The Whiteman's Guide to Why Black Men Wear White Tee's
This book and lecture series traces how hip hop culture became one of the most powerful — and least credited — marketing engines in American history, turning everyday garments like the plain white tee into cultural symbols and commercial gold mines.
It examines the pipeline from street style to boardroom strategy, showing how corporations have long profited from trends born in Black communities without acknowledging their origin or compensating their creators.
Part cultural history, part marketing case study, the series challenges audiences to rethink who actually drives consumer trends — and who gets left out of the profit when they do.
"Soon and very soon, we are going to see the King...
Hallelujah, hallelujah, we're going to see the King!" This content and lecture series traces the evolution of Black American music — from Blues to Gospel, Rock & Roll, R&B/Soul, and Hip Hop — as a living chronicle of resilience, tracking how each sound rose to meet the demands of its era while Jim Crow's grip shifted shape but never fully loosened. Rather than treating these genres as separate chapters, the series frames them as one continuous spiritual and cultural throughline, each generation inheriting the last one's rhythm and reworking it into a new language of survival, protest, and joy. From the church pews that birthed Gospel's promise of deliverance to Hip Hop's raw reckoning with modern inequity, the series asks audiences to hear American history not through textbooks, but through the music that carried a people forward.
In New Orleans “We get it how we live”
More than a catchphrase, this is a living mantra rooted in the everyday resilience of New Orleans — a city that has weathered storms, systemic neglect, and economic hardship, yet continues to create culture, joy, and opportunity on its own terms. It speaks to a specific kind of resourcefulness born from necessity: the hustle, the community bonds, and the refusal to wait for permission or rescue that defines how New Orleanians move through the world. From Uptown to Downtown, the phrase carries generations of determination — a reminder that survival here has always meant building something out of what you're given and thriving anyway.
Give a YN some grace “Hell hath no fury”
This piece unpacks the illusion of apathy often projected onto young Black men from the streets — the assumption that swagger, silence, or street-honed instincts signal indifference rather than depth. It argues that figures like Nipsey Hussle and artists in his lineage were dangerous precisely because they weren't apathetic at all — they were strategic, community-rooted, and building power in ways the system didn't expect and couldn't easily contain. Beneath the perceived nonchalance was calculation, ambition, and love for their people fierce enough to challenge the status quo — proof that grace is owed to those too quickly misread as careless.
The ultimate investor: The responsibilities of God
This concept frames faith not as passive belief but as a form of investment — one where God supplies the vision, the resources, and the open doors, while the responsibility to act, build, and steward what's given falls to us. It draws on the principle that faith without works is inert, arguing that true discernment isn't found in belief alone, but in the tangible fruit of effort, diligence, and follow-through that faith is meant to produce. In this light, works become the receipt of faith — proof that what was believed was also lived, and the ultimate measure of whether trust in God translated into purposeful action.
"We Don't Know No More, All We Do Is This": The Trial of Young Durk
This piece examines how the legal scrutiny surrounding artists like Durk functions as more than an individual case — it becomes a broader indictment of how Black youth from under-resourced communities are perceived, policed, and judged by a system that rarely accounts for the environment that shaped them. It asks a harder question: when survival narrows a young person's world to "all we do is this," how much of what follows is choice, and how much is the predictable outcome of limited options and generational neglect? Rather than framing the trial as an isolated legal matter, the piece positions it as a mirror — reflecting society's failure to invest in alternatives before condemning the paths young Black men were left to walk.
