Why So Many Black Men Are Trapped in a Cycle—and How We Can Break Free
Growing up in St. Louis, Missouri, felt like being stuck in a black hole. For many of us, the biggest goal we could imagine was just graduating high school. There wasn’t much vision beyond that—no clear paths, no examples of what success could look like, especially for young Black men like me. I didn’t see successful Black men around me, and because of that, I couldn’t see what success could look like for myself. I spent a lot of time trying to find where I belonged, but without a sense of identity, I felt lost. This is a struggle I know too many of us face in underprivileged and low-income areas.
One of the biggest challenges I dealt with was my mindset. I grew up with a closed, poor mindset—one that made it hard to embrace new experiences or opportunities. My world felt small, limited by poverty and the circumstances around me. But there was a lifeline: a leadership program that allowed me to attend a summer camp each year. For the first time, I got to experience things I never thought I’d see. Those moments helped me begin to form an identity beyond the limits of my upbringing.
Even so, it took years to break out of that mindset. Even after traveling with the Marine Corps, I still found myself associating with people who had low aspirations and identities. It wasn’t until I entered the world of entrepreneurship that things began to shift. For the first time, I started networking with people who had high visions and strong identities. But that transition wasn’t easy. Imposter syndrome held me back, and I struggled to believe I deserved to be part of those spaces. I resisted even the simplest personal development tools, like reading books or journaling. Deep down, I knew these things could help me grow, but old habits and beliefs are hard to break.
What finally changed for me was understanding two powerful truths. First, your net worth is directly tied to your network. If you’re surrounded by people with low aspirations, your potential will always be capped. Second, your income only grows to the extent that you do. That hit me hard. I realized that if I wanted more for myself—mentally, financially, and creatively—I had to grow as a person. It was uncomfortable at first, but I started reading, journaling, and waking up earlier to set my intentions for the day. Slowly but surely, my perspective began to shift.
Now, looking back, I see so many people in St. Louis still stuck in the same patterns. They’re living the same lives, thinking the same way, as they were twelve years ago when we graduated high school. It’s heartbreaking, but it also reminds me why I do what I do today.
The work we need to do in the Black community is deep. It’s not just about breaking financial barriers; it’s about breaking mental ones. We need to show the next generation what’s possible, give them examples of success, and challenge them to grow beyond what they’ve been told is achievable. If we want to build a future of mental, creative, and financial freedom, it starts with us—doing the uncomfortable work, growing ourselves, and creating opportunities for others to do the same.
