I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the allowance of grief. When minoritized people in the United States are dealing with the loss of a loved one, it often comes with high costs. We lose a loved one, but we also lose the home they were living in. We learn that they couldn’t afford life insurance, so we have to scrounge up money for the funeral. More things get taken away, and this too is rooted in Black and brown people not having the ability to accrue generational wealth.

When my father died in 2020 a wealthy land developer in Fredericksburg, Virginia purchased his debt. While my family and I have been grieving his passing, we have also been fighting for everything he has worked for.

For those who do not know, my father Vernon Keeve, Jr. grew up in rural poverty, earned his way into college through the sacrifice of his body (star football player in high school), through early-stage DEI efforts got into a regionally prestigious law school, and over time built a tiny empire that he hoped to leave to a long line of Keeves he would never meet. Early-set on dementia disallowed him to settle all of his debts before he died, placing him and his accomplishments in a very vulnerable position.

Robbing Black people of their land in this country has roots in massacres, redlining, unfair practicing of imminent domain, etc. Even when purchasing the properties my father faced a tremendous amount of racism and was unable to get traditional loans. In order to attain the childhood home I am trying to save, my father had to make a deal with the owner and pay her directly. He often had to save the money he earned from personal injury cases, and purchase the properties he accumulated with outright cash–because of racist practices at local banks.

My father faced a lot of violent and financial discrimination when trying to purchase a home in predominantly white neighborhoods in Fredericksburg, Virginia in the 1980s. He initially purchased a home near a known university in the city, but relinquished it when it was vandalized by white neighbors upon them hearing that it was purchased by a Black man. It was vandalized so badly that the man from which my dad purchased the home returned the money and apologized for the racism my father had experienced.

And even though my family faced discrimination when we moved into my childhood home, it is the place where we made memories. It was the home my father made for us, and it is the place to which we return to feel close to his spirit.

I know we are moving into very murky waters in this country, but if you are to in any way able to help my family save our childhood home and some of the properties my father fought tooth and nail to purchase, we would be forever grateful, and we will use your kindness as a way to pay kindness forward. I would like to in some way help other Black families hold on to their land when it is at risk of being stolen through malfeasance in policy and banking.