The Illusion of Progress: Why Do We Still Trust a Broken System?

It amazes me how much corruption consumes our world daily. What’s even more surprising (though not really) is that much of it stems from the very institutions we’re taught to trust—our government and the powerful entities that truly control it. From the myth of Columbus “discovering” America to the legalized enslavement of Black people, from the destruction of thriving Black communities to the systemic murder of innocent Black lives—history shows us that the system was never designed for our benefit.

Even knowing this, many of us still hold on to the belief that if we vote, play by the rules, and prove ourselves as model citizens, things will eventually work in our favor. We excuse or ignore our racist neighbors, believing that as long as they allow us a “seat at the table,” that should be good enough. But should it? And when we dare to challenge the system—when we refuse to be silent—we’re told that we’re being “too much.” That we’re angry. That we should just be grateful for what we have. But let something happen that hits a little too close to home, and suddenly those same people who told us to be quiet are looking to us to be their voice.

A System Designed to Oppress

History has made it clear: oppression isn’t accidental—it’s intentional. The destruction of prominent Black communities like Tulsa’s Black Wall Street in 1921 or the razing of entire neighborhoods to build highways was not just about economic displacement. It was about control. Redlining, which systematically denies Black families access to homeownership and generational wealth, is about control. The school-to-prison pipeline, which disproportionately criminalizes Black and Brown children, is about control.

But the most disheartening part? Many of us still trust the very system that was built to keep us down. We look to the same government that sanctioned these atrocities to somehow undo the damage—often without fully acknowledging that the damage was intentional in the first place.

The Fear That Keeps Us Bound

As believers, we claim to trust a God who has never lost a battle, yet we walk in fear of those who seek to consume our lives. And here’s the kicker: the reason they fight so hard to keep us in a position of subjugation is because they know exactly how powerful we are. The more educated we become, the more dangerous we become for them. That’s why they study us. That’s why they try so desperately to replicate the things we do naturally—our culture, our creativity, our intellect.

There are countless examples of the government exploiting Black and Brown people for their own gain. The Tuskegee Experiment left Black men untreated for syphilis just to see how the disease would progress. Henrietta Lacks’ cells were stolen without her consent and have been used for medical breakthroughs worth billions—while her family was left with nothing. Organ trafficking disproportionately targets Black and Brown bodies, with cases surfacing of stolen organs and illegal transplants.

So, I ask again—why do we trust them? Why do we continue to yield to a system that was never meant for our survival?

Rewriting the Narrative

We don’t have to accept the narrative that was written for us. We can deconstruct it and tell our own truth. That starts with acknowledging that the system isn’t broken—it’s working exactly as designed. But just because it was designed this way doesn’t mean we have to live within its constraints.

Speaking up isn’t “too much.” Questioning the system isn’t unnecessary rebellion. It’s survival. And the moment we stop waiting for permission to exist fully, to challenge injustice, and to reclaim what has always been ours, that’s the moment we begin rewriting the narrative.