There Are Those Who Talk, and Those Who Do

In every movement, in every struggle, there are two kinds of people—those who talk and those who do.

Talking is easy. It costs nothing to post on social media, to debate in circles, to speak on change from the comfort of inaction. But real change—the kind that reshapes history, the kind that builds a future—has never come from words alone. It comes from action. It comes from sacrifice. It comes from those who are willing to stand up, step forward and do the work, no matter the cost.

Being unapologetically Black in a world that tries to silence us is not for the weak. It means rejecting fear. It means refusing to seek permission to exist boldly. It means standing firm in spaces where they wish you would shrink.

Yet, too often, we see a divide. There are those who speak on empowerment but hesitate when it's time to act. There are those who cheer from the sidelines but never step onto the field. And worst of all—there are those among us who have reached power, influence and wealth, yet turn their backs on their own.

Why is it that when some of us enter corporate America, politics or positions of authority, we feel the need to downplay our Blackness? Why do we avoid hiring, mentoring and uplifting our own people out of fear of seeming too biased? No other group apologizes for helping their own. No other group hesitates to use their resources to uplift their communities. But we—after surviving centuries of oppression—still hesitate.

It is a betrayal of those who fought for us to be here. It is a betrayal of those who came before us. It is a betrayal of the generations who are watching us now, waiting to see what we will do.

If our ancestors had waited for approval, we would still be waiting for freedom. If the leaders before us had chosen comfort over courage, we would not be here today.

We must stop asking for permission to do what must be done. Our people need us.

Let me leave you with this:

An old man, walking a long road at dusk, came upon a vast chasm with a rushing river below. He had no fear—he crossed with ease. But when he reached the other side, he stopped and began to build a bridge.

A fellow traveler asked, “Old man, why waste your time? You’ve already crossed. You will never need this bridge.”

The old man lifted his head and said: “Good friend, there follows after me today a youth whose path must cross this way. This chasm that is nothing to me may be a dangerous trial for him. I am building this bridge for him.”

This is what it means to do the work. The question is, which one are you? Are you the one who talks about the bridge? Or are you the one who builds it?