyle by Jay-Z, even if I can acknowledge it was an incredible display of lyricism, wordplay, and creativity. My core disagreement is that it was goading and addressing things that Jay has publicly critiqued not even a year ago.
In a conversation with GQ, Jay acknowledged that in the social media era there may not be a place for “beefs” like when he was coming up and before. Collaboration is the way to go.
And then, he was getting back into the arena, settling scores and sounding like he was heated, ready for war. Is he a statesman observer, or soldier participant? What titled attire is the proper suit to fit him in?
Let me stop, let me stop.
But Jay’s freestyle and past work, whether it’s Story of OJ and even a bit of Smile, have illustrated and asked questions of us the listeners.
“Do we really have sympathy for the Black billionaire?”
His words seem bragadocious but also carry a hint of loneliness, not being able to. Jay always starts off dropping a dime of game, then holds back, acknowledging he’ll get in trouble.
“Yet it’s legal in Colorado, yet, we deny
Black entrepreneurs, free enterprise
That’s why it’s a black market, that’s why it’s called the trap
That’s why it’s called the projects ’cause it’s exactly that
All these people was gon’ kill me, heh
’Cause the more I reveal me, the more they ‘fraid of the real me”
Whether this is banter, it rings true and highlights a very interesting dynamic.
In a world where money and politics seem to mix more easily and seamlessly, there is a stark contrast between white billionaire activity and Black billionaire activity.
Before, businesspersons would evade any political discourse for fear of dividing or angering potential customers, donors, clients, and even politicians who could make their life hell. So they kept objectivity, or both sidesisms to protect themselves from accusations that they favor one politician over another.
This has changed, though.
Koch brothers, Elon Musk, and the Ellison family have no issue meddling in the world of politics to advance their own interests; as a matter of fact, whether it's blatant support or willing alignment on the grounds of business stability, white billionaires and capitalists have no qualms about being seen near the throne regardless of who sits on it.
However, Black billionaires appear to be more… cautious.
When Byron Allen took over the late-night slot from Stephen Colbert, he made clear he had no intention of stoking the ire of the administration in the way Colbert did. No politics.
We have an initial answer on our minds when we ask why this continues to happen. Why is it that our Black billionaires who have resources and can make calls, can support legislation, can leverage their capital more intentionally, have more resources than the Civil Rights leaders of our past appear to be so “uninterested” in helping to liberate the oppressed?
Why don’t they utilize that “proximity to the brass ring” Baldwin spoke of in conversation about Michael Jackson?
“Greed. Money. It’s not hard to see why.”
This is an all-inclusive determination. However, I strongly feel that there is something more. Something that hides beneath the frequencies of Jay-Z’s rhymes and Allen’s guilty admission.
Black billionaires subconsciously know what happens when Black people seek power. They know what happens when a voice realizes it doesn’t just have a voice to call attention to the travesties of their people. And perhaps that is a fate they seek to avoid.
So again I ask.
Do you or someone you know have a Black billionaire suffering from Post-Traumatic Slave Syndrome?
Come and hear my thoughts…
What is Post-Traumatic Slave Syndrome
Dr. Joy DeGruy, who developed the theory of Post-Traumatic Slave Syndrome, was burdened with so many questions about the state of Black people.
“Why do some people seek overachievement and level critiques of underachievement at other Black people?”
“Why do some people try their hardest to deny the existence of racism, even when faced with it every day?”
“Why do some people isolate, and others, well, crash out?”
Dr. DeGruy developed Post-Traumatic Slave Syndrome to understand why the nuances of Trans-Atlantic Slavery and eventual American slavery shaped the psyches, behaviors, and attitudes of Black people in this country. Whether they acknowledge them or not.
These coping mechanisms were necessary attributes needed to survive a hostile white supremacist world, or were direct scars that could be linked as effects of it.
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The Foaming Anti-Blackness consumed and spit back out at their own gives context of a culture, and even on an individual-to-individual basis. So much of our experiences, if Dr. DeGruy is correct, can be written by what our ancestors saw and went through when they were pulled from home, put on a ship, yanked off the ship, and placed in “The New World.”
Slavery and racism sit on the precipice of being taboo in our culture to discuss, which leaves us unprepared to even diagnose what we see, what we feel, what we deem to be just character flaws. The work in both ways must be done, but if you have no reference to the source, you are walking into a situation blind.
The Black Billionaire Connection
In a world where so many suffer, to be called a “billionaire” is a sort of act of defiance against what has been written as natural law. When you add the ingredient of race, you only magnify the dichotomy.
If we are to believe that Black people were assigned, not given, but assigned the role of the lesser of the two men, between white and Black, then we must also believe and accept that the existence of a man or woman who has been assigned as having more intrinsic value by this culture based on his net worth, who happens to be Black, spits in the face of this entanglement.
And it earns a level of intrigue that doesn’t always stay in the sector of curiosity. Because we all know that white supremacy cannot tell the difference between Black power and genuine Black vitriol towards white people.
It views Black power as suspicious, cunning, building something underneath to swallow white society whole, and place itself on top to get back for all who perished before.
The Black billionaire knows this.
He/She/They do not involve themselves in the fight against white supremacy because they will be the first casualties. They have physical and emotional capital with their communities, and they have a family to feed. And their bodies and their psyches carry the scars of Greenwood, Tulsa.
Or Rosewood, Florida, or not too far in Ocoee, or Memphis, or Atlanta in 1906, or Detroit in 1943, or Seneca Village.
The last of these wasn’t destroyed by white hands, angry about Black wealth. It faced something more sinister. Local governments were willing to get rid of it for their own motivations.
All of these stories carry the same strand, running rampant throughout. Wealth concentrated in the hands of Black people, that was destroyed by individuals or the state, that felt like punishment for reaching and damn near holding the American dream.
I ask a simple question. What if the story of the Black billionaire isn’t just about greed, but it is a coping mechanism?
Her silence buys her safety in a world where Black wealth is considered blasphemous to white poverty.
His inaction shows he is not an adversary that needs the state to punish him.
They’re coming late to the party of racially motivated or perceived grievance is a place marker that, when the photos were taken, and when the racist in charge returns, they cannot say them or their family must suffer.
Our Black Billionaires Need Help!!!
Our leaders, albeit in a much smaller sense, spoke of this conundrum.
Dr. King mentioned how wealthy African Americans in the South, in Atlanta, where he was born, were not convinced it was their necessity to get in the fight against oppression in Alabama or Mississippi.
James Baldwin mentioned similar sentiments in describing disparities in his journey to the South.
Malcolm X was critical of Black wealthy socialites, performers, entertainers, and comics being deemed as leaders of the community.
All three attacked this issue differently, yet spoke the same language. Wealth can distort your perception of the lived reality of your brothers and sisters, so it is best to let the activists take the lead. And all those who walked before touched on a chord of truth. Perhaps one or two more sympathetic than the other; the real possibility of those who have a little more losing everything.
And it is hard for us as people to understand because we see the fast cars, we see the mansions, we see the dividends, and you made the executive decision to sell your car because you couldn’t afford the insurance anymore; it is hard to empathize. However, we don’t have to empathize; we don’t have to love; all we must do is hear the same rhythm, the patterns that feel oh so consistent.
The Black billionaire doesn’t look in the mirror; he looks out the windows on two sides of a room. On one side, he sees the sights of today.
Communities having to crowd-fund their own investigations, because they don’t have the means. Hoping to God that people care enough about their son or daughter to help.
He sees sisters who spend their entire lives dedicated to getting that job with the state in hopes they can finally claw their way to financial freedom. Only to be stiffed by the system that deems such dreams DEI.
They see an administration that views Blackness as a cover for white overthrow. Every investment that feels symbolic, every purchase that looks suspect, every position that gives a few more seconds near the throne, where the voice echoes more, is snuffed out.
“They’ll do you like Ryan Clark, but some aren’t lucky enough to have their own platform.”
On the other side, that other window, the Black billionaire sees the fires, the shards of wood foundations burned to a crisp by rabid mobs. They hear the muffled screams of people long gone; time has distorted their voices. They see generations that will never be remembered, just flatly memorialized with a plaque. “Here was __”
That could be him, if he doesn’t keep his mouth shut. That could be his family, if he doesn’t learn to keep his truths in silence. It doesn’t matter how many screams he hears, how many people lost everything; he can’t be like those people. Destroyed by today and forgotten by tomorrow.
No one asks what this does to the Black billionaire. Not in a romantic or sympathetic tone. But a clinical one.
Well... no one until today.
