Growth Always Asks Something Of Us
The cost of showing up
One of the things I hear most often from white people is a desire to do something.
What should I read? What should I do? How do I help? They are good questions. But underneath them is another question we don’t ask very often:
What am I willing to give?
Most forms of growth require some kind of investment. We understand this in nearly every area of life. We don’t expect to get physically healthy without giving time to exercise. We don’t expect to become experts in our profession without years of learning and practice. We don’t expect to build strong relationships without investing time, attention, and care. We don’t expect to become financially secure without planning, discipline, and sacrifice. We don’t expect to master a craft without practice, feedback, and persistence.
Growth costs something. Yet when it comes to racial growth, many white people seem surprised by the cost. We often approach this work hoping it can fit conveniently into our lives. We want a book recommendation, a podcast episode, or a documentary that will help us understand what we need to understand so we can move on to the next thing. We want awareness without disruption.
But meaningful growth rarely works that way.
If white people are going to prepare for the world of 2045, we will need to take responsibility for our own development. We cannot expect people of color to carry the burden of our education. We cannot expect understanding to simply appear because we have good intentions. Like every other important area of growth, this one requires investment.
The first cost is time. Many of us have spent years learning our professions, studying our hobbies, deepening our faith, or following things that interest us. We have devoted thousands of hours to becoming the people we want to be. Yet when it comes to understanding race, culture, and the systems that have shaped our society, we often expect a shortcut.
There isn’t one. Understanding takes time. Listening takes time. Building relationships takes time. Learning histories that many of us were never taught takes time. None of this is unusual. It is simply how growth works.
The second cost is money. This may feel uncomfortable to say, but we spend money on the things we value.
We pay for gym memberships because health matters. We pay for conferences because professional growth matters. We pay for therapy because emotional health matters. We buy books, take classes, hire coaches, and invest in experiences that help us become who we want to be.
If becoming culturally mature matters, then it should not surprise us that it may cost money as well.
Money has a way of revealing what we truly value. Most of us can point to things we willingly spend money on because they matter to us—club sports for our kids, a new kitchen, concert tickets, streaming subscriptions, weekend getaways, charitable causes, or saving for retirement. None of those things are wrong. But if we believe preparing for a diverse and equitable future matters, then it is worth asking whether any of our resources are directed toward that future as well. Supporting local entrepreneurs, funding educational opportunities, investing in community organizations, or helping expand opportunities for others are all ways our financial choices can begin to reflect our stated values.
But the deepest cost is neither time nor money.
The deepest cost is identity.
Most white people I know think of themselves as good people. I certainly do. We try to be fair. We try to treat people well. We try to live according to our values. The challenge is that growth often asks us to question stories we have long believed about ourselves.
We may discover that our understanding of history was incomplete. We may learn that opportunities we assumed were simply the result of hard work were also influenced by systems that benefited some groups more than others. We may realize that experiences we considered universal were actually shaped by culture.
None of this makes us bad people. But it can make us uncomfortable people. And discomfort is often the price of growth.
In some ways, racial development asks white people to let go of a simpler version of ourselves. It asks us to move beyond the idea that being a good person is enough. It invites us to become more curious, more aware, and more willing to see ourselves as participants in a much larger story.
That process can feel costly because it is. But every meaningful transformation costs something.
The question is not whether growth will require an investment. The question is whether we believe the investment is worth making.