Pt1. Is It Really for the Culture? -A Opinion, Analysis & Open Discussion on Trust, Trauma, and Economic Cohesion
- Mar 30
- 6 min read
Updated: Mar 31

"The architecture of collective ambition."
The Paradox We Cannot Ignore
Walk through any major city in America, and you will see the architecture of collective ambition. You will see the Korean-owned corner store that financed a family’s migration, the Jewish-owned real estate firm that passed deeds down through generations, the Latino-owned restaurant that began as a rotating savings circle in a living room. These are not just businesses; they are monuments to a singular concept: economic cohesion.
But if you pause at the intersection of Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard and a side street in Atlanta, Detroit, or Harlem, you might see a different picture. You will see boarded-up buildings next to new developments, or a Black-owned coffee shop struggling against a chain store down the block. You might hear the quiet, aching refrain whispered in barbershops and boardrooms: Why don’t we support each other?
This is a question steeped in pain, often answered with shallow dismissals or shame. But to understand why the Black community despite having the collective purchasing power of a small nation struggles to build the same economic trust that fuels other cultures, we cannot look at the present alone. We must look at the choreography of history, the scars of systemic violence, and the psychology of survival.
Is the lack of economic unity a failure of "the culture"? Or is it a symptom of a culture that was systematically shattered before it could build?
The Architecture of Distrust

The Weight of History
To understand the distrust, we must go back to the auction block. Sociology, particularly the framework of Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome (PTSS) developed by Dr. Joy DeGruy, suggests that the behavior we see today jealousy, internalized competition, the "if I don’t have it, you can’t have it" mentality is not a cultural defect; it is a survival adaptation.
During slavery, the system was designed to break kinship. Trust was a liability. If you helped your neighbour escape, you were killed. If you reported your neighbor, you were fed. The "divide and conquer" mechanism was so effective that it created a pathological mistrust that was passed down, not in our DNA, but in our environment. After emancipation, the trauma didn’t end; it merely shifted. The success of one Black person was often viewed by the dominant society as a threat, leading to violent reprisals.
The Terror of Success

Image Sources : Black Wall Street | Tulsa Library
Consider the most glaring example of this systemic sabotage: Black Wall Street, Tulsa, Oklahoma, 1921.
For years, the Greenwood District was the epitome of "for the culture." It was a self-sufficient ecosystem of Black-owned banks, hotels, hospitals, and homes. It was wealth. It was trust.
And it was burned to the ground by a white mob, with the aid of the city government. Hundreds were killed, thousands were displaced, and the wealth that took a generation to build was erased in 18 hours. No reparations were paid.
When we ask why a Black business owner today might hesitate to buy from another Black business, or why they might hoard resources rather than pool them, we must ask: What happens when you pool resources and succeed? The historical answer, for the Black community, is often: It gets taken.
The Gap in Business Survival Rates

Sources: Federal Reserve Bank (2023 Small Business Credit Survey); U.S. Census Bureau (Annual Business Survey).
This data isn't about laziness or lack of intelligence. It is about structural denial. When only 29% of Black business owners get the bank loans they apply for compared to 60% of white owners the result isn't just a business failure; it is a psychological wound. It reinforces the scarcity mindset.
The Psychology of "Alone"

If you ask a young Black entrepreneur why they don’t partner with another Black entrepreneur, a common answer emerges: I don’t want to be set up to fail. There is a pervasive fear of "crabs in a barrel" the idea that if one tries to climb out, the others will pull them back down.
But why does this dynamic appear so pronounced in this demographic? We can look at the concept of Internalized Oppression. When a society tells you for centuries that you are inferior, the oppressed group sometimes adopts that view. Mistrust, jealousy, and greed become turned inward. It feels safer to compete with someone who looks like you for the one seat at the table, rather than trust them to build a bigger table.
Other groups often circumvent this through Rotating Credit Associations (ROSCAs) commonly known as susu in West Africa, hui in China, or tanda in Mexico. These are informal banking systems based purely on trust.
The Trust Deficit

Source: Pew Research Center (2024) - "Trust in Financial Institutions and Community Networks."
This chart isn’t a measure of morality; it is a measure of accumulated risk. For many Black Americans, history has shown that trusting your community with money is a high-risk venture not because the people are untrustworthy, but because the system has made the community so economically fragile that a single default can destroy everyone in the circle.
Jealousy or Scarcity?
We must address the elephant in the room: jealousy. It is a word often used to describe the resistance Black business owners feel from their own demographic. If a Black real estate mogul buys a block, why do they sometimes face resentment rather than praise?
This is rarely pure malice. It is scarcity trauma. In a community where the median net worth is roughly one-eighth that of white households, the success of one feels like the theft of a limited resource. In communities with high economic stability like Asian or Jewish enclaves success is viewed as a rising tide that lifts all boats. In communities where the tide has been deliberately held back, success can feel like a zero-sum game.
But here is the opinionated truth: This mindset, while explainable by trauma, is the final trap of the oppressor.
When we refuse to support Black businesses because we fear the quality won't be there (a perception often rooted in capital deficits, not skill), or when we tear down the "Black-owned" sign because we resent the price, we are finishing the job that Jim Crow started. We are enforcing the idea that Black people cannot hold space in the economy.
Is It Really for the Culture?
So, we return to the title: Is it really for the culture?
The answer is nuanced. Historically, "the culture" was forced to adopt a survivalist individualism. Slavery, systemic racism, and economic terrorism (like the destruction of Greenwood) created a generational environment where pooling resources felt dangerous.
But the data also shows a turning point. We are seeing a renaissance of cooperative economics. From the rise of Black-owned venture capital funds like Harlem Capital to the grassroots "Buy Black" movements that surged after 2020, a shift is happening.
Reversing the trend requires a deliberate choreography:
Acknowledge the Trauma: We must stop pretending slavery and Jim Crow don’t affect our financial psychology today. We must teach financial literacy as a form of therapy.
Build Secure Structures: Trust cannot be demanded; it must be earned. We need more third-party spaces, Black-led credit unions, and community development financial institutions (CDFIs) that act as neutral ground to facilitate cooperation.
Shift from Scarcity to Abundance: We have to teach that if a Black business succeeds, it doesn’t take from the community; it adds to the tax base, hires our children, and stabilizes our neighbourhoods.
A New Movement

The lack of economic cooperation in the Black community is not inherent. It is a "socialized" behavior resulting from centuries of systematic disempowerment. But culture is not static; it is a dance that can be re-choreographed.
The jealousy and the "go-it-alone" mentality are survival mechanisms that have outlived their usefulness. The question isn't whether Black people can work together we did it in Tulsa, we did it in the Civil Rights Movement, and we do it in churches every Sunday. The question is whether we can unlearn the fear that tells us that building together is a risk we cannot afford.
When we decide that the risk of staying separate is greater than the risk of trusting each other, the movement will begin. And this time, we will hold the deeds.
Sources
DeGruy, Joy. Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome: America's Legacy of Enduring Injury and Healing. (2017).
Federal Reserve System. 2023 Small Business Credit Survey: Report on Firms Owned by People of Color. (2024).
Pew Research Center.Trust in Financial Institutions and Community Networks Among U.S. Adults. (2024).
U.S. Census Bureau. Annual Business Survey (ABS): 2022 Data Year. (2025).
The Brookings Institution.The case for investing in Black-owned businesses. (2023).
Historical Reference: Tulsa Race Massacre of 1921. Oklahoma Historical Society.
Disclaimer: This Opinion, Analysis & Open Discussion is based on sociological, psychological, and historical research available up to 2026. The analysis highlights systemic issues and historical trauma rather than suggesting genetic or cultural inevitabilities. The intention is to foster understanding and encourage actionable solutions for economic empowerment.
Name: For The Campaign
Writer: Independent Content Contributor For Stories
This article is part of the series, "Community Discussions," and is published by The Bureau of Advanced Achievements & Continuous Research Development. Republication is permitted under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International Public License in accordance with company terms, with views belonging solely to the independent content contributor. For more details on the policy, consult the Bureau of Advanced Achievements & Continuous Research Development website.




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