WHY CAN’T WE GET IT TOGETHER? DR. UMAR JOHNSON ON THE CRISIS OF BLACK LOVE

September 13, 2025
2 weeks ago
Blogger And Article writer

Picture this: It’s a chilly January evening, the kind where you’re curled up with a hot drink, scrolling through YouTube, and you stumble across a conversation that stops you in your tracks. That’s what happened when I tuned into Hardly Initiated’s MLK Eve episode, featuring none other than Dr. Umar Johnson. You know, the kind of voice that makes you lean in, put your phone down, and really listen? Yeah, that’s the one.

The topic? The state of Black relationships today. And let me tell you, it was a raw, unfiltered dive into the heart of why so many of us are struggling to find love, keep love, or even trust love. Hosted by Taon Jackson and Ryan Catchings, this episode wasn’t just a podcast-it was a mirror held up to our community, reflecting the good, the messy, and the downright painful. I’m still unpacking it, and I bet you will be too after reading this.


A Crisis We Can’t Ignore

Dr. Umar didn’t waste time getting to the point. He called it a “major crisis”-this growing divide between Black men and women. You ever notice how cynicism creeps into conversations about love these days? Like, we’re all just waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Everybody’s so cynical about long-term relationships,” Taon said, and I felt that in my bones. Scroll through X or TikTok, and it’s a battlefield of memes and hot takes Black men and women pointing fingers, airing grievances, and questioning if we’re even built for love anymore.

But here’s the thing that hit me hardest: Dr. Umar tied this relational mess to something deeper, something historical. He took us back to the 1970s, post-Dr. King’s assassination, when the U.S. government, in his words, “decided to destroy the Black man’s ability to fund any future civil rights efforts.” Factories closed, jobs vanished, and high schools stopped teaching trades like carpentry or welding. Poof-gone were the ways Black men could provide without a college degree. “They made the Black man economically irrelevant to the Black woman,” he said, and I had to pause. That’s not just a soundbite; that’s a gut punch.

Think about it. If a man’s role is to protect and provide, but the system strips him of the ability to do so, what happens to the family? To trust? To love? Dr. Umar argues this economic devastation set the stage for the rise of single-mother households, which jumped in the ‘70s. Slavery didn’t break the Black family, he pointed out-our ancestors kept it together through unimaginable horrors. But the loss of economic power? That’s what cracked the foundation.


Trauma Talks Louder Than Love

Here’s where things got real. Dr. Umar didn’t just stop at history; he went straight for the soul. “When you get emotional, that’s your trauma talking,” he said. I had to sit with that one for a minute. How many times have you argued with someone-a partner, a friend-and realized later it wasn’t even about them? It was old wounds, old hurts, bubbling up. He explained that Black men and women are often “reacting from past hurt,” not the person in front of them.

This hit home for me. I remember a relationship where every disagreement felt like a referendum on my worth. Turns out, I was carrying baggage from childhood-feeling unseen, unheard. And my partner? She had her own ghosts. Dr. Umar’s point is that we’re out here dating, but we’re not healed. “Dating and mating has become the new drug,” he said, a way to escape facing our demons. Instead of sitting in solitude to process abandonment, abuse, or rejection, we jump from one relationship to the next. Sound familiar?

He told a story that stuck with me. Imagine a man rushing into a new relationship to avoid dealing with his mother’s abandonment or his uncle’s abuse. Or a woman who keeps dating to drown out the pain of her father’s absence. These aren’t just hypotheticals-they’re us. And until we take that “period of healing” Dr. Umar talked about, we’re just passing trauma back and forth like a bad cold.

The Money and Sex Trap

Now, let’s talk about the two things that dominate too many of our relationships: money and sex. Dr. Umar didn’t mince words here. “We’re the only men in America out-earned by our women,” he said, “and it’s by design.” That’s a bold claim, but he backed it up with history. The economic gutting of Black men in the ‘70s wasn’t an accident-it was a strategy. And now, we’re left with a dynamic where money becomes a wedge.

I’ve seen it myself. A friend of mine, a successful Black woman, once told me she couldn’t date a man who earned less than her. “It’s not about the money,” she said, “it’s about ambition.” But is it? Dr. Umar pointed out that the problem isn’t the income gap-it’s the interpretation. If a woman thinks a man’s lower earnings mean he’s lazy or irresponsible, that’s where the disrespect creeps in. And on the flip side, some men can’t handle a woman who out-earns them. Ego gets in the way, and suddenly, it’s a power struggle.


Then there’s sex. Oh, boy. Dr. Umar called out how we’ve reduced the Black woman’s body to a “pleasure object,” stripping away its sacredness. He talked about how the vagina is a “sacred space,” not just for physical intimacy but for creation-children, legacy, community. Yet, we’ve turned it into a transactional tool. And women? They’re not innocent either. The pressure to get BBLs, weaves, and tight jeans-it’s all part of a culture where we’re chasing superficial validation instead of real connection.

I laughed (and cringed) when he said, “If we told Black women we’re not messing with you unless you wear skirts again, they’d do it.” Why? Because deep down, we all want to be valued for more than our bodies or our bank accounts. But are we brave enough to demand that?

The Polygyny Debate and Other Hard Truths

Now, here’s where the conversation got spicy. Dr. Umar brought up polygyny as a potential solution to the “not enough Black men to go around” problem. In cities like Atlanta, where Black women outnumber Black men, he argued that plural marriage could be a practical fix-not forever, but until we rebuild our community. I could hear the collective gasp from the audience. Polygyny? Really?

But he had a point. If we’re honest, many women are already sharing men-just not openly. “The same sister who says she won’t partake in polygyny will date a married man,” he said. Ouch. He called it hypocrisy, and I couldn’t help but nod. How many times have we seen women compete over the same “alpha male,” knowing he’s got a whole roster? Yet, the idea of structured, transparent polygyny gets shot down because it’s about “reputation.”

I’m not saying I’m sold on the idea, but it made me think. What are we really afraid of? Is it sharing, or is it the judgment from other women? Dr. Umar suggested a Council of Elders to oversee plural marriages, ensuring they’re done with respect and accountability. It’s a radical idea, but maybe that’s what we need-radical solutions for a radical problem.

He also tackled interracial dating, and whew, that was a moment. “If she gave her cookies to that Caucasian slayer, I cannot go back into that cave,” he said, half-joking but dead serious. His reasoning? It’s not just about preference-it’s about ancestral respect. I felt the weight of that, even if I don’t fully agree. But when he shared stories of Black women being fetishized by white partners, called slurs in intimate moments, it gave me chills. Proximity to whiteness doesn’t equal acceptance. History proves that.

What Does Love Even Mean?

The conversation wasn’t all heavy. Dr. Umar dropped gems on what love should be. “Love is unconditional,” he said. Not a contract, not a checklist of conditions-if she gains weight, if he loses his job, if she wants to quit her career. Real love means you’re committed to someone’s best interest, even if it costs you.

I thought about my own life. How many times have I put conditions on love without realizing it? “If she does this, I’m out.” “If he doesn’t do that, we’re done.” Dr. Umar’s words made me pause. Maybe we’re not failing at love because we’re broken-maybe we’re just confused about what love is.

He broke down the four essentials for a healthy relationship: humility, communication, trust, and reciprocity. Without these, you’re not building a partnership-you’re signing a “pleasure contract.” And let’s be real, too many of us are out here living in situationships, calling them relationships. “You’re accountable to each other, even when you’re angry,” he said. That’s the difference.


A Path Forward?

As the episode wound down, I found myself reflecting on Tanya, a 49-year-old mother of four daughters who called in. She’s divorced, focused on raising her girls, and worried about how to model healthy relationships when their father is “kinda whatever.” Dr. Umar’s advice? Never speak ill of their dad, and if possible, do family activities together to show that even a broken relationship doesn’t have to be toxic. It was a small but powerful reminder: our kids are watching, and what we model shapes their future.

So, where do we go from here? Dr. Umar’s call to action was clear: we need to heal. Heal from the trauma of systemic oppression, heal from the wounds of our childhoods, heal from the distrust we’ve built up. He suggested councils of elders to handle disputes like child support, taking power back from a system that exploits our pain. He urged us to redefine love, to move beyond money and sex, to prioritize communication and humility.

I’m left with a question: Are we ready to do the work? To face our pain bodies, as Dr. Umar calls them, and build something real? Or will we keep chasing pleasure, dodging accountability, and wondering why love feels so out of reach?

This conversation was a wake-up call, a reminder that love in our community isn’t just about two people-it’s about rebuilding a legacy. I don’t have all the answers, but I’m inspired to keep asking the questions. What about you?

Drop your thoughts in the comments. What hit you hardest from Dr. Umar’s talk? And if you’re feeling brave, share one thing you’re doing to heal before your next relationship. Let’s keep this conversation going.