For NEWBOs, New Class Can Be an Education

The wealthiest African Americans historically had two and only two professions: entertainer or sports figure. Racial barriers that prevented access to capital, education and other resources of the business elite made wealth accumulation through other means nearly impossible for generations.

Now, in 2009, black titans of business not only have risen to the top but also have sometimes fallen along with the rest of the corporate CEOs. Yet the financial news network CNBC remains fascinated with the performer crowd and tonight at 9 debuts an hour-long documentary called "NEWBOs: The Rise of America's New Black Overclass."

It zooms in on the modern generation of African American celebrities and athletes who have risen from the working class to multimillionaire-dom and explores how they have handled their transition to wealth after growing up "underclass," as Wall Street Journal reporter and documentary host Lee Hawkins puts it.

The underlying question of "NEWBOs" is whether superstar athletes LeBron James and Torii Hunter, gospel star Kirk Franklin and hip-hop entrepreneurs Ronald and Bryan Williams of Cash Money Records have a responsibility to spread their wealth within the black community. This is hardly a new subject for the black and wealthy, often the first in their families to accumulate large amounts of money. They always have faced high expectations when it comes to giving both to their blood relatives and the broader community of black folks.

Black athletes in major professional sports earned more than $4 billion last year, and hip-hop entrepreneurs pulled down half a billion dollars, according to CNBC. In that light, the network describes the television special as a call "for a new era of entrepreneurship, collaboration, intergenerational mentorship, educational advancement, social awareness and accountability within this growing class."

That's a lot for a television show to call for, and "NEWBOs" is hampered by the assumption that this class of black entrepreneurs is too materialistic and, therefore, special. Fact is, poor and working-class people of all stripes who get rich quickly tend to buy a lot of stuff before finding better ways to invest their money.

Franklin, the music sensation who made the first gospel album that sold more than a million units, put it this way: "You never have anybody say to you when you are 23 years old and you get a publishing check bigger than anything you've ever seen before that, 'Okay, someday you're going to have kids that want to go to college.' You're not listening to that; you want to get that new BMW. You want to get that new Benz."

The documentary is most interesting when it looks at how the young black multimillionaires made their money, not how they've spent it on plush homes, cars and even teeth. Yes, teeth. (Bryan "Baby" Williams -- half of the Cash Money duo that built a lucrative music empire with hit-maker Lil Wayne at its center -- has teeth lined with $500,000 in diamonds and platinum.) The opulence might seem silly, and noting it seems very 1990s, but it is clear by the end of the interview, conducted with Baby sitting on a couch surrounded by a carpet of dollar bills, that the bling is all a part of his Cash Money business plan. When the Williams brothers signed a distribution deal with Universal Records, they demanded a contract that allowed them to maintain ownership of the masters: 85 percent of the label's royalties and 50 percent of its publishing revenue.

"I was always more of a hustler than a spender," Williams says. "I always figured I'd let my money make money. Go get more."

James -- the NBA star who formed his own sports marketing company with three childhood friends to oversee his $90 million endorsement contract with Nike and other deals -- explains his foray into marketing as his attempt to be both a businessman and a ballplayer.

"I didn't want to look up and be 15 or 16 years into the NBA and still be 80 percent [focused] on basketball," says James, who calls Warren Buffett a mentor.

The black celebs also discuss the philanthropic pull they feel as the wealth gap in the black community grows ever larger. Hunter, the eight-time Gold Glove winner who plays for the Los Angeles Angels under a five-year deal worth $90 million, has founded several philanthropies that help the disadvantaged near his Texas home.