Ideas
The Black State
A few months ago, on the Native Land Podcast, a viewer asked whether Black people should relocate and converge in one state. The question was never directly answered, which I found ironic, considering the show’s focus on organizing. Instead, the hosts pivoted to discussing a list of five potential leaders that the community could rally behind.
In my opinion, the answer to that original question — whether we should relocate to one state and build a base, our own “Wakanda” — should have been an emphatic yes. And whether we should have one leader? Also yes.
Who that leader is doesn’t matter as much as how we organize. People elect presidents all the time — some great, some not — but what gives a leader power is not the name; it’s the people, their unity, and their adherence to shared systems and laws.
The Malcolm X Example
There’s a scene in Malcolm X that I’ve always found powerful.
- It shows controlled, disciplined community power.
- The police chief negotiates directly with Malcolm, makes a concession, and the people under his command disperse — mission accomplished.
That moment represents what structured power looks like. It’s Western power in practice: negotiation, hierarchy, discipline, results. And when you look at the world we live in today, anything else is like bringing a knife to a gunfight.
Structure and Rhythm
I once heard someone on Instagram compare the Black diaspora to a band — different instruments that don’t need to play the same note but must stay in rhythm. I love that analogy. Still, each major group within the diaspora needs an appointed leader, and those leaders must come together to set shared agendas.
That’s the difference between a jam session and an orchestra.
I appreciate what Native Land is doing — organizing from the ground up — but we’ve got to play a bigger game.
How People Organize Power
Objectively speaking, the strongest tools for organizing people have been:
- Language — one of the most powerful tools for unity.
- Location — a passive but potent way to gather people.
- Race — historically dangerous, yet undeniable.
- Religion — perhaps the oldest and most effective form of institutional control.
These are the foundations nations are built on.
Language
Location
Race
Religion
Organizations require fortification.
Let’s look at Japan. Japanese is the primary written and spoken language. Japan is an independent nation. The dominant religion is Shintoism. Most people from Japan are ethnically Japanese. If someone wanted to “become Japanese,” they’d face major hurdles — learning a difficult language, traveling far, and adapting to a culture deeply rooted in Asia. Japan’s GDP is roughly $4.2 trillion.
By contrast, our primary language, English, isn’t unique to Black Americans the way Japanese is to Japan. Because of our history, most Black Americans are connected through location, race, class, and the shared ancestry of chattel slavery.
When I look at nations like Italy, Canada, and Japan, I see possibility. The United States has a GDP of about $27 trillion, but the state of California alone contributes $4.1 trillion (2024) with a population of about 39.5 million. Outperforming Silicon Valley isn’t the goal — and it doesn’t need to be.
The real opportunity lies in building shared community, self-governance, authentic political representation, and pooled resources. If we approached it with unity and structure, America could, in a very real way, become the land of opportunity.
Japan is about the size of California
Italy is about the size of Georgia and Florida combined
Political BLACK Power
If Black Americans concentrated in one U.S. state, it would be a game changer. We might never “run” the country, but we could absolutely shape a state — one that already has infrastructure, federal protection (debatable, I know), electoral votes, Senate seats, and House representation. That kind of political weight could be leveraged to publicly define, document, and advance the interests of Black Americans.
In essence, we’d be building a nation at a discount and leading by example. There’s no need to reinvent the wheel; we live in a time when technology can be leveraged to create our own sister government that follows the same legislative rhythms, rules, and processes as the US. Ethnicity data could be leveraged from census data and verified with services such as ID.me. Voting can be digitized and modernized via a mobile app. We would also be making the case and laying the groundwork for reparations.
The Practical Side
Western systems have long dominated the world — that’s not a criticism, it’s a fact. Where we often stumble is in rejecting structure by saying, “We’re not a monolith.”
But neither are white people. The French, Italians, British, and Germans are all distinct. They don’t need to remind each other they’re not a monolith. Yet their systems of power — monarchies, parliaments, corporations — all function with clear leadership and shared goals.
That’s what gets them to the negotiation table.
And if you’re not at the table, you’re on the menu.
The Bigger Picture
We see this pattern in industries we should dominate. Take music. When streaming was being developed, Spotify and the record labels were at the table. Artists weren’t. The result? Fractions of a penny per stream. Artists became commodities, not stakeholders.
That’s what happens when we don’t organize — when we show up without structure, without leadership, and without a unified front.
Closing Thought
The point isn’t just relocation — it’s recognition.
Without discipline, unity, and shared purpose, even the most gifted people remain scattered, and we lose our power as a collective. History and science show that humans are tribal by nature — so why wouldn’t we want to strengthen ours?
The question isn’t whether we can organize. It’s whether we will.
I’ll land the plane with a short story.
My cousin Betha has hosted a family BBQ at Riverwood Park Recreation in Toms River, NJ every year in late July or early August. On the drive there, I’m always struck by the signs, businesses, and advertisements written in Yiddish. They have their own thriving community.
I don’t mean this in a negative way — but when I drive through that town, I know I’m not the audience. Nothing there is made for me, and that’s okay. I’m simply passing through.
What I admire is their ability to organize, preserve their culture, and build something self-sustaining. I want the same for my people.
Will all Black Americans decide to converge in one state? Probably not. But I invite us to imagine the possibilities of what that reality could bring. My goal isn’t to dictate a plan — it’s to remind us of the power of organizing and to offer a glimpse of what’s possible when we do.
