To tell the truth is to become beautiful, to begin to love

“To tell the truth is to become beautiful, to begin to love yourself, value yourself. And that's political, in its most profound way.” Thus spoke June Jordan, poet, teacher, and warrior of words. Her voice rises not merely from the heart of one woman but from the struggles of peoples long silenced, peoples who were told their truth did not matter. In her vision, truth is not just a moral ornament—it is a flame that transforms the self, and when enough voices burn together, it becomes a revolution. To speak the truth is to strip away shame, to embrace the dignity of one’s own soul, and in doing so, to challenge the powers that profit from silence.

For the ancients also knew that truth is beauty. Plato spoke of the Good, the True, and the Beautiful as bound together, like strands of a golden cord. To dwell in falsehood is to disfigure oneself, to wear a mask that twists the spirit. But to declare the truth, even when it is hard, is to shine with a light that no earthly crown can bestow. In Jordan’s teaching, this light is not only personal—it is also political, for when many oppressed voices begin to shine with truth, the rulers of darkness tremble.

History bears witness to this. Consider the Civil Rights Movement in America. When Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat, she was not merely resisting segregation—she was telling the truth with her body. The truth that her dignity was not less than another’s. That truth was beautiful, for it radiated self-respect and courage. And it was political, for it ignited a movement that shook the foundations of injustice. By speaking and living the truth, she began to love and value herself openly, and in that act, she declared freedom for millions.

But there are other stories too, tales of those who kept silent, who swallowed the truth for fear or favor. The courtiers of tyrants often praise with lies, and in their dishonesty they become twisted shadows, despising even themselves. In apartheid South Africa, many who might have spoken out chose silence, and so the system endured for decades longer. Lies deformed both the rulers and the ruled, until truth came roaring through the voices of Mandela, Biko, and countless unnamed souls who dared to proclaim: “We are human.” When truth was told, beauty was restored, and the political order itself was overturned.

Thus, children of the future, learn this lesson well: to tell the truth is not only a private virtue but a public power. When you name what is real in your life—your joys, your wounds, your worth—you begin to walk taller. You begin to see yourself as sacred. And when many walk tall together, the ground itself shakes beneath the feet of kings. This is why Jordan says truth-telling is political: because nothing threatens lies and tyranny more than people who have learned to value themselves.

Let your practice be this: speak your truth, even in small things. Do not hide your story out of shame. Tell it to a friend, write it upon the page, sing it aloud, pass it down. Each word of truth is a seed of beauty, and each seed sown weakens the soil of oppression. When asked who you are, answer without disguise. When you see injustice, name it without fear. This is not arrogance; it is loyalty to your own soul and to the souls of those yet unborn.

And remember: beauty is not found in pleasing appearances, but in courage. Truth makes the spirit radiant, truth teaches you to love yourself, truth makes you strong enough to stand against the storm. And when the world is filled with such beauty, born of honesty, even empires will crumble, and a new dawn will rise for humankind.