“What Are We Feeding Our Young Black Men?”

Let’s talk about our young Black men—not to criticize, but to care, to reflect, and to challenge ourselves as a community.

Because let’s be clear: there’s a crisis happening right before our eyes. And it’s not just about crime statistics, discipline issues, sagging pants, or how “these boys today have no respect.” That’s surface-level stuff. The real issue runs much deeper. The question we need to be asking is: What are we feeding them?

And no, I’m not just talking about food—although, we’ll get to that. I’m talking about the spiritual food, the emotional food, the cultural food, and yes, the physical food we’re offering to this generation of boys who are trying to become men in a world that often denies them the space or guidance to do so.

When we were growing up, church wasn’t optional. You didn’t get to vote on it. Sunday morning, you got up, washed up, and showed up. Whether you sat quietly or got moved by the Spirit, you were there. And you were fed. Somebody prayed over you. A deacon laid hands on your shoulder. A church mother called you “baby” and meant it. You learned what it meant to carry yourself with dignity, even if you didn’t understand all the scriptures just yet.

Today? So many of our young men have no spiritual compass at all. They’re being raised by YouTube shorts, Tik Tok influencers, and video game avatars—not by elders, not by the Word, and certainly not by prayer. They are chasing “followers” instead of following faith. And that’s dangerous—because when life hits, and it will hit, they don’t have anything rooted deep enough to hold them steady.

Social media is a beast. It has distorted how these young men view themselves and the world around them. Likes and shares have become currency for confidence. A young man can post a picture and spiral into depression if it doesn’t “get traction.” Imagine living in a world where your value depends on how fast someone hits a button. That’s the emotional house of cards we’ve handed them.

And don’t overlook the bullying. It’s not just in the hallways anymore—it’s in their phones, in their rooms, under their pillows. What used to be whispered behind your back is now broadcast live. And nobody’s stepping in to intervene because we’ve normalized the chaos.

They’re out here comparing their real, messy, confusing lives to someone else’s perfectly filtered highlight reel—and they feel like they’re failing. But they’re not failing. We’re failing them by not protecting their minds and spirits from a system designed to keep them insecure and off balance.

Now, let’s talk about the music. When we were coming up, you had R&B groups pouring their hearts out, soul singers telling stories, gospel choirs lifting you up. Even hip-hop, in its early days, was about the struggle, the hustle, and the hope.

But now? A lot of what’s being pushed to our sons is hyper-violent, hyper-sexual, and spiritually bankrupt. It's not just catchy—it’s calculated. It glamorizes pain, glorifies disrespect, and strips away the humanity of both men and women. And they’re listening to this day in and day out, with no counterbalance, no one saying, “That’s not who you are.”

And yes, the food matters too.

Lord, when we were young, fast food was a privilege. That Friday trip to McDonald’s was a big deal—might’ve even been tied to your report card. The rest of the time? You were eating at the table. Real meals. Beans and wieners, liver and onions, fish on Friday, full dinner on Sunday. We weren’t just being filled—we were being nourished.

Today? Everything is fast. Everything is fried. Everything is fake. These boys are drinking more soda than water, eating food with more chemicals than nutrients, and then we wonder why they’re tired, unfocused, sluggish, and angry.

I remember listening to a doctor giving a talk years ago. He said he was seeing young men in their 20s with testosterone levels as low as men in their 80s. That’s not a mystery—that’s the food, the stress, the hormones, the screens, the lack of movement, the absence of rest.

So here’s the truth: If our young men are spiritually starving, emotionally drained, mentally manipulated, and physically undernourished—what kind of future are we expecting them to build? How can they lead homes, serve communities, and protect legacies when they haven’t been fed the things that help a man stand tall?

We can’t keep shaking our heads in frustration. We need to reach out with love, with guidance, with structure, and with intention. We’ve got to reestablish the village—because too many of our boys are growing up in deserts.

It’s time to step in. Not with judgment, but with presence. Not with lectures, but with lessons. Not with noise, but with nurture.

Let’s feed them right—in every way that matters.