What’s The Point?
An Honest Question in Search of Black Answers.
Brilliant artist on set.
Earlier today, the sun was shining, the weather was perfect, and my dog was acting as if he had some sense. Jolted by the vibes around me, I decided to get out for a walk after a few days of battling a stomach virus that caused me to lose 5 pounds—praise God.
I meandered around the neighborhood until I stumbled upon a local event space to plan a launch event for this very platform. Everything seemed to fall into place. I found the perfect event space, secured a great date, and even negotiated a reasonable price. Once again, I was doing what I’ve always done—putting myself and my work out there to inspire, encourage, and inform.
Feeling accomplished, I left the space, now committed to spending money I hadn’t budgeted for. Almost immediately, I noticed a brand-new coffee shop in the neighborhood that had just opened, and it was already packed. It hadn’t been open more than a week, but it was buzzing with life—standing room only.
I stood there in disbelief, watching neighbors (most of whom I don’t know, despite living in Fort Greene for over 13 years) gather in a place that hadn’t existed just days earlier. Fort Greene wasn’t like this when I first moved here. The demographic has changed, but what baffled me was how something so new, so undefined, could be this successful right out of the gate.
Meanwhile, I know many creatives who work tirelessly, pour everything they have into their projects, and still struggle to get that same kind of immediate support. How can one business open its doors and be met with instant success, while others beg for patronage and receive little more than a half-hearted “maybe next time”?
I thought about The Mainstream and wondered, "What’s the point?"
The Philosophy of Courage
It’s a question that every Black creative faces at some point—what’s the point? Why do we keep creating, putting ourselves out there, and working against the odds when the results often seem elusive or inconsistent? It’s easy to feel as though you’re fighting an uphill battle, especially in a world that wasn’t built to uplift voices like ours. But if there’s anything that philosophy teaches us, it’s that courage is not the absence of fear or doubt—it’s the decision to persist in spite of them.
In The Courage to Be, philosopher Paul Tillich explores the concept of existential courage, which is the strength to affirm one’s own identity and purpose in the face of uncertainty and meaninglessness. For Black creatives, this courage manifests as the audacity to create in a world that may not always recognize or value our contributions. It’s about knowing that the path is not always linear, but that the journey itself is meaningful. The courage to be is about standing firm in your own creative power, even when the world doesn’t immediately validate you.
Daring Greatly
Brené Brown, in her work Daring Greatly, takes this idea of courage a step further. Brown’s research centers around vulnerability, and she makes a compelling case that it is through vulnerability that we truly access courage. To "dare greatly" is to show up fully in your work and your life, knowing that you might fail, be criticized, or even ignored. But still, you show up.
Brown speaks to the idea that creative work, by nature, is an act of vulnerability. Every time we put our art, writing, or projects out into the world, we are daring greatly. We are exposing parts of ourselves, knowing full well that the reception may not be what we hoped for. But the beauty lies in the act itself—in daring.
For Black creatives, this act of daring is even more profound. We not only face the inherent risks of being vulnerable through our work, but we also navigate the additional challenges of systemic inequity, racial bias, and gatekeeping in industries that weren’t designed with us in mind. Yet, we keep daring. We keep creating. And that, in itself, is a radical act of courage.
Success Beyond the Mainstream
Standing outside that packed coffee shop, I couldn’t help but feel a moment of frustration, but also a deeper reflection. Success in the mainstream isn’t the only measure of impact. The world we create for ourselves, the communities we inspire, and the stories we tell all have lasting power, even if they don’t immediately yield financial rewards or widespread acclaim.
We don’t just create for validation; we create because it’s who we are. It’s in our bones, our culture, our history. From the Harlem Renaissance to the Black Arts Movement, Black creatives have always forged paths that redefine success on our own terms. Sometimes, the world doesn’t catch up right away. Sometimes, it doesn’t catch up at all. But we know the point isn’t to be accepted by the mainstream; the point is to keep going, to keep daring greatly.
You Dreamed It, You Made It
At the end of the day, the question of "What’s the point?" isn’t about external success. It’s about internal fulfillment. The point is the creative act itself. The point is that you dared to dream, dared to create, and dared to put something into the world that wasn’t there before.
As Black creatives, we are not defined by how quickly the world embraces our work. We are defined by the fact that we keep showing up, keep building, and keep creating in spite of it all. We dare greatly, and that is the point. The point is that you dreamed it, and you made it.
THAT is the point.
