The Lesson Is…
August 2017:
Picture me sitting on my couch in a sticky New York City apartment, hands on my head on the verge of tears.
Somewhere, somehow, I lost something.
That thing? Courage.
The lesson? Courage is a muscle, and I had let it atrophy. I didn’t know it then, but soon, it would be evident.
One of the people I look to as a paragon of courage is Cornel West.
The Harvard professor, no matter the moment, seems to lean on his extensive reading of history, morality, philosophy, divinity, politics, and organizing to be a voice for the voiceless, from around the world.
He has done this during unpopular administrations in the United States Critiquing the foreign and domestic policy of each regime, with the focus of the defenseless (often people of color and LGBTQ). For that, he received a ton of praise.
He also did it during the administration of the first black and highly popular president, one where most black intellectuals were silent.
For this, he has found himself on the outs with many “well to do” African Americans, a group that was once his base of support.
Even so, every day and every speech, he lobbies for the voiceless, while being called every name under the sun.
Is he perfect? Not at all. None of us are. I am sure someone who may read this will bring up a critique of Dr. West. Perhaps it is valid.
However, one thing you cannot do is mention a lack of courage. Dr. West has been a consistent voice for the voiceless, both when it beloved and when it isn’t.
When I sat on that couch in August, I recognized that while I held on to many things, like anger and resentment, I let courage go by the wayside.
This year has been hard for me emotionally.
While I’ve spent hours with my team working on building Life as Usual into something interesting, speaking at wonderful events, and writing, I also had dreams dashed, work demolished and felt disrespected.
That caused me to stop working on being vulnerable and retreat. That retreat caused me a lot of pain.I need courage as fuel as a firestarter. When I shut it off to feel protected, I start a feedback loop that damages me psychologically.
In 2016, in the middle of me quitting a job and losing my startup, I felt okay, because it was a courageous year. What looked devastating on the outside was terrific on the inside because I constantly worked the muscle.
2017 was the opposite. I got more comfortable, and I turned courage into some event, instead of a daily practice that I had when I was more unstable.
When I look at Cornel West, he walks, talks, and acts courageously because in his existence he works his courage out by telling the truth. He seems not to resent anyone and calls everyone brother or sister. He recognizes everyone’s humanity (even when a “side” doesn’t want him to).
I recognize for me to do the same, I’ll need to get back to leaning on the daily courage to sustain me.
The good news is that with a new year, there will be plenty of opportunities. If you read this, feel free to keep me honest.
From the desk of Adam Thomas 