The United States is in the midst of a historic intergenerational wealth transfer, with $84 trillion expected to pass from one generation to the next through 2045. For Black families, this moment carries as much risk as opportunity. The racial wealth gap has been centuries in the making, and unless we act expeditiously and with intention, the great transfer will widen divides instead of narrowing them.
As I argue in my new book, Aging While Black: A Radical Reimagining of Aging and Race in America, wealth is more than assets. It is legacy, culture and the stories we share across generations. If America is to seize this moment, we must confront deep-seated barriers, honor the wisdom of our elders, and create systems that enable wealth, of all kinds, to flow equitably into the future.
The great wealth transfer is already underway. Yet the racial wealth gap tells a sobering story. Median wealth for white families stands near $285,000, compared with just $44,890 for Black families. Without intervention, this transfer risks reinforcing persistent divides rather than correcting them.
This disparity is not incidental. It is the cumulative result of exclusion from homeownership, underfunded schools, discriminatory lending, and jobs that denied pensions and retirement savings. Wealth is not simply earned in a lifetime; it is inherited or denied across lifetimes. The wealth transfer underway is not neutral. It has the power either to codify past injustices or to disrupt them.
But the wealth transfer is more than financial. It is cultural. The stories, traditions, and wisdom of elders form a kind of legacy capital that can either be nurtured or neglected. Families that center Sankofa—remembering the past to inform the future—can pass on not just assets but also fortitude, identity and hope.
Black families have always passed on legacies of strength, even when financial assets were scarce. The Sankofa principle insists that the past must guide the future. In practice, this means intergenerational dialogue: elders sharing not only what they earned or saved, but what they endured, built, and imagined. These stories form the invisible architecture of wealth. When combined with intentional strategies for financial literacy and asset building, they can help transform scarcity into sustainability.
If the wealth transfer is to advance justice, it must address the distinct economic realities of Black women.
Black women sit at the intersection of systemic wage gaps, retirement insecurity, and wealth barriers. They live longer than their male counterparts, yet often with less retirement income, fewer savings, and limited home equity. Addressing the disparities faced by older Black women is not a narrow concern. When Black women thrive financially, the entire community benefits. Their security becomes a foundation for the next generation’s opportunity.
‘When we ensure Black women’s economic stability in elderhood, we secure the village itself.’
Black women have carried families, churches and movements on their backs. Yet the very systems they sustained failed to secure their financial futures. Social Security remains their lifeline, but it is not enough. Closing the gender and racial wealth gap requires policies that expand retirement savings options, strengthen caregiving supports, and reward the unpaid labor that Black women have shouldered for generations. When we ensure Black women’s economic stability in elderhood, we secure the village itself.
The statistics come alive in the story of my mother.
My mother’s story reflects the weight of structural barriers across a lifetime. Her dream was to teach, but Jim Crow barriers forced her to begin her career in Mississippi. Even when she returned to Louisiana, she was confined to a separate and unequal Black school system, paid less than her white counterparts, and expected to succeed with far fewer resources.
Though she served nearly three decades as a dedicated and gifted teacher, the long shadow of that systemic exclusion followed her into elderhood. Her healthcare, retirement income, and daily life all bear the scars of exclusion beyond her control.
Her experience is not unique. It is a vivid example of how disadvantages accumulate over time, leaving many Black elders with fragile security despite their life of commitment and service. Her journey embodies a deeper legacy of fortitude, wisdom and a commitment to family and community that continues to shape those who follow.
Fast forward to 2025, and Black women face the same challenges my mother endured—now compounded over generations. This year, the unemployment rate for Black women surged to 7.5%, well above the national average. Often serving as financial pillars in multigenerational households, the loss of their income stability leaves Black families even more vulnerable to widening wealth gaps.
The great wealth transfer poses a generational test for all of us. Will we allow the divides of the past to calcify, or will we use this moment to build new foundations for equity? As I ask these questions, three imperatives emerge:
- Policy reform to expand access to retirement savings, caregiving supports and asset-building opportunities.
- Family-level action to normalize conversations about money, legacy and responsibility across generations.
- Cultural recognition that wealth includes wisdom, stories and identity—the intangible assets that give meaning to financial ones.
Black America is at a crossroads. Whether we are ready for it or not, the great wealth transfer will happen. The question is how. For Black families, it can either reinforce structural divides or create possibility. Choosing the latter requires reimagining wealth in its fullest sense: financial, cultural, and communal. It requires centering the economic security of Black women, honoring the lived experiences of elders like my mother, and ensuring that both dollars and dignity flow forward.
Only then will the great wealth transfer become what it should be: a turning point toward justice, where wealth and wisdom move together to shape a more equitable future for all.
Raymond A. Jetson is the founder of Aging While Black.
Photo credit: Shutterstock/wavebreakmedia
