No One’s Coming: Why Black Detroit Must Save Itself

In every corner of Detroit, I see it: there are these abandoned buildings that once held Black dreams, party stores that once gave back, and schools that once launched futures. I see the ache of people waiting for funding, fairness, and someone to save us.

But the truth is hard and clear: No one is coming. We must save us.

That’s not defeatism. That’s empowerment. That’s history. When Black people built Black Bottom, there were no grants, no tax credits, no outside saviors. Just vision, sweat, and unity. When Motown gave the world its soundtrack, it wasn’t backed by Wall Street—it was backed by Black genius and hustle.

Today, we find ourselves in the shadows of systems that were never designed for our freedom. We are offered seats at tables we don’t own, resources tied to policies we didn’t write, and timelines set by people who don’t live our urgency. Meanwhile, our kids walk past liquor stores to get to school. Our dollars circulate outside our neighborhoods. And our narratives are told by people who don’t speak our truth.

It’s time we stop outsourcing our salvation.

Detroit doesn’t need more pilot programs—we need ownership. We don’t need more studies—we need strategy. We don’t need more sympathy—we need power. Economic power. Media power. Land power. Cultural power. That begins with reinvesting in ourselves: building businesses that reflect our values, turning local stores into health hubs, using our platforms to educate and organize, and restoring our neighborhoods street by street.

We must teach our children not just how to work a job, but how to create one. We must create our own grocery co-ops, launch our own tech hubs, fund our own schools. We must demand policies that don’t just include us, but are built by us.

As the founder of Courageous Inc. and a son of Detroit, I don’t say this from a distance. I say this with calloused hands and an unshakable hope. I’ve seen what’s possible when we stop waiting and start building. I’ve watched youth from broken blocks rise through track and field. I’ve seen music uplift neighborhoods. I’ve watched conversations at folding tables turn into community action.

So no, we can’t wait. Not for politicians, not for billionaires, not even for fairness.

We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.

Let’s get to work—like our ancestors did. Let’s build like Motown did. Let’s believe like Coleman did. Not because it’s easy—but because it’s necessary. Because no one will save us…but us!