Tulsa’s newly elected mayor, Monroe Nichols—the city’s first Black mayor—announced a $100 million private trust on Sunday as part of a city-supported initiative aimed at addressing the lasting impacts of the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre. The plan focuses on providing scholarships and housing assistance to descendants of victims, marking a significant step toward confronting one of the most horrific racial attacks in American history.
The proposed fund, however, does not include direct cash payments to descendants or to the two remaining known survivors of the massacre, in which an estimated 300 Black residents were killed and the once-thriving Greenwood District was burned to the ground by a white mob.
Nichols introduced the plan at the Greenwood Cultural Center, located in the heart of North Tulsa. While avoiding the politically sensitive term “reparations,” he described the effort as a comprehensive “road to repair.”
“For 104 years, the Tulsa Race Massacre has stained our city’s history,” Nichols said to a crowd of several hundred who greeted him with a standing ovation. “It was buried in silence, followed by decades of redlining, a highway cutting through Black neighborhoods, and chronic neglect from all levels of government.”
He added, “Now, it’s time to take bold action toward restoration.”
Mayor Monroe Nichols emphasized Sunday that his proposed $100 million private trust, designed to aid descendants of the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre, would not require approval from the city council—except in cases where the city might need to transfer public property to the trust, a move he said is likely to gain support.
The proposed charitable trust aims to raise $105 million in assets by June 1, 2026, with most of the funding already secured or pledged. Oversight would fall to an executive director and a board of managers, who will finalize the operational framework over the next year. The majority of the funding—around $60 million—is slated for building improvements and neighborhood revitalization in Tulsa’s historically Black north side.
“At its peak, the Greenwood District was a commercial hub,” Nichols said in a phone interview. “What was destroyed wasn’t just a part of North Tulsa—it was an engine of economic growth that could’ve rivaled any city in the world. That loss impacted all of Tulsa.”
This initiative follows an executive order Nichols signed earlier this year, officially designating June 1 as Tulsa Race Massacre Observance Day. Commemorative events on Sunday included family picnics, church services, and a candlelight vigil in the Greenwood District.
Nichols acknowledged that his proposal comes during a politically fraught time, especially in light of former President Donald Trump’s broad pushback against diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives.
“Sure, it’s a tough national climate,” Nichols said. “But that doesn’t change the work we’re called to do.”
Jacqueline Weary, granddaughter of massacre survivor John R. Emerson Sr.—who lost both a hotel and cab business in the violence—expressed mixed feelings. While she understands the political difficulty of providing direct cash payments to descendants, she still mourns the financial legacy her family lost.
“If Greenwood were still thriving, my grandfather would still have his hotel,” said Weary, 65. “That was our rightful inheritance, and it was taken from us.”
Tulsa joins a growing number of U.S. cities and institutions examining reparations. Evanston, Illinois, became the first to offer reparations to Black residents, allocating $25,000 grants for housing assistance, funded through recreational marijuana tax revenue.
Other cities and organizations exploring similar initiatives include Amherst, Massachusetts; Providence, Rhode Island; Asheville, North Carolina; Iowa City, Iowa; as well as the state of California, the Episcopal Church, and universities such as Georgetown.
