The Racial Scars That Don’t Belong to You
Black Americans have long faced well-documented challenges in the world of business, challenges that continue into the present day. From redlining and discriminatory lending practices to the quiet, systemic roadblocks that still haunt modern entrepreneurship, the data speaks for itself.
According to the Federal Reserve, Black business owners are significantly less likely to receive financing from banks or credit unions, even when credit profiles are identical to white counterparts. On average, Black-owned businesses start with about one-third the capital that white-owned businesses do. And in the venture capital space, Black founders receive less than 1% of all funding annually. These aren’t opinions; these are facts grounded in economic analysis and federal data. I don’t need a spreadsheet to believe this, I lived it, I get it!
I’ve started two businesses in my lifetime. In both cases, I approached financial institutions for lines of credit or startup loans. I had a plan, a clear sense of what I was building, and the resolve to make it work. What I didn’t have was institutional support. The banks said no, flat out. No funding. No flexibility. No door opened.
And yet, I built them anyway.
Was it fair? Of course not. But I never allowed that denial to breed resentment toward white people, or any other group of people. I understood that some systems are stacked, yes, but I also understood that hatred is a form of surrender. And I wasn’t about to hand my energy over to bitterness.
What many won’t say out loud, but I will, is this: not every injustice is racial. Some are about power. Some are about favoritism. Some are about class, legacy, and gatekeeping. I’ve traveled to other countries and seen the same kind of systemic failure, between Asian communities in Southeast Asia, and within Latino populations south of the USA. I have interviewed African women and men from Africa who have made very similar assessments. Although one gentleman made the following statement to me, “I did not know that I was black until I came to America, I am African!” He is originally from Kenya.
The face of oppression might change, but its fingerprints are everywhere. What we’re really witnessing isn’t just racism, it’s a broader, deeper failure of mankind to honor one another.
That failure has far-reaching consequences. It shows up in broken communities, in wasted talent, in mistrust that becomes generational. And here in the U.S., it’s often wrapped in the language of race, which makes it even harder to untangle from politics and emotion.
But here’s what I know: You and I can still choose to be different. Hundreds of individuals long gone, or here in the present have done just that.
You can build what others say you can’t. You can be the kind of business owner, leader, or neighbor who refuses to return prejudice with prejudice, bigotry with bigotry. And if you’ve suffered under systems that are unfair, use that as your fire, but not the fuel for hatred.
I can’t fix the world, but I can be the kind of man who stands against the excuses, against the blame, and against the soft bigotry of low expectations. I can work. I can help others work. And I can live in a way that demands dignity, not from a system, but from myself.
In my humble opinion, the best thing you can do in the face of this cultural failure is make a difference. You don’t have to live a life trying to rise above our societal shortcomings. Live as though you fulfill a purpose and then go make it happen.
Don’t live your life through the scars that do not belong to you. Being kind, help others when you can, don’t quit, admire strength, embrace humility and honor your neighbor. At the end of the day, you will have had a positive affect on hundreds of people, perhaps thousands!
I love this song!
Statistics that are readily found on the internet
Federal Reserve Small Business Credit Survey (2021–2022)
Black-owned firms were least likely to receive all the financing they sought.
Only 43% of Black-owned firms received full PPP loans, compared to 79% of white-owned firms.
Black-owned firms are more likely to be categorized as “high credit risk,” even with similar financials.
McKinsey & Company Building supportive ecosystems for Black-owned US businesses (2020)
Black entrepreneurs start with an average of $35,000 in capital, compared to $107,000 for white entrepreneurs.
Black business owners are three times more likely to report personal funds as the only source of startup capital.
Brookings Institution To expand the economy, invest in Black businesses (2020)
Black entrepreneurs receive less than 1% of venture capital annually.
Only 1% of Black-owned businesses have employees, compared to 20% of white-owned firms.