Reclaiming Human Services: Confronting Racial Capitalism with Faith, Justice, and Courage

What if the systems designed to help us are also built to exploit us?

What if the systems designed to help us are also built to exploit us?
This uncomfortable question lies at the heart of today’s human services profession. From child welfare to healthcare to housing, these systems are meant to provide care, stability, and empowerment. But increasingly, scholars and practitioners alike are sounding the alarm: human services are often entangled in racial capitalism—a system that profits from inequality and uses race as a tool of control (Robinson, 1983; Leong, 2013).

So how can Christian human service professionals respond? How can we serve with integrity when the very structures we work in perpetuate harm? The answer begins with truth-telling—and ends with transformation.

What Is Racial Capitalism?

Racial capitalism is the idea that capitalism doesn’t just happen to exploit people of color—it needs to. As Cedric Robinson (1983) argues, capitalism developed through systems of racial domination, from colonialism and slavery to modern policing and low-wage labor markets.

Legal scholar Nancy Leong (2013) takes this further, explaining that institutions “derive value” from association with nonwhite individuals while maintaining whiteness as a marker of status and control. In other words, communities of color are included only in ways that benefit power structures—not to share power, but to fuel it.

And yes, this includes human services. As Roberts (2002) documents in Shattered Bonds, even the child welfare system has functioned as a racialized apparatus of family separation and surveillance. Similar dynamics show up across public health, education, and nonprofit sectors.

Where It Shows Up in Human Services

1. Child Welfare

Black children are placed in foster care at disproportionately high rates, often due to “neglect” rooted in poverty rather than abuse (Roberts, 2002). Instead of addressing the economic causes of hardship, the system punishes families for being poor—reproducing racial hierarchies under a benevolent banner.

2. Healthcare

COVID-19 exposed deep racial disparities in access to healthcare. Communities of color had higher infection and mortality rates, reflecting systemic disinvestment and environmental racism (Pirtle, 2020). Meanwhile, pharmaceutical companies and private health tech firms profited enormously—turning public health crisis into corporate gain.

3. The Nonprofit Sector

INCITE! Women of Color Against Violence (2007) introduced the idea of the “nonprofit industrial complex,” in which social justice efforts are funded by the same foundations that benefit from economic inequality. As Leong (2013) explains, diversity itself becomes commodified—used to polish the image of institutions without changing their structures.

A Christian Feminist Response

As people of faith, we must remember: every person is made in the image of God (Genesis 1:27). To be human is to be sacred. Jesus consistently stood with the poor, the oppressed, the outcast—not the comfortable (Luke 4:18).

Christian feminist theologians like Rosemary Radford Ruether (1983) and Ada María Isasi-Díaz (1996) have long taught that faith must center those most marginalized. This is not just about representation; it’s about redefining power. A Christian feminist approach sees justice as communal, embodied, and liberating—not transactional or hierarchical.

What Can Human Service Professionals Do?

1. Practice Critical Awareness

It starts with recognizing that we are not “outside” these systems—we’re in them. As Freire (1970) writes in Pedagogy of the Oppressed, true liberation begins when we name the systems that dehumanize. Ask yourself: Who benefits from this program? Who defines success? Who controls the funding?

2. Move from Charity to Solidarity

Traditional human services often operate from a model of charity—those with resources helping “those in need.” But solidarity asks us to listen, follow, and walk with. It centers the wisdom of communities and promotes mutual transformation (Isasi-Díaz, 1996).

3. Challenge Unjust Structures

Professionals must become advocates. As Howard Thurman (1949) argued, Jesus’ ministry centered the disinherited—not through passive compassion, but through active resistance to empire. From the policies we support to the partnerships we form, we must resist complicity.

4. Reform the Institutions Themselves

Change is not just personal—it’s organizational. That means pushing for equity in hiring, funding, leadership, and evaluation. Are community members deciding how services are delivered? Are staff trained in anti-racist practice? Are outcomes defined by those we claim to serve?

5. Ground the Work in Faith and Rest

Walter Brueggemann (2014) reminds us that Sabbath is not just rest—it’s resistance. In a culture of endless productivity and burnout, we resist racial capitalism by reclaiming our time, our relationships, and our sacred rhythm. Faithful resistance requires sustainability.

Why This Matters Spiritually

At stake is more than just professional ethics—it’s our witness.

To serve in human services while ignoring systemic injustice is to become what Jesus called “whitewashed tombs”—clean on the outside, dead within (Matthew 23:27). But when we align our work with God’s justice, we offer something holy. We offer healing—not just for individuals, but for communities broken by systemic sin.

“What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?” – Micah 6:8

This is not a metaphor. It’s a job description.

Final Thought: Racial capitalism thrives on silence and complicity, but human service professionals—especially those of faith—can be powerful disruptors.

We can educate ourselves. We can reimagine the field. We can advocate for new funding models, inclusive policies, and shared leadership. Most importantly, we can stand with the oppressed—not as saviors, but as co-laborers in the struggle for liberation.

We’re not just called to serve.
We’re called to resist.
We’re called to transform.
We’re called to love radically.

That is good news.

References

  • Brueggemann, W. (2014). Sabbath as Resistance: Saying No to the Culture of Now. Westminster John Knox Press.
  • Freire, P. (1970). Pedagogy of the Oppressed. Herder and Herder.
  • Gilmore, R. W. (2007). Golden Gulag: Prisons, Surplus, Crisis, and Opposition in Globalizing California. University of California Press.
  • INCITE! Women of Color Against Violence. (2007). The Revolution Will Not Be Funded: Beyond the Non-Profit Industrial Complex. South End Press.
  • Isasi-Díaz, A. M. (1996). Mujerista Theology: A Theology for the Twenty-First Century. Orbis Books.
  • Leong, N. (2013). Racial Capitalism. Harvard Law Review, 126(8), 2151–2226.
  • Radford Ruether, R. (1983). Sexism and God-Talk: Toward a Feminist Theology. Beacon Press.
  • Robinson, C. J. (1983). Black Marxism: The Making of the Black Radical Tradition. University of North Carolina Press.
  • Roberts, D. (2002). Shattered Bonds: The Color of Child Welfare. Basic Books.
  • Thurman, H. (1949). Jesus and the Disinherited. Beacon Press.
  • Pirtle, W. N. L. (2020). Racial Capitalism: A Fundamental Cause of Novel Coronavirus (COVID-19) Pandemic Inequities in the United States. Health Education & Behavior, 47(4), 504–508.

Questions or feedback? Comment below or connect with me at tobi@centerlinewoman.blog .
🙏 Let’s keep doing justice—together.

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