Image credits: Three Lions/Stringer, William Lovelace/Stringer, Gideon Mendel, Chris Jackson, Alex Wong, Sherman Sham, Rick Diamond via Getty Images for Editorial Use
Last week, we remembered and celebrated two extraordinary leaders whose legacies remind us of the high price of freedom and justice: Nelson Mandela, born July 18, and Congressman John Lewis, who passed away five years ago on July 17. As we reflect on the life and legacy of these two giants in the fight for equality and human dignity, it is a stark reminder that throughout history, there have been those willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom. Mandela and Lewis epitomize such sacrifices. It begs the question: What sacrifices are we willing to make today, as powerful forces attempt to return us to a world where inhumanity and injustice are not only tolerated, but legislated— especially against marginalized communities?
What sacrifices are we willing to make today, as powerful forces attempt to return us to a world where inhumanity and injustice are not only tolerated, but legislated— especially against marginalized communities?
Although Mandela and Lewis lived worlds apart, their lives were bound by a common vision: a world that prioritized equality, human dignity, and justice; they were both willing to sacrifice their lives and comfort in that pursuit.
Mandela spent 27 grueling years behind bars in South Africa, imprisoned at age 45 to a life sentence by an apartheid regime for his protests against segregation and inhumane treatment of the majority population—Black South Africans. He endured harsh conditions meant to break his body and spirit. On Robben Island, he was confined to a small, damp cell with no bed or plumbing, forced to do backbreaking labor in a lime quarry, and denied proper medical care. Despite it all, he emerged victorious—a pivotal figure in ending apartheid in South Africa.
Lewis was just 25 years old when he crossed the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, Alabama for the first time. He was beaten so badly by state troopers that he nearly died. He was arrested over 40 times as he fought to end inequality in the United States. John Lewis went on to serve 34 years in the U.S. House of Representatives. He earned the nickname “Conscience of the Congress” because of his moral clarity and courage in standing up, often alone, against injustice. He called it “Good trouble, necessary trouble.”
Today, as we reflect on their lives, in this moment in our history, there are some lessons that can serve as hope that in the end, freedom and justice will prevail. Mandela and Lewis teach us that freedom is not a moment; it is a lifelong struggle. They remind us that progress is often slow, nonlinear and intensely resisted. Neither of them lived to see all the justice they dreamed of, but they never stopped believing it was possible. Perhaps their hope was not rooted in the outcomes, but in the belief that every step taken in the direction of justice matters.
We must never stop believing that justice is possible, even though in this present moment, it may seem like all hope is lost. We cannot give up because it is hard. The path is long but as another civil rights icon Martin Luther King, Jr. said, “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice.” Nelson Mandela said: “To be free is not merely to cast off one’s chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others.”
So let us not give up. Let’s keep the full court press on. We don’t have to make the kind of sacrifices of Mandela or Lewis to have an impact. At the very least we can:
- Speak up – Silence can be a form of complicity. Speaking up isn’t always easy; it can bring discomfort, criticism, and real consequences. But courage often requires risk, and each of us must decide what that looks like in our own lives.
At The Winters Group, we’ve made the decision to move forward with our 2026 Justice for All Summit, even as we face diminishing sponsor support and growing backlash for addressing issues some now label as “divisive” or “polarizing.” I was recently called a “race-hustling consultant” by a conservative outlet for coining the term Black Fatigue in my book Black Fatigue: How Racism Erodes the Mind, Body and Spirit and challenging the way its meaning has recently been weaponized and demonized in social media posts. I write about the exhaustion many Black people experience navigating systemic racism has, in some circles, been appropriated and twisted to center the discomfort of white people instead. But we cannot let fear silence the truth. We must continue to speak with clarity and conviction, because justice depends on it.
- Stay informed – Support independent, fact-based journalism. For example: Protest the defunding of NPR and PBS, and contribute monetarily to these types of outlets as you are able.
- Engage civically – Vote. Organize. Attend local meetings. I know that it can get exhausting, so also set your boundaries and exercise self-care.
- Build bridges – Have hard conversations, especially across lines of difference. My books We Can’t Talk About at That at Work and Inclusive Conversations can be helpful, as well as The Winters Group’s Bold, Inclusive Conversations® certification program.
- See the humanity – Behind every policy, there’s a person. Choose empathy and compassion rather than apathy and indifference.
Justice has many names. Is yours one of them?
About the Author
Mary-Frances Winters, founder and CEO of The Winters Group, Inc. is a master strategist with over 40 years experience in strategic planning, change management, diversity, organization development, training and facilitation, systems thinking and qualitative and quantitative research methods. She has extensive experience in working with senior leadership teams to drive organizational change. Described by clients as highly creative, collaborative, visionary and results oriented, she is a sought after keynote speaker and workshop leader.

