Stop Waiting for Everybody Before Somebody Does Something
History’s most consequential movements rarely began with everybody. They began when enough people decided that what everyone else had learned to tolerate was no longer acceptable.
There is a phrase that can kill almost any attempt at change before it begins.
“People aren’t going to do anything.”
It sounds practical. Sometimes it even sounds wise.
Why challenge the system if everybody is not prepared to stand with you? Why confront an institution if most people will remain quiet? Why risk a relationship, a job, a contract or political access when the community itself may not immediately respond?
The problem is that history does not support the premise.
The people who changed America rarely began with the masses.
They began with enough.
David Walker Did Not Take a Poll
David Walker published Appeal to the Coloured Citizens of the World in 1829.
He did not wait for a national Black organization to approve his language. He did not conduct a survey to determine whether most Americans were ready for his argument. He did not soften his challenge to Thomas Jefferson because Jefferson remained one of the most revered figures in the country.
Walker saw something he believed was wrong and confronted it.
His pamphlet traveled through Black networks and into Southern states where authorities considered it dangerous. He challenged slavery, white supremacy, colonization and the intellectual assumptions used to justify Black subordination.
There were Black people who disagreed with his militancy. There were abolitionists who preferred different methods. There were people who undoubtedly thought his approach was too dangerous.
Walker wrote anyway.
That is worth remembering because modern advocacy often treats consensus as a prerequisite for courage.
It never was.
Four Students Sat Down
On February 1, 1960, four Black students from North Carolina A&T walked into the Woolworth’s in Greensboro, North Carolina, purchased items elsewhere in the store and then sat at a lunch counter where Black customers were denied service.
Four.
Not four thousand.
Ezell Blair Jr., David Richmond, Franklin McCain and Joseph McNeil did not wait until the entire Black population of Greensboro agreed to participate.
They sat down.
The next day, more students joined them. Then more.
The Greensboro sit-ins helped accelerate a movement that spread to cities across the South.
That is often how change works.
What eventually looks inevitable can begin looking very lonely.
The Masses Usually Arrive Later
The Montgomery Bus Boycott ultimately involved a remarkable share of Montgomery’s Black community, but it did not appear from nowhere. Years of organizing, local networks, churches, the Women’s Political Council and earlier acts of resistance had already created the foundation.
People organized. They called meetings. They printed notices. They arranged transportation. They persuaded neighbors. They endured inconvenience.
Momentum followed action.
Action did not wait for momentum.
The same lesson followed John Lewis onto the Edmund Pettus Bridge. Lewis and the other marchers did not know that Bloody Sunday would help awaken the nation to what was happening in Alabama. They moved before they knew what the country would do with what it saw.
That is the part of “good trouble” that becomes easy to forget once the phrase is printed on T-shirts.
Trouble becomes necessary when existing institutions have made justice impossible without disruption.
King Was Not Waiting for Universal Approval
Martin Luther King Jr. has become so universally quotable that it is easy to forget how contested his leadership actually was.
King was repeatedly told his methods were poorly timed. He was criticized for demonstrations that disrupted public order. He faced criticism from white moderates and disagreements within the broader civil-rights movement. His opposition to the Vietnam War alienated political allies. His growing focus on poverty and economic inequality pushed him into increasingly difficult territory.
He kept moving.
That does not mean King ignored strategy or public opinion. He understood both.
It means he did not confuse popularity with moral legitimacy.
Today, some people seem willing to confront injustice only after polling confirms that confrontation is safe.
That is not how the people we celebrate operated.
When the New Numbers Come Out
That history matters in Cuyahoga County right now.
The County has already commissioned research documenting substantial disparities in public contracting. Its 2020 disparity study examined fiscal years 2014 through 2018 and found extraordinary gaps between the availability of African American-owned businesses and the share of prime contracting dollars they actually received.
Another disparity study is scheduled to arrive in a very different national political environment.
President Donald Trump and Republicans have aggressively challenged DEI programs and race-conscious initiatives. Those actions can matter to what remedies local governments believe are legally available today.
But they cannot be permitted to rewrite yesterday.
Current federal anti-DEI policies cannot explain contracting disparities documented between 2014 and 2018. They cannot explain what Cuyahoga County did—or failed to do—in the years after the previous study and before the current federal policy environment existed.
That timeline matters.
When the new report is released, there may be legitimate debate over what federal policy permits going forward. But that is a different question from whether Cuyahoga County made measurable progress when today’s federal restrictions were not the explanation.
The public should insist that those questions remain separate.
The Vocabulary Can Change. The Ledger Cannot.
There is another reason the national DEI argument should not become a convenient distraction.
Even if the legal environment changes the kinds of race-conscious remedies government can use, basic accountability does not disappear.
How much money did the County spend?
Who received it?
What percentage went to Black-owned businesses?
How did utilization compare with the availability of qualified firms?
Did the gap improve after the previous disparity study?
How many bonding waivers were granted?
Were prompt-payment requirements enforced?
Which recommendations were implemented?
Which were not?
Those are not slogans.
They are procurement questions.
Government can change terminology. Courts and presidents can change the legal boundaries around particular programs. Political leaders can argue about the meaning of DEI.
None of that changes the historical ledger.
The numbers from yesterday remain the numbers from yesterday.
Do Not Let the New Report Become Another Old Report
When Cuyahoga County’s next disparity study is released, there will likely be presentations, meetings, explanations and recommendations.
That cannot be where the process ends.
The previous report should sit beside the new one.
The numbers should be compared.
Promises should be identified.
Policies should be tracked.
Officials should be asked what success will look like one year later, three years later and five years later.
And those answers should be written down.
Because reports do not create equity.
Implementation does.
If the new numbers show meaningful improvement, that progress should be acknowledged.
If they do not, the public should not accept an explanation merely because it sounds politically convenient.
Ask the simplest question:
What did you do before Trump?
Then ask the next one:
What can you legally do now?
Those are two different questions, and responsible government should be able to answer both.
Stop Waiting for the Perfect Crowd
One of the most damaging assumptions in community work is that an issue is not actionable until a large crowd appears.
That gives institutions an enormous advantage.
If officials know citizens will act only when thousands of people are mobilized, they merely have to survive the period before thousands arrive.
But accountability does not require a stadium.
A handful of business owners can organize around procurement data. A small group of citizens can attend public meetings consistently. Researchers can track awards. Journalists can publish the numbers. Clergy can ask questions publicly. Attorneys can examine whether existing policies are being followed. Business organizations can request records. Residents can ask elected officials for measurable commitments and then return six months later to ask what happened.
A movement can begin with a spreadsheet.
It can begin with a public-records request.
It can begin with five business owners sitting around a table comparing experiences.
It can begin with one person asking a question everybody else has learned not to ask.
The point is not the size of the beginning.
The point is whether anybody begins.
Civil Rights Is Not a Spectator Sport
There is another habit that has weakened civic participation.
People increasingly expect civil-rights organizations, elected officials, professional advocates or nonprofit leaders to do the work for them.
Those institutions have responsibilities.
But history did not assign civil rights exclusively to professionals.
Ordinary people were indispensable to every movement we now celebrate.
They volunteered. They contributed money. They attended meetings. They boycotted. They opened their homes. They transported people. They challenged employers. They registered voters. They voted. They organized.
Some had titles.
Most did not need one.
A community that outsources all of its advocacy eventually becomes dependent upon the people being paid to advocate.
That becomes especially dangerous when the organizations expected to challenge power depend financially upon the same institutions that need to be challenged.
Citizens have to remain capable of acting for themselves.
Courage Does Not Require Recklessness
Everybody does not have the same ability to absorb risk.
A single parent earning an hourly wage occupies a different position from a wealthy business owner. A government employee may face restrictions that an independent entrepreneur does not. A nonprofit executive dependent on grants faces pressures different from those facing a retired citizen.
Movements should recognize those differences rather than shame people for them.
But different levels of risk create different opportunities for contribution.
If you cannot speak publicly, you may be able to document.
If you cannot lead the protest, you may be able to fund the research.
If your employment prevents you from becoming the public face, you may be able to help someone else understand the system.
If you cannot attend every meeting, you can make one phone call.
If you cannot contribute money, you can contribute information.
The question is not whether everybody can do everything.
The question is whether everybody has decided they can do nothing.
Access Is Not the Same as Power
Communities can become overly impressed with access.
Being invited into the room feels like influence.
Sometimes it is.
But access and power are not the same thing.
A person can attend every meeting, sit on every committee, appear in every photograph and still be incapable of changing the outcome.
Real influence eventually has to produce something measurable.
Did the policy change?
Did the dollars move?
Did the barrier come down?
Did participation increase?
Did the institution do something differently because you were there?
If not, the invitation may be benefiting the institution more than the community.
That is another reason independent civic pressure matters.
The people inside the room need people outside the room willing to ask what happened in it.
Enough People
The phrase “you don’t need the masses” should not be misunderstood.
Mass movements can transform countries. Broad participation matters. Coalitions matter. Elections matter. Numbers matter.
But waiting for everybody is one of the surest ways to guarantee that nobody starts.
David Walker did not need everybody.
The Greensboro Four did not need everybody on February 1, 1960.
The first organizers in Montgomery did not begin with everybody.
John Lewis did not wait for everybody before crossing the bridge.
King did not wait until America agreed with him.
They moved.
Others followed.
That is the lesson.
We have spent generations teaching people about the courage of the civil-rights movement while sometimes teaching them almost nothing about how courage actually behaves.
Courage does not always begin with a microphone. It does not always begin with a march. It does not always begin with an organization.
Sometimes it begins when one person refuses to accept an explanation that no longer makes sense.
Then another person agrees.
Then another.
That is enough to start.
History rarely begins with the masses.
It begins when a few people decide that what everybody else has learned to tolerate is no longer acceptable.
REPORTING NOTE
This article is Part Three of Black Vanguard Media’s “When Civil Rights Costs Something” series. Historical references include David Walker’s Appeal, the Greensboro sit-ins, the Montgomery Bus Boycott, Martin Luther King Jr. and John Lewis. The Cuyahoga County discussion builds on the County’s 2020 Disparity Study and the contracting and policy issues examined in Part Two.