The estate of Earl “DMX” Simmons is opposing a planned posthumous ordination ceremony. The ceremony has not been formally recognized or sanctioned, according to an exclusive statement provided to AllHipHop.
The Estate of Earl “DMX” Simmons has rejected a recent tribute and denied official authorization for an event hoping to ordain the late rapper as a minister. They issued a formal statement stating that a planned ceremony commemorating the late Hip-Hop icon’s posthumous ordination as a minister is neither sanctioned nor supported by the Estate. The explanation comes as there is rising interest in a service originally scheduled for Saturday, January 10, 2026, at Foster Memorial A.M.E. Zion Church in Tarrytown, but has since been relocated to Christ Episcopal Church.
In a statement shared exclusively with AllHipHop, the Estate addressed the matter directly.
“The upcoming ordination of Earl ‘DMX’ Simmons is not an Estate-sanctioned event. While we appreciate third-party efforts to honor Earl in this way, neither the Foster Memorial A.M.E. Zion Church nor Bishop Imhotep are among the representatives of the church with whom he had close ties.” — The Estate of Earl “DMX” Simmons
DMX’s former publicist, Domenick Nati, reached out to Black Westchester regarding the decision to posthumously ordain DMX as a minister. While DMX was always open about his faith, Domenick believes there’s an important distinction to be made: celebrating DMX’s spirituality is one thing — formally ordaining him after his death is another.
“This seems weird. If DMX wanted to be ordained as a minister, he would have done it when he was alive. It’s not that hard to do. Doing it after his death comes off more like a publicity stunt from the church than something rooted in his actual intentions.” Domenick shared with Black Westchester.
Black Westchester also received calls from local church leaders questioning who authorized the ordination. The AME Zion Church confirmed with Black Westchester that it is not sanctioned by the denomination, which led to the relocation of the ceremony.
Bishop Dr. Osiris Imhotep of The Gospel Cultural Center, who has been linked to the event, hailed it as a recognition of DMX’s public professions of religion. He emphasized the rapper’s long-standing relationship with prayer, scripture, and religious reflection.
The Gospel Cultural Center expressed that the ceremony was a symbolic spiritual gesture rather than an official ecclesiastical appointment. However, as word spreads about the ceremony, the Estate emphasizes the importance of boundaries. Celebrating DMX’s faith is OK, but doing it without permission enters problematic territory.
“With the support of his mother and family, we are moving forward to ensure his spiritual life is recognized in the community he called home,” Bishop Imhotep shared with Black Westchester. “This gathering is strictly non-commercial. There are no ticket sales or fundraising efforts associated with this event. The service will include prayer, scripture, musical reflections, and community testimony.
The service will be held at Christ Episcopal Church, located at 43 S Broadway in Tarrytown, on Saturday, January 10th, from 3-5 pm.
While it isn’t clear why the location has changed, the service is now scheduled to take place at Christ Episcopal Church, located at 43 S Broadway in Tarrytown, at the same time on Saturday, January 10, 2026.
This event, led by the Gospel Cultural Center, formally acknowledges the divine calling he fulfilled through spoken-word prayers on his albums, turning his pain into a public testament to his faith.
“Earl Simmons wrestled with God in the public square, turning his pain into a ministry of raw truth,” said Bishop Dr. Osiris Imhotep, founder of the Gospel Cultural Center. “This ordination recognizes the divine calling he fulfilled every time he spoke a prayer into a microphone”.
A meaningful tribute to the spiritual impact he left on generations.
Keep it real with us now, I wanna feel show me how (Please!) Let me take yo’ hand, guide me (What!) I’ll walk slow but stay right beside me (Please!) Devil’s tryna find me (Please) Hide me, Hold up, I take that back Protect me and give me the strength to fight back! (Lord give me a sign!)
DMX famously included a sincere prayer on nearly every one of his studio albums, showcasing his deep Christian faith amidst his gritty music, with tracks like “Prayer (Skit)” on “It’s Dark and Hell Is Hot” released in 1998, “Prayer III” on And Then There Was X” released in 1999, “Ready to Meet Him” (also known as “Prayer II”) on Flesh of My Flesh, Blood of My Blood” the second album released in 1998, “Prayer IV” and “A Minute for Your Son” on “The Great Depression” released in 2001, “Prayer V” on “Grand Champ” released in 2003, and “Lord Give Me a Sign” on “Year of the Dog… Again” released in 2006, serving as raw, vulnerable pleas for guidance and redemption, contrasting his tough persona with his spiritual journey. These prayers highlighted his struggles, his belief in God, and his hope for salvation, becoming a signature part of his artistic legacy.
He would often break into prayer on stage or in interviews, a signature move that highlighted his deep spiritual connection and desire for grace.
His lyrics often explored the internal fight between his faith and temptation, frequently referencing his struggles with addiction in the Damien Trilogy
“Damien” is the introduction and Part 1 of the story. It is one of the best songs off of his classic debut “It’s Dark and Hell is Hot’.
“The Omen ft Marilyn Manson” is part 2 of the story and features the Antichrist Superstar himself, who is a perfect character for this story. This one is from X’s Sophomore album ‘Flesh of My Flesh, Blood of my Blood”.
“Damien 3” is the last one he’s dropped in this series. It is from his album ‘The Great Depression’. This one has more upbeat production but still feels as evil as ever.
DMX’s spiritual journey was a powerful testament to the grace of God for sinners, showing that faith could coexist alongside profound struggle, making him a unique spiritual voice in Hip-Hop.
Earl “DMX” Simmons was originally appointed Deacon in 2012 at Morning Star Baptist Church in Phoenix.
EVENT DETAILS: Christ Episcopal Church, located at 43 S Broadway in Tarrytown
EVENT: Posthumous Ordination of Minister Earl “DMX” Simmons
DATE: Saturday, January 10, 2026
TIME: 3:00 PM
LOCATION: Christ Episcopal Church, 43 S Broadway, Tarrytown
When Donald Trump announced support for limiting large institutional investors from buying single-family homes, the key question for readers interested in housing equity is: Will this policy change outcomes for Black homeownership and market fairness?
For Black America, housing policy has rarely failed because of a lack of good intentions. It has failed because it ignored how markets actually work, often perpetuating inequities that matter deeply to the community.
Homeownership remains the most accessible wealth-building tool for families in the U.S., yet Black homeownership at roughly 44 to 46 percent highlights ongoing disparities that affect market fairness and economic opportunity.
At the same time, the cost of entry into the housing market has exploded. The average U.S. home price now exceeds $400,000, and in many metro areas the so-called “starter home” has disappeared entirely. At those prices, a traditional down payment alone can approach $80,000. Mortgage rates, insurance, taxes, and maintenance only add to the burden. For families with limited savings and less access to capital — a condition that still disproportionately affects Black Americans — the margin for error is thin.
Into that environment stepped large institutional investors. Armed with cash, speed, and scale, they entered the single-family housing market not to build communities, but to acquire assets. They can outbid first-time buyers, waive contingencies, and close quickly. The result is not mysterious. Homes that once served families are now converted into long-term rentals. Equity accumulates at the top. Rent flows upward. Neighborhoods become tenant corridors rather than ownership communities.
This is not a moral argument. It is a market outcome.
Trump’s proposal, stripped of political branding, attempts to change that outcome by changing incentives. Limiting or banning large investors from buying single-family homes offers a tangible way to restore ownership opportunities and inspire collective action.
For Black Americans, that matters because wealth is not built solely through programs. It is built through assets. Renting does not build equity. Ownership does. If institutions absorb fewer homes and families purchase more, the long-term effect is not just lower competition at the point of sale, but a shift in where appreciation and stability accumulate.
Critics point out that institutional investors own a relatively small share of total single-family homes nationwide. That may be true in aggregate, but housing markets are local, not national. Investors concentrate in growth markets — often the same cities and suburbs where Black first-time buyers are trying to enter. A small national share can still have a significant local impact, especially at the margins where affordability is already strained.
While increasing supply takes years, changing incentives can happen immediately, making policy adjustments like limiting institutional investors a timely way to improve access for Black families.
None of this guarantees success. Definitions will matter. Enforcement will matter. A policy riddled with loopholes or easily bypassed through shell companies will change nothing. And no housing policy can substitute for creditworthiness, income stability, or personal responsibility. Economics does not reward intentions; it rewards preparation.
But the premise itself deserves serious consideration. For decades, Black Americans were offered housing “solutions” that emphasized assistance over ownership and dependency over equity. This proposal, by contrast, focuses on structure rather than sentiment. It asks who should be allowed to compete for a finite resource and on what terms.
The ultimate test will not be rhetoric or resistance. It will be results. If Black homeownership rises, neighborhoods are preserved, and families build equity, then the policy will have succeeded — regardless of who proposed it.
And if those outcomes do not materialize, no amount of political messaging will change that reality.
Markets respond to incentives. Change the incentives, and outcomes change. That is the standard by which this proposal should be judged, especially by a community that has paid the price for policies that sounded good but delivered little.
For decades, Black America has followed federal nutrition advice and still ended up with the worst health outcomes in the nation. Higher rates of diabetes. Higher rates of hypertension. Higher rates of heart disease. Higher rates of obesity. And shorter life expectancy to show for it.
So when the U.S. government quietly announced a major reset of its dietary guidance in early 2026, the question wasn’t whether the food pyramid changed — it was why it took this long, and whether this shift will actually help the communities most harmed by the old advice.
The new Dietary Guidelines for Americans, issued by the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services and the U.S. Department of Agriculture, move away from a model that failed many, and this shift should inspire hope that real change is possible.
The new message is blunt: eat real food, avoid ultra-processed products, cut sugar aggressively, and stop pretending refined carbs are the foundation of a healthy diet.
That admission matters — especially for Black America.
The Old Pyramid Failed Us
The old food pyramid, and later MyPlate, were built around cheap calories: refined grains, low-fat processed foods, sugar-heavy products, and government-subsidized commodities. These recommendations didn’t land equally across America. Wealthier communities could “interpret” the guidance with organic produce and lean proteins. Poorer and working-class Black communities got corner stores, dollar menus, and shelves stacked with ultra-processed food.
We were told to fear fat, fear meat, and trust “heart-healthy” labels slapped on foods that quietly fueled insulin resistance, inflammation, and metabolic disease. The result? A nutrition policy that looked neutral on paper but produced racially unequal outcomes in real life.
Black Americans didn’t fail the system. The system failed Black Americans.
What’s Actually Different Now
The new guidelines do something rare in Washington: they acknowledge reality.
The new guidelines explicitly address structural barriers by emphasizing affordable, accessible whole foods, which is crucial for Black communities facing food deserts and economic challenges.
If followed correctly, this guidance aligns far better with what Black communities need: stable blood sugar, reduced inflammation, better metabolic health, and fewer diet-driven illnesses.
But here’s the uncomfortable truth: guidelines don’t heal people — access does.
Why This Could Still Miss Black America
Telling people to eat “real food” while flooding their neighborhoods with ultra-processed products can feel dismissive; acknowledging these barriers helps Black America feel understood and supported.
Worse, without targeted policy reforms-like expanding SNAP benefits for fresh produce and funding community food programs — federal efforts risk perpetuating disparities and leaving Black children behind.
There’s also risk in the messaging. Encouraging more protein and fats without clear guidance can backfire in communities already burdened by cardiovascular disease. This is not about pushing bacon and burgers. It’s about quality food, not louder slogans.
The Real Opportunity
This moment is bigger than a graphic redesign.
If the government is serious, this reset should come with:
• Investment in grocery access in Black neighborhoods
• Support for Black farmers and food entrepreneurs
• Nutrition education that respects culture instead of shaming it
• Federal programs that prioritize quality over volume
• Honest accountability for decades of failed nutrition policy
Black America doesn’t need another lecture about personal responsibility. We need policies that stop subsidizing sickness and start supporting health.
The Bottom Line
The U.S. finally admitted what many Black families have known for years: the old food advice wasn’t working. The new pyramid is a step in the right direction — but only a step.
If this change is treated as a media moment rather than a structural shift, Black health outcomes will remain where they are. If it’s paired with access, affordability, and accountability, it could mark the beginning of something rare in public policy: a correction that actually saves lives.
One of the curiosities of modern American politics is not what is debated, but what is carefully avoided. Reparations is one such subject. Today’s Democrats speak of it cautiously, often burying the issue beneath studies, commissions, and symbolic gestures. At the same time, many modern Black Republicans dismiss reparations outright, treating them as a Democratic invention rooted in victimhood politics. Both positions ignore an inconvenient historical fact: reparations were originally a Republican idea, openly argued for and fought over during Reconstruction, which underscores its legitimacy and importance.
In the years immediately following the Civil War, the Republican Party was not debating whether formerly enslaved people deserved assistance. The debate was whether the nation could remain stable without compensating millions of people whose unpaid labor had helped build it. Republican lawmakers understood something modern politics prefers not to say plainly: freedom without an economic foundation is fragile.
That understanding was not theoretical. Republican leaders such as Thaddeus Stevens argued on the floor of Congress that land confiscated from former Confederates should be redistributed to formerly enslaved people. His reasoning was neither sentimental nor ideological. It was practical. A population released from bondage with no assets, no land, and no capital would predictably fall into dependency or renewed exploitation. Stevens was not arguing for sympathy. He was arguing for stability.
Black Republicans shared this view. Decades later, Black Republican organizers such as Callie House led the Ex-Slave Pension Movement, petitioning Congress for federal pensions modeled after those paid to Civil War veterans. This was one of the most significant mass political movements led by Black Americans at the turn of the twentieth century. It failed not because its logic was weak, but because Black political leverage had been systematically dismantled after Reconstruction.
That logic did not disappear with Reconstruction. Even during the Civil Rights era, the argument resurfaced—though history often remembers it selectively. Martin Luther King Jr. is frequently reduced to a harmless dreamer, sometimes even recast as a “safe” Black conservative. Yet in his most famous speech, King framed America’s promise as a promissory note—one written to Black Americans and returned marked “insufficient funds.” This was an economic critique, emphasizing that civil rights without material repair would leave inequality structurally intact.
The United States has paid restitution to multiple ethnic and national groups when political will existed. Japanese Americans received direct payments and a formal apology under the Civil Liberties Act of 1988. Native American tribes received land settlements and financial compensation through treaty claims and court rulings. Alaska Natives received land and monetary restitution under the Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act. In none of these cases were recipients required to demonstrate cultural readiness or moral worthiness before compensation. The principle was straightforward: acknowledging a wrong and providing a settlement is a matter of justice and fairness, which should also apply to reparations for Black Americans.
It is also worth noting that Jewish survivors received restitution and reparative benefits from the United States itself, even though Germany, not America, carried out the Holocaust. The U.S. facilitated restitution, returned seized assets, supported refugee resettlement, and administered compensation programs domestically through organizations such as the Claims Conference. Jewish Americans did not need to prove U.S. culpability in Germany’s crimes to receive restitution here. The standard applied was responsibility to protect and remedy harm suffered by people under U.S. jurisdiction, not geographic proximity to the original offense.
Reparations resurfaced again during the Black Power era and later in the early 1990s. In both cases, it failed for familiar reasons. During the Black Power period, the emphasis shifted toward rhetoric, symbolism, and moral urgency without sustained institutional leverage. In the 1990s, Black scholars and authors revisited reparations with serious economic and legal arguments. Yet by then, Black voters had become a reliable constituency rather than a negotiated one. Democrats, secure in electoral loyalty, faced little incentive to advance a politically risky policy. Votes were given; leverage was surrendered. Reparations were acknowledged rhetorically and avoided legislatively.
This pattern explains the modern dilemma. Democrats evade reparations because they face little political cost for doing so. Many Black Republicans dismiss it to signal ideological distance from Democrats—even when that dismissal contradicts their own political ancestry. In both cases, the outcome is identical: debts are deferred, not settled.
The modern media economy further distorts the situation. A growing number of Black conservative influencers portray reparations as a Democratic tool of victimhood. Rarely discussed are the financial and ideological incentives shaping these narratives. Wealthy donor networks—often aligned with pro-Israel political advocacy—have invested heavily in conservative media spaces. Within that ecosystem, dismissing reparations functions less as historical analysis and more as a loyalty signal.
Influencers like Xaviaer DuRousseau operate within a well-funded conservative media ecosystem — including institutions such as PragerU — that is sustained by large donors, foundations, and ideological networks with strong pro-Israel priorities. Within this ecosystem, narratives opposing Black American reparations are routinely amplified and framed as “personal responsibility” or “anti-victimhood,” while far less scrutiny is applied to the billions of U.S. taxpayer dollars sent annually to Israel, or to the fact that Israel itself was founded through international reparative support following World War II. The contradiction is striking: Black Americans are told restitution is divisive or unnecessary, yet foreign aid, military funding, and historic reparations for other groups are treated as moral obligations that must not be questioned. This selective logic reveals that the issue is not opposition to reparations as a principle, but which groups are deemed worthy of repair — and which histories are politically convenient to dismiss.
The irony is difficult to ignore. The United States sends billions of taxpayer dollars each year to Israel with little debate about the feasibility or moral hazard. Yet when the discussion turns to reparations for Black Americans—whose exploitation occurred on U.S. soil, under U.S. law, enriching the American state—the objections suddenly multiply. Too divisive. Too complicated. Too unrealistic. Standards that rarely apply elsewhere become decisive only here.
None of this suggests that reparations should replace responsibility, family, or self-discipline. Early Black Republicans never argued that. Neither did King. Reparations were never intended to substitute for independence; they were meant to make independence possible.
A policy born in Republican thought, echoed in the Civil Rights era, and reinforced by repeated American precedent, is now treated as politically radioactive by both parties. Democrats avoid it. Black Republicans deny it. Influencers distort it. Meanwhile, restitution remains acceptable everywhere—except at home.
History does not disappear because it is ignored.
It simply waits—until leverage returns.
References & Historical Sources
Reconstruction & Republican Reparations Framework
Thaddeus Stevens, speeches and congressional debates on land redistribution (U.S. Congressional Globe, 1865–1867)
Special Field Orders No. 15 (1865) – U.S. War Department (Sherman’s “40 acres” order)
Freedmen’s Bureau records and legislation (1865–1872)
Black Republican Reparations Movements
Callie House and the National Ex-Slave Mutual Relief, Bounty and Pension Association
Mary Frances Berry, My Face Is Black Is True: Callie House and the Struggle for Ex-Slave Reparations (2005)
Civil Rights Era & Economic Justice
Martin Luther King Jr., I Have a Dream speech (1963) — “promissory note” and “bad check” passages
Martin Luther King Jr., Where Do We Go from Here: Chaos or Community? (1967)
The Poor People’s Campaign (1968)
U.S. Reparations to Other Groups
Civil Liberties Act of 1988 — Japanese American internment reparations
Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act
Indian Claims Commission decisions and federal treaty settlements
Jewish Restitution & U.S. Role
Claims Conference (Conference on Jewish Material Claims Against Germany)
U.S. Holocaust Refugee and Restitution policies (post–World War II)
Following recent public discussion about Mount Vernon’s finances, City Comptroller Darren M. Morton submitted a January 6, 2026, letter to Black Westchester to clarify the record regarding the City’s fiscal progress. That clarification is necessary, not as a rebuttal, but as an essential accounting of what has actually been accomplished — and under what conditions.
To fairly evaluate Mount Vernon’s current financial position, it is essential to begin with context.
When Comptroller Morton took office in 2022, he did not inherit a functioning financial system. He inherited years of unresolved audits, incomplete records, and institutional breakdown. Before addressing the fiscal years tied to his own elected term, he was required to complete the outstanding audits left undone under former Comptroller Deborah Reynolds.
That reality shaped everything that followed. Completing audits for fiscal years 2016 through 2020 — and filing the five corresponding State Annual Financial Reports — was not optional work; it was prerequisite work. Without resolving that backlog, the City could not move forward in any meaningful or compliant way.
Measured against that starting point, the concrete achievements under Comptroller Morton demonstrate tangible progress in restoring fiscal stability. Five audits have been completed and five AFRs filed. Financial policies are now in place. Three tax lien sales have been completed, and the In Rem foreclosure process has been initiated. These are not promises. They are actions.
Progress Under Constraint
It is also essential to understand why the City is not yet fully current.
Audits must be completed sequentially, and reconstructing records across agencies is labor-intensive, highlighting structural constraints rather than neglect.
Comptroller Morton has acknowledged that the City is not yet where it needs to be. But emphasizing the progress made can inspire confidence that positive change is underway, even amid challenges.
A History That Cannot Be Ignored
Credit where it is due also requires honesty about the broader institutional history.
Mount Vernon’s financial challenges are not the result of a single office or administration. They reflect a longstanding pattern of dysfunction across multiple parts of the City government.
That dysfunction spans the unresolved audit failures under former Comptroller Deborah Reynolds, the fiscal instability and governance issues during the administration of former Mayor Richard Thomas, and ongoing questions surrounding spending decisions under current Mayor Shawyn Patterson-Howard.
A critical and often overlooked factor in sustaining fiscal progress is the competence of departmental leadership. Even the strongest financial plans fail without commissioners who understand structure, staffing, and cost controls. In Mount Vernon, this challenge is compounded by a long political history of appointments driven more by nepotism, favoritism, and personal loyalty than by demonstrated competence. That culture weakens internal controls and allows overtime abuse, poor manpower allocation, and budget drift to become normalized. Sustainable fiscal recovery requires commissioners selected for their ability to manage operations, control costs, and execute policy — not for their political usefulness. Without that shift, progress made at the comptroller level will continue to be undermined inside city departments.
Comptroller Morton’s work must be evaluated within that reality. He did not create the conditions, he inherited it. He has been tasked with repairing them.
The Real Test Going Forward
The question now is not whether progress has been made. It has.
The real question is whether that progress can be sustained, completed, and institutionalized over time.
Rebuilding a city’s financial integrity is not a single event. It requires alignment across every level of government. It requires a Mayor who governs with an executive, taxpayer-first mindset. It requires commissioners who remain disciplined to the budget over time, resisting unnecessary and off-track spending. And it requires a City Council that legislates responsibly and exercises consistent oversight.
This work is measured over time — through completed audits, reliable financial reporting, enforceable policies, and consistent execution. By those metrics, Mount Vernon must move forward and govern accordingly, or it risks ending up in the same position as the school board.
Recognizing progress does not require ignoring remaining risk. But dismissing progress simply because the finish line has not yet been crossed would be intellectually dishonest.
Outcomes matter. Context matters. History matters.
And when judged by outcomes rather than rhetoric, Comptroller Morton’s tenure reflects repair — not stagnation — in a City that has spent too many years paying the price for dysfunction.
At Black Westchester, we do not traffic in feelings. We evaluate leadership by outcomes — because outcomes, not intentions, determine whether communities move forward or fall behind.
January 6, 2026. Early evening. And surprisingly warm, especially compared to the frigid stretch January had been putting us through. Not warm enough to forget it’s winter, but warm enough that people lingered. Warm enough that coats stayed open. Warm enough that the city felt, for once, like it wasn’t rushing anyone along.
As soon as I walked into the open lobby of the Yonkers Riverfront Library, I heard the band playing.
Not faint. Not background. Present. Alive. The kind of sound that catches you mid-step and tells your body, you’re already late but not in a bad way.
Before I even looked for a seat, before I unfolded the program, the music had already done its work. It filled the open space, bounced lightly off the walls, and traveled up the staircases. It wasn’t asking for attention; it was setting the tone.
Which mattered because this Three Kings celebration, presented by Mike Spano and the Mayor’s Hispanic Advisory Board, wasn’t hidden behind doors or tucked into a side room.
It was happening right there. In the open. In motion. Where people were already passing through.
I sat down with the program folded in my lap, the blue night sky, the guiding star, the three travelers silhouetted in motion, and felt my shoulders drop. That’s how I knew this wasn’t going to be performative culture.
This was intentional culture.
The kind that doesn’t ask permission to exist.
People entered the lobby from every direction. Some came specifically for Three Kings Day. Others wandered in to return books or warm up and stayed. That’s the power of putting culture in the flow of daily life. It doesn’t have to announce itself. It just invites.
Kids swung their legs from chairs too big for them. Parents whispered reminders in Spanish and English, sometimes both in the same breath. Elders positioned themselves where they could see everything, scanning the room not with concern but with confirmation: yes, we are still here.
When the opening remarks began, the space didn’t tighten. It softened. Names were spoken carefully. Gratitude sounded practiced but not rehearsed. There’s a difference between honoring a tradition and using it as décor and the room felt that difference.
A young voice led the Pledge of Allegiance and the National Anthem, and something subtle happened. The lobby recalibrated. Footsteps slowed. Conversations paused. Phones lowered. Not out of obligation, but out of respect. A child sang like the space was holding them.
And it was.
Libraries are underrated architects of belonging. Their walls don’t just hold books, they hold permission. Permission to gather without purchasing something. Permission to exist without explaining yourself. Permission to be seen without being sold to.
The Yonkers Middle High School Madrigal Choir filled the open lobby with layered voices that echoed just enough to remind you that this wasn’t a performance hall, it was a shared civic space. Then dance, Espíritu de México, grounded, rhythmic, unapologetically alive. Applause traveled up staircases. People who hadn’t planned to stay… stayed.
When the Three Kings were introduced, I caught myself gripping the program again. Not because it was dramatic but because it was familiar. Familiar in that ancestral way. Familiar like a story you didn’t grow up hearing every year, but somehow your body recognizes anyway.
That’s lineage. Quiet. Persistent. Patient.
When gift distribution began, nothing felt frantic. No chaos. No scrambling. Just children receiving, adults smiling without documenting every second. And that’s when it landed: this wasn’t about toys. It was about order. Preparation. The message being delivered, without words, that said, you were expected.
As I stepped back into the evening, still mild, the river close by, I thought about how rare it is to see a city place culture where it can’t be ignored. Not siloed. Not ticketed. Not curated for optics. Just present.
Three Kings Day, at its core, is about following a star when the road is uncertain. That night, the star wasn’t overhead. It was right there, in an open lobby, on a folded program, in children’s faces, and in a city choosing to make room.
And honestly?
That kind of visibility, without conditions, feels radical in 2026.
The Gospel Cultural Center announces the historic posthumous ordination of Deacon Earl Simmons, known globally as the legendary Hip-Hop artist DMX, to the office of Minister. The celebratory service will take place on Saturday, January 10, 2026, at the historic Foster Memorial A.M.E. Zion Church, located at 90 Wildey Street in Tarrytown.
Founded in 1860, the Foster Memorial A.M.E. Zion Church is a verified “Safe House” and stop on the Underground Railroad that symbolizes liberation and resilience. Hosting the ordination at this sacred site honors Simmons’ lifelong spiritual journey and his impact as a “Hip-Hop Pastor” who used his platform to lead millions in prayer.
“Earl Simmons wrestled with God in the public square, turning his pain into a ministry of raw truth,” said Bishop Dr. Osiris Imhotep, founder of the Gospel Cultural Center. “This ordination recognizes the divine calling he fulfilled every time he spoke a prayer into a microphone”.
A meaningful tribute to the spiritual impact he left on generations.
Keep it real with us now, I wanna feel show me how (Please!) Let me take yo’ hand, guide me (What!) I’ll walk slow but stay right beside me (Please!) Devil’s tryna find me (Please) Hide me, Hold up, I take that back Protect me and give me the strength to fight back! (Lord give me a sign!)
DMX famously included a sincere prayer on nearly every one of his studio albums, showcasing his deep Christian faith amidst his gritty music, with tracks like “Prayer (Skit)” on “It’s Dark and Hell Is Hot” released in 1998, “Prayer III” on And Then There Was X” released in 1999, “Ready to Meet Him” (also known as “Prayer II”) on Flesh of My Flesh, Blood of My Blood” the second album released in 1998, “Prayer IV” and “A Minute for Your Son” on “The Great Depression” released in 2001, “Prayer V” on “Grand Champ” released in 2003, and “Lord Give Me a Sign” on “Year of the Dog… Again” released in 2006, serving as raw, vulnerable pleas for guidance and redemption, contrasting his tough persona with his spiritual journey. These prayers highlighted his struggles, his belief in God, and his hope for salvation, becoming a signature part of his artistic legacy.
He would often break into prayer on stage or in interviews, a signature move that highlighted his deep spiritual connection and desire for grace.
His lyrics often explored the internal fight between his faith and temptation, frequently referencing his struggles with addiction in the Damien Trilogy
“Damien” is the introduction and Part 1 of the story. It is one of the best songs off of his classic debut “It’s Dark and Hell is Hot’.
“The Omen ft Marilyn Manson” is part 2 of the story and features the Antichrist Superstar himself, who is a perfect character for this story. This one is from X’s Sophomore album ‘Flesh of My Flesh, Blood of my Blood”.
“Damien 3” is the last one he’s dropped in this series. It is from his album ‘The Great Depression’. This one has more upbeat production but still feels as evil as ever.
DMX’s spiritual journey was a powerful testament to the grace of God for sinners, showing that faith could coexist alongside profound struggle, making him a unique spiritual voice in Hip-Hop.
In April 2021, following his passing, Black Westchester released a DMX Tribute issue. In it, I spoke about his spirituality in the article, “DMX Was A Modern Day Paul The Apostle.”
EVENT DETAILS:
EVENT: Posthumous Ordination of Minister Earl “DMX” Simmons
DATE: Saturday, January 10, 2026
TIME: 3:00 PM
LOCATION: Foster Memorial A.M.E. Zion Church, 90 Wildey Street, Tarrytown, NY 10591
SCRIPTURE: Acts 17:31
Foster Memorial A.M.E. Zion Church in Tarrytown, NY, is named after its pioneering founders, Amanda and Henry Foster, with Amanda being the primary driving force, often called the “Mother of the Church,” who established the congregation in her confectionery store around 1860, with the church built later, a crucial stop on the Underground Railroad. Amanda, a free Black woman who started the church, famously used her “free papers” to help enslaved people escape via the Underground Railroad.
When government fails, the instinct is to search for blame. A more useful exercise is to identify where authority actually exists and whether it is being exercised.
A December 19, 2025, letter from the New York State Comptroller’s Office regarding Mount Vernon’s finances removes much of the confusion surrounding the City’s ongoing fiscal instability. The problems are not speculative, political, or newly discovered. They are documented, recurring, and unresolved — not because they are unknown, but because enforcement authority does not currently exist.
The Evidence Is Established
The Comptroller’s Office confirms it has issued multiple audits of Mount Vernon over the past several years. These audits identified fundamental failures in financial reporting and oversight. The City failed to file required annual financial reports for multiple years. Audited financial statements have not been produced since 2015. Officials lacked reliable data to manage cash flow, evaluate budgets, or plan for long-term obligations.
A subsequent budget review found unsupported revenue projections and underbudgeted expenditures, increasing the risk of cash-flow shortfalls. Another audit documented weak oversight of non-payroll spending, leading to late payments, litigation, and higher costs to taxpayers.
These are not matters of opinion. They are operational facts documented by the State.
Why the Audits Did Not Lead to Intervention
The Comptroller’s letter also explains why these findings, despite their severity, did not result in state control of City finances.
Audits identify problems. They do not confer authority to fix them.
The Comptroller states plainly that his office’s recommendations are advisory. The State Comptroller does not have the legal power to compel corrective action or appoint a fiscal monitor for a city government without explicit legislative authorization. In short, the State can document failure, but it cannot intervene unless the law allows it.
This distinction explains why conditions can remain unchanged even as oversight continues.
Why the State Has Not Taken Over City Finances
Some residents have asked why the State imposed a fiscal monitor on the Mount Vernon City School District but not on the City government itself.
The answer is legal, not political.
The answer is legal, not political, because without a law authorizing oversight, the Comptroller has no authority to impose a monitor or control board for the City of Mount Vernon.
In public policy, authority comes from statute — not urgency.
What Mount Vernon Residents Must Do — Based on the Comptroller’s Letter
The Comptroller’s message underscores that only new legislation can enable the State to intervene, giving residents a clear path to meaningful change.
Audits and monitoring do not grant enforcement power. Only a law passed by the New York State Legislature and signed by the Governor can authorize a state fiscal monitor or takeover of City finances.
The responsibility now shifts to residents because legislative action is the only way to enable the State to intervene in Mount Vernon’s finances.
If Mount Vernon taxpayers want the State to act, they must actively encourage their representatives to introduce legislation, making residents key drivers of change.
If passed by the Legislature, the bill would then require the Governor’s signature to become law.
The Comptroller has already done his job. He documented the problem and explained the limits of his authority. What remains is not further investigation, but legislative action. Until the law changes, the outcome will remain the same.
The Bottom Line
Mount Vernon’s financial condition is no longer a matter of debate. The audits are complete. The risks are known. The constraints on state action have been clearly stated.
What happens next depends not on City Hall, auditors, or headlines — but on whether residents are willing to demand legislation from those who actually hold the power to change the outcome.
The holidays are behind you. The plates have been put away, the guests have gone home, and the calendar has finally stopped demanding so much. If you’re reading this now, there’s a good chance you’re running on less than you realize. Most of us are. December has a way of borrowing from the body without sending a bill until much later.
So here we are, standing at the beginning of another year, and most of us will make some kind of resolution. We always do. The harder part is making one that sticks.
I want to suggest something different this year and talk about sleep, but not in the way you’ve probably heard it discussed before.
The Education We Never Got
Here’s something that still surprises people when I mention it: sleep medicine wasn’t even recognized as a medical specialty until 1991. Most physicians practicing today received less than two hours of formal sleep education across their entire medical training. That’s two hours for something we spend a third of our lives doing.
This means that for decades, the very people we trusted to guide our health weren’t equipped to talk about sleep in any meaningful way. And if the doctors weren’t taught, the schools certainly weren’t teaching it either. So, the information just never reached us. We inherited a culture that treated sleep as negotiable, as something to sacrifice when life got demanding, and we passed that down without ever questioning it.
The result is a kind of generational blind spot. We talk about watching our blood pressure and managing our sugar and getting more exercise, but sleep rarely makes it into that conversation with the same weight. And yet the research has been quietly piling up for years, showing that sleep is connected to almost everything we’re already worried about, including heart disease, diabetes, weight, memory, mood, and immune function. The conditions that show up most often in our communities have sleep woven through them in ways we were never told.
What We’re Doing Instead
Americans spend somewhere around eighty billion dollars a year on sleep aids. Pills, supplements, gadgets, apps, weighted blankets, specialty mattresses, and melatonin gummies in every flavor you can imagine. It’s a massive industry built on the promise that better sleep is something you can buy.
And yet the research on many of these products tells a more complicated story. Studies have linked regular sleeping pill use to a higher mortality rate, with some showing three to five times the risk, even at relatively low doses. One large study found that people taking sleep medications had significantly shorter life expectancies than those who didn’t, even when they were getting what should have been a healthy amount of sleep.
I’m not saying this to frighten anyone who’s currently using sleep aids. These are personal medical decisions that belong between you and your doctor. But it’s worth knowing that the solutions we’ve been sold aren’t always as safe as the packaging suggests, and the approaches that work often don’t come in a bottle at all.
A Different Way to Think About Sleep
There’s a form of therapy called Cognitive Behavioral Therapy for Insomnia (CBT-I) that has become the gold standard treatment for sleep problems. It’s essentially a way of retraining your relationship with sleep, and the principles behind it can be useful for anyone, not just people with diagnosed insomnia. And it doesn’t involve medication.
One of the core insights from CBT-I is something that sounds almost too simple: the harder you try to sleep, the worse it tends to go. Sleep isn’t a task you can muscle through. It doesn’t respond to effort the way most things in life do. If anything, effort tends to push sleep further away.
This is worth sitting with for a moment, because it runs counter to everything many of us have been taught about how to get results. You know the drill: work harder, push through and stay disciplined. That mindset might serve you well in a career, in school, in building something meaningful over time. But when you bring that same energy to sleep, you end up lying in bed with your jaw clenched, watching the clock, calculating how many hours you’ll get if you fall asleep right now. This, of course, makes falling asleep even harder.
Sleep comes when you stop chasing it. The body already knows what to do if you get out of its way. And for people who’ve spent their lives “achieving”, that shift can feel almost unnatural.
What This Means for 2026
The resolution I’m offering has less to do with hours or pillows and more to do with how you relate to rest in the first place.
Respect the bed.
Your bed should be for sleep and intimacy, and not much else. When you start using it as a workspace, a scrolling zone, a place to ruminate about tomorrow’s problems, your brain stops associating it with rest. This is one of the simplest CBT-I principles, and it works because the body learns through repetition.
Stop performing sleep.
If you’ve been lying awake for twenty or thirty minutes, get up. Do something quiet in low light until you feel sleepy, then go back. The worst thing you can do is stay in bed frustrated, because that frustration becomes the new association.
Trust the pressure.
Your body knows how to sleep. It’s been doing it your whole life without instruction. When you stop overriding its signals (pushing through tiredness, using caffeine to mask fatigue, ignoring what your body is asking for), sleep tends to come more naturally.
These aren’t quick fixes. They take consistency and sometimes a few uncomfortable nights before things settle. But they address the actual problem rather than masking it.
The Bigger Ask
I said this was about 2026, and it is. But I want to zoom out for a moment, because individual resolutions can only go so far.
If the education around sleep has been missing from our communities for generations, then the fix has to be bigger than any one person deciding to take sleep seriously. The information needs to reach people in the places where real conversations already happen.
I’m talking about barbershops and beauty salons because these are places where health topics come up naturally, where trust is already established. I’m including churches and mosques, where community wellness has always been part of the mission. And fraternities and sororities, community health organizations, school PTAs, and employee wellness programs. The institutions that touch people’s lives.
What if 2026 was the year we started treating sleep like the health conversation it is? What if it got the same airtime as blood pressure and diabetes, and heart health, because the truth is, sleep is connected to all of them?
This is my challenge for the year. To anyone running a community organization, leading a congregation, hosting a wellness event, or simply having regular conversations with people who trust them: put sleep on the agenda. Bring it up, ask questions, and share what you know.
The medical schools didn’t teach it, and the healthcare system hasn’t prioritized it. So, the knowledge must travel through us instead.
A Small Way of Saying Something Large
Sleep won’t solve everything. I’ve never believed in silver bullets, and I’m not going to pretend that fixing your sleep will automatically fix your life. But I’ve been doing this work long enough to know that when sleep is off, everything else gets harder. The patience runs thinner, thinking gets cloudier, and the body feels heavier than it should.
Taking sleep seriously is a small way of saying something larger: that you’re worth taking care of. Rest belongs to you now, not after everything is done. It’s how you keep going, not what you earn after you are tired and depleted. Try resting so that you are never tired or depleted.
2026 is here. And it belongs to the people who stop treating rest as optional.
Derek H. Suite, M.D., is a board-certified psychiatrist specializing in sleep, stress, and peak performance. He is the Founder and CEO of Full Circle Health, an Adjunct Clinical Professor at Columbia University, and host of the daily podcast The SuiteSpot. His forthcoming book explores sleep as the foundation of performance medicine.
