Before the blueprints, before the bricks, before the generational wealth — there’s the land.
That belief was the bedrock of the 2025 Black Developers Housing Summit, held March 26–28 at the Renasant Convention Center. Organized by the Black Coalition for Housing, the three-day event brought together real estate professionals, emerging developers, city officials and national thought leaders to explore how land — especially in long-neglected Black neighborhoods — can become a tool for equity, legacy and transformation.
The summit’s tagline, “Underneath it all, is the land,” spoke to more than construction. It was a layered invitation — and a call to action.
“When we think about the resource we have in our land banks — what really comes from that — it’s opportunity,” said Rasheeda Jones, a Memphis-based realtor and one of the summit’s lead organizers. “Most of that land is in neighborhoods that have been under-invested for decades. That’s where the work needs to happen. That’s where small-scale developers can build wealth and rebuild communities.”
This year marks the third installment of the Black Developers Housing Summit, and the second time it’s been held in Memphis. Last year’s event took place in Chicago, where the Black Coalition for Housing, a national organization, is headquartered. But Jones, a Memphis native, said the summit’s return to the Bluff City was no coincidence.
“Memphis is in a housing crisis. There are over 38,000 units of need,” she said. “This is also my hometown, and I believe this is where the model for equitable development can take root.”
The event was intentionally intimate, capped at 200 participants.
Sessions focused on unlocking public and private capital, navigating land acquisition and building functional partnerships. Among the featured experts were former NBA player turned developer Bobby Simmons and a cohort of funders and community leaders committed to building wealth through real estate.
And it wasn’t just all talk. A designated “back room” offered new and seasoned developers a chance to review projects and even make deals. Workshops spotlighted models in cities like Chicago, Detroit and Atlanta. Celebrities like hip hop artist David Banner and radio personality Angela Yee talked business, money and life.
Mayor Young: ‘It wasn’t just white flight’ that left holes in the city
Opening the summit with rare candor and historical clarity, Memphis Mayor Paul Young offered a crash course in how public policy and planning shaped today’s housing challenges.
“People ask me, ‘How did Memphis get this way?’” said Young, the former director of Housing and Community Development. “Why do we have so many neighborhoods with vacant blocks? The answer is: We made decisions.”
In the early 1980s, Young explained, Memphis spanned roughly 200 square miles. Then came a pivotal moment — the city approved an 18-mile sewer line extension eastward, setting the stage for suburban expansion. Over time, Memphis grew to cover 324 square miles — but its population remained flat.
“So what do you think happened?” he asked. “People moved from here to there. And it wasn’t just white flight — it was middle-income flight. Black families with means left, too.”
As areas like Cordova and Hickory Hill blossomed, the city’s core hollowed out. The resulting vacancies — homes, schools, churches and even entire blocks — were not random. They were the byproduct of policies that prioritized expansion over equity.
“Now we’re left trying to fill those holes,” said Young. “And that won’t come from traditional developers. They want green fields. They want easy infrastructure. But you — the people in this room — you’re the ones who can reinvest in these communities and benefit from their rebirth.
“We’re working to make it easier to acquire land, cut through red tape and put the tools in your hands,” he said. “Because the people who’ve lived through the down years deserve to thrive in the up years.”
A blueprint rooted in lived experience
That vision — of everyday people stepping into developer roles — is exactly what Rasheeda Jones and the Black Coalition for Housing are cultivating.
Jones, who has worked on multiple local land bank deals herself, emphasized the value of strategic patience and mentorship. She recalled purchasing multiple parcels of city land and holding them until the time and capital aligned to develop.
“Sometimes, your capital stake is the land,” she explained. “I didn’t always bring money to the table. But I brought assets and a plan. And we teach that here. We bring in mentors. We talk about hard money loans, grant opportunities, pre-development dollars. It’s about building a toolkit.”
By designing the summit as both educational and actionable, Jones said the goal is to demystify development, especially for people who’ve been told it’s out of reach.
“This is not just for millionaires,” she said. “It’s for people who care about their blocks. For people who want to take a shot at changing their family’s future.”
Angela Yee: From broadcasting to building
While media personality Angela Yee may be best known for her work on “The Breakfast Club” and her current nationally syndicated show, “Way Up with Angela Yee,” her appearance at the summit offered something deeper: proof of concept.
Yee spoke openly about buying her first duplex in Brooklyn, navigating skyrocketing property values, and most recently, rehabbing a 15-unit building in Detroit aimed at providing affordable housing for women with legal issues.
“If I had known how hard it was going to be, I might not have done it,” she admitted. “But now we’re at the finish line. People move in April 18. And it’s one of the most meaningful things I’ve ever been a part of.”
Yee also co-founded the Wellness and Real Estate Club, a space where aspiring investors can connect with experienced partners, pitch deals and learn the business from the inside.
“You don’t have to have all the money,” she told attendees. “Sometimes you have the credit. Sometimes you have the knowledge. You just need the right team and a contract.”
Her message resonated as a full-circle echo of the summit’s ethos: reclaiming what was once considered inaccessible and making it a resource for collective empowerment.
David Banner brings the fire: ‘The land is our power. The land is our proof.’
If Angela Yee offered blueprint and balance, David Banner brought fire and thunder to Day 2 of the summit with a charged, free-ranging keynote that stretched from self-love and land ownership to cultural programming and the psychology of Black economics.
The Grammy-winning rapper, producer and activist didn’t mince words.
“If they own electricity, water, medicine and land — I don’t care how tough you are — you’re not free,” Banner said. “You’re a slave to what you don’t own and what you don’t know.”
Though known for his evolution from Southern hip-hop star to outspoken public thinker, Banner said the hardest transformation wasn’t external — it was internal.
Gaining money and visibility didn’t free him, he said. Stillness did. And through that stillness, he began to see how far Black people had been moved from their own power.
He challenged the crowd to break cycles of inherited shame and disposability, particularly in how Black communities treat their own neighborhoods.
“Being clean doesn’t cost a dime,” he said. “And yet we walk past paper in front of our own homes. If we don’t value what we already have, why would anyone else?
“Real estate is deeper than property lines,” he told the audience. “It’s about having a place to recharge. A place to pray. A place to protect. How can you call yourself a king or queen if you have nowhere to build your kingdom?”
Banner challenged attendees to consider not just how they invest their money, but where they spend their time and energy — from grocery stores to gas stations to school zones.
“You say you love Black people? Let me see where you live, where you shop, where you send your kids to school,” he said. “That’s how I know how you really feel. Because love is shown through investment.”
While pushing back against cultural complacency and performative pride, he also urged the audience to recognize the opportunity in cities like Memphis — places often overlooked but ripe for renewal.
“They’re not making more land,” he said. “So get some, grow something on it. Own it. Pass it down. Let that be the proof of your love for your people.”
