Advocacy Ain’t Easy, But It’s Necessary

Let me start here. The thing about advocacy is—you ain’t always gonna get what you want. Sometimes you won’t even get half of what you asked for. And that hurts. (You saw that em dash didn't you? Good.)

But advocacy is like a muscle. You take it to the gym. You put it under stress. It breaks down, it gets weak, it gets tired. But what happens when muscles tear? They rebuild. They come back stronger.

That’s what advocacy does for us. Every “no” you hear—yes, it stings. Baby, I feel it in my chest sometimes. People like to say, “What’s the worst that can happen? They’ll just say no.” But for some of us, no hurts. Deep. And yet—every time you push through it, every time you try again, you learn something. You learn how to speak differently. You learn how to message better. You learn how to reach people with power, even if all you have is influence. Advocacy strengthens you as it stretches you.

But hear me: advocacy takes integrity. Without integrity, it’s not advocacy at all. It’s ego. It’s performance. It’s about you, not about the cause, not about the people, not about justice.

And I need to remind you of this: doing what’s right is not always doing what’s just. History proves that. We’ve had laws that were legal—but not moral. Not just. Right can be twisted. But just? Just makes sure justice shows up, even when it costs you.

That’s why advocacy is more than speaking up. It’s sacrifice.

I remember. Sitting in that hospital bed after I was assaulted. Wrestling with whether to speak out. I was tired. I was worn down. I didn’t know if I had the energy to keep going.

Then the officer looked me in the eyes and gave me three things:

One—don’t waste our resources.
Two—you ought to want to do this for yourself.
Three—and if you can’t do it for yourself, then do it for somebody else. Because you never know—you might be the one to stop harm dead in its tracks.

That moment changed me. Because sometimes advocacy isn’t about you at all. Sometimes it’s about the next person.

Think about sidewalks. Somebody fought for sidewalks. Maybe they were thinking of folks in wheelchairs. But look at how it turned out—sidewalks help everybody. The person on the bike. The kid on the skateboard. The family that just wants to walk on even ground without stepping into traffic. That’s what advocacy does. It starts with one need, but it ends up blessing many more.

That’s the power of it. The fight might start small, but the impact reaches wide.

Now here’s the truth. Sometimes advocacy will cost you. You might not benefit at all. You might lose relationships. You might lose the label of being “nice.”

But I don’t want nice anymore. And you shouldn’t either.

We don’t need nice. We need kindness.

Kindness is not weakness. Kindness says: I will treat you with respect. I will keep my integrity intact. But I will not be a doormat. And I will not let you walk over anyone else either.

So what does advocacy look like?

It looks like fighting for better pay, better conditions, better morale at work.
It looks like standing up for your kids in school or on the field.
It looks like making sure your parents are treated with dignity in a nursing home.
It looks like pressing the insurance company when they deny claims.
And yes—it even looks like asking Chipotle for more rice, because you paid for it and you won’t be cheated.

Advocacy isn’t always a bull in a china shop. Sometimes it’s a conversation. Sometimes it’s influence. Sometimes it’s as small as asking, “How are you—really?” And that small moment becomes a domino that leads to change.

So, my dear reader, advocacy is not a game. It’s the reason we have the rights we enjoy today. It’s the reason we walk on sidewalks. And it will be the reason others have more tomorrow—if we don’t give up.

You might be saying, “Devin, I don’t know if I’m the one.” Then who is? What makes you better than the people who came before you? What makes you better than the ones who sacrificed, who endured, who risked?

You might be saying, “Devin, I don’t have the courage.” But you do. You’ve been advocating in small ways your whole life. You already have the muscle—you just need to use it.

So think about this. Think about three times you asked for change. Three times you stood your ground. Who benefited? Just you—or others too?

And when you get tired—because you will—remember this: being tired is OK. Fatigue is OK. But giving up is not. Throwing in the towel is not.

So do what is right. Do what is just. And when they don’t match—choose just.

And remember what that officer told me in that hospital room:
Don’t waste resources.
Do it for yourself.
And if you can’t do it for yourself—then do it for somebody else.

Because advocacy isn’t just about you.
It’s about us.
It’s about all of us.

So fight the good fight.