What has changed for Black Business After 50 Years? Still Fighting for Black Business

Fifty years ago, Atlanta and cities across the nation made bold promises to bring Black businesses into the mainstream of economic life. Mayor Maynard Jackson in the 1970s pushed for equity in contracting, opening long-closed doors. Congressman Parren Mitchell fought at the federal level to establish minority business set-asides and legal protections. Both men made history, yet half a century later, Black entrepreneurs are still fighting many of the same battles.

Despite Atlanta’s reputation as the “Black Mecca,” Black businesses remain undercapitalized, under-contracted, and under-recognized. They contribute heavily to the city’s tax base, cultural vitality, and workforce, but reinvestment into their neighborhoods falls far short of what they give. Ninety-seven percent of Atlanta’s Black-owned businesses are very small enterprises—sole proprietors and micro-firms—that together generate nearly $7 billion annually. They may not appear in corporate boardrooms, but they are the stabilizers of community economics: barbershops, childcare centers, mechanics, grocers, and service firms that keep dollars circulating and culture alive. They are infrastructure, not accessories.

The problem is not talent. Black entrepreneurs have proven themselves across industries—from restaurants and real estate to professional services and technology start-ups. The problem is containment. Programs created in response to civil rights demands were designed to relieve pressure, not redistribute wealth. Nixon’s “Black Capitalism” offered advice without capital. Atlanta’s 35% contracting rule was groundbreaking, but it became a ceiling instead of a floor. Once set, it was never expanded, no matter how much capacity grew. Federal reforms like Mitchell’s were capped or rolled back as soon as they showed results.

The cycle has repeated itself for decades. Each era brought a new slogan—“supplier diversity,” “ESG,” “inclusive growth”—but the structure remained unchanged. Progress was tolerated only until it threatened control of capital. Once Black businesses began to gain ground, the rules shifted.

Too often today, activity around Black business has become motion without movement. Networking receptions, roundtables, and photo ops are mistaken for progress. But visibility is not victory. Advisory boards are not battlefields. Symbolic inclusion does not equal structural change.

If the last fifty years were defined by band-aids and ceilings, the next fifty must be defined by ownership and creation. That means infrastructure ownership—land, supply chains, logistics, and Black-led technology platforms. It means capital control—community-owned banks and funds that direct both public and private investment into Black businesses. It means market definition—building enterprises that serve the vast Black consumer market, keeping wealth circulating locally. And it means moving policy beyond ceilings—contracting commitments that grow with population and capacity, not caps that freeze progress in place.

The lesson is unmistakable: the fight was never about people. It has always been about money and power. Band-aid programs calmed unrest but left wounds unhealed. Ceilings were set and never lifted. Extraction drained communities while reinvestment lagged.

Now, in 2025, the fight has entered dangerous territory. Minority Business contracting programs are under attack at the federal level—reduced, and in some cases facing elimination. These are not routine adjustments. They are deliberate efforts to strip away the few protections that opened doors for Black enterprise. If we do not stand up and confront these changes, we will be left behind.

This is why I am still fighting. Because when Black businesses thrive, jobs grow, wealth circulates, families stabilize, and culture shines. Because if these programs are dismantled, all of that is put at risk. Because the next fifty years must not look like the last fifty.

The call now is for courage. It is a demand for unity across generations—young innovators and seasoned entrepreneurs standing together to defend their future. Advisory boards must fight, not pose. Capital must flow, not trickle. Ownership must be demanded, not requested.

BlacIntellec’s alarm is clear: the next fifty years will either break this cycle or repeat it. Atlanta and Black communities across the nation must not only be beacons but fortresses—self-sustaining, united, and unwilling to accept ceilings that stifle progress.

The time for cautious patience is over. The time for decisive action is not tomorrow. The time is now.