While Black leaders celebrate symbolic victories, America is moving to rebuild its economy—and once again, Black America risks being left behind, not simply by systemic exclusion, but by a catastrophic failure in leadership.
In the past few months, President Trump has signed executive orders that could reshape the American workforce for generations. One focuses on reindustrializing the economy through apprenticeships and vocational training, creating alternative pathways to prosperity outside of the traditional college system. Another promotes Artificial Intelligence (AI) education across all levels of schooling and workforce development, preparing Americans for a future increasingly defined by technology.
At the same time, a national report quietly revealed that over 500,000 skilled trade jobs are currently sitting vacant—jobs that don’t require a four-year degree, don’t carry the burden of crushing student debt, and offer starting salaries well above $60,000 per year. In fields like welding, electrical work, plumbing, HVAC, and manufacturing technology, the market is desperate for trained workers. These are jobs that have historically built America’s middle class—the same middle class Black America fought to enter during the civil rights movement.
Yet, amid these historic shifts, where is the outcry from Black leadership? Where are the press conferences, the town halls, the strategic plans to flood these open trades with Black talent? Where are the apprenticeship programs being scaled in our neighborhoods, the partnerships with industry leaders to prioritize Black workers for the new industrial economy?
The answer is obvious: the focus is elsewhere. Black leaders have become enamored with Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) initiatives that deliver little more than symbolic victories. Instead of preparing thousands for economic independence, DEI efforts seem primarily aimed at placing a handful of Black politicians, executives, and consultants on panels, advisory boards, and in corner offices—while the broader community remains economically stagnant.
We are celebrating individuals gaining titles, while hundreds of thousands of practical, wealth-building opportunities pass our communities by.
The trade jobs are real. The AI education pathways are real. But opportunity without preparation means little. And preparation requires leadership focused on outcomes, not optics.
Consider this: Despite record levels of Black college attendance, the Black unemployment rate remains twice that of whites. The Black student debt burden continues to be disproportionate, with Black borrowers owing an average of $25,000 more than their white counterparts just four years after graduation. Meanwhile, industries are making clear they are shifting hiring practices toward skills-based employment—valuing certifications, apprenticeships, and experience over degrees. The economy is changing, but Black leadership continues to push strategies aligned with yesterday’s realities.
Read: Skilled Trades: A Promising Path for Black Youth and Community Prosperity
While others pivot to meet new demands, we are stuck demanding inclusion in spaces that no longer hold the same economic power they once did. College credentials are no longer the guarantee they were once marketed to be. Skilled trades and technological proficiency are fast becoming the real currencies of upward mobility.
Instead of addressing this shift, Black leadership remains obsessed with symbolic representation. Yet representation on boards means little if the community those individuals represent remains unemployed, underemployed, and unprepared for the economic opportunities of today and tomorrow.
Trades are not glamorous. Working with your hands doesn’t generate viral social media content or draw celebrity endorsements. But it pays bills, builds wealth, and stabilizes families. Apprenticeships offer a way for young Black men—too often left behind by academic institutions and written off by employers—to enter middle-class stability without four years of debt and financial hardship.
Similarly, AI education isn’t just about creating tech geniuses. It’s about ensuring that Black youth can participate fully in a future where AI will define nearly every industry—from health care and logistics to manufacturing and agriculture. The integration of AI literacy into K-12 education could be transformative—but only if Black students have access to quality instruction, resources, and pathways into AI careers.
Right now, those pathways are being built. Public-private partnerships are forming. Grants are being offered. Apprenticeships are expanding. Companies are preparing to hire. The window is open.
But windows close. And if Black America once again finds itself knocking on the door after the opportunities have been handed out, the blame will not fall solely on racism or structural barriers. A large share of it will fall on leaders who chose headlines over hard strategies, symbolism over substance.
Economic shifts do not pause for grievance marches. They do not wait for academic debates over terminology. They reward those who act decisively, who adapt quickly, who prepare their people to meet the demands of reality.
If Black leadership wants to claim relevance in the 21st-century economy, it must immediately pivot toward skills-based empowerment. It must prioritize massive recruitment into apprenticeships. It must build AI literacy in every predominantly Black school. It must demand funding streams be directed into trades, technology, and ownership pipelines. It must forge partnerships not for symbolic representation, but for mass participation.
There is no future in DEI slogans when the economy is being rebuilt around competency, not complexion.
There is still time to act. Still time to course-correct. But time, like opportunity, is not endless.
The doors are open now. Over 500,000 trade jobs are available now. AI pathways are being designed now. Either Black America will organize itself to walk through these doors, or we will once again find ourselves locked out, asking why.
The difference this time will be that the world moved on—and we simply refused to move with it.