By: Roy Douglas Malonson
“I’m grown!” It’s a phrase echoed in countless Black households across America, often followed by rolled eyes, heavy sighs, or a quiet prayer from a weary parent. But here’s the truth: being grown isn’t just about age. It’s about responsibility. And somewhere along the line, we’ve allowed the definition to slide.
Across the country, a growing number of young Black adults are still living at home with no job, no income, no plan—and yet are quick to declare their independence. While economic factors play a role, there’s a deeper issue at hand: a generational identity crisis, and it’s shaking the very foundation of the African American household.
Let’s be real. In the middle of the day, a mother is at work, a father is picking up a second shift, and their adult child—21, 25, even 30—is in the bedroom scrolling TikTok, playing PS5, or dreaming about starting a rap career that’s still “in the works.” No résumé. No rent contribution. No groceries brought in. But the moment accountability shows up? “Don’t talk to me like I’m a child. I’m grown.”
Where did this come from?
Some blame the culture. We’ve glamorized soft life dreams and online fame without showing the grind behind it. Others blame the economy—sky-high rent, student loan debt, and job markets that seem rigged against young Black professionals. But many elders in the community are beginning to ask: Is it economic hardship—or is it entitlement?
Decades ago being grown
meant leaving the house at 18—sometimes with nothing but a prayer, a suitcase, and a plan. It meant sacrifice, long hours, and survival. There was pride in providing. Today, some in our community have replaced that pride with procrastination, all while demanding the respect of elders they’ve yet to become.
This isn’t just about “kids being lazy.” This is about a cultural wake-up call. In too many cases, adult children are weaponizing the phrase “I’m grown” to avoid growth itself. It’s not just hurting their future—it’s hurting the family unit.
Parents, meanwhile,
are suffering in silence. They’re drained emotionally, financially, and spiritually. Many are working overtime not to take family vacations, but to keep the lights on—for themselves and their jobless “grown” child. What used to be a home of love and discipline has become a place of resentment and tension.
We must also talk about parental guilt. Some parents—especially single mothers— carry guilt from the past. Maybe they were absent due to work. Maybe they overcompensated with leniency. Now, they feel they “owe” their child adulthood without requiring account- ability. But here’s a hard truth: Enabling is not love.
It’s time for a cultural intervention. In African American families, we often pride ourselves on “sticking together.” That’s a beautiful tradition. But sticking together doesn’t mean staying stuck. We can no longer afford to confuse support with stagnation.
We must return to values that uplift independence, not excuse laziness. Being “grown” should mean:
• Holding a job (even if it’s not your dream one)
• Paying some kind of rent or helping around the house
• Contributing to the family—financially, emo- tionally, spiritually
• Creating a plan for the future
• Respecting the people who’ve paved the way Community leaders, pastors, teachers, and yes—parents—must start having tough love conversations again. Not to shame our young adults, but to wake them up. Our future as a people depends on it.
Let’s be clear: the world is not waiting on unmotivated adults with Wi-Fi addictions. Rent is due. Bills are real. And grown folks work, struggle, learn, and grow. Period.
So the next time some- one in your house says, “I’m grown,” ask them this:
“If you’re so grown, then why are you still living like a child?”
It’s time to retire the phrase and replace it with action. Let’s raise a generation that doesn’t just talk about being grown— but proves it.
Because in the African American community, survival was never handed to us. We earned it.
Now it’s time they do too.
