Black Restoration Needs Black Ownership—Not Just Rhetoric

There is a great divide growing inside the reparations movement. One side is content with more studies, reports, and academic frameworks. The other side—where I proudly stand—believes reparations must lead to ownership, economic development, and generational wealth.

I am a capitalist with a conscience. That means I don’t believe in exploitation—but I do believe in empowerment. I believe in building businesses that hire our people, in owning property that can’t be taken away, and in teaching our children how to lead—not just labor.

Some will accuse this philosophy of being too “capitalist.” But what is the alternative? A Detroit where we study the problem while others buy up the land? Where we debate systems while watching others open businesses in our neighborhoods?

That’s not justice. That’s stagnation. And frankly—it’s insanity.

In the name of Black liberation, some still cling to anti-capitalist frameworks that sound good in the classroom but leave us broke in the boardroom. Meanwhile, other ethnic groups—who face their own struggles—quietly build power by securing real estate, establishing franchises, and passing down wealth.

They don’t have to beg the government for survival. They’ve built ecosystems that ensure their survival.

So why not us?

In Detroit, I’m building what I believe reparations must look like:

• A youth pipeline from athletics to ownership

• A media network run by us, telling our stories

• A cultural venue in an industrial corridor powered by Black capital

• And yes, programs and festivals that remind us that joy is resistance

This is the Courageous Ecosystem—a model that shows what happens when you mix vision with structure, heart with hustle.

Let me be clear: I support public policy that provides funding, land, and opportunity to Black people harmed by systemic injustice. But I don’t want a handout. I want a platform. I want a building. I want a program. I want a legacy.

I want Black Bottom 2.0—rebuilt not as a museum of loss, but as a monument of ownership.

And I know I’m not alone. There is a rising generation of Black entrepreneurs, organizers, educators, and coaches who are tired of waiting and ready to build. We’re not asking for permission. We’re asking for capital—and the room to create.

So yes, there’s a place for my philosophy in the reparations movement. In fact, there may be no future without it.

We don’t just need reparations. We need restoration. And restoration without ownership is just more talk.