Girl, I saw that stat, just like I’m sure you have. And just like you, I was not surprised.
This week, the New York Times reported that just 19 percent of Howard University’s student enrollment is young Black men. More than 70% of the famed HBCU is made up on young Black women. To add insult to injury, there are now about as many non-Black students attending HBCUs as there are Black men.
Sadly, this data wasn’t that shocking to me. For years I’ve observed college classes filled to the brim with girls, far outnumbering their male counterparts. But this chasm didn’t happen by itself. Blame it on patriarchal-induced coddling or just a sluggish economy, it’s time to change the way we’re talking about this issue because it’s not getting us anywhere.
Let’s stop saying Gen Z doesn’t want to work.
That damaging trope—that this new generation is too sensitive, too entitled, too hard to manage—has been lobbed at young people trying to make sense of a job market that looks nothing like the one their parents entered. It’s easy to critique from the sidelines, to dismiss them as “difficult” when they ask for remote work, a livable wage, or mental health support. But the truth is this: Gen Z isn’t failing the workforce. The workforce failed them first.
We act surprised when 22-year-olds, namely males, freeze up in interviews, struggle to write cover letters, or ghost recruiters. But when, exactly, were they supposed to learn any of this?
In many public schools—especially those in Black and Brown communities—career prep programs have been gutted or never existed at all. Resume workshops, mock interviews, and financial literacy classes are often replaced with endless standardized testing. Internships are increasingly unpaid, locking out students who can’t afford to work for free. And mentorship? That’s a privilege, not a guarantee.
Add in a global pandemic that wiped out internships, campus career fairs, and hands-on learning opportunities, and you begin to understand why this generation is struggling to navigate the world of work. They’re not unmotivated. They’re underprepared—and not by choice.
A new survey says Gen-Z job seekers aren’t getting hired because they’re unprofessional and poor communicators.
Well, I’ve spoken to countless young people—many of them Black women—who are doing everything right: applying for jobs, customizing their resumes, reaching out to professionals for advice. And still, they’re stuck. They’re told to network, but they say that no one’s taught them how to start a conversation on LinkedIn. They’re told to “sell themselves,” but no one’s explained how to translate a part-time retail job into “transferable skills.”
Then, when they inevitably stumble, the finger-pointing begins.
What’s especially maddening is that we’ve seen this play out before. Millennials were labeled the “job-hopping” generation for daring to leave toxic workplaces. Now, Gen Z is being accused of the same, even as they inherit a job market with rising costs of living, shrinking entry-level roles, and a deep distrust in traditional corporate culture.
Here’s what Gen Z knows that older generations are still catching up to: working hard doesn’t guarantee security. Loyalty doesn’t guarantee respect. And burnout isn’t a badge of honor.
For instance, Millennials are experiencing high rates of burnout, with studies indicating that a significant portion report feeling burned out in their jobs, often citing factors like financial pressures, career uncertainty, and the pressures of modern life.
A Gallup study found that 50% of workers aged 18-34 reported feeling burned out, compared to 34% of those aged 55 and older.
I know what you’re probably thinking, particularly about young Black men – why aren’t they in the trades?
Black men are underrepresented in skilled trades due to a combination of historical systemic discrimination, namely lack of access to apprenticeships and training, and persistent stereotypes, which have led to fewer opportunities for entry and advancement. And while it’s still no excuse (Black women are enrolling in trade programs at record numbers), this explanation at least opens a larger conversation that could help push the younger generation in the right direction.
So, rather than mocking them for setting boundaries or choosing mental health over hustle, we should be asking: What would it look like to actually prepare young people for the workforce?
That means reinvesting in career education in schools. It means expanding paid internships and apprenticeships. It means building mentorship pipelines that reflect the diversity of Gen Z itself. And it means employers need to stop expecting “perfect” candidates for entry-level roles while doing the bare minimum to onboard and train them.
Young people are ready to work. They just need a fair shot—and a little grace. Because navigating the job hunt without a roadmap doesn’t mean you’re lost. It means you were never shown the way.
