The story of the Black man in Bermuda is one marked by endurance, pride and contribution, but increasingly it is also one of decline, despair and erasure.

We stand on the shoulders of ancestors who survived slavery, fought for civil rights, built communities and contributed immeasurably to Bermuda’s development. Their legacy is woven into every corner of this island. And yet, somewhere along the way, that legacy has come under threat.

There was a time in Bermuda when the Black man stood tall, rooted in family, faith and purpose. He was the provider, the protector, and the moral compass of the household and the community. Despite the oppressive structures of segregation and discrimination, Black men led movements, educated their children and built businesses from the ground up. They found strength in unity and pride in progress.

But over the decades, something changed. As the doors of opportunity slowly began to open, the very systems that once excluded Black men evolved — not always to include them, but to weaken their influence.

The promise of progress was unevenly delivered. Our educational system, once a source of pride and empowerment, began to falter, leaving too many young Black boys behind. The trades and vocations that once offered dignity and a path to independence were devalued. Economic disparities widened, and access to capital and high-paying jobs remained elusive for many.

At the same time, family structures within the Black community began to erode. The presence of strong male figures in the home diminished, often replaced by absence and silence. Too many of our young men are growing up without guidance, without mentorship, without belief in their own potential. With limited access to real opportunity and even less belief that things can change, some have turned to crime, gangs and violence — not because it is in their nature, but because it becomes a desperate substitute for belonging and survival.

This is not simply a failure of the individual. It is a collective failure of our society, our systems and, yes, even our own community.

We must be honest about how we got here. Political leaders have too often made promises without delivering meaningful change. The private sector has been slow to embrace equity, inclusion and the development of Black talent. And within our own communities, we have at times failed to hold ourselves accountable, to uplift each other and to invest in the generations coming behind us.

But all is not lost.

Bermuda’s Black man is still here, still capable, still brilliant, still essential. What is needed now is a renewed commitment to his rise. We need mentorship programmes that impact positively beyond the surface. We need education reform that addresses the real issues. We need job creation, entrepreneurship support, mental health services, and above all, we need to restore a sense of identity and purpose.

The decline of the Black man in Bermuda is not just a community issue; it is a national crisis. When he falters, families falter. When he disappears, so does stability. But when he rises, we all rise.

It is time to reclaim what was lost and fight for what is still possible. The Black man in Bermuda is worth saving. The question is, will we do what’s necessary to help him rise again?

Recently, during a Sunday morning worship service, the Right Reverend Vernon Lambe delivered a message that resonated with me: “Take the limits off.”

It was more than a sermon. It was a call to action. And I believe that message is not only timely, but prophetic for where we are as a country.

We have placed limits on each other, limits on what we believe others are capable of, on how far we think someone can go based on where they come from, how they speak, or what they look like. We have limited our expectations, our vision and our compassion. Somewhere along the way, we stopped being our brother’s keeper. We started competing instead of connecting. We began tearing down instead of building up.

But that’s not who we are at our core.

We come from a place where unity was a survival tool, and lifting each other up was second nature. That spirit still lives within us. It may be buried under the weight of disappointment and disillusionment, but it’s there. And if we’re going to see real change, not just for the Black man, but for Bermuda as a whole, we must take the limits off.

Take the limits off our potential. Take the limits off our vision for what this country can be. Take the limits off our youth, who need to see more than just what surrounds them today. Take the limits off the conversations we are willing to have, the truths we are willing to face.

The rise of the Black man in Bermuda will not happen through passive hope or political slogans. It requires bold leadership, renewed brotherhood and a willingness to see each other not as threats, but as brothers and builders of the future. We must invest in each other, believe in each other and expect more from each other.

The greatness is still there. The potential has not disappeared. But we must remove the limits.

• John Seymour was the One Bermuda Alliance candidate for Pembroke East Central (Constituency 16) in the February 2025 General Election