Blocking Opportunity You’re Not Using

Sometimes the greatest obstacle to progress is not the lack of opportunity.

It is the presence of someone guarding it.

There is an old fable about a dog that wandered into a barn one evening and curled up inside a manger filled with hay.

The manger was meant for the cattle. The hay was their food.

But the dog lay comfortably across the pile and refused to move.

Soon the cattle returned to the barn after a long day in the fields.

They approached the manger, hungry and ready to eat.

But when they lowered their heads toward the hay, the dog jumped up, growling and barking, chasing them away.

The cattle backed up in confusion.

The dog did not eat the hay.

Dogs do not eat hay.

But every time the cattle tried to reach it, the dog snapped and barked until they stepped away.

The farmer watching the scene shook his head and said:

“That dog will not eat the hay…”

“…but he will not let anyone else eat it either.”

The Lesson

The story became a proverb that has lasted for centuries.

A “dog in the manger” is someone who blocks access to something they are not using themselves.

Not because they need it.

But simply because they do not want someone else to have it.

It is one of the most destructive forms of human behavior.

Because it doesn’t just stop progress.

It prevents others from making progress as well.

The Mirror

Across our communities, there are opportunities that could move many people forward.

Business opportunities.

Leadership opportunities.

Economic opportunities.

Platforms that could help others grow.

Yet sometimes those opportunities become guarded.

Not always by people actively building something…

…but by people protecting positions.

People who say:

“No one else is ready.”

“No one else should do it.”

“This is how it has always been done.”

And if we are honest, this is not something outsiders always do to us.

Sometimes it is something we do to ourselves.

Instead of asking how opportunity can expand, we begin protecting the little space we occupy.

Even when we are not using it.

Even when others could turn it into something meaningful.

Over time this behavior quietly limits an entire community.

Because progress requires open doors.

Not guarded hay.

The Question

Healthy communities understand something simple.

Opportunity is not meant to be hoarded.

It is meant to be used.

And when someone is not using it, the best thing a community can do is allow someone else to try.

Because a dog in the manger may protect the hay…

…but eventually the cattle will remain hungry.

So the question for the village is simple:

What kind of village do we want to be?

Jerry Primm
Founder, Black Vanguard Media
Black Vanguard Media explores ideas that strengthen the Black community through leadership, economic understanding, and thoughtful dialogue.

Subscribe now

Sometimes the biggest obstacle to progress isn’t the wall in front of us.

Sometimes it’s the hands pulling from below.

Fishermen along the coast tell a curious story about buckets of crabs.

When fishermen catch lobsters, they must put a lid on the bucket. If they don’t, one lobster will eventually climb up the side and escape.

But when they catch crabs, they leave the bucket open.

There is no lid.

A visitor once asked a fisherman why.

The fisherman laughed and said:

“You don’t need one.”

“If one crab starts climbing out, the others will pull it back down.”

And sure enough, whenever a crab reaches the top of the bucket, another crab grabs its leg and drags it back into the pile.

Not because the other crab plans to escape.

But simply because it refuses to let the first one leave.

The Lesson

The story is often used as a metaphor for a painful truth about human behavior.

Sometimes people are less concerned with climbing themselves than they are with making sure no one else climbs either.

Instead of asking, How did you get up there? the instinct becomes:

Come back down here with us.

Over time the entire bucket stays exactly where it is.

Not because escape is impossible.

But because cooperation never happens.

The Mirror

Across the Black community there are always individuals trying to climb.

Entrepreneurs building businesses.

Leaders trying new approaches.

People experimenting with new ways of creating opportunity and wealth.

Some of them begin to rise.

And when they do, two very different reactions can emerge.

One reaction is curiosity.

“How did you do that?”
“What can we learn from it?”
“How can more of us climb?”

Communities that respond this way create ladders.

The other reaction is suspicion.

“Why them?”
“Who do they think they are?”
“They must have done something wrong.”

And if we are honest, this is not something outsiders always do to us.

Sometimes it is something we do to ourselves.

We criticize the person climbing.

We question their motives.

We pull at their legs.

And eventually many people who might have climbed stop trying at all.

Because no one wants to fight both the wall in front of them and the hands pulling from below.

The Question

Healthy communities understand something important.

One person climbing does not block the path for others.

It proves the path exists.

Success should not be something we attack.

It should be something we study.

Because every person who finds a way out of the bucket leaves behind a map.

And communities that learn from those maps eventually build ladders.

But communities that spend their time pulling down those who climb often stay exactly where they started.

Because when everyone is pulling down, no one is climbing.

So the question for the village is simple:

What kind of village do we want to be?

Jerry Primm
Founder, Black Vanguard Media
Black Vanguard Media explores ideas that strengthen the Black community through leadership, economic understanding, and thoughtful dialogue.

Everyone wants progress.

Until progress requires movement.

There is an old village proverb about a man who sat down in the middle of the road.

It was not a small path. It was the main road connecting the village to the rest of the world. Merchants traveled it. Farmers carried their goods along it. Families used it to visit neighboring villages.

But one day a man decided to sit right in the middle of it.

At first people approached him politely.

“Brother,” they said, “you’re sitting in the road.”

The man did not move.

So travelers began stepping around him.

Some walked to the left side of the road. Others stepped carefully into the grass to pass by.

But as the day went on, the man began complaining.

“People in this village have no respect,” he said.

“Everyone keeps passing me.”

Travelers continued their journey.

Merchants with their goods stepped around him. Farmers carrying baskets walked past him. Children moving quickly between homes skipped around him.

The man grew more frustrated.

“Look at this,” he said. “Everyone just keeps going around me.”

Late in the afternoon an elder walking down the road stopped and looked at the man.

He watched travelers step around him for a moment.

Then the elder said quietly:

“If you do not wish to be passed…”

“…do not sit in the road.”

The Lesson

Proverbs like this survive for generations because they capture something deeply human.

Sometimes people remain exactly where they are while the world continues to move forward around them.

And instead of asking whether they should move, they complain that others are moving too fast.

The road, however, was never designed for sitting.

It was designed for traveling.

And when someone chooses to remain in the middle of it, two things will always happen.

Others will keep moving.

And eventually they will pass.

The Mirror

Over the years I’ve spent time around leaders, organizations, and institutions across our communities. One thing I’ve learned is that progress rarely waits for anyone.

Economies change.

Technology changes.

Opportunities shift.

The road keeps moving forward.

But sometimes within our communities we fall into a familiar pattern.

We hold tightly to old systems.

Old approaches.

Old ways of thinking about leadership and opportunity.

Meanwhile others begin trying new things.

They experiment with new business ideas.

They organize differently.

They move faster.

And as they do, some people begin asking:

“Why are they passing us?”

But the more honest question might be:

“Are we still sitting in the road?”

And if we are honest, this is not something outsiders always do to us.

Sometimes it is something we do to ourselves.

Communities that move forward are rarely perfect.

But they are willing to adjust.

They are willing to stand up when the road begins to move.

Because the truth is simple.

The road does not stop for anyone.

The Question

The real challenge facing any community is not whether change is coming.

Change is always coming.

The question is whether we will move with it.

Or sit still while others continue their journey.

Because history shows something very clearly.

Those who refuse to move eventually find themselves watching others disappear down the road.

So the question for the village is simple:

What kind of village do we want to be?

Jerry Primm
Founder, Black Vanguard Media
Black Vanguard Media explores ideas that strengthen the Black community through leadership, economic understanding, and thoughtful dialogue.

The Village That Drove Away Its Best Hunter

Innovation Rejected by the Community

Every village wants a great hunter.

Until one shows up.

There is an old village story about a group of hunters.

Every morning the hunters left the village and entered the forest with their spears. And every evening they returned through the same narrow path leading back to the fires where the community waited.

Most of them came back with explanations.

The animals were too fast.

The forest had changed.

The weather was bad.

But one hunter came back with meat.

Some days it was antelope. Other days it was wild boar. Occasionally he returned carrying game so large that the entire village gathered to see it.

At first the people celebrated him.

They praised his skill.

They shared the meat he brought.

The children followed him through the village asking about the forest and the animals he had tracked.

For a time, the hunter fed everyone.

But slowly something began to change.

The whispers started.

“No one can be that successful.”

“He must be doing something unfair.”

“Who does he think he is?”

The hunter who once fed the village began to make the other hunters uncomfortable.

Eventually the whispers turned into accusations.

And one day the hunter left the village.

He took his knowledge of the forest, his skill with a spear, and his understanding of the animals with him.

Years later, when the village was hungry again, an elder spoke quietly around the fire.

“Perhaps,” he said,

“the problem was never the hunter.”

The Lesson

Stories like this exist in many cultures because they capture something uncomfortable about human nature.

Communities often celebrate success—until that success begins to reveal something about everyone else.

At that moment admiration can quietly turn into resentment.

Instead of asking:

What can we learn from this person?

People begin asking a different question:

How do we stop them?

The Mirror

Over the years I’ve spent time around community leaders, institutions, and organizations across our communities. One thing I’ve learned is that many of our challenges are not about talent or opportunity.

Often, they are about how we respond to success, change, and new ideas.

Across the Black community there are always individuals trying new approaches.

New business models.

New leadership ideas.

New ways of organizing opportunity.

Sometimes those ideas work.

And when they do, the community faces a choice.

One response is curiosity.

“What are they doing differently?”

“How can we learn from it?”

Communities that ask those questions tend to grow.

The other response is suspicion.

“Who do they think they are?”

“Why are they doing things differently?”

And if we are honest, this is not something done by outsiders to us.

Sometimes it is something we do to ourselves.

Communities that fall into that pattern often stay exactly where they are.

Because progress almost never comes from repeating the past.

It usually begins with someone willing to try something different.

The Question

The real test of leadership inside any community is not how it treats failure.

It is how it treats success.

Do we learn from it?

Or do we push it away?

Because history teaches a simple lesson:

A village that drives away its best hunters will eventually find itself hungry.

So the question for the village is simple:

What kind of village do we want to be?

Jerry Primm

Founder, Black Vanguard Media

Black Vanguard Media is dedicated to exploring ideas that strengthen the Black community through leadership, economic understanding, and thoughtful dialogue.