By Rodney LaBruce

"When you control a man's thinking you do not have to worry about his actions."
— Carter G. Woodson, The Mis-Education of the Negro (1933)

We’ve all heard it—go to school, get good grades, graduate from college, and success will follow. That’s the recipe, right? It’s what’s been preached in classrooms, churches, and dinner tables for generations. But for many Black Americans, especially Black men, that promise often comes up short. It’s not that education doesn’t matter—it absolutely does—but the idea that it erases discrimination? That’s a myth. A comfortable one. But a myth nonetheless.

Sociologist Devah Pager blew the lid off this idea with a landmark study in Milwaukee and later in New York. She sent out resumes that were nearly identical—same qualifications, experience, everything—but varied the applicant’s race and whether they had a felony record. The result? White men with a felony were more likely to get a callback for a job than Black men with no criminal record at all. Let that sink in. A white man with a known conviction had a better shot at employment than a Black man who played by every rule.

Think about what that says. When people claim that Black communities just need to value education more or stop getting in trouble, they’re ignoring the fact that even when those boxes are checked, racism doesn’t magically disappear. The playing field is still tilted—heavily.

And it’s not just about criminal records. Another study sent out resumes from Black graduates of elite universities—Harvard, Yale, Stanford—to top firms. They were stacked against resumes from white applicants who went to schools that weren’t nearly as prestigious, places like the University of California at Riverside. Even then, the white applicants got more callbacks. A fancy degree didn’t do much to level the field. That’s not just bias—it’s a slap in the face to the myth that hard work and credentials are enough.

It turns out that no matter how impressive the resume, being Black can still be a disqualifier in the eyes of some employers. They may not say it outright. They don’t have to. It shows in the silence, in the missing email, in the job offer that never comes.

William Julius Wilson, a respected sociologist, once suggested that what some Black men may be missing are “soft skills”—traits like communication, teamwork, and professionalism. In other words, they may not come across as polished as their non-Black counterparts. But let’s be clear: this wasn’t a statement from the 1800s—it was made in the 2000s. And while soft skills do matter, the idea that Black candidates lack them has often become a convenient excuse to shift blame from the system to the individual. Rather than confronting structural bias, it explains it away. The real issue isn’t a lack of soft skills—it’s that those skills are too often judged through a biased and culturally narrow lens.

What’s seen as confident in one person might be labeled aggressive in another. What’s casual for one group might be 'unprofessional' for someone else. We can’t ignore how cultural expectations and coded language feed into these judgments. And let’s not forget how often 'fit' becomes a way to exclude those who don’t look or talk like the rest of the team. When a company hires mostly through referrals, and those referrals are mostly white, the cycle continues.

Even when Black professionals do get hired, they often face a workplace where they have to work twice as hard to get half as far. Fewer promotions. More scrutiny. Less mentorship. And yes, less pay. Studies have shown that Black college graduates earn less than their white peers with the same degrees. That wage gap doesn’t go away with more education. It just gets dressed up in new excuses.

This isn’t to say education isn’t valuable. It is. It opens doors, creates opportunities, and builds confidence. But we’ve got to stop pretending it’s a cure-all. It’s not a magic bullet that kills off racism. It’s a tool—and like any tool, it’s only as effective as the system it operates in. And right now, that system still has cracks, biases, and built-in disadvantages.

What’s frustrating is how often the blame gets flipped. When someone isn’t hired or promoted, the story becomes about their attitude, their presentation, and their supposed lack of polish. Rarely do we ask tougher questions about the hiring manager’s bias or the company’s lack of diversity. Rarely do we question the gatekeepers. That needs to change.

If we really want a fair and just society, we’ve got to start holding institutions accountable. Blind resume reviews. Clear, measurable hiring standards. Diverse interview panels. Transparent pay structures. These aren’t just checkboxes—they’re guardrails to make sure talent doesn’t get sidelined because of skin color.

And we need to tell the truth, especially to young people. Yes, aim high. Go to college. Learn all you can. But also know this: your worth is not measured by how close you can get to whiteness or how well you can mimic someone else’s version of 'professionalism.' We need to value authenticity and push for environments that welcome difference instead of punishing it.

In closing, let’s go back to Carter G. Woodson’s words: 'When you control a man’s thinking you do not have to worry about his actions.' The myth that education alone will protect you from racism is one way society controls thinking. It puts the blame on individuals rather than systems. It convinces people that if they’re struggling, it’s their fault—not the result of centuries of exclusion, bias, and unequal opportunity.

Discrimination doesn’t disappear with a degree. But if enough of us call it out—loudly and clearly—maybe we can begin to dismantle it.