Labeling them Sexual Deviants & A Danger to Society & using Black Middle Class to do it….
For centuries, the image of the Black man in America has been a battlefield. From the earliest days of slavery to the modern digital age, the fight has always been about more than economics — it’s been about perception, power, and control. In this ongoing struggle, one pattern remains chillingly consistent: wealthy Black men, those who’ve dared to climb the ladders of industry, entertainment, politics, and sports, are often targeted, dismantled, and paraded as cautionary tales. In recent decades, there has been a disturbing twist — the use of the Black middle class as a tool in this process.
The Threat of Black Wealth
In a society where generational wealth has long been concentrated in white hands, the rise of wealthy Black men has always been disruptive. It challenges deeply embedded racial hierarchies and disproves myths of Black inferiority. A successful Black man with influence isn’t just an economic force — he’s a symbol.
From Marcus Garvey in the 1920s to Malcolm X in the 1960s, from Muhammad Ali to today’s billionaires like Jay-Z or Robert F. Smith, Black men who’ve built wealth and influence have often been met with surveillance, smear campaigns, or strategic takedowns. The tactics may change, but the underlying goal remains: to remind the Black community — and America at large — that Black excellence is conditional, fragile, and punishable.
The Role of the Black Middle Class
Here lies the more complex and painful reality: the Black middle class is sometimes weaponized in this process. Historically, the middle class has been celebrated as proof of progress — a sign that the fight for equality was yielding fruit. Yet, this same group can be strategically positioned as a buffer between the wealthy elite and the working class, tasked (knowingly or unknowingly) with policing the image of Blackness.
By aligning “respectable” middle-class values with the agendas of larger societal systems, some become gatekeepers of a sanitized, palatable Black image that excludes the complexities of real Black life. When wealthy Black men fall from grace — whether through legitimate wrongdoing, exaggeration, or outright fabrication — it’s often middle-class voices that are amplified to condemn them. This condemnation appears authentic because it comes from within the Black community, yet it often serves narratives crafted far outside of it.
Media’s Amplification Machine
The media plays a crucial role in shaping and spreading these narratives. Consider the disproportionate coverage given to scandals involving Black public figures compared to their white counterparts. When a wealthy Black man is accused of misconduct, the headlines are relentless, the imagery harsh, and the speculation loud.
Meanwhile, positive contributions — philanthropy, community investments, mentorship programs — are often buried or ignored. By focusing on the fall rather than the climb, media outlets perpetuate the idea that Black men, no matter how high they rise, will inevitably fail.
Divide and Control
This strategy isn’t new. The concept of dividing the Black community along class lines has roots in slavery, where lighter-skinned or skilled slaves were often given marginal privileges over field laborers to sow mistrust. Today, the divisions are more subtle but just as effective. The Black middle class is sometimes seduced by the promise of security and inclusion, which can lead to a reluctance to challenge systems that harm the broader community.
The end result? A weakened collective power. Wealthy Black men are left isolated and vulnerable, the working class feels abandoned, and the middle class becomes a tool for reinforcing the very structures that oppress them all.
Breaking the Cycle
If the cycle is to be broken, the Black community must first recognize these dynamics for what they are: deliberate strategies of control. Solidarity across class lines is essential. Wealthy Black men need the protection and advocacy of their communities just as much as the community needs their resources and influence.
We must also demand balanced media representation — one that highlights the full humanity of Black men, not just their mistakes. And the Black middle class must reject the role of cultural gatekeeper in service of someone else’s narrative.
The truth is simple: every attack on a wealthy Black man’s image is more than personal; it’s political. It’s a message about what’s allowed and what’s not. Until the community refuses to be divided — and refuses to participate in the public destruction of its own — that message will keep echoing through history.
