By Rev. Donald L. Perryman, Ph.D.
The Truth Contributor
He who passively accepts evil is as much involved in it as he who helps to perpetuate it. He who accepts evil without protesting against it is really cooperating with it…
– Martin Luther King, Jr.
For decades, a familiar narrative has claimed that Black families fell apart after the Great Society, launched by President Lyndon B. Johnson, and the gains from the Civil Rights Movement.
It gets repeated ad nauseam in political circles, community forums and churches. But I don’t care how many times you pour maple syrup on a shoe; it doesn’t make it a pancake. Repeating a lie doesn’t make the lie true.
The truth is Black families did not collapse – they were intentionally destabilized. The foundation undergirding their structure was destroyed by economic sabotage, mass incarceration, medical neglect and institutional silence.
Judge Greg Mathis offered a more profound truth at the recent Saving Toledo’s Families conference at Warren A.M.E. Church. He talked about growing up in the projects of Detroit – raised by a single mother working two jobs, who provided him discipline, faith and a home with structure.
It was no accident that Mathis and other Black families survived. Its foundation came from Black tradition – structure, values, community and, most importantly, a few institutional pillars that were still in place.
I was born, grew up, and lived during the mid to late 20th century. So, I can verify that Black progress wasn’t an exception. Federal policy and industrial growth opened a surefire path to the middle class. Union jobs meant steady pay, homeownership, vacation trips and college for the next generation. It was the start of real investment in Black labor, stability and futures.
Unfortunately, many of those systems either disappeared or were weaponized against us as systemic injustice, economic abandonment and institutional silence pulled the rug out from under us.
By the 1970s, deindustrialization hollowed out cities, leaving vacant lots in place of Black-owned homes and businesses. Factories shut down and jobs disappeared. Then, schools declined due to the collapse of the tax base. Black workers weren’t failing—the system was. The work was taken and with it, Black futures that had just begun to take shape.
Horrifically, the cruel federal response to this 1970s crisis was a shift to criminalize poverty rather than to invest in rebuilding.
The government’s so-called War on Crime policy diverted billions of dollars from community development, housing, education and other social programs. Instead, it invested in incarceration, police departments and surveillance. Black neighborhoods were flooded with law enforcement and starved of resources. Schools turned into zones of control. The policy treated Black youth as threats, not students.
Then came mass incarceration. Although Black and Brown people smoked and sold marijuana (now legalized) at similar rates as whites, the new “law and order” policy purposely targeted only neighborhoods of color for enforcement. Harsh sentencing for nonviolent offenses tore families apart as the United States became the world’s largest jailer. Formerly incarcerated individuals then came home after serving time, ineligible for housing or education, and disqualified for jobs, with no second chances. The damage was generational — and by design.
Moreover, systemic harm has continued in clinics and hospitals outside the courtroom and classroom. Compared to white women, Black women today have a three to four times higher risk of dying during pregnancy. The mortality rate for Black infants is more than twice that of white infants. Regardless of education or income, these differences still exist.
The bottom line is that we need a new narrative that knows the truth about the system, questions it, and creates something better, not just how to get by. This new narrative entails rejecting the notion that there is something wrong with Black families without critiquing the larger system that contributes to this.
Sadly, many churches spend more time bashing people for their “sins” but fail to address the systemic issues that are causing them pain.
“The church’s silent and often vocal sanction of things as they are, consoles the power structure of the average community,” Professor James Harris of Union Theological Seminary once stated. What passed for Christian education (or preaching) was often nothing more than theological compliance training — conditioning our children to accept a world never designed for their thriving.
The good news is that our story isn’t over. Black families fought to stay whole. We were targeted, displaced and criminalized — but we weren’t broken by choice. We had the floor taken out from under us and were shoved. Yet, we are not powerless. We can resist, speak the truth and rebuild what was taken.
What We Can Do Now
For too long, false narratives about Black families — brokenness, laziness, dysfunction — have shaped policy and public opinion to justify disinvestment, punishment and disparate treatment. But with new eyes, we see the truth: Black families have never lacked strength — they’ve lacked support.
Recognizing the truth is not enough, however. We must act on it. That starts with rebuilding the systems that were designed to fail us:
We must fight for real investment in public schools and early childhood education in Black communities. Education can’t be an afterthought — it must be a foundation to break generational cycles.
We must demand serious reform in maternal care, reproductive justice, and healthcare access. Black women and families deserve systems that protect life — not put it at risk.
We must treat the damage of mass incarceration as a justice issue. This is about dignity, repair, and value for Black lives.
We must shift the narrative from it’s just about “sin” to it’s about systems. Not just law, but liberation; Personal piety and political accountability are two sides of the same moral coin—both matter.
Above all, we need a community-informed federal blueprint for equity, education, and the fight against poverty — no matter which party is in power.
The truth is this: when there was real investment in civil rights, healthcare and opportunity, Black communities thrived and made real progress, as did the entire nation. The problem was never Black families — the problem was the policies built on the lie that Black families were the problem.
Now is the time to reject those old lies — and look with new eyes at what justice truly requires.
Contact Rev. Donald Perryman, PhD, at drdlperryman@enterofhopebaptist.org