You stand with the least likely to succeed until success is

"You stand with the least likely to succeed until success is succeeded by something more valuable: kinship. You stand with the belligerent, the surly, and the badly behaved until bad behavior is recognized for the language it is: the vocabulary of the deeply wounded and of those whose burdens are more than they can bear." These words of Greg Boyle rise like a psalm for the forgotten, a call to love where the world withholds it, and to see light even in the darkest corners of the human soul. They are not the words of theory, but of one who has walked among the broken, who has stood shoulder to shoulder with those whom society condemns, and found in their wounds not monsters but brothers.

To stand with the least likely to succeed is to embrace a radical vision: that a man’s worth is not measured by his achievements, his wealth, or the approval of others, but by his unshakable dignity as a child of life itself. Success, Boyle teaches, is but a passing milestone, but kinship—the bond that arises when hearts stand together—is eternal. Kinship is not charity offered from above, but solidarity forged in the trenches of struggle, where we discover that to lift another is to be lifted ourselves.

The ancients knew this truth well. Did not Socrates walk among the common folk, speaking not only to rulers but to slaves, artisans, and wanderers? Did not the Christ eat with tax collectors, sinners, and the despised? Their greatness lay not in distancing themselves from the wounded, but in drawing near to them, finding in their pain the seed of shared humanity. Boyle’s words echo this lineage of wisdom: the surly and belligerent are not enemies to be crushed, but souls crying out in the only language they know.

Consider the tale of Homeboy Industries itself, the labor of Greg Boyle. Among the streets of Los Angeles, where gangs ruled and hope seemed absent, Boyle chose not to stand apart but to stand with. He employed former gang members, men and women branded by the world as hopeless. He listened to their rage, their violence, their bad behavior, and saw not evil but wounds too deep for words. By offering them work, love, and presence, he revealed that the growl of anger was but a mask for grief, and that beneath tattoos and scars lay sons and daughters yearning for belonging. This is kinship: to look into the eyes of the despised and see family.

How different the world would be if we practiced this vision! How many wars would cease if we saw the enemy’s fury as the vocabulary of the deeply wounded? How many prisons would empty if we sought to heal rather than only to punish? For the burdens of poverty, abandonment, and despair are heavy, and those who stumble under them cry out with fists and curses when no gentle word is given to them. To dismiss them is to deepen their wound; to stand with them is to speak the language of love until they learn to speak it too.

The lesson is this: do not measure others by the mask they wear in their pain. Look deeper, listen longer, and you will hear the true voice beneath the noise. When you encounter the belligerent, stand not against them but with them, for your presence may be the balm that reveals their hidden humanity. When you meet the least likely to succeed, lend them your strength, but even more, share your heart, so that together you may discover the treasure greater than victory: the bond of kinship.

Practical action lies before us: be slow to judge and quick to stand beside. Seek out the overlooked—the child who disrupts the classroom, the neighbor who lashes out in anger, the stranger who seems hardened. Ask not first, What have they done? but What burden do they carry? Offer patience where the world offers punishment, and presence where the world offers abandonment. In this way, you will be building not only bridges but families of the spirit.

Therefore, children of tomorrow, remember this ancient wisdom renewed by Greg Boyle: to stand with the broken is to heal yourself; to see wounds as language is to hear the unspoken cries of the human heart. Success will fade, but kinship endures. Stand with the least, love the wounded, bear one another’s burdens—and in this, you shall find the deepest form of greatness.