Leadership is often envisioned as a singular path, a straight, unwavering road marked by grand speeches, authoritative decisions, and visible influence. But in reality, leadership is far from linear. It is fluid, shaped by culture, history, and lived experiences. Nowhere is this truer than in the Black community, where leadership has taken countless forms, from the revolutionary defiance of Harriet Tubman to the poetic resistance of Maya Angelou. Black leadership is as multifaceted as Blackness itself, rooted in resilience, community, and an unyielding pursuit of justice.
Within the intricate mosaic of my being is a muse who embodies the essence of bliss, an inspiration that pierces through the catastrophes of life with erudite bullets of strength. My mother’s voice has always appeared as a vessel of wisdom, her words cascading like rivers that nourish the parched lands of ignorance. She knows, as many before her have known, that a blackbird caged from knowledge will find itself oppressed, suppressed, and depressed. Its wings are burdened by the bittersweet nectar of a society that often seeks to clip them before they soar.
Her teachings remind me that knowledge is more than power; it is liberation. To be informed is to be equipped, to be equipped is to be prepared, and to be prepared is to be unstoppable. This lesson is not new, it is stitched into the fabric of Black history, woven by the hands of those who refused to be defined by the constraints imposed upon them. From Frederick Douglass, who taught himself to read despite laws against Black literacy, to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., whose words ignited a revolution, the pursuit of knowledge has been both an act of defiance and a beacon of hope.
Yet, my mother’s influence extends far beyond intellect. She epitomizes resilience and elegance, not as mere attributes but as forces of nature. In her, I witness the quiet power of perseverance, the dignified strength of someone who bends but does not break. She does not lead with loud commands but with quiet certainty, showing me that leadership is not only about presence but about purpose. She is the blueprint for a life lived with authenticity, integrity, and compassion.
Black history is rich with such leaders, men and women who moved mountains not only through grand speeches and marches but also through the everyday defiance of simply being. Harriet Tubman, who risked everything so others could taste freedom. Maya Angelou, whose words lifted generations. Barack and Michelle Obama, who shattered ceilings with grace. Their leadership is not just in their achievements but in the way they carried themselves, the way they refused to accept limitations, the way they inspired others to do the same.
Although Black History Month has passed, we must continue to acknowledge Black History and ask ourselves: How will we lead? Leadership is not confined to titles or stages. It is in the way we uplift others, the way we mentor, the way we break generational curses and plant seeds of wisdom. It is in the lessons we pass down, the knowledge we refuse to hoard, and the courage we cultivate in those who look up to us.
To be Black in this world is to understand the weight of history and the promise of the future. It is to acknowledge the chains of the past while forging ahead with unshackled determination. It is to fly, even when the world tries to keep us grounded. My mother, my muse, my inspiration, has taught me this truth. And now, I carry it forward, not just for myself but for those who will one day look to me for guidance.
The blackbird will not remain caged. It will rise. It will soar. And it will lead.
