It’s incredibly difficult to speak positive in times of uncertainty. I’ve been there so many times—self-soothing, pleading, and sometimes lost for words—staring at a void. But, of course, I want to talk about doing good. Not in the sense of on idea—but I mean the actual practice of it. Doing the best you can in rooms where other people aren’t operating on your level, or even in your realm of understanding.
That’s not to say you’re better. Nobody is perfect and no two spheres are identical. Where you have a weakness, they may have a strength. Where they have a weakness, you may have a strength. Two people can look at the same situation and genuinely see different things, and neither of them is lying. That’s been challenging for me to accept—that the person across from me isn’t necessarily corrupt or careless. They may just be standing somewhere I’ve never stood, working from a map I’ve never seen.
But understanding that doesn’t mean one should surrender to it. You can respect that someone occupies a different sphere and still refuse to let them redraw yours. You know what I’m saying? That’s the actual struggle. Being swayed to compromise in places you owe to nobody.
Oh, I got bills to pay—can’t lose this job. I have people to impress—gotta always show-up. I have been falling for years, people may start thinking I’m a loser. *sigh* the roundness of my smile is unfathomable. Despite all my flaws and failures, I am happy with myself.
We’re arriving at an age where we understand the benefits of doing good. The research is there—not just in trauma-informed care, person-centered, or harm reduction, but in psychology, neuroscience, game theory, and more. Institutions put it on their walls. And in many of those same spaces, doing good will go unnoticed, overlooked, alienated, or outright opposed. It can get ugly. It surely can be toxic. But it’s still important to understand, this isn’t a war against you. You understand that. It’s the byproduct of failed struggles—Because doing good takes longer, costs more, and asks people to change something they’ve already decided is fine. “I’m OK, right where I’m at…” call it “life.”
You know, I learned the importance of language a long time ago. I stopped asking “what’s wrong?” and started to ask “What’s not right?” My mom has this thing she says, it’s so frequent, it’s almost a catchphrase: “Unfortunately, that’s the world we live in.” I have to reply: “Ma,” I say—”That’s the social and economic world we live in.” Right? ultimately… not unfortunately. And so that means…
If there was ever a time to do right, now would be it. When so much advertisement has billions of funding behind it.
I tip my hat to those who did the right thing and seen no justice. There are more of them than anyone counting. Fireworks—red, blue, white, bursting, overpowering the star-flooded night skies, a win… with nobody around to witness. Even worst, on time, but the schedule changed last minute. We’re not over that hill yet. Self-interest in social front-lines, while seemingly embed in the system, I’ve learned requires instruments to manage and remove. And every time that one person, did something right, stood up to tyranny, triumph over cowardice—a fracture is caused. Caused by conviction.
You know, now-former CEO of Bowery Residents’ Committee, Muzzy Rosenblatt said there will always be homelessness. I disagree with that. Although, I do agree there will always be some level of injustice—this is harder to mitigate than providing shelter, because you can build a bed but you can’t build a conscience. Maybe that’s a shareholder statement he made. Maybe it’s fatigue. Either way, he believes it. And when the person at the top believes a problem is permanent, that belief travels downward until it reaches the floor, the front-lines, where it stops being a philosophy and starts being how somebody gets treated at three in the morning or when nobody is looking.
I don’t believe it.
For those out there making sacrifices — keep going. Keep on. I know it’s easier said than done. I know it doesn’t account for the anxiety, the depression, the worries about bills, the friends, the mental health. I know it doesn’t pay.
But I hope, with all my heart, you don’t believe the hype. Compromising your values corrodes. And if it doesn’t show on the surface, it’s showing somewhere deeper — somewhere one should be looking, but don’t, because it’s gotten too scary for what one may find.
Growing, learning—I’m not perfect. But god damn, I’ve impressed myself these last several years. Absolutely crushing inward, and still hitting walls. Stumped, cheated, overlooked, vilified. And yet something in me feels solid. Like the center of the sun. I don’t know what it is, what it looks like, or how long it’s been there. And for that, I say: People of the Sun, keep on truckin’.