BLACK POWER WAS NEVER THE PROBLEM. WHITE SUPREMACY WAS — AND STILL IS.

Every few years, the same argument resurfaces. Someone hears the phrase "Black Power" and responds with a question they believe is clever: "If Black people can say Black Power, why can't White people say White Power?"

The question itself reveals a fundamental misunderstanding of American history.

Black Power did not emerge because Black people wanted to dominate anyone. Black Power emerged because Black people had been systematically denied power. There is a difference between seeking power and seeking supremacy. There is a difference between demanding a seat at the table and demanding ownership of the entire room. Yet many Americans continue to conflate the two.

To understand Black Power, we must first understand the conditions that gave birth to it. For centuries, Black Americans were denied political power, economic power, educational power, housing opportunities, voting rights, and access to institutions that shaped the direction of the nation. Even after slavery ended, Jim Crow laws ensured that Black communities remained segregated, marginalized, and excluded from full participation in American democracy. Black people did not wake up one morning and decide they wanted power. They spent generations being denied it.

When activists such as Stokely Carmichael popularized the phrase "Black Power" during the Civil Rights Movement, they were not advocating domination. They were advocating self-determination. They were demanding that Black communities have a meaningful voice in decisions affecting Black communities. They were calling for political representation, economic opportunity, quality education, community control, and dignity. In short, they were demanding what every American claims to value.

Here in Birmingham, Alabama, we should understand this history better than most. Birmingham was not called Bombingham because Black people sought supremacy. It earned that name because Black people sought equality. The children who marched in 1963 were not demanding special treatment. They were demanding equal treatment. The families who endured police dogs, fire hoses, church bombings, economic retaliation, and violence were not seeking domination. They were seeking citizenship. If we misunderstand the difference between Black Power and White Supremacy, then we misunderstand the very history that shaped our city and helped transform this nation.

The reason some people become uncomfortable with Black Power is because they hear the word "power" but ignore the history attached to it. Context matters. History matters. Power matters.

The comparison to "White Power" fails because the two phrases emerged from entirely different historical realities. Black Power emerged as a response to oppression. White Power movements emerged as a response to equality. One sought inclusion in a system that had historically excluded Black people. The other sought to preserve a system that historically privileged white people. These are not mirror images of one another. They are fundamentally different.

We should also ask why some people become uncomfortable whenever the word Black appears in the name of an organization. Nobody questions why organizations identify themselves as veterans, women, business owners, farmers, Christians, or any number of other communities with shared interests and experiences. Yet when Black people organize around shared history and common challenges, some immediately view it as exclusionary. The reality is that Black organizations were often created because Black Americans were excluded from existing institutions. They were not built to keep people out. They were built because Black people had already been kept out.

In 1968, as America wrestled with Civil Rights protests, school integration, economic inequality, and demands for justice, James Brown released Say It Loud – I'm Black and I'm Proud. For some Americans, the song was controversial. For many Black Americans, it was liberating. For generations, Blackness had been associated with inferiority through laws, customs, stereotypes, and discrimination. Brown's message challenged that narrative. He declared that there was nothing wrong with being Black, nothing shameful about Black identity, and nothing radical about Black dignity. What some heard as militancy, many others experienced as affirmation.

Perhaps that is what continues to unsettle some people today. America has often been comfortable with Black achievement when it appears exceptional, isolated, or non-threatening. What has frequently generated resistance is Black self-determination, Black institution-building, Black political power, Black economic power, and Black pride. Yet there is nothing inherently threatening about a people refusing to be ashamed of who they are.

The same lack of historical understanding often appears when people criticize organizations such as the NAACP or the Coalition of Black Trade Unionists. Critics ask why the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People still uses the word "Colored" in its name. The answer is simple: history. The organization was founded in 1909, and "Colored" was widely used by Black leaders and organizations during that era. The NAACP retained its name because it reflects the conditions under which it was formed. The name itself serves as a reminder of the struggle that made the organization necessary in the first place.

Likewise, some question why the Coalition of Black Trade Unionists includes the word "Black" in its title. The answer once again is rooted in history. CBTU was founded in 1972 because Black workers often found themselves marginalized within the labor movement. While organized labor has played a critical role in advancing workers' rights, its history is not without flaws. Too often, Black workers were excluded from union membership, denied leadership opportunities, or pushed to the margins of labor organizations that claimed to represent all workers.

The existence of organizations like CBTU is not evidence that racism persists. Their continued necessity is. Black workers continue to experience disparities in hiring, promotions, executive leadership opportunities, wages, and representation throughout many industries. Until those disparities disappear, organizations dedicated to addressing them will continue to serve an important purpose. The same can be said for countless organizations representing women, veterans, people with disabilities, LGBTQIA+ communities, and other groups whose experiences have not always been reflected in mainstream institutions.

That history makes some people uncomfortable, but discomfort does not erase facts.

Many Americans have been taught a version of labor history that presents unions as unified champions of working people. The truth is more complicated. Some unions fought for justice and inclusion. Others actively excluded Black workers. Some local unions barred Black membership altogether. Others created segregated structures that reinforced the same racial barriers workers faced in broader society. Black workers frequently had to organize themselves because existing institutions either refused to represent them or represented them inadequately.

One of the most powerful examples was the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters under the leadership of A. Philip Randolph. Black railroad workers organized themselves because they understood that waiting for inclusion was not a strategy. It was a trap. They built power because they had been denied power. Their struggle helped lay the groundwork for future Civil Rights victories and demonstrated that economic justice and Civil Rights have always been intertwined.

The labor movement itself reflects this reality. Before the merger that created today's AFL-CIO, the labor movement was divided between the American Federation of Labor and the Congress of Industrial Organizations. The AFL traditionally focused on skilled trades, many of which excluded Black workers. The CIO took a broader approach to industrial organizing and often proved more open to organizing across racial lines. While neither organization was perfect, their eventual merger demonstrated an important lesson: workers become stronger when they confront their divisions rather than pretend they do not exist.

Black labor leaders understood this long before many institutions did. Leaders such as A. Philip Randolph organized Black workers because they recognized that waiting for inclusion was not a strategy. It was a trap. The Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters became one of the most important labor organizations in American history precisely because Black workers understood they would have to build power for themselves if they hoped to achieve justice.

As a Black trade unionist, I understand this history is not merely something found in textbooks. It remains relevant today. Throughout my years in organized labor, I have witnessed both the tremendous progress unions have made and the work that remains unfinished. Organizations such as CBTU continue to matter because they help ensure that Black workers are not merely present in labor spaces but are heard, respected, represented, and developed as leaders. That is not division. That is democracy.

And that is the point many people still miss today.

Black organizations were not created because Black people wanted separation. They were created because exclusion already existed. Black churches emerged because white churches often refused to welcome Black worshippers as equals. Historically Black colleges and universities emerged because traditional colleges denied Black students admission. Black civic organizations emerged because Black citizens were denied access to political influence. Black labor organizations emerged because Black workers were excluded from economic power. These institutions were not the cause of division. They were the response to division.

The demand that every Black institution, Black organization, or Black movement immediately broaden itself to avoid mentioning Black people reveals another misunderstanding. No one demanded that Black Americans stop being Black before pursuing justice. The goal was never to erase identity. The goal was to remove barriers. Black Power was not a request for special rights. It was a demand for equal rights, equal opportunity, and equal access to the promises America had already made.

Nobody asks Irish Americans why they celebrate being Irish. Nobody questions Italian Americans for celebrating Italian heritage. Nobody objects when people take pride in their military service, their faith, their profession, or their cultural background. Yet somehow Black pride has often been treated as suspect. The problem has never been Black pride. The problem has been a society that too often viewed Black dignity as a threat rather than a birthright.

That reality helps explain many of the debates we are having today. Across the country, we have witnessed attacks on Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Accessibility programs, efforts to restrict discussions about race and discrimination, challenges to voting rights protections, and attempts to sanitize difficult chapters of American history. Too often, these efforts are presented as neutrality when they are, in fact, attempts to avoid uncomfortable truths. A nation cannot solve problems it refuses to acknowledge. We do not strengthen America by teaching a less honest version of its history. We strengthen America by confronting its failures, learning from them, and ensuring they are not repeated.

There is a difference between teaching that America has struggled with racism and teaching that America is irredeemable. Those are not the same thing. In fact, one of the most patriotic acts a citizen can perform is to demand that the nation live up to its own ideals. The Civil Rights Movement did not reject the promise of America. It challenged America to fulfill it. Black Power emerged from that same tradition. It was not a rejection of democracy. It was a demand that democracy finally include everyone.

When people attempt to erase, minimize, or distort this history, they are not simply arguing about the past. They are shaping the future. If future generations are taught that Black organizations emerged for no reason, they will never understand the barriers that made them necessary. If they are taught that Black Power was merely anger rather than a call for self-determination, they will misunderstand one of the most important political and social movements of the twentieth century. History is not simply about what happened. It is about what we choose to remember and what we choose to forget.

As someone who has spent years working in Labor Rights, Civil Rights, Human Rights, voting rights advocacy, and community organizing, I have learned that progress does not happen because people become comfortable. Progress happens because ordinary people are willing to challenge injustice, tell the truth, and build power where power has been denied. Every right we enjoy today exists because someone before us organized, marched, voted, sacrificed, spoke out, and refused to accept the status quo.

That distinction matters.

The truth is that every major movement in American history has been a struggle over power. Workers sought power against corporations. Women sought power in a society that denied them the vote. People with disabilities sought power in a society that ignored their needs. LGBTQIA+ Americans sought power in institutions that denied their existence. The Civil Rights Movement sought power in a system that denied Black citizenship in practice, even when it existed on paper.

Black Power belongs in that tradition.

What unsettles some people is not the phrase itself. It is the reminder that power in America has never been distributed equally. The phrase forces us to confront uncomfortable questions about who has had access to opportunity, who has been excluded, and who continues to benefit from systems built long before many of us were born.

Black Power was never about taking something away from someone else. It was about securing what had long been denied. It was about ensuring that Black communities had the ability to shape their own futures, advocate for their own interests, and participate fully in American democracy.

That should not be controversial.

What should be controversial is the history that made such a movement necessary.

White Supremacy was the justification for slavery. White Supremacy was the justification for segregation. White Supremacy was the justification for denying voting rights. White Supremacy was the justification for excluding Black workers from opportunity. White Supremacy was the justification for treating citizenship as a privilege reserved for some and not others.

Black Power did not create those problems.

Black Power emerged because those problems already existed.

The real question is not why Black people built organizations, movements, churches, colleges, labor coalitions, and political structures to fight injustice.

The real question is why they had to.

Until America is willing to honestly confront that history, we will continue having the wrong conversation. We will continue debating the response while refusing to confront the disease.

Black Power was never the problem.

White Supremacy was.

And if we are honest with ourselves, in far too many places, it still is.

White Supremacy was the justification for slavery.

White Supremacy was the justification for segregation.

White Supremacy was the justification for denying voting rights.

White Supremacy was the justification for excluding Black workers from economic opportunity.

White Supremacy was the justification for redlining neighborhoods, underfunding schools, restricting access to political power, and deciding whose voice mattered and whose did not.

Black Power did not create those systems.

Black Power emerged because those systems already existed.

The real question is not why Black Americans organized.

The real question is why they were forced to.

The real question is why Black churches had to be created.

Why Historically Black Colleges and Universities had to be created.

Why the NAACP had to be created.

Why the Coalition of Black Trade Unionists had to be created.

Why Black political organizations, Black civic organizations, and Black advocacy organizations had to be created.

The answer is simple: because exclusion came first.

Until we are honest about that fact, we will continue debating the response while refusing to confront the cause.

Black Power was never the problem.

White Supremacy was.

And if we are willing to be honest, White Supremacy remains a challenge that America has not fully overcome.

Building Power is not about domination.

It is not about exclusion.

It is not about supremacy.

It is about ensuring that every community has the opportunity, resources, representation, and voice necessary to shape its own future.

That is what Black Power meant then.

That is what Black Power means now.

And that is why the conversation remains necessary.

Building Power. Defending Rights & Justice.