It is so sad that it takes so long for people to understand what

Hear, O children of courage and memory, the words of Faith Ringgold, the artist, storyteller, and freedom-seeker: “It is so sad that it takes so long for people to understand what needs to happen in order to be free.” In these few words she reveals not only her own sorrow but the shared lament of all generations who have struggled for justice. Hers is not a sadness of despair, but of wisdom—an awareness that freedom is never granted swiftly, for the hearts of men are slow to awaken, and truth is a light that many resist until suffering makes them see.

The origin of this quote lies in the long shadow of America’s history, and in Ringgold’s own life as a Black woman who fought through both racism and sexism to give voice to her art. Born in Harlem in 1930, she came of age in the era of segregation and the Civil Rights Movement. Her paintings and story quilts carried the cries of her ancestors, weaving history into color and form. When she speaks of how long it takes for people to understand freedom, she speaks from the lived experience of witnessing generations bound by invisible chains—chains not only of oppression, but of ignorance and fear.

Ringgold’s lament echoes the words of prophets and revolutionaries before her. Frederick Douglass once said, “Power concedes nothing without a demand. It never did and it never will.” Humanity’s progress toward liberation has always been slow because comfort resists change, and those who benefit from injustice are reluctant to see. The sadness Ringgold expresses is not simply about the delay of freedom—it is about the blindness of the spirit, the tragedy that people must suffer so deeply before they finally awaken to what must be done.

History offers countless examples of this truth. Consider Harriet Tubman, who risked her life to lead her people from bondage through the Underground Railroad. She was free in spirit long before the nation itself understood what freedom truly meant. Her courage revealed the path, yet it took a Civil War and oceans of blood for that vision to reach the hearts of many. The world, Ringgold reminds us, is always slow to catch up to its most awakened souls. The saddest truth is that those who see the way to freedom often walk it alone, far ahead of the multitudes who have yet to understand.

Yet within her sorrow lies an unspoken hope. For if understanding comes slowly, it still comes. Like the rising of dawn after a long night, human awakening may be delayed, but it is inevitable. Every act of protest, every voice raised in art or truth, shortens the distance between ignorance and enlightenment. Ringgold’s life itself stands as proof of this: her work, once dismissed, is now celebrated in museums across the world. Her message endures, teaching that art can be a vessel for liberation, that beauty and resistance are twin forces in the struggle for dignity.

The lesson in her words is this: do not despair when others do not yet understand your vision of freedom. Change moves through generations like a tide—it may retreat, but it always returns stronger. One must have patience, not passivity; faith, not fatigue. Those who dream of justice must labor not only to fight their oppressors, but to awaken the sleeping hearts of their fellow men. For true freedom is not won by the few, but by the many who come to understand together.

Practically, her wisdom calls us to educate, create, and persist. If freedom requires understanding, then our task is to spread truth through every means possible—through art, through words, through compassion, and through courage. We must teach our children to see clearly and to question boldly, so that the awakening may come sooner for them than it did for us.

Thus, let Faith Ringgold’s words endure as a lamp for all seekers: that though the path to freedom is long and filled with sorrow, it is walked with purpose. For each generation that suffers brings the next closer to light. And when at last understanding dawns, when hearts align with justice, the sadness Ringgold spoke of shall become the joy of liberation fulfilled—a joy hard-won, but eternal.