Perspective:
In 2012, Failure is Not An Option
In 2012, Failure is Not An Option
By Lisa Peyton Caire
The new year has a magical way of sweeping in feelings of hope and expectation and the need to banish
the old to make way for the new. Such was my preoccupation for a portion of New Year’s Day as I sat
purging my inbox of junk mail and whittling my messages down from over 1,000 to a manageable 300 in
the name of getting organized and clearing space for new opportunities. As I made my way through
mounds of subject lines, some more inspiring than others, I was struck by the simple yet profound
header of an e-blast from Dr. Floyd Rose, President of the African American Communication and
Collaboration Council:
"If one fails, the community fails."
This was certainly not my first encounter with such a concept. The notion of a shared destiny, collective
fate, and an assumed responsibility for one another’s survival and well-being was an integral part of the
training my siblings, peers, and I received from our parents and grandparents, our church elders, and
other caring adults in our community. In fact, our elders seemed to be imbued with a pious devotion to
The new year has a magical way of sweeping in feelings of hope and expectation and the need to banish
the old to make way for the new. Such was my preoccupation for a portion of New Year’s Day as I sat
purging my inbox of junk mail and whittling my messages down from over 1,000 to a manageable 300 in
the name of getting organized and clearing space for new opportunities. As I made my way through
mounds of subject lines, some more inspiring than others, I was struck by the simple yet profound
header of an e-blast from Dr. Floyd Rose, President of the African American Communication and
Collaboration Council:
"If one fails, the community fails."
This was certainly not my first encounter with such a concept. The notion of a shared destiny, collective
fate, and an assumed responsibility for one another’s survival and well-being was an integral part of the
training my siblings, peers, and I received from our parents and grandparents, our church elders, and
other caring adults in our community. In fact, our elders seemed to be imbued with a pious devotion to
Lisa Peyton Caire
lifting up their fellow man, making a way for the least among them, and for solving the challenges facing their community together—
despite the fact that individually, they had very little.
These quiet, unassuming giants took pride in feeding and clothing their neighbors through rough times, job losses, and other unexpected
circumstances while preserving the dignity of those they helped. They organized effortlessly, pooled their otherwise meager resources
together, and planned strategically in basements, living rooms, barber shops and beauty parlors to leave their communities better and
stronger than they inherited them, with the foremost intention of leaving behind a legacy for the children.
The efforts of these ordinary women and men resulted in the building and expansion of churches, the development of early childhood
programs, thriving youth clubs and year-round learning experiences that extended beyond school. They included welcoming committees
for new families entering the community and active social clubs and organizations to create and cultivate strong relationships and
networks.
A fair number of individuals ventured into entrepreneurship, maintaining successful small businesses that provided essential products
and services within their own neighborhoods and with the residual effect of generating a healthy system of commerce and economic
activity in their own backyards. Others even went so far as to engage in civic affairs, pursuing public office and advocating for greater
representation, resources, and fair policies directly impacting their communities and their next-door neighbors. In gist, if the needs of all
had not been sufficiently met, they were intent on doing something about it.
These men and women spent little time talking about what to do and used far more of their time ‘doing’. Somehow they understood at a
fundamental level that they were their own charity, their own lending institutions — their own economic development corporations. More
importantly, they were devoted to cultivating, exercising, and expanding their individual and shared capacity to be and create the
answers they so desperately needed to develop strong, stable communities in which to raise their families and to contribute to the greater
public good.
Though I believe this principle remains a basic tenet of our collective consciousness today, particularly in communities of color, I contend
that the state of affairs we find ourselves in in 2012 requires that we engage with a renewed fierceness and intensity that mirrors the
tenacity of our elders who operated with far fewer resources at their disposal than we enjoy today. In a time where our communities are
faced with similarly debilitating challenges as those faced by our parents and grandparents, we must be more committed than ever to
step up and be the answers we want to see in our own backyards.
As we confront depression-level rates of joblessness and under-employment, dead and dying industries, deteriorating urban centers and
rural communities, frightening rates of school failure among Black and Hispanic youth, alarming numbers of fathers absent from homes,
mothers involuntarily raising children alone, staggering health disparities and high rates of chronic illness, disease and premature death
among women and men of color; and a near 50% incarceration rate of Black men and boys — it is time for us to recommit to the tradition
of self-help and the ‘no failure allowed’ mindset that our elders embodied as they navigated the troubled waters of Jim Crow, legal
discrimination and the absence of civil , social, and economic rights.
As we move forward — 135 years after Reconstruction, 58 years after Brown vs. Board of Education, 48 years after the passage of the
Civil Rights Act of 1964, and four years after the election of the first Black President of the United States, we have much work to do still
and many daunting challenges to solve. If we are to be successful, we must engage in the fight together, not for our own sakes but for the
sake of all, and most significantly, in defense of our young people who stand to lose or gain the most from our efforts. As we become the
new leaders, the new elders, and the torchbearers of our generation, our eyes must be squarely set on one driving principle; if one fails,
the community fails—and failure is not an option.
despite the fact that individually, they had very little.
These quiet, unassuming giants took pride in feeding and clothing their neighbors through rough times, job losses, and other unexpected
circumstances while preserving the dignity of those they helped. They organized effortlessly, pooled their otherwise meager resources
together, and planned strategically in basements, living rooms, barber shops and beauty parlors to leave their communities better and
stronger than they inherited them, with the foremost intention of leaving behind a legacy for the children.
The efforts of these ordinary women and men resulted in the building and expansion of churches, the development of early childhood
programs, thriving youth clubs and year-round learning experiences that extended beyond school. They included welcoming committees
for new families entering the community and active social clubs and organizations to create and cultivate strong relationships and
networks.
A fair number of individuals ventured into entrepreneurship, maintaining successful small businesses that provided essential products
and services within their own neighborhoods and with the residual effect of generating a healthy system of commerce and economic
activity in their own backyards. Others even went so far as to engage in civic affairs, pursuing public office and advocating for greater
representation, resources, and fair policies directly impacting their communities and their next-door neighbors. In gist, if the needs of all
had not been sufficiently met, they were intent on doing something about it.
These men and women spent little time talking about what to do and used far more of their time ‘doing’. Somehow they understood at a
fundamental level that they were their own charity, their own lending institutions — their own economic development corporations. More
importantly, they were devoted to cultivating, exercising, and expanding their individual and shared capacity to be and create the
answers they so desperately needed to develop strong, stable communities in which to raise their families and to contribute to the greater
public good.
Though I believe this principle remains a basic tenet of our collective consciousness today, particularly in communities of color, I contend
that the state of affairs we find ourselves in in 2012 requires that we engage with a renewed fierceness and intensity that mirrors the
tenacity of our elders who operated with far fewer resources at their disposal than we enjoy today. In a time where our communities are
faced with similarly debilitating challenges as those faced by our parents and grandparents, we must be more committed than ever to
step up and be the answers we want to see in our own backyards.
As we confront depression-level rates of joblessness and under-employment, dead and dying industries, deteriorating urban centers and
rural communities, frightening rates of school failure among Black and Hispanic youth, alarming numbers of fathers absent from homes,
mothers involuntarily raising children alone, staggering health disparities and high rates of chronic illness, disease and premature death
among women and men of color; and a near 50% incarceration rate of Black men and boys — it is time for us to recommit to the tradition
of self-help and the ‘no failure allowed’ mindset that our elders embodied as they navigated the troubled waters of Jim Crow, legal
discrimination and the absence of civil , social, and economic rights.
As we move forward — 135 years after Reconstruction, 58 years after Brown vs. Board of Education, 48 years after the passage of the
Civil Rights Act of 1964, and four years after the election of the first Black President of the United States, we have much work to do still
and many daunting challenges to solve. If we are to be successful, we must engage in the fight together, not for our own sakes but for the
sake of all, and most significantly, in defense of our young people who stand to lose or gain the most from our efforts. As we become the
new leaders, the new elders, and the torchbearers of our generation, our eyes must be squarely set on one driving principle; if one fails,
the community fails—and failure is not an option.