The Calculated Pain of Financial Violence

Feb 05, 2025

woman holding baby beside man smiling — Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

For millions of Americans, Medicaid is not just a safety net; it’s a lifeline. Over 72 million people—children, the elderly, and those with disabilities—rely on Medicaid for basic healthcare. And yet, on January 28, 2025, Medicaid websites are mysteriously down following Trump's funding freeze, throwing vulnerable individuals into a state of uncertainty and panic. Add to this the looming freeze on school lunch funding, which feeds poor children, and a chilling pattern emerges: a deliberate assault on the poor by the wealthy and powerful.

This calculated financial violence has its architects: Trump, Elon Musk, and others in their ilk. Musk—a man who moved to Texas to avoid paying taxes—is now telling the public, “There will be hardship.” But who will bear the brunt of this hardship? Certainly not Musk, whose wealth grows exponentially even as he refuses to pay his fair share. No, the pain will be borne by the children who go hungry, the single mothers scrambling to make ends meet, and the elderly who’ve spent their lives contributing to society only to face indignity in their final years.

Trump’s first term in office provided us a roadmap of what we’re seeing today. He gutted essential social programs, destabilized federal agencies, and painted himself as the hero of a working-class America he continues to betray. Now, in concert with billionaires like Musk, he’s doubling down on this economic warfare, emboldened by a system that rewards cruelty and shields the obscenely wealthy from accountability.

But let’s be clear about who these programs serve. The narrative perpetuated by right-wing media paints Medicaid, SNAP, and other social safety nets as “Black programs.” They portray Black and brown people as the face of poverty, as undeserving recipients of government “handouts.” This is a lie. The majority of Medicaid recipients are white, as are the majority of people who rely on school lunch programs and SNAP. Yet Black people, who own less than 2% of the nation’s wealth and face persistent structural racism, bear the brunt of the stigma and scapegoating.

It is exhausting to see this same cycle repeat, decade after decade. I grew up hearing my mother say she wanted a government job because it offered stability and benefits. For many Black families, that’s been the goal: government jobs, home ownership, and education as pathways to a better life. But no matter how hard we work, the goalposts are always moved. Corporate America remains hostile to Black advancement, as I have experienced firsthand. Government jobs, long a bastion of stability for Black workers, are now being systematically targeted. And education, while invaluable, has left many of us saddled with debt in a society that continues to devalue Black excellence.

What we’re witnessing now is not accidental. It is a deliberate strategy to strip resources from the most vulnerable while the wealthy amass more power. Trump’s policies and Musk’s rhetoric are just the latest chapters in a long history of financial violence that disproportionately impacts Black communities. This is about control. It’s about maintaining a racial caste system by ensuring that Black and brown people remain economically oppressed, all while using us as scapegoats to deflect from the real culprits.

The wicked spread themselves like a green bay tree, as Psalm 37:35-36 so aptly states:

³⁵ I have seen the wicked in great power, and spreading himself like a green bay tree.
³⁶ Yet he passed away, and, lo, he was not: yea, I sought him, but he could not be found.

This scripture reminds us of the transient nature of evil power. The wealthy and wicked who plot the suffering of others may seem untouchable now, but their time is limited. Their legacies will not endure. What will endure is the collective strength of those who refuse to bow to this system. What will endure is the righteousness of those who stand up and fight.

To those complicit in this destruction—those who voted for Trump, those who remain silent, those who cry out now only because they’ve been personally affected—I say this: You helped build this. Your deference to the golden statue will not spare you. Your cries for help now ring hollow to those of us who have been fighting all along.

And yet, for the innocent caught in this web of greed and hatred, for the frightened children, for the families who don’t know how they will survive, I lift my voice. I lift it because someone must. I lift it because silence is complicity.

James 4:6-7 tells us:

But he gives us more grace. That is why Scripture says: “God opposes the proud but shows favor to the humble.” Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.

There is power in resistance. There is power in truth. And there is power in humility before God, even as we roar against injustice. We must resist the devils of greed, racism, and apathy. We must expose their schemes, confront their lies, and demand better for ourselves and our communities.

This is not just about policy; it is about humanity. It is about the soul of a nation that has long been at war with itself. And while the wicked spread themselves like a green bay tree, we must remember that their time is fleeting. Justice will come. Until then, we fight.

To my readers, I leave you with this question:

What are you doing to resist?

To the Black mothers, fathers, students, and workers who are tired and angry but still fighting: You are seen, you are valued, and you are not alone. And to those who have been complicit, it is not too late to join the fight for what is right. But know this: Silence is not an option, and neutrality is a myth.

The time is now.