I built a series of supporters that had my back. I never abused

The words of Michael Arad carry the weight of wisdom forged in responsibility: “I built a series of supporters that had my back. I never abused that trust. You can’t cry wolf. You have to solve most problems yourself.” In this teaching, we hear the essence of leadership, humility, and perseverance. For no one rises alone, yet no one may lean forever upon others without first carrying the burden of their own struggle. To build supporters is noble, but to respect their trust and not exploit it is the mark of true character.

The ancients spoke often of such balance. The warrior in battle fought with his comrades at his side, yet he also bore his own shield and wielded his own sword. He could not cry out for rescue at every turn, lest his companions lose faith in him. Likewise, Arad reminds us that while allies and supporters are vital, one must not misuse their strength by demanding rescue from every hardship. To do so is to weaken the bonds of trust until they fray, like a rope pulled too tightly.

Consider the fable of “The Boy Who Cried Wolf,” which Arad himself echoes. The shepherd boy squandered the trust of his village, calling for help when none was needed, until the day came when danger was real and no one answered. In contrast, the wise leader calls upon others only when truly necessary, showing discernment and restraint. Thus, when the true crisis arises, his supporters respond with loyalty, knowing their strength is not wasted. This is the meaning of Arad’s words: never abuse the faith placed in you, for once broken, it is not easily restored.

Arad himself, the architect of the 9/11 Memorial, speaks from the burden of great responsibility. His vision required the support of committees, leaders, and communities still raw with grief. To carry such a task demanded not only creativity, but discipline and integrity. He could not rely solely on others to solve each obstacle; he had to face countless problems himself, bearing the strain so that the final creation would stand as a worthy tribute. In this, his wisdom is proven: only by solving what he could on his own did he preserve the trust of those who stood behind him.

The deeper meaning of this saying is heroic: that we must each walk the line between independence and community. To demand nothing of others is pride; to demand everything is weakness. But to labor with diligence, calling for aid only when truly needed, is to walk the middle path of wisdom. This path strengthens bonds, for supporters see that their help is valued, not squandered. It also strengthens the self, for in solving most of our own problems, we grow in resilience and capacity.

The lesson is clear: build your circle of allies with care, but honor their strength by not misusing it. Preserve the sacred gift of trust by being measured in your requests, leaning upon others only when the burden is too great to bear alone. In all other matters, take up your own labor, solve your own struggles, and prove yourself worthy of the help you are given. In this balance lies both personal honor and the loyalty of others.

Practical actions follow: examine your life and discern which burdens you can and must carry yourself. Face them with courage rather than looking immediately for rescue. When you call upon your supporters, do so with humility and sincerity, ensuring their aid is not wasted. And in turn, be a trustworthy supporter to others, ready to give help when the call is true. In this way, you will cultivate both self-reliance and community, weaving a bond of trust that endures through trial and time.