Editor’s note: The following article is an op-ed, and the views expressed are the author’s own. Read more opinions on theGrio.
America is so used to watching Black people endure that it is unprepared for what happens when we decide to leave. Many of us are leaving quietly, strategically, and using our passports instead of protest signs. I made my U.S. BLAXIT decision in early January, and I am far from alone.
BLAXIT, the new Black exit from the United States, is not about running from hardship. It is about refusing to normalize oppression disguised as policy, procedure, and patriotism. It is the moment when staying begins to feel like consent and leaving becomes an act of self-preservation. Many non-Black protesters have noticed the absence of Black protestors on the front lines. Collectively, we have silently agreed to sit this one out. The fight was at the voting polls in November 2024, when 92 percent of Black women voted for Kamala Harris. Now, as many have said, we’ve done our part. We now choose peace and protection.
For generations, Black Americans have been told to hold on, push through, and wait for progress to catch up. Endurance has been framed as loyalty. Suffering as proof of citizenship. But the political climate of this moment feels different in ways that are hard to ignore. Federal policy debates, court rulings, and public rhetoric increasingly signal who is protected and who is expendable. For Black families, that message lands with historical weight.
Within our community, there is a familiar refrain: “We’ve been here before.” It is meant to steady us, to remind us that we survived enslavement, Jim Crow, the civil rights era, and mass incarceration. But that phrase has limits. Because while oppression itself is familiar, this configuration of power is not. We have never lived through a moment when democratic norms feel this fragile, when institutional protections erode so quickly, and when accountability at the highest levels of government appears optional.
What shifted something in me was not a single headline or executive order; it was watching historians leave. In the spring of 2025, scholars who study authoritarianism, fascism, and historical collapse began quietly relocating out of the country. These were not influencers chasing lifestyle upgrades. These were academics trained to recognize early warning signs. When people whose entire careers are built on understanding how societies unravel decide not to stay and document it from inside the house, that is not noise. That is a canary in the mine.
Black Americans are particularly attuned to these signals, as we are a people shaped by generational memory. The difference now is scale and speed. Never before in American history has there been such open authoritarian language alongside legal arguments for expanded immunity at the highest levels of power. That combination is new. And it matters.
Critics will say this is alarmist. They will argue that Americans have always lived abroad, that emigration data is imprecise, and that the United States still attracts millions of immigrants. All of that can be true while something else is also true: Black Americans are increasingly choosing not to wait and see how far systems will bend before they break. A 2025 CBCF survey found that approximately 40% of Black Americans who were not previously considering leaving the U.S. began considering it in the aftermath of the election.
The part no one wants to say out loud is this. Historically, those with foresight and resources move first. Jewish families who recognized the early signs of fascism in Europe did not wait for consensus. They left while borders were still open. Poorer families, without that option, were forced to endure what followed. That lesson lives in Black memory too. It is not about fear. It is about agency.
BLAXIT is not impulsive. It looks impulsive to people who have never had to read warning signs for survival. That’s different. It is a refusal to gamble Black children’s futures on the hope that institutions will correct themselves in time.
Some of my family members are still in the United States. I am building the path deliberately because oppression does not require panic. It requires inaction. Leaving first, planning carefully, and creating options is not abandonment. It is protection.
Let’s start understanding Black family migration as a rational response to structural pressure. Black families deserve the freedom to choose safety, peace, and opportunity without being accused of giving up. The pursuit of happiness for Black families may be in another country.
And here is the call to action. If you are a Black parent feeling unsettled, trust your instincts and begin gathering information, watch YouTube videos, and join Black expat groups on social media. Build options. Talk openly. If you are a policymaker, understand this clearly: people do not leave systems that protect them.
Janice Robinson-Celeste is a former educator and the founder of Successful Black Parenting Magazine, a multi-award-winning publication that empowers Black families. She is a Public Voices fellow of the OpEd Project in partnership with the National Black Child Development Institute.
