Do the Work That’s Yours

When national collapse mirrors corporate decay, your quiet resistance still counts.

Not the loudest work. Not the most visible, most retweeted, most glorified version of “fighting the good fight.”
Just the work that’s yours. The work you can’t not do.

Because if we each did that—fully, unapologetically, without waiting for permission—this whole system would shift.

You don’t have to join the army.
But don’t sit this out.

We need every kind of resistor. Every kind of builder.
Especially the ones who see what others miss.

The United States is on fire.

The headlines keep getting darker. The systems are crumbling. My Instagram feed is a scrollable siren: rally here, protest there, show up, donate, amplify, act.
And I believe in all of it. I do.

But I’m not the best version of myself in crowds.
I’m not built for the megaphone.
I’m not much of a joiner.

I’ve stopped making excuses for that.

Because while the country burns, I’ve come to see something just as alarming:
What’s broken out there is also broken in here—in our boardrooms, in our organizations, in the rituals we follow every day without questioning who they actually serve.

Our government is a case study in what happens when B-Players hire C-Players and Player X runs unchecked through the halls. But that’s not just a Washington problem. That’s a workplace problem. A leadership problem. A systems problem.

And that’s where I come in.

My work isn’t in the streets. It’s here, at the keyboard. In the back-to-back executive calls. In the decision trees where power either gets hoarded or shared. In the invisible seams where culture either stretches or tears.

I believe activism can look like deep systems work. Like seeing something broken and choosing to trace it to its source instead of throwing slogans at its surface.

I’m not here to perform change. I’m here to provoke it.

And I do that by noticing. By naming. By connecting the dots that weren’t meant to be connected.

This isn’t about being louder or braver or more correct.
It’s about being useful—where I’m actually built to be useful.

The quiet work of noticing.
The harder work of naming.
And the necessary work of asking: What if the way we’ve been working… has never actually worked?