As a child, I was naturally curious, always asking, “Why?” and “How?” I think back to my third-grade teacher, Mrs. Gregory, at Winton Terrace, who taught me to seek answers through the five W’s and H: who, what, when, where, why and how. But my first real lesson in curiosity came from my mother, Alice, who often said, “Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it.” That lesson came after one of my famous foot stomps and whispered rebellions: “I can’t wait until I’m grown and move out.”
One day, a door-to-door salesman knocked on our door, selling encyclopedias. I begged my mother to buy a set. Eventually, after much pleading, she did. Those books became my first portal to the world. I spent hours flipping through pages, absorbing stories and histories — but even then, I knew there were gaps.
Fast forward to today, and my journey for knowledge continues — from encyclopedias to modern tools like Statista for data analysis and AI tools like ChatGPT. As technology evolves, I have grown increasingly curious about how AI handles historical information, especially Black cultural narratives, and what I have discovered is concerning.
There’s a problem with AI and history. Recently, I tested ChatGPT’s Consensus feature, which pulls from peer-reviewed studies. My question was historical rather than scientific: “In the 19th century, Samuel George Morton published Crania Americana, claiming that brain size determines intelligence. How did his work impact society?” Morton’s “findings” were used to justify slavery and racial hierarchies. His work was a lie, disguised as science, reinforcing systemic oppression.
What’s troubling is that AI tools are perpetuating these same biases.
As 2025 began, I realized we are at risk of losing more than we have gained in this digital age. If we do not take control of our stories now, algorithms will replicate the very biases that sought to silence us in the past reminiscent of the Reconstruction Era, Jim Crow laws and countless other moments of cultural erasure throughout U.S. history.
The danger lies in algorithmic bias. AI systems are trained on data riddled with historical gaps and prejudice. They absorb societal norms that elevate certain stories while erasing others. Black voices already marginalized in traditional archives face an even greater threat of digital invisibility. It is unsettling to think that as book bans spread across the country, AI could amplify this suppression. What happens when these systems recommend content? Whose stories get prioritized? Without active intervention, AI risks becoming a gatekeeper of knowledge, reinforcing exclusion instead of dismantling it.

Here’s a real example of digital erasure. I put my theory to the test with a simple question: “Who was the first all-Black high school boys’ basketball team to win a state championship?” Within seconds, ChatGPT responded: “Crispus Attucks High School in Indiana, 1955.”
It was not wrong, but it was not complete. The system omitted Lockland Wayne High School in Ohio, a significant piece of Black history that I personally helped document. In 2016, my close family friend Albert Seay, a proud graduate of Lockland Wayne High School, asked me to help document its basketball team’s story for Wikipedia. The research took 12 months of trial and error, persistence and countless edits. But the result was a Wikipedia entry that told the story of the first all-Black high school to win a state championship in 1952, three years before Crispus Attucks.
This achievement was monumental. It happened during segregation, at a time when Black athletes faced enormous barriers. A key figure in the story was Coach Joe Martin, whose leadership guided Lockland Wayne to historic victories. Coach Martin later became an assistant coach at the University of Cincinnati, where he helped shape the city’s basketball legacy.
Yet when I asked ChatGPT, Lockland Wayne’s legacy and Coach Martin’s contributions were missing. It makes me wonder what else is missing. What other stories are being erased, distorted or overlooked?
AI Bias: A Digital Warning. When I pressed ChatGPT further, it apologized and confirmed that Lockland Wayne’s victories were historically accurate, but the damage was done. Imagine your child preparing a Black history presentation using AI as their primary source. What critical stories will be left out?
One of my mother’s greatest lessons was, “You can never go back.” The omission of Lockland Wayne shows what happens when we do not actively protect our stories. AI tools are only as good as the data they are fed, and right now, that data is incomplete and biased. When others control our narrative, they distort it.
Preserving our history is wealth building. Some might ask, “Why focus on history when we need to build wealth?” To that, I say: “We cannot build wealth if we do not own our stories.” Our history is part of our cultural capital. The stories we tell shape how we see ourselves, how others see us and how we move in the world. Preserving our history is preserving intellectual property, and ownership of that narrative is essential to building generational wealth.
Think about how other communities build wealth through media, education and culture. Hollywood, publishing, museums and universities all profit from storytelling. Who owns the archives? Who controls the images of our ancestors, our movements and our contributions? If we do not claim it, others will.
Wealth is not just about money. It is about power, influence and legacy. Protecting our history means ensuring future generations see themselves reflected with dignity and pride.
When we own our stories, we create industries, books, films, tech, education that keep wealth circulating within our communities. So yes, we must build wealth. But if we lose control of our history, we lose control of the narrative that underpins all wealth-building efforts.
Our 2025 Playbook: Reclaim, Protect, Pass Down. The 2025 playbook outlined in “The Mandate for Leadership: The Conservative Promise” is a 920-page agenda aimed at rolling back Civil Rights protections, suppressing Black history and silencing our contributions. It is not just about AI bias — it is about political forces actively working to dismantle our progress.
But we have our own playbook. We are the Griots, the keepers of stories. Like the Indigenous people of the Americas, we cannot rely on mainstream narratives or AI tools to tell our stories. We must do it ourselves. For centuries, Indigenous communities have preserved their histories through oral traditions, songs and art. We must do the same. Our stories are living archives of truth, resilience and identity. They endure — even when the world tries to erase them.
What we must do now to reclaim our stories is support Black museums and archives, donate to Black history initiatives, make Black history part of everyday life — not just a once-a-year celebration — teach our children to question AI outputs and dig deeper.
Because we are enough. Our stories are enough. We do not need validation from AI to know our worth, but we do have a responsibility to ensure our history is preserved, celebrated and passed down to future generations.
Together, we can say with pride: ‘We Are Enough,’ and build our wealth. In this digital age, storytelling is resistance. If we do not take control of our narratives now, future generations will inherit stories written by those who never lived our experiences. Let us ensure that does not happen. We are more than data points. We are living history. Let us write a 2025 Playbook that ensures our legacy endures.
Yeah, we can’t depend on Target to record our history!
Great article in every way