Rev. Jesse Jackson’s legacy is often told through marches, campaigns, and speeches, but at its core was a commitment to the next generation. He famously said, “Your children need your presence more than your presents,” a reminder that investment in young people must be collective, not symbolic. As we observe Black History Month in the wake of his passing, the question is not only how we remember civil rights history, but how we extend it through policies and community investments that protect the wellbeing of Black youth today.

Black futures in the present tense

As a developmental scientist, and now, a new aunt to a beautiful baby boy, I find myself thinking often about the world we are building for our children’s Black futures. Holding him, I feel the tenderness of possibility and the weight of responsibility at the same time. Black History Month always invites reflection on where we have been, but this year I find myself thinking more urgently about where we are going, and what today’s decisions mean for the next generation.

Each February, we celebrate the resilience of Black communities. We tell stories of perseverance in the face of exclusion, discrimination, and structural neglect. These stories deeply matter. They remind us of the courage and creativity that carried previous generations forward when institutions failed them. However, resilience should never be confused with protection.

If Black History Month is also about Black futures, we must ask a harder question: What are we doing, collectively and institutionally, to support the wellbeing of Black young people growing up right now? For Black youth, wellbeing is deeply connected to the conditions in which they are growing up. Educational inequities, economic pressure on families, community violence, racial discrimination, and uneven access to supportive resources all shape development over time. These realities influence how young people see themselves, how safe they feel, and how possible the future appears.

The conditions that make futures possible

When I think about the world Black children are inheriting, I think about the conditions that make futures possible: the freedom to learn honest history, the ability to see oneself reflected in art and culture, the protection of journalists who tell the truth, and the economic stability that allows families to plan beyond survival. These are not abstract ideals. They are developmental conditions.

When the teaching of Black history becomes contested, when cultural institutions like the Kennedy Center become sites of political struggle, and when journalists documenting public life face arrest, young people receive a quiet message about what is fragile and what is protected.

We celebrate resilience without always addressing the conditions that demand it.

The same is true economically.

Rising unemployment among Black women, who disproportionately lead and sustain Black households, threatens not only income, but stability, predictability, and the sense of security children depend on to thrive. When caregivers’ economic footing becomes uncertain, youth wellbeing is affected in ways that ripple across development and education.

And yet, our responses often remain reactive. We invest in short-term programs instead of long-term prevention. We respond to crisis rather than building systems that make thriving possible. We celebrate resilience without always addressing the conditions that demand it.

Black History Month reminds us that progress has never been accidental. It has come from collective action and sustained investment in communities that were too often overlooked. The same must be true for youth wellbeing today. Protecting Black futures means investing in schools that support the whole child, communities that foster belonging and safety, and policies that reduce stress on families. It means recognizing that youth wellbeing is inseparable from the systems that shape daily life.

The promise in front of us

When I look at my nephew, I do not see policy debates or statistics. I see possibility. I see curiosity, joy, and a future still taking shape. I also see how deeply that future will depend on decisions adults are making right now… decisions about what we value, what we fund, and what we are willing to change. Black futures will not be determined by resilience alone. They will be shaped by whether we build institutions capable of supporting Black youth wellbeing in meaningful and sustained ways.

Honoring Black history requires nothing less.

Ashley Stewart, Ph.D., is a developmental scientist and the inaugural American Institutes of Research Health Equity Research Fellow at the Congressional Black Caucus Foundation.