Just because you stumbled onto a cause that breaks your heart won’t make you a hero in the eyes of the people you hope to reach. You will be gravely disappointed if you expect some kind of hero’s welcome.
That realization comes quickly for some. For others, it takes a painful moment of resistance.
In recent years, I’ve watched leaders step into complex community issues with a genuine desire to help, only to be surprised by the response. After the death of George Floyd in 2020, many leaders were eager to speak, to post, to signal where they stood. Some called me to ask what they should do.
My response was simple.
“Will you still be talking about this issue when the world moves on? Don’t respond unless you genuinely care about the issue, as your insincerity will become apparent later. Do you care more about perception or the issue at hand?”
That question has a way of cutting through the noise.
Because there is a difference between stepping into an issue and sticking with it. Between caring more about being seen (what I would call virtue signaling) and being committed to enduring.
Some who spoke quickly found themselves unprepared for what followed. Questions about hiring practices, board composition, and long-standing blind spots. One leader, frustrated by the pushback, said, in essence, “If this is how I’m going to be treated, I’ll just stop.”
That moment reveals more than frustration. It exposes motivation.
Why me?
If “Who are you?” is the question others ask, “Why me?” is the one you have to answer for yourself.
Only you can answer that question.
Why do you want to step into this work? Why this issue? Why now?
Check your heart. Do you really want to serve?
Those questions are easy to dismiss when things are going well. They are much harder when the work becomes costly.
We live in a moment where the pressure to respond is constant. The 24-hour news cycle generates a constant stream of national and global events that call for you to take a stand. Silence can feel like complicity. Others might even accuse your silence of being complicity.
But not every response is rooted in conviction.
That virtue signaling I mentioned really is the public expression or display of opinions and moral sentiments to show everyone how righteous you are. In the end, it is just a show. If your words are not backed up by real action, they are just a mask. The Greeks had a word for someone who wears a mask: hypocrite.
Your community can tell the difference between someone who is present for a moment and someone who is present for the long haul.
Motivation matters more than strategy, vision, and timing.
What truly motivates you to get involved? Are you seeking accolades, awards, or a professional resume boost? Or do you genuinely love the people and the cause in a way that will carry you through the opposition, heartbreak, and struggle that likely lies ahead?
The best answer to the “Why me?” question is one that is rooted in love for your community.
Who else?
There is one more question, often overlooked but critical.
Who else is already at work on the problem that breaks your heart? What other people and organizations have been trying to love your community and heal its pain?
That question requires humility. It slows you down. It reminds you that you are stepping into a story that didn’t begin with you.
Before you launch something new, before you gather attention, before you build momentum, take the time to listen. Sit with those who have been laboring quietly for years. Learn from them. Honor their work.
You might be shocked at what you learn from those who have gone before you.
I am confident that we can achieve more Unlikely Good in our communities if people join forces. It never hurts to ask if you should join forces before you launch a new work.
Those two questions, “Why me?” and “Who else?” can help you on the journey toward building trust in your community.
