The Uncomfortable Truth About Truth

On self-awareness, societal change, and running from honesty.

Photo by Milada Vigerova.

In the boundless sphere of letters and words, many have the ability to wield the pen with artistry and skill. Because of this, in the literary world, where giants stand tall and shadows of newcomers can stretch long into nothingness, there's a perpetual uncertainty for many. “Am I ever going to be one of the greats? Or will I always be one of the many, seeking a sliver of recognition?”

It’s never been my driving force to dwell upon this. The way I've always perceived my duty as a writer, in this expansive galaxy of literature’s stars, is quite simple: to be a voice of truth. In the winding alleys of narratives, to tell the truth is to rise above the noise, to stand firm against the seductive tides of ignorance and evasion. If in my journey I remain tethered to this simple principle, then perhaps I have grazed the hallowed realm of greatness, not in recognition, but in deed.

As a writer, I attempt to elevate the pressing issues of our era, to be a voice rising above the clamor that draws attention to the complexities and challenges of our time. This, however, does not imply an absence of the capacity to observe, relish, and reflect upon the varied beauties of life, both grand and subtle, or that my pen is devoid of personal interests and passions.

Any decent writer, at their core, is a multifaceted individuals. While one facet might capture the raw, gritty realities of our contemporary world, another might bask in the glow of life's simpler pleasures — the delicate bloom of a spring flower, the laughter shared amongst close friends, or the serenity of an Anita Baker or Joni Mitchell album.

That being said, in today's tumultuous world, where crises loom large, the role of writers as truth-tellers is more vital than ever. With gun violence rampant, it's essential to look beyond the act and understand the deeper social and political underpinnings. Economic despair isn't just statistics; it's the real-life struggles of overburdened families and debt-laden graduates. The age-old issue of racial strife demands constant exploration of historical context, generational trauma, and systemic faults. Women's rights, despite progressive waves of feminism, face destruction, necessitating reflections that capture the essence of these battles. And this is just the surface of our times.

But trying to be a truth-teller, particularly a Black truth-teller, comes with a great deal of difficulty because it bucks trend and forces introspection and accountability. This is an endeavor not for the faint of heart. In our modern age, an age defined by instantaneous gratification, sound bites, and endless scrolling, the practice of introspection feels almost archaic. And accountability? It's a word that many relegate to dusty old books and moral tales, not something to be actively sought after and practiced.

Our society, for all its advancements, has in many ways conditioned us to evade deep reflection and dodge responsibility. Quick solutions, fleeting trends, and the endless allure of toxic positivity often leaves little room for self-examination and the slow, patient work of change. The digital age, with its proliferation of information, has also created echo chambers that shelter most from confronting uncomfortable truths. Especially about themselves.

It's against this backdrop that my endeavor to speak honestly is often met with resistance. Being labeled "divisive," "difficult," or "burdensome" is not a reflection of my intent but a reaction to the discomfort that truth can bring. These words, more often than not, are a defense mechanism — a way for individuals to deflect the mirror I'm attempting to hold up to them. A mirror I often openly also hold up to myself.

My intention is not to alienate or judge. I aim to share insights drawn from perspectives and experiences, hoping that they might pave the way for deeper understanding and collective betterment. It's a challenging path, no doubt. Every truth I present is an invitation for readers to confront their beliefs, evaluate their actions, and perhaps reconsider long-held notions. It's not about proving a point or claiming moral superiority but about fostering dialogue, understanding, and growth.

But, I was recently graced with a peculiar observation about what writing of mine is deemed acceptable by some.

My reflections on race, both systemic and personal, are far better received than any other truths I pen. That’s not to say that people aren’t still reluctant, but they are most certainly more open minded.

Perhaps the foundational groundwork laid by literary giants like Toni Morrison, James Baldwin, and Zora Neale Hurston has softened the soil for the seeds I'm attempting to plant. These figures, through their poignant prose and evocative narratives, managed to carve a space for dialogues on race. Work such as theirs, coupled with the happenings of 2020, pushed boundaries, challenging the status quo with fearless dissections of racial dynamics. As a result, there's more of a precedent for receiving these discussions, even if with a begrudging openness.

Again, it's still difficult, but there is more of a noticeable willingness to engage.

Yet, as my experiences have shown, when my lens of truth turns to issues beyond racism, the waters become murkier, revealing a landscape of defensiveness that many might find astonishing. Take, for instance, the reactions to the last three essays I shared publicly.

In one essay, I delved into the intricacies of individual greedflation, in another, I reflect on the burdens we places on Gen Z, and in the third, I discuss the basic right to joy that people in poverty deserve.

Each of those pieces shares a central theme: a call for introspection about our roles as individuals and collective communities in the stagnation and decline of our world. It is about understanding the interconnectedness of our actions and their ripple effects on the global and hyper-local stages. The pieces invite readers not only to critique the societal problems they observe but also to evaluate their own participation in creating or perpetuating these issues.

The essence of this self-reflective ask is straightforward: It isn't enough to identify and criticize the flaws in our society. Instead, we must look inwards and interrogate our own complicity in these matters. After all, we can't genuinely claim to seek solutions when many of us, knowingly or unknowingly, contribute to the problems. It's a call for holistic accountability, where the blame isn't exclusively assigned outwardly, but inwardly as well.

However, the demand for such accountability, though fundamental to transformative growth, is rarely welcomed. For many, it's far more comfortable to remain as passive observers or critics, detached from the implications of the issues at hand. Acknowledging one's role, even if indirect, in societal challenges can be unsettling, if not downright threatening. It challenges the sanctity of our self-perception, forcing us to confront and, in many cases, redefine our understanding of self in relation to the world.

This raw, unfiltered call for self-awareness, though necessary, is never without its consequences. As I mentioned before. The potency of the essays seems to have struck a nerve. In the short span of a month following the publication of those pieces, I was met with a significant backlash, quantified by the loss of thousands of subscribers. Many of whom were paying subscriber accounts. The exodus of these people, more than just a numerical decline, signified a resistance to confronting uncomfortable truths. The essays became mirrors, and not everyone liked or was prepared for the reflections they saw.

Many people don’t want to hear that maybe they shouldn't be pushing today's problems onto future generations, hoping they'll clean up the mess. They don’t want to consider that people in poverty deserve the same luxuries as the more affluent. Nor do they want to read about how their chase for individual wealth, often celebrated, can mask underlying exploitative practices.

It's human nature to seek comfort and shy away from inconvenient truths. Yet, in today's world, several unsettling narratives demand our attention.

The loss of these people, while disheartening, underscores the very essence of the message I've been trying to convey. Change, real and substantive change, begins with introspection. It starts with understanding that each of us, in varying degrees, is a stakeholder in the state of our world. It's not about inducing guilt but awakening responsibility. If the loss of subscribers is the price for kindling this awareness in even a handful, it's a cost I'm willing to bear.

But the issue that sits with me and is especially disconcerting goes beyond the mere metrics of subscriber count. It exposes two profound concerns that speak to the very fabric of our societal understanding and acceptance.

Firstly, even as people claim to be advocates for anti-racism, their selective acceptance of narratives from Black individuals reveals a problematic bias. By willingly engaging with only certain facets of Black thought — most commonly those they find convenient or in alignment with their preconceived ideas — they inadvertently tokenize and compartmentalize the Black experience.

This selective hearing creates a dangerous dichotomy. On one hand, they applaud themselves for being allies, yet on the other hand, they unknowingly perpetuate a form of prejudice by narrowing down the range of Black perspectives they deem acceptable or worthy of their time. This isn’t true allyship. True allyship demands listening, not just when it's comfortable or aligns with one's beliefs, but especially when it's challenging, and calls into question long-held assumptions.

Secondly, the skewed reactions to my varied writings underline another unsettling trend: the prevalent self-centered approach to progress. For many, the lens through which they view societal advancement is tinted by their own personal experiences and needs. While personal experiences provide a necessary and valuable perspective, they shouldn’t limit our understanding of broader societal challenges. If progress is only viewed through the prism of personal gain or interest, then the broader, more inclusive idea of societal advancement is lost. This sort of myopic perspective will continue to fragment society in segmented operate in silos, where people only advocate for causes that directly impact them.

This severely limits the collective empathy we can extend to diverse issues and experiences beyond our own. It also stunts the growth of a holistic societal fabric, where each strand understands, supports, and uplifts the other. In this segmented approach, our efforts become disjointed, and the collective force that could drive monumental change is diluted.

For true societal progression to occur, there’s an urgent need to broaden our horizons, to step outside the comfort zones of our personal narratives, and genuinely engage with the diverse perspectives that shape our world. Even when uncomfortable.

In an age defined by disinformation, alternative facts, and deep-seated polarizations, our responsibility to discern and uphold the necessary truths has never been more paramount. Yet, paradoxically, we find ourselves in an era where those who stand up to speak the truth — the truth-tellers — often face censure, vilification, or even apathy. Instead of recognizing their courage and the necessity of their role, society, more often than not, seems keen to shoot the messenger.

We are in a time where we should be seeking and supporting the truth-tellers, not running from and punishing them. When we shun or disregard the voices that challenge our preconceived notions, biases, or comfort zones, we deprive ourselves of the opportunity to grow, evolve, and better understand the intricate world around us.

This isn't to say that every proclaimed "truth" should be accepted without scrutiny. The spirit of discernment is essential, especially in an age awash with information. But there's a vast difference between critically evaluating a perspective and dismissing or penalizing it solely because it's inconvenient or challenging.

Any amongst us who are truly interested, in fostering an inclusive, progressive society, must not only be open to hearing difficult things but actively seek them out. Supporting truth-tellers means amplifying their voices, engaging in dialogues, and understanding the nuances of their perspectives. It means recognizing that truth, in its essence, is often multi-faceted and cannot be confined to binary interpretations.

Instead of pandering to the loudest or most comforting voices, we should prioritize those who value authenticity, insight, and constructive discourse. It’s one of the few ways we can move this world of ours forward together.

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