I think that there is an element where leadership is lonely, but

Hear the words of Alicia Garza, a builder of movements and a voice for justice, who spoke with both honesty and hope: “I think that there is an element where leadership is lonely, but I also believe that it doesn’t have to be like that.” In these words is revealed the paradox of guiding others: that to lead often means to stand apart, to bear burdens unseen, to walk roads others may fear. And yet, she declares that this burden need not condemn a leader to isolation—community, solidarity, and shared vision can turn loneliness into companionship and strength.

The ancients, too, recognized this dual truth. Consider Moses, who led his people out of bondage. Though he carried a divine mission, he often lamented his loneliness, crying out that the weight of the people was too great for one man. And yet, wise counsel was given to him: appoint others to share in the labor, to carry the load of judgment and guidance. Thus, even the greatest leader found relief in community. Garza’s words echo this lesson: leadership may be lonely, but it need not remain so if one dares to invite others into the work.

History offers further witness. Think of Abraham Lincoln, sitting in the White House during the Civil War, feeling the loneliness of decisions that would shape the fate of millions. It was said that he carried his sorrows in silence, pacing the halls at night. Yet he was not utterly alone. He gathered around him a “team of rivals,” men of strong will and differing views, to advise him. By seeking counsel, by refusing to bear the burden in solitude, Lincoln turned isolation into shared labor. This is the heart of Garza’s wisdom: loneliness in leadership is real, but not inevitable.

Why does leadership often feel lonely? Because the leader must sometimes see beyond what others see, must make choices that carry heavy consequence, and must hold steady even when the crowd falters. Yet Garza reminds us that loneliness grows when leaders close themselves off, when they fail to trust or to cultivate connection. The cure, then, is not to abandon leadership, but to practice it differently: to lead with openness, to build structures of trust, to lean upon others as partners in the struggle.

There is also a hidden strength in acknowledging loneliness. A leader who pretends never to feel it becomes hardened, distant, and proud. But a leader who admits it may discover the power of vulnerability, creating deeper bonds with their people. For when leaders share their burdens, others are moved to share in them, and the path becomes less solitary. In this way, the leader is not diminished, but humanized, and the followers are not passive, but participants.

The lesson for us, O listener, is profound: if you lead, do not accept loneliness as your fate. Seek counsel. Build bonds. Create community. Remember that even the strongest shoulders will bend under too much weight, but many shoulders together can carry nations. And if you follow, do not leave your leaders isolated. Support them, remind them of their humanity, and stand beside them when the night grows long. For leadership, rightly practiced, is not the path of one but of many walking together.

Thus, let Alicia Garza’s words endure as a beacon: leadership may bear moments of loneliness, but it need not be a life of solitude. With courage to reach outward, with humility to share the burden, leaders can transform their loneliness into fellowship, and their isolation into unity. Walk this path, and you will not only lead with strength, but also live with joy, knowing that the journey is never truly yours alone.