A few years ago, I was watching content creator Tariq Nasheed, who was discussing how Black Americans are routinely grouped into crime statistics alongside immigrants who arrived in the United States long after the foundational population was already established. He pointed out a pattern many of us have observed for decades: when something negative is reported, the media collapses all so-called “Black” people into a single, undifferentiated group — regardless of origin, lineage, or historical context.

His argument was straightforward: each group should be responsible for itself, and that responsibility begins with accurate identity. On multiple occasions, Nasheed used the term “Native Black American,” crediting its popular use to Dr. Claude Anderson, a well-known author and political economist whose work has long focused on Black history, economic development, and the rebuilding of Black American communities through self-sufficiency and institutional awareness.

As the term Native began circulating, callers flooded Nasheed’s broadcasts claiming they too were native to America. His response was telling: the language was not strong enough. He argued that Black Americans needed an identifier that was more precise — something that could not be easily appropriated or “crowbarred” into by those without the lineage.

Out of that moment, the term Foundational Black American (FBA) was introduced to me — intended to describe Indigenous Americans who had been historically reclassified as Negro, Colored, Black, African American, and similar labels over time.

Now, in 2026, a new narrative has emerged. FBA is increasingly being described as a cult, with accusations that Nasheed himself is its leader. From the outside — particularly to those not of the American lineage — I understand how it can be framed that way. Any group that insists on delineation in an era obsessed with sameness is bound to face resistance.

That said, I want to be clear about my own position.

I do not personally use the identifier FBA. Not because I reject the lineage — I am very much of it — but because I am exhausted by the constant cycling of names. In my lifetime alone, I have been identified as Black, African American, and Black American. Each shift promised clarity and instead delivered confusion. I simply do not have room for another identifier, though I do not dismiss it either.

One thing I do appreciate about the term FBA or Foundational Black American is that it was not forced upon us — unlike African American, which was publicly popularized by Rev. Jessie Jackson and politically assigned. What is notable is that many so-called African Americans are embracing the term FBA voluntarily and, in many cases, proudly. As long as native Black Americans are the ones agreeing to and defining the identifier themselves, I have no objection. This is a great sign that native Black Americans are ON CODE.

What concerns me more is this: moving away from the term “African American” without replacing it with documented truth has caused real harm — especially considering that most of us may not be African by origin. Identity cannot survive on slogans or acronyms alone. Without records, land documentation, census data, newspapers, and contemporaneous evidence, any label — no matter how well-intended — will eventually be challenged, diluted, or redefined by others.

That is where Trace Thy Roots stands apart.

This blog is not here to promote movements, personalities, or identifiers. It exists to document, archive, and preserve the historical record of Indigenous Black Americans through primary sources — the only language history ultimately respects.

Names may change.

But records don’t.