Old folks will tell you that life has exactly two certainties: death and taxes.
So, what’s the difference? Death can’t be avoided. Death is a clear threshold. Taxes, despite the meticulous detail of the US Tax Code, look nothing like death’s sheer cliff, marked off by obvious warning signs. Parsing through the Tax Code is like scanning the jungle for quicksand, itself obscured underneath a morass of exemptions, write-offs, and offshore tax shelters. Amid all the Tax Code’s legalese, your everyday accountant gets creative, while the ordinary taxpayer ends up confused. Before it collects its fines, the Internal Revenue Service always points to the Tax Code, written in black and white.
Black men, America’s consummate code-switchers, don’t have the luxury of the legal framework that the IRS morphs into revenue. And yet a new wave of finance gurus and health researchers will describe for us “the Black Tax.” We understand they’ve put words to something real. Economists have long known the hidden penalties, regressive burdens, and lost opportunity [JP5] imposed on Black society. These economists are only attaching formal terminology to something already felt in our bones. The researchers’ data makes visible with numbers what we already know in our spirits, our culture, and the earned wisdom that they’ve passed on to us generation after generation. If Black men share a collective unconscious, the Black Tax already feels like the sound that lingers from a dream, a ringing in the ears that never quite fades away.
And the chorus is growing. The Black Tax is in your blood. The Black Tax is in your head. Black families themselves dole out the Black tax. The Black Tax persists through time and telomeres, epigenetics and epidemiology, birth and bankruptcy.
In all this noise about the Black Tax, why don’t you know where to cash your refund?
Because the “where” sits in the middle of your mindset. The “standard forms” are printed in the ink of the questions you repeatedly ask yourself (as well as the questions you refuse to entertain). And your “accountants” are your brothers. Yes, your comfort zones help you “manage” the pain, but they don’t heal. Yes, your old rationalizations and justifications give you something that feels at first like peace. There is no peace; these are shackles. Unless you toss them aside, you cannot reclaim the greatness that is your birthright. You cannot leave the limitations of your own cell.
But once you break free? Your self-discovery leads to power: overflowing, steady, free.
The Black tax isn’t a tax at all. It’s the source of your strength.
The Growth Mindset over The Fixed Mindset
How important is it that I look smart, smooth, and in-charge? If something gets tough and obstacles pop up, this means I need to leave the situation, right? There’s no point in trying too hard — the system is stacked against me anyway. And people are always trying to drag me down. Who are you to criticize me? You don’t know me. What makes you think you can give me advice? If my boy over here is getting paid, it means I’m missing out. He’s got it easy. Not me.
If you’ve ever caught yourself thinking any of these thoughts — you’re not alone. You’ve fallen into a reinforcing pattern of negative self-talk that traps many of us from a young age: The Fixed Mindset.
Whether you say these questions out loud or they run like a tape recording in your mind, some part of you cares more about outer appearances than your inner truth. Your thoughts are swayed by other people’s perceptions. Your actions are only meaningful if they come with visible markers of success. You talk yourself up and show people your highlight reel. But if they actually saw you doing the work, getting up off the ground, being affected emotionally by anything, you know they’d be talking behind your back, calling you weak, giving you the side-eye. Maybe they’ll even cross the line, snickering to your face, throwing shade, talking down to you.
But what if you held the very opposite beliefs? That my outcomes are less important than my effort. And because I worked harder for that same paper, I’m actually stronger than ya’ll gliding on Easy Street. That every challenge, obstacle, or outright failure is something to celebrate. Each time I fall, I learn valuable insights about myself and the world around me. Good luck capturing life’s full potential without these lessons I’ve learned the hard way. I don’t mind your critiques. In fact, I welcome them with an open heart. If you don’t tell me the truth, I can’t level up. Instead of a source of jealousy, what if my friend doing well is a source of inspiration? I salute your success, my brother. I learn from it. It gets me up in the morning. And I’m driven to give just a little more tomorrow. And every day after.
This is the Growth Mindset.
Self-Discovery over Victimhood
Adopting the Growth Mindset may very well guide you on a new journey of self-improvement, one that ends with ownership and authenticity. Because I own the Black tax, I leverage it to my advantage. I reap the rewards like I’m getting interest checks on my stocks and bonds. My nest egg grows every day. I no longer live with a spirit of fear as my constant companion, grasping at everything I already have and coveting everything I still want. But the journey into fulfillment, joy, and boundless possibility — that is the work of a lifetime. Day 1 of that journey means running through the boot camp of self-discovery.
This is where I begin to dig into the roots of who I am:
· What is it that I crave? And where does the craving come from?
· What do I desire? Why do I desire these things? What is behind my desire?
· What are my unmet needs? How have I been trying to satisfy those needs?
· What am I insecure about? What am I afraid to do? What do I think will happen if I fail?
· What am I running from?
· What do my actions reveal about who I am? Who do I really want to be?
It takes serious, inner work to answer these questions truthfully. But in the end, you will attain a self-knowledge many people never stop long enough to acquire. Secure in that knowledge, blaming anyone else will be less of a temptation. Secure in who you are and clear about the heart’s deeper longings, accountability, self-possession, and real transformation are all now possible. You were never a victim. You were always the warrior ready to rise.
Solidarity over Ego
A wise man once told me, “The very faults you rail against in others are the key to what you most hate about yourself.” That is why any grudges, any resentments, all the jealousy I carry in my heart prevent me from accepting who I am and loving myself. So, it follows that the path to love and acceptance flow inextricably from the acceptance, love, and generosity I show to the people in my life. A connectedness to community, a sense of belonging to a tribe — these aren’t just “nice-to-haves.” They’re vital fuel for my growth. Whatever growth I experience, I give freely to others on the journey. Instead of passing on my own wounds, I pass on nourishment and life.
What I receive in return within the communal spaces defined by trust, vulnerability, and genuine intimacy reaffirms my humanity, bolsters my mission, and sharpens my creativity. And what I receive far outweighs what I could possibly give.
The Other Side of Death
Men who find communities of like-minded seekers will generate great strength from the inspiration and fire their brothers spark in them. That dedicated, communal space becomes a haven, a refuge, and a launchpad for greater victories. And yet, there are some thresholds we can only cross alone. Death, unlike taxes (Black or otherwise), is one of those thresholds. A man who prepares internally for war, prepares also for death. And that preparation is the source of his confidence, the base of his power. If I have made peace with death, if I no longer fear it. Then, I am also free of many other smaller fears, too. Reconciling with death produces the ultimate antidote to fear.
And fear is your enemy. No one else will hold you back as much as your own fear holds you back. In the final accounting, that’s what the Growth Mindset boils down to. If every setback is a “mini death,” and I’ve already made peace with death, then failure no longer has power over me. I no longer fear it. In fact, I collect every failure like the spoils of war, little trinkets that remind me just how far I’ve come. Emblems of new territory explored. Trophies that speak of my resilience. The relentless, resounding beat of my warrior heart.
The only question that’s left is, “What’s next?”