Young people don't want to be second to anyone. Everyone wants

So spoke Compay Segundo, son of Cuba and master of song, when he declared: “Young people don’t want to be second to anyone. Everyone wants to be an overnight star. Look how many years I had to wait, how many roads I had to travel, how many songs I had to sing. And now I’m just beginning, never ending.” These words are the testimony of a man who walked the long, winding path of perseverance, who endured the years of obscurity before his music at last reached the ears of the world.

At the heart of his saying is a truth about ambition and time. The young often dream of greatness blooming quickly, like a flame that catches in an instant. But Segundo reminds us that true greatness does not rise overnight—it is forged in patience, in countless steps upon the roads of experience, in the repeated offering of one’s gift until it resonates in the hearts of others. His own life bore witness to this truth, for he did not find international recognition until he was already an old man, when the Buena Vista Social Club brought his music to the world.

This is the meaning of the “overnight star”—a dream that many chase, but few ever attain. For the star that rises too quickly may also fade too soon, while the one who endures years of labor shines with a steadier, more enduring light. Segundo’s long wait was not wasted time; it was the preparation that gave depth to his art. His songs, born from decades of living, carried a richness and wisdom that could not have been forged in haste.

History itself offers mirrors of his truth. Leonardo da Vinci labored for years before unveiling works that would outlast centuries. Vincent van Gogh painted in obscurity, never tasting fame in his lifetime, yet his perseverance bore fruit for generations to come. Even Nelson Mandela, who spent twenty-seven years in prison, emerged not broken but tempered, ready to lead with strength. In each case, the “overnight success” was an illusion; behind it lay long seasons of endurance.

Compay Segundo’s words also carry defiance: “And now I’m just beginning, never ending.” Here speaks the soul of the artist, who refuses to believe that age or delay has diminished his purpose. On the contrary, his journey gave him a fire that could not be extinguished. His voice declares that life’s calling has no final hour—so long as the heart still beats and the song is still within, one may begin anew. This is a heroic lesson, urging us never to believe it is too late to achieve or to create.

The lesson for us is plain: do not envy the overnight star, but honor the long road. Value patience as much as passion, and remember that the journey shapes you as much as the destination. If you find yourself waiting, working, laboring unseen, take heart—for these seasons are not empty, but are planting the roots of strength and depth. When the moment of recognition comes, it will be all the richer for the years that prepared it.

Practically, this means embracing perseverance in our own lives. Whatever your art, your craft, your labor—keep walking the roads, keep lifting your voice, keep offering your work even when the world does not yet applaud. Measure not your worth by the speed of recognition, but by the faithfulness of your effort. For the fruit of patience is not only success, but wisdom, character, and endurance that will sustain you when success finally comes.

Thus, Compay Segundo’s words shine like a melody for all generations: greatness does not come in an instant; it is born of years, of travels, of countless songs. And when at last it arrives, you may say with him: “I am just beginning, never ending.” For the true star is not the one who burns brightest for a moment, but the one whose light endures beyond the span of their days.