Drop the Qualifier: Reclaiming Our Narrative Without Apology

We are at a pivotal moment in history—a moment of transformation, of collapse, and of rebirth. Like the mythical phoenix, we are being pushed to redefine ourselves, to rise from the ashes of outdated frameworks.

A conversation I had recently made me realize something profound: we have been conditioned to qualify ourselves in ways that no other group does. We say Black man, Black woman, Black history, as if our identity needs an extra descriptor to be understood, acknowledged, or validated. But why?

When white people talk about their history, they don’t call it white history. They simply call it history. Napoleon is just Napoleon. The Renaissance is just the Renaissance. Yet, when we speak of our existence, our achievements, and our legacies, we feel the need to prefix them with "Black." But this qualifier does more than just distinguish—it subtly suggests that our reality is secondary to some greater, more dominant "standard." It implies that without this label, our history, our manhood, our womanhood, our contributions would somehow be invisible or unrecognized.

But what if we stopped playing by those rules?

The Shift in Power

With the shifting political landscape, including the removal of DEI initiatives, many are worried about the erasure of Black programs, Black spaces, and Black history. But what if this is actually an opportunity? What if, instead of lamenting the loss of the label, we step fully into our power and claim the space that has always been ours?

We don’t need to have Black men’s conferences—we need men’s conferences. We don’t need Black leadership programs—we need leadership programs. Our history isn’t just Black history—it’s history. Full stop.

When we qualify our experiences, we unwittingly give power to the idea that someone else’s experience is the default. But what happens when we stop playing along? What happens when we walk into a room and take up space without explanation or justification?

Flipping the Script

It’s time for the rest of the world to feel what we’ve been forced to feel for centuries. Let them qualify their existence the way we’ve had to qualify ours. Let them feel the discomfort of adding extra words to describe what they have always assumed was the default.

Elon Musk, for example, had to clarify his identity by calling himself a white South African—because simply saying African wouldn’t be enough for the world to understand his reality. That moment of qualification, of having to explain oneself, is a shift in power.

Now, it’s our turn.

Owning Our Space

We don’t need permission to exist, to teach, to lead, to create. We don't need labels that make our existence seem like a subsection of someone else’s reality.

When we teach history, we teach history.
When we discuss leadership, we discuss leadership.
When we celebrate our culture, we celebrate culture.

The void we’ve been taught to fill with qualifiers is an artificial construct, a product of white supremacy designed to keep us boxed in. It’s time to break out of that box.

Final Word

The challenge before us is clear: drop the qualifier and take up space unapologetically. Stand in the fullness of who we are without bowing to outdated expectations. The world will adjust.

Let’s build. Let’s create. Let’s move forward—without permission, without explanation, and without qualifiers.