Similarly, Big Gambling is embedding itself in Black culture. LeBron, Jamie Foxx, Kevin Hart, and Stephen A. Smith may have diverse fan bases, but their influence on Black culture is undeniable. NFL Hall of Famer Shannon Sharpe and rapper-turned-podcaster Joe Budden also appear in gambling ads, portraying betting as a pastime for the rich, talented, and cool. The message is clear: gambling is aspirational.
Yet, there’s no federal agency overseeing Big Gambling. Instead, the industry polices itself through the American Gaming Association, which created a “Responsible Marketing Code.” Ads now include a small warning and a helpline number, but the code’s language is vague, emphasizing what’s “practical.” The code also prohibits promoting gambling on college campuses, yet gambling companies have struck deals with universities, offering incentives to students to place bets. Michigan State, Louisiana State, and the University of Colorado at Boulder all faced backlash for such partnerships, but the damage was likely already done.
These ads target young Black students, many of whom are already financially vulnerable. Black college students often face higher debt, lower graduation rates, and lower earnings than their white peers. For many, college is a path to upward mobility, but gambling ads threaten to derail that journey. Shouldn’t college be a place to build a secure future, not gamble it away?
Growing up in my neighborhood, the music we listened to glorified money and risk-taking: “C.R.E.A.M. (Cash Rules Everything Around Me),” “Money Ain’t a Thang,” “Band low a Bag.” These messages, coupled with systemic inequities, shaped our relationship with money. Many of us knew someone who gambled away their paycheck or turned to illegal means to make ends meet. I remember Goggles, a man who lost five figures in a dice game and was later shot trying to recoup his losses. Stories like his are all too common in communities like mine.
Perhaps this isn’t your reality. Maybe gambling for you is a harmless pastime, a friendly poker game with modest stakes. Maybe you’ve only set foot in a casino for a bachelor party, your wallet never running dry. But for many Black people and other marginalized groups, gambling isn’t a game—it’s a trap. According to the National Council on Problem Gambling, 2.5 million Americans struggle with gambling addiction, and another 5 to 8 million have mild to moderate problems. Black people are disproportionately affected.
Big Gambling’s ads don’t show the devastation it leaves in its wake. They don’t show the families torn apart by addiction, the lives ruined by debt. They don’t show the systemic oppression that makes Black communities especially vulnerable. For me, this isn’t just about numbers or statistics—it’s about people. It’s about my community, my history, and the future I want to see. And it’s about holding industries accountable for the harm they cause. Because when the dice stop rolling and the bets are settled, it’s never just a game.