FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Minneapolis, MN—January 30, 2025—Across the country, conversations about fairness, access, and opportunity are being quietly set aside, as if the work of building a more just society is complete. But stepping away from these conversations doesn’t make the barriers disappear—it only ensures that those barriers persist. In a moment when some are choosing to look away, Adair Mosley is calling us to look closer. His latest op-ed, The Uncomfortable Truth About Opportunity in America, published in the StarTribune, is not just timely—it’s a necessary reckoning.

Mosley’s piece arrives at a critical juncture, reminding us that the idea of a true meritocracy—where talent and effort alone determine success—remains an aspiration rather than a reality. For too many, the doors of opportunity are still shut, not because of a lack of ability or ambition but because of deeply entrenched systems that determine who gets a chance and who is left behind. As long as talent is overlooked based on race, background, or zip code, we will continue to waste human potential and economic opportunity.

This is not just another conversation about equity. It’s a call to face the uncomfortable truths about access, opportunity, and who gets to succeed in America.

Read the full op-ed below:

The Uncomfortable Truth About Opportunity in America

We find ourselves at a painful crossroads—teetering between hope and despair, between the desire to educate and the exhaustion of repeating the same patterns. Reflecting on the past five years, the conversations I’ve had, the spaces I’ve entered, and the questions I’ve answered, it’s clear that we are not addressing the real issue.

When George Floyd’s murder ignited a global reckoning, I was inundated with questions from people who earnestly wanted to help. Many of these were Republicans asking, “What can I do?” We sat together in rooms where the air was heavy with tension but also charged with possibility. These individuals sought ways to support change, often looking to fund initiatives that promised to make a difference. Yet the more I spoke to policymakers and community stakeholders, the more I realized that the framing mattered.

When I approached the conversation through an economic lens, they got it. Talk about workforce shortages or missed economic potential, and the room would lean in. Hope stirred. Policymakers grew excited about addressing these crises in actionable ways. I saw that same hope take root in Minneapolis, where efforts to diversify the police force reflected an understanding that talent exists everywhere, even in neighborhoods we often overlook. The next future Ben Carson might be walking the streets of North Minneapolis right now. But here’s the uncomfortable truth: in America, his potential might still be dismissed, not because of his promise but because of his skin color.

The data is stark. Black Americans comprise just:

• 9% of the STEM workforce
• 5% of doctors
• 9% of commercial pilots
• 3% of U.S. business owners

These aren’t just numbers. For generations, merit was never the real criterion. Your skin was the gatekeeper. And now, as those gates inch open, the reaction from some corners is not a celebration of untapped potential but a retreat into defensiveness. Too often, people perceive the economic advancement of Black Americans as a threat rather than a national strength.

We often frame Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) as a fight for fairness. But fairness isn’t the core issue—access is. Access to opportunity. Access to resources. Access to belief. True equity isn’t charity or lowering standards. It’s about recognizing the inherent humanity and potential that exists in every community, if only we’re willing to nurture it.

Most people say they want to live in a post-racial society, but the truth is we still very much live in a racialized world. Our churches, neighborhoods, and streets reflect this reality. We have failed to embrace what it means to live in a multicultural world. Being “colorblind” is unrealistic and counterproductive. Ignoring race denies identity and diminishes lived experiences. I don’t want to erase identity; I want to see it—and remove the barriers that limit its ability to thrive.

Some say protections like affirmative action and workplace discrimination laws are no longer necessary. However, history shows otherwise. Without safeguards, power consolidates, and inequities persist. The data proves it:

• Resumes with traditionally Black names receive 36% fewer callbacks than identical ones with white-sounding names.
• Black workers earn just 75 cents for every dollar earned by white workers with the same education.
• Only 1% of Fortune 500 CEOs are Black, though Black people represent 13.4% of the U.S. population.

This isn’t meritocracy. It’s systemic exclusion.

The question isn’t whether protections are necessary—the data makes it clear they are. The real question is whether we’re brave enough to confront the uncomfortable truths about power and privilege. Are we ready to move beyond outdated narratives that frame DEI as a “burden” or a “threat?”

The pushback against DEI isn’t about merit—it’s about fear. But equity isn’t a zero-sum game. When every zip code can nurture its talent, our economy grows stronger, our communities healthier, and our nation closer to its ideals.

For further information or media inquiries, please contact:

Dara Beevas
dara@aalftc.org