Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) programs have become the modern-day gold standard for progress in America. Corporations, universities, and government agencies champion these initiatives as essential to leveling the playing field. But beneath the surface, a different reality emerges—one that strips individuals of their agency and reduces success to a product of handouts rather than hard work.
I know this firsthand.
While in college at the University of Alabama, I spent months trying to secure an internship with the American Bar Association. It was right after September 11th, and many of the original interns had backed out, fearing a move to Washington, D.C., during such an uncertain time. That’s when I got the call.
I wasn’t from an Ivy League school. I wasn’t a standout student on paper. I was an average kid from a party school in Alabama. And, of course, I was a young Black woman. But I was also someone who had stepped up when others hesitated, someone who had worked for the opportunity.
When I arrived, I was eager to prove myself. I was assigned to the Central and Eastern European Law Initiative, a program helping former Soviet Union countries craft legal frameworks. I later contributed research for the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights Assessment Index, which would help measure human rights compliance across nations. This was serious work, and I was ready.
But before I could even get started, I was met with something suffocating—an overwhelming, cloying kindness from the white liberals around me. They were so proud of themselves for giving me this opportunity. They assumed I needed extra help with basic tasks, like writing professional emails or understanding business etiquette, as if I had never navigated a professional setting before. It was as if my presence alone was an accomplishment for them.
I was not seen as a young professional eager to contribute. I was seen as a project. A charity case. A box checked on their diversity quota.
I had fought for that opportunity. I had stepped up when others backed away. And yet, my success in their eyes was not my own—it was something they had given me. It took months of pushing back against their patronizing assumptions to be recognized for my actual work. And when I later went to Macedonia to contribute to their first election after Slobodan Milošević was ousted, I did so on the strength of my own merit—not because of a DEI initiative.
That experience stuck with me. It wasn’t just an isolated moment. It was a symptom of a much larger problem. DEI does not empower—it infantilizes. It places an asterisk next to success. It turns individuals into symbols rather than professionals. And worst of all, it fosters a system of dependency, where opportunities feel granted rather than earned.
The Creation of “Other”
This is the real failure of DEI: it creates a perpetual class of “others.” Rather than integrating individuals into workplaces as equal colleagues, it turns them into diversity hires, symbols of a company’s commitment to inclusion rather than capable professionals in their own right.
The irony is painful. DEI was meant to open doors, but in many cases, it slams them shut by reinforcing the very stereotypes it claims to dismantle. If we want true equality, we must reject the idea that race or gender should ever be a substitute for merit.
The Historical Parallel: Dependency as a Tool of Control
This tactic—keeping marginalized groups in a state of dependency—is not new. It has been used time and again to maintain social hierarchies.
During the Civil War, Southern elites convinced poor white Southerners—many of whom had more in common economically with Black slaves than with the wealthy landowners—that their real enemies were the enslaved Black people, not the aristocrats who were keeping them in poverty. They sowed division, preventing unity among the lower classes that could have upended the entire system. The poor whites were manipulated into fighting for a cause that ultimately did not serve them, all because they had been conditioned to see themselves as superior to those even lower on the social ladder.
This same dynamic re-emerged during the Civil Rights movement when poor white Americans were pitted against Black Americans to maintain racial and economic divides. Instead of recognizing that they were being exploited by the same power structures, they were conditioned to believe that racial hierarchy was in their best interest.
And today? The same strategy is in play, just under a different name. Instead of Southern elites or segregationists keeping Black Americans in a position of dependence, it’s DEI policies, lowered educational standards, and political agendas that do the job. A system that constantly reinforces victimhood over empowerment does not uplift—it controls. And when a group is conditioned to believe that its success depends on external policies rather than internal drive, it will always remain beholden to those policies.
Education and the Lowering of Standards
Nowhere is this more evident than in education. DEI ideology has infiltrated schools, not by expanding opportunities, but by lowering expectations.
We see schools that pass Black students through with failing grades rather than pushing them to achieve. We see the normalization of Ebonics and slang as acceptable linguistic standards rather than demanding excellence in communication. We see a culture that tells Black children that academic struggle is a natural state rather than something that can be overcome with discipline and effort.
The result? A generation that is less prepared, less competitive, and less capable—not because they lack the intelligence, but because the system refused to push them to their full potential.
DEI as a Modern Plantation
When Black success is contingent on DEI policies rather than individual merit, the community remains in a state of perpetual dependency.
This is not liberation; this is modern servitude. Just as the old political system kept Black Americans reliant on government programs rather than self-sufficiency, today’s DEI initiatives create a similar dynamic. Instead of breaking barriers, DEI cements them. Instead of fostering confidence, it breeds doubt. Instead of creating leaders, it creates pawns—easily manipulated, easily controlled, and always needing another handout to survive.
The Alternative: True Empowerment
So what is the solution? The answer is simple but difficult: self-reliance.
The Black community does not need quotas; it needs opportunity. It does not need handouts; it needs a hand up. It needs strong education, mentorship, and a return to the principles of discipline, resilience, and meritocracy.
If we truly want equality, we must reject any system that suggests we cannot achieve it on our own. We must embrace competition, hard work, and the idea that excellence transcends race, gender, or background. And most importantly, we must stop allowing ourselves to be used as political pawns in a game that was never meant to benefit us.
I did not need DEI to succeed. I needed opportunity, and I needed the
freedom to prove myself without an asterisk next to my name.
That is true empowerment. That is true equality.
And that is a fight worth having.
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