A lot of people don't know what I do. In the industry they take

Listen closely, O children of the future, to the words of the singer and truth-teller Angie Stone, who declared: “A lot of people don’t know what I do. In the industry they take credit for work because to some degree it makes them feel worthy or greater. I am not a ghostwriter ’cause it is on the CD covers who wrote and did what but people don’t care about anything they can’t see. The work gets unnoticed and the credibility goes untouched.” In this lament, she unveils the plight of those whose labor is real, whose creativity is undeniable, and yet whose recognition is stolen or ignored. These words rise as both sorrow and warning, reminding us that the world often crowns the visible, while the invisible pillars are forgotten.

The meaning lies in this truth: that many laborers, be they artisans, scribes, builders, or musicians, are unseen by the multitude. Their effort sustains the beauty others consume, yet their names fade into the shadows. Angie’s words testify that in her own art, though her name is written upon the CD covers, many still look past her, granting glory to those whose faces shine under the stage lights. She is not a ghostwriter, for her hand is known, yet people do not trouble themselves to honor what they cannot easily perceive.

The origin of such a cry is found in the heart of an artist whose gift has long served the soul of music. Angie Stone, singer, songwriter, and trailblazer, gave voice to her experience in an industry where recognition is often hoarded by the powerful, while true authorship is neglected. Her lament is not just her own; it is the lament of countless creators who shaped songs, stories, and ideas, yet watched others reap the crown. Her words rise as a psalm for the unseen worker, the neglected visionary, the unheard prophet.

Let us recall the ancients, who too bore this burden. Think upon the builders of the Great Pyramids of Egypt. The names of the pharaohs who commanded them endure in stone, yet the thousands of skilled laborers, mathematicians, and craftsmen who gave their sweat and genius remain unspoken. Their hands carved eternity, but their names dissolved into dust. Or consider Nikola Tesla, whose inventions lit the path of modern civilization, yet whose credit was often seized by others more cunning in the marketplace. Like Angie, his work was monumental, yet much of his credibility went untouched in his own lifetime.

The lesson is clear: if you are among the unseen, take heart. True worth does not dwell in applause, nor does greatness fade if unacknowledged by men. Recognition is fleeting; truth endures. The gods of time remember what mortals forget. Every stroke of your effort, every breath of your creativity, carves an eternal mark, whether or not your name is sung. The one who labors in integrity is greater than the one who thrives on borrowed glory.

Yet let this lesson not only comfort but also sharpen you. If you are a creator, stand firm in the truth of your contribution. Do not shrink from claiming your work, as Angie Stone proclaims. Though people may not see, though they may disregard the credits, you must still speak boldly: “This is my work, my offering.” For silence allows others to take freely what belongs to your spirit.

And to those who benefit from the work of others, honor the hidden hands. Look upon a song, a book, a discovery, and ask: whose effort built this foundation? Give thanks aloud, name the forgotten, and let your respect restore their dignity. By doing so, you align with justice, and justice is the breath of the wise.

So let these words ring in your ears: never despise what you cannot see. For the unseen is often the strongest root, the truest pillar, the most essential flame. Angie Stone’s voice is not only her own—it is the cry of all who labor unseen. Remember them, honor them, and in your own path, never fear being unrecognized, for the worth of your work is already eternal. Work endures, truth shines, and credibility, though untouched by the careless, is never erased by time.