Most people who know me would say I am an advocate for people—committed to creating conditions where all individuals can live better lives. That drive comes from my own lived experience. I have been poor. I have been broke. I have been voiceless. I have been unseen. I have been victimized. But I am still here. And because I am here, I am attuned to the systems and people—both internal and external—that attempt to arrest our development.
Now, I find myself in the top of the seventh inning as Chairman and CEO of one of Missouri’s largest privately held banks. I am proud of my team and the work we are doing. We have come so far, yet we still have further to go. I take pride in the fact that we serve communities from deep south to deep north and everywhere in between.
But here’s what I have learned: Black leadership, particularly in industries like banking, comes with an unspoken burden. We are often expected to take on the highest-risk opportunities, sometimes at the expense of long-term sustainability. These expectations don’t come from one place—they come from the institutions we work in, helping organizations, the broader business community, and even our own communities.
… leadership isn’t just about making it to the table—it’s about staying there, growing there, and creating lasting impact.
This reflection is for Black professionals navigating leadership, for business owners and community members who engage with Black-led institutions, and for anyone who wants to understand how we can better support leaders of color—not with impossible burdens, but with real, strategic, and sustainable support.
Because leadership isn’t just about making it to the table—it’s about staying there, growing there, and creating lasting impact.
I remember preparing for one of my first Federal Reserve meetings years ago, thinking about the legacy of Black leadership in banking. One of the first Black people to ever lead a bank was Frederick Douglass. In March 1874, he was appointed President of the Freedman’s Savings Bank—just months before it collapsed in June of that same year. Exactly 100 years before my birth in 1974.
When I first joined the bank, I knew it was a tall order—not because I lacked skill, but because success in leadership isn’t about what people say they want for you; it’s about what you do—and what they do. I learned that lesson early as a foster kid, and it has served me well as a business leader.
Sometimes, institutions take what they consider a “risk” not because they truly believe in it, but because it helps with marketing. They run the numbers, determine they can afford the loss, and then say, “We tried.”
I am not built that way.
If I plug in, it’s because I believe. And if I believe, it doesn’t matter the risk you think I am—I do what is in my control to win.
Did you catch that?
When I became CEO in 2019, I could only identify one Black leader of a mainstream bank in the United States—me. I always left room for the possibility that there were others, but I was never able to confirm it.
As of October 2023, there are only 22 Black-owned banks in the United States, making up less than 1% of the nation’s 4,645 banks. These institutions continue to face significant challenges, including undercapitalization and heavily concentrated assets, which create outsized risks compared to mainstream banks.
There are many reasons for this, but that’s a conversation for another time.
While celebrating Black History Month, I found myself reflecting on my early years in banking—the challenges, opportunities, and unique expectations placed on Black leaders.
Early on, I noticed a pattern: the toughest deals—the ones no other bank would touch—always landed on my desk. These weren’t just challenging; they were the kind of deals that, if it were my own money, I wouldn’t fund. And neither would the person referring them to me.
At first, I saw it as a sign of trust—people believed I would give them a fair shake. But over time, I recognized a troubling pattern that extended beyond me to Black leaders and business owners as a whole.
We are often expected to take on the highest-risk deals, even when doing so could jeopardize the institutions we lead. And when we refuse, the sharpest criticism often comes from our own communities.
Why does this happen? Because well-meaning community members frequently direct the highest-risk borrowers to Black-led institutions—not because the deals are sound, but because Orvin Kimbrough is there, and he will give you a fair shake.
Let’s be clear: I believe in fairness. I will always give people a fair chance. But fairness isn’t recklessness.
If all I do is high-risk lending without balance, the institution itself is at risk. And when that happens, no one wins—not me, not the bank, and certainly not the community.
So, this raises a critical question for Black professionals, business owners, and community leaders:
Are we unintentionally reinforcing a cycle that limits Black leadership by sending only high-risk deals to Black-led institutions—while taking solid, bankable deals elsewhere?
Because that’s exactly what I see happening. The toughest deals come my way, but the bankable ones—the ones that ensure long-term institutional success—are still going to banks “down the street.”
I suspect Black-owned banks face the same phenomenon, which is part of the challenge they continue to navigate… but again, I’ll save that conversation for another time.
The Flawed Expectation of Sacrifice
To illustrate this, I often compare banking to heart surgery.
A heart surgeon is judged by their skill and the successful outcomes of their patients. Their expertise is the driving factor. The patient is passive, on the operating table, relying solely on the surgeon’s ability.
Banking isn’t like that.
As a banker, my role involves assessing risk, structuring deals, and providing guidance. But my success isn’t determined by my skill alone—it depends on the will and discipline of the client. Unlike a heart surgeon’s patient, my clients are still operating in real-time. Their choices, financial habits, and ability to execute a plan determine their outcomes.
And yet, the expectation remains: Black leaders in banking should take on all the hardest cases, even when those cases are unsustainable.
That’s not how banking works.
Banks aren’t in the business of absorbing extreme risk. There are other forms of capital for high-risk ventures, but too often, these options are unknown, overlooked, or simply out of reach—I get it. As a result, we assume that local banks—especially those led by Black leaders—should carry this burden, even when it threatens their stability.
Supporting Black Leaders Thoughtfully
If we want to see more Black professionals in leadership roles, we cannot set them up for failure. We must ensure that they receive opportunities that are viable, sustainable, and balanced.
That means:
- Recognizing that Black professionals don’t check their business sense at the door just because they care about their communities.
- Ensuring that when we send referrals, we send a mix—not just those needing help, but also those that contribute to the institution’s strength and longevity. We should not expect Black businesses and leaders to absorb losses, nor should we be judgmental when they expect to be profitable. After all, as I’ve said a thousand times—if it isn’t profitable, it isn’t sustainable.
- Advocating for Black-led institutions not just when they are needed to solve problems, but also when there is a mutual exchange of value and an opportunity to build long-term partnerships. Too often, we expect these leaders to show up everywhere, contribute everywhere—yet still take our business elsewhere.
A Call for Holistic Support: What You Can Do Today
Black history isn’t just about remembering the past—it’s about shaping the future. If we want stronger Black representation in banking, business, and leadership, we must support those who are already in these spaces in ways that allow them to thrive.
Here are three immediate ways to create meaningful change:
- Reframe Your Thinking on Black Leadership
- Recognize that Black professionals in leadership don’t check their business sense at the door. They are leaders first, not just figureheads for representation.
- Expect them to make sound business decisions, not just serve as safety nets.
- Change How You Engage with Black-Led Institutions
- When referring business to Black leaders or institutions, send a mix—not just those needing help, but also those that contribute to the institution’s strength and longevity.
- Consider where you do business and place your best deals—are they automatically going to institutions “down the street,” even when a Black-led institution is just as capable?
- Advocate for Fair and Sustainable Support
- If you’re in a position of influence, help direct resources, capital, and policy changes that level the playing field for Black businesses and institutions.
- Ensure that Black leaders aren’t just consulted for difficult cases but are also given space to innovate, grow, and lead on their own terms.
Let’s ensure that Black leaders don’t just survive—but succeed, thrive, and transform industries.
Because true empowerment isn’t about placing impossible burdens on Black leadership. It’s about creating the conditions where they can lead, innovate, and prosper.
Good work despite the odds black and brown business institutions increase and will continue.