Why Black Stories Matter Now More Than Ever: A Call to Protect Our Culture, Our Businesses, and Our Legacy
- hilerielindcommunity
- Nov 24, 2025
- 5 min read
There is a war being waged against Black culture in America, and it is not a metaphor. It is happening in real-time, in school board meetings where our history is being erased, in legislative chambers where our voting rights are being stripped, and in the systematic defunding of institutions like PBS and NPR that have long been platforms for our voices. Project 2025 is not a policy proposal; it is a blueprint for cultural annihilation. It seeks to silence our stories, erase our contributions, and reduce our existence to a footnote in someone else's narrative.
But here is what they do not understand: Black culture is not a luxury. It is a lifeline.
Our stories—the ones passed down through generations, the ones written in our books, the ones sung in our music, the ones archived in our independent bookstores—are the very foundation of our survival. They are how we remember who we are when the world tells us we are nothing. They are how we teach our children to resist when the system tells them to comply. They are how we build a future when the present is designed to break us.
This is why spaces like Reparations Books and Cafe are not just businesses. They are acts of resistance. They are sanctuaries. They are the modern-day equivalent of the juke joints and the freedom schools, the places where our people gather to be seen, to be heard, and to be whole.
The Legacy of Zora Neale Hurston: The Blueprint for Cultural Preservation
When I think about the work I am doing—building a bookstore, writing a dissertation, raising my children, and fighting to ensure that Black stories are not just told but protected—I think about Zora Neale Hurston.
Zora was a Capricorn, born on January 7, 1891, and she was relentless. She was an anthropologist, a folklorist, a novelist, and a playwright. She traveled through the rural South with a notebook and a recorder, documenting the songs, the sermons, the jokes, and the folktales of everyday Black people. She understood that our culture was not something to be ashamed of or sanitized for white consumption. It was something to be celebrated, archived, and passed down.
Zora's work was a form of proto-digital humanities. She was building a corpus of Black cultural data long before we had the language or the technology to describe it. She was doing the work of preservation because she knew that if we did not tell our own stories, someone else would tell them for us—and they would get it wrong.
But Zora's life also serves as a cautionary tale. She died in poverty, her work largely forgotten, buried in an unmarked grave. She gave everything to the culture, but the culture did not protect her. She was a genius who was never fully compensated for her brilliance.
This is why I call myself Zora 2.0.
I am taking her artistic spirit, her commitment to the vernacular, and her love for our people, and I am fusing it with a 21st-century understanding of generational wealth and sustainable success. I am learning from her triumphs and her tragedies. My bookstore is not just a cultural hub; it is an asset. My PhD is not just a degree; it is a key to intellectual and financial freedom. I am not just repeating her story; I am remixing it for a new generation, ensuring that the genius is celebrated and the artist is compensated.
Black-Owned Bookstores and Businesses Are Critical
When you support a Black-owned bookstore like Reparations Books and Cafe, you are not just buying a book. You are investing in a cultural archive. You are ensuring that the next generation has access to stories that reflect their reality, their history, and their potential.
Black-owned businesses are the economic backbone of our communities. They are where we gather, where we network, where we build. They are the places where a young girl can see herself on the cover of a book and realize that her story matters. They are the places where a young boy can learn about Malcolm X and Marcus Garvey and understand that resistance is not just possible—it is our birthright.
But these businesses are under siege. They are underfunded, under-supported, and often the first to be displaced when gentrification comes knocking. When we lose a Black-owned bookstore, we lose more than a business. We lose a piece of our collective memory. We lose a space where our stories are centered, not marginalized.
The Assault on Black Narratives
We are living in a moment where the very existence of Black stories is under attack. Project 2025 seeks to dismantle the Department of Education, ban books that tell the truth about slavery and racism, and defund any institution that dares to center Black voices. This is not about "parental rights" or "protecting children." This is about control. It is about ensuring that the next generation of Americans grows up believing that racism is a relic of the past, that systemic oppression is a myth, and that Black people have no one to blame but themselves for their circumstances.
This is why we must fight back. And the fight starts with supporting Black culture.
When you buy a book from a Black-owned bookstore, you are saying, "I refuse to let them erase us."
When you attend a reading or a book club at a space like Reparations Books and Cafe, you are saying, "Our stories matter."
When you share a post, leave a review, or tell a friend about a Black-owned business, you are saying, "We will not be silenced."
Zora Neale Hurston once said, "If you are silent about your pain, they'll kill you and say you enjoyed it."
We cannot be silent. Not now. Not ever.
I am building Reparations Books and Cafe because I refuse to let my children grow up in a world where their stories are banned, their history is erased, and their culture is commodified without compensation. I am writing my dissertation because I refuse to let the academy define Black women's experiences without our voices at the table. I am living my life as Zora 2.0 because I refuse to repeat her tragedy.
Support Black-owned bookstores. Buy Black books. Tell Black stories. Protect Black culture.
This is not just about economics. This is about survival. This is about legacy. This is about ensuring that when our children ask, "What did you do when they tried to erase us?" we can look them in the eye and say, "I fought back."
Visit Reparations Books and Cafe at reparationsbooksandcafe.com. Learn more about my work at hilerielind.com.
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