BlackVoter.Org

Our vote, our history, our future—stay informed, stay accountable, stay engaged.

Our Story, Under Attack: Black Studies Programs Are Disappearing

Let's talk about something that should concern all of us: African American Studies departments are shrinking across college campuses nationwide. Programs built during the Civil Rights era, born from student protests and decades of organizing, are being quietly defunded, merged into broader "diversity" umbrellas, or eliminated altogether. This isn't just about course catalogs. It's about whose history gets taught, whose scholars get funded, and whose stories survive for the next generation. We've seen this playbook before. Anytime Black communities gain ground in education, culture, or political power, there's pushback dressed up as budget cuts or "restructuring." Universities point to enrollment numbers or financial pressures, but let's be honest, these departments were fought for and won through decades of student activism, sit-ins, and hunger strikes. Losing them isn't a footnote. It's erasure. Here's what we can do. Contact your alma mater or local university's board of trustees and ask directly what's happening to their African American Studies program. Show up to town halls and board meetings. Support Black studies scholars, students, and departments financially and publicly. Push local and state legislators to protect funding for these programs, especially at public universities where budgets are shaped by political pressure. This is about legacy and accountability. Our ancestors fought for these seats at the table. We can't let them be quietly taken away while we're not watching. Stay informed, stay loud, and hold your institutions accountable. Our history is not negotiable, and neither is our presence in higher education.

$544M Owed to TSU: The Fight for Fair Funding We Cant Ignore

Let's talk about Tennessee State University—one of our nation's proudest historically Black land-grant institutions—and a fight that should make every one of us pay attention. The school's former president just dropped a book laying bare a battle most folks don't know about: a documented $544 million in underfunding that TSU never received from the state of Tennessee. Let that number sink in. Half a billion dollars. That's not a rounding error—that's decades of resources our HBCUs were owed and denied. This isn't just TSU's story. It's the story of land-grant HBCUs across the South, institutions built during Jim Crow to educate Black students when white universities slammed the door, only to be starved of the very funding promised to them under federal law. Here's why this matters right now: representation isn't just about who sits in office—it's about whether the institutions shaping our future get what they're owed. When our universities are shortchanged, our students pay the price. Fewer resources. Fewer opportunities. A legacy of inequality dressed up as bureaucracy. So what do we do with this? We hold our state legislators accountable. We ask hard questions about HBCU funding in our own states. We show up to school board and higher education meetings. We vote for leaders who will fight for equitable funding, not just talk about it. This former president didn't stay silent—she wrote the book, literally. Now it's on us to keep the pressure on. Register. Vote. Demand answers. Our institutions deserve nothing less than full and fair funding.

Show Us the Receipts: Why Is El-Sayed Paying to Pray for Black Votes

Let's talk about something that should raise every eyebrow in our community: pay for pray politics. Michigan Senate candidate Abdul El-Sayed is set to appear at a "clergy round table" this week alongside a Black Detroit pastor, one his campaign has quietly paid $82,500 for "strategic consulting." Read that again. Money changing hands behind closed doors, then a public photo-op designed to look like organic faith community support. This isn't new. For generations, our churches and pastors have been treated as a shortcut to Black votes, courted with cash instead of real commitment to our neighborhoods, our schools, our economic future. The Black church has always been a pillar of civic power, born out of struggle, built on trust. That trust shouldn't be for sale, and it shouldn't be quietly bought by campaigns looking to check a box on "community engagement." Here's what we need to ask: What has this candidate actually done for Black Detroiters? What's the platform beyond the photo op? Representation means nothing without accountability, and legacy isn't built on transactions, it's built on trust earned over time. So here's our call to action, family. Don't just show up because a pastor tells you to. Ask questions. Demand transparency from campaigns paying for access to our community leaders. Research candidates yourself. Register to vote if you haven't. Show up to town halls. Hold every candidate, regardless of party, accountable to us, not just our attention. Our vote is sacred. Let's make sure it's never for sale.

Masterpiece-level photorealistic 1964 Freedom Summer classroom inside a Mississippi church, Black children sitting at wooden desks learning American history, voting rights and civic participation from young civil rights volunteers, maps of Mississippi on

Young vs Old: The Fight for Black Political Power Is Just Beginning

Family, we need to talk about a shift happening right in front of us. A new Axios report shows young Black voters are pushing back against the old guard of Black Democratic leadership, and it's exposing a real generational divide inside the party we've long called home. Take Michigan's Democratic Senate primary. Rep. Jim Clyburn, 86, a civil rights icon who helped save Biden's campaign in 2020, threw his weight behind a preferred candidate. But younger Black voters weren't having it. They wanted their own voice, their own choice, not a hand-me-down endorsement from a leader whose formative political battles happened before many of them were born. This isn't about disrespecting the sacrifices of leaders like Clyburn. It's about recognizing that our community isn't a monolith. The issues facing a 25-year-old Black voter in Detroit today, student debt, housing costs, policing, climate anxiety, aren't identical to the ones that shaped politics in the 1960s and 70s. Our elders built the road. Now younger folks want a say in where it leads next. Here's why this matters for us: representation isn't just about race, it's about generation, lived experience, and whose priorities get centered. If we want our political power to grow instead of stagnate, we need both wisdom and fresh energy at the table. So here's your move. Get engaged locally. Show up to town halls. Ask candidates, young and old, what they're actually doing for you right now. Register to vote if you haven't. Mentor someone younger into civic life. Our legacy depends on every generation showing up.

Big Duck Smith's Legacy Marches On Honor Him by Showing Up

We lost a giant this week. Jerome "Big Duck" Smith passed away Friday, August 21, at 87, after a battle with cancer. If that name doesn't ring a bell, it should. Big Duck wasn't a politician chasing headlines — he was a foot soldier, a Freedom Rider who put his body on the line during the most dangerous days of the civil rights movement in the Deep South. He faced down violence in Mississippi and Louisiana, and famously stood toe-to-toe with Attorney General Robert Kennedy in 1963, telling him the truth about what Black folks were really enduring while Washington dragged its feet. That moment helped push the Kennedy administration toward action on civil rights. Big Duck spent his life afterward building institutions — most notably the Tambourine and Fan youth program in New Orleans, mentoring generations of young people and keeping the movement's spirit alive through culture, music, and community. His passing is a reminder: the freedoms we exercise today — the right to vote, to organize, to speak truth to power — were paid for by people like him who refused to stay silent. Don't let that sacrifice fade into a footnote. Honor it by staying engaged. Register to vote. Check your registration status today. Show up to your local school board and city council meetings. Mentor a young person in your community the way Big Duck did. Legacy isn't just remembered — it's continued. Rest in power, Big Duck. We'll carry it forward.

Civil rights groups make urgent plea for voting rights in DC, ahead of midterm elections

This Friday, thousands of us will gather on the National Mall in Washington, and it matters more than ever. Voting rights and racial justice advocates are rallying ahead of the midterms, standing up against a troubling wave of new voting laws and redistricting maps that civil rights groups say are hitting Black communities the hardest. Let's be real: this isn't new. We've seen this playbook before. Every time our political power grows, there's a push to weaken it. Restrictive voting laws, gerrymandered districts drawn to dilute our voices, longer lines at polling places in our neighborhoods — these aren't accidents. They're strategy. And they demand our attention now, not after the election is over. Friday's rally is a reminder that our ancestors marched, organized, and sacrificed so we could have a say in who represents us. That legacy isn't just history — it's a responsibility we carry today. Showing up, whether on the Mall or at your local ballot box, is how we honor it. So here's what we're asking: check your voter registration status today. Confirm your polling location. Know your rights before you head to vote — bring ID if required, know your early voting options, and don't let confusion or intimidation keep you home. And don't stop there. Call your local and state representatives. Ask what they're doing to protect access to the ballot in your community. Accountability starts with us asking the hard questions and refusing to accept silence as an answer. Midterms shape school boards, city councils, and state legislatures — the decisions that touch our daily lives. Register. Vote. Hold them accountable. Our voice, our power.

Our Recession Is Already Here Now Lets Talk Accountability

Let's be honest with each other: while pundits debate whether America is heading into a recession, Black America is already living in one. That's the sobering word from the National Urban League, and it's not new territory for us — it's history repeating itself. Time and again, when the economy stumbles, Black families fall first and hardest. Higher unemployment. Fewer safety nets. Less generational wealth to fall back on. This isn't bad luck — it's the predictable result of policy choices, discrimination, and disinvestment that have shaped our communities for generations. We've survived Reconstruction's broken promises, the Great Depression's brutal impact, and the 2008 crash that gutted Black homeownership. Each time, we rebuilt. But rebuilding shouldn't be our only option — prevention and protection should be, too. Here's the truth: economic justice is a civil rights issue. Who gets elected — from city council to Congress — determines whether resources flow into our neighborhoods or bypass them entirely. It determines whether small Black-owned businesses get support or get left behind. So what do we do? We show up. Register to vote if you haven't. Check your registration status now — don't wait until October. Show up to city council meetings where budgets get decided. Ask your local leaders what they're doing about Black unemployment and economic disparity. Support Black-owned businesses in your community. We've weathered storms before, and we know how to organize, mobilize, and demand better. Our economic survival has always been tied to our political power. Let's use it. Register. Vote. Hold them accountable. Our future depends on it.

The stories in this issue aren't abstract. They're about whether HBCUs stay funded, whether our history stays taught, whether our vote stays protected, and whether our economic pain gets named and addressed. Every one of these fights has the same solution: us, showing up.

Register. Check your status. Vote in every election, not just the big ones. Midterms decide who controls the purse strings for HBCU funding, who sits on school boards deciding if African American Studies survives, and who fights for DC's voting rights on the Hill. Local races often move faster than national ones—don't skip them.

Call your representatives this week. Ask where they stand on HBCU land-grant funding equity. Ask why DC still doesn't have full voting representation. Make them go on record.

Hold your local leaders accountable. If a candidate is buying access to Black clergy instead of earning trust in our communities, say something. Ask questions. Demand transparency, not transactions.

Support Black institutions directly. Donate to your local HBCU. Show up for African American Studies programs before they disappear. Attend a second line, a town hall, a school board meeting—presence is power.

We've survived worse odds by organizing, showing up, and refusing to be invisible. That legacy doesn't maintain itself—it needs us, today, doing the work.

Register. Vote. Show up. Hold the line.