By Rodney LaBruce

"It’s all right to tell a man to lift himself by his own bootstraps, but it is a cruel jest to say to a bootless man that he ought to lift himself by his own bootstraps."
— Martin Luther King Jr.

We’ve all heard the story: If you come to America tired, hungry, and ready to work hard, success is inevitable. It’s the classic immigrant tale—the American Dream. Pull yourself up by your bootstraps, and you’ll eventually reach the promised land of prosperity.

But let’s be honest: that story is more myth than reality.

The idea that success is earned solely through hard work is comforting. It gives us hope that success is available to anyone. But it also allows us to ignore an uncomfortable truth: hard work alone isn’t enough. Success doesn’t just come from hustle—it comes from help.

Look closely at who actually becomes successful in this country. Time and again, it’s those who start with access to resources:

• Wealth passed down through generations
• Networks that open doors to opportunity
• Quality education, often tied to zip code rather than merit
• Safety nets like family support, health insurance, or access to emergency funds

People who succeed usually do so not just because they worked hard, but because they had access to support: a community, a program, a mentor, or a moment of grace that helped shift their path. And when people don’t succeed, it’s not necessarily because they didn’t try hard enough. It’s often because the system wasn’t designed to help them rise.

This isn’t to diminish the value of hard work. It matters. It builds character, discipline, and resilience. But if we keep telling people that all they need to do is grind harder—while denying them access to capital, healthcare, education, or housing—we’re setting them up for frustration, not fulfillment.

The American Dream shouldn’t be a prize reserved for the privileged. It needs to be rebuilt on a foundation of equity, access, and opportunity.

So, let’s retire the myth of the hustle and start telling the truth: real success is collective. It takes a society that helps people thrive, not just survive.

Consider the difference between someone who graduates from college debt-free because of family support, and someone who finishes school $60,000 in debt with no safety net. Both may work just as hard, but one is running a smooth track while the other is climbing a hill with a weight strapped to their back. The finish line may be the same, but the path certainly isn’t.

We also need to understand how wealth is truly created in America. It’s not just about income—it’s about ownership. People who own land, businesses, stocks, or intellectual property accumulate wealth far faster than those who live paycheck to paycheck. Historically, these paths to wealth have been blocked off for Black Americans, Indigenous communities, and other marginalized groups through redlining, discriminatory lending, and outright violence.

Government policy has also played a major role. Take the Homestead Act of 1862. This federal law gave 160 acres of public land to applicants who would live on and cultivate it. Millions of white Americans benefited, building wealth that would be passed down through generations. Today, it’s estimated that 46 million Americans—about a quarter of the non-Hispanic White U.S. population—descend from homesteaders.

Technically, the Homestead Act was open to all citizens or intended citizens, including newly freed Black Americans. But in practice, Black people were largely excluded due to:

• Pre-Emancipation barriers: The Act passed during the Civil War, before slavery ended in 1865, making enslaved people ineligible.
• Post-Emancipation obstacles: Discriminatory practices from local officials, lack of financial resources, and violent intimidation from white settlers often blocked Black families from acquiring and keeping land.

While white families built generational wealth through government-backed land ownership, Black Americans were left behind.

This legacy of inequality is still felt today, even among entrepreneurs. For example, the combined annual revenue of the top 100 Black-owned businesses is around $30 billion. In comparison, Walmart alone brought in approximately $400 billion in one year. Nike made over $36 billion. This isn’t just because there are fewer Black entrepreneurs—it’s about systemic barriers that limit growth and opportunity.

Among those barriers:

• Access to capital: In 2024, Black-owned beauty brands raised just $16 million—a steep drop from $73 million in 2022. Venture capital has grown more conservative, and support has declined.
• Scaling challenges: Without capital, it’s difficult to grow, hire, or expand.
• Market access: Securing shelf space and consumer visibility remains a major hurdle for Black-owned brands.
• Structural inequality: Generations of blocked access to wealth, credit, and ownership have long-lasting effects.
• Reduced support: Some major corporations have scaled back or dropped grants for minority-owned businesses, citing legal or political pressures.

The myth of individual success ignores the racially targeted systems of support that enabled many white families and businesses to thrive.

And let’s talk about social capital. If your cousin can get you an internship, your neighbor can refer you for a contract, or your parents can connect you to a mentor—you advance faster. These are invisible advantages, often overlooked when we celebrate "self-made" success.

This isn’t about hustle. It’s about who gets seen, who gets trusted, and who gets supported.

We must also challenge the idea that help equals handouts. Help is infrastructure. It’s good schools, affordable childcare, accessible healthcare, and fair financial systems. When those structures are in place, effort matters. When they’re not, success is a lottery.

If we want a society where hard work truly pays off, we must level the field. That means targeted investments in marginalized communities, strong anti-discrimination policies, and bold reforms that expand opportunity for everyone.

Because here’s the truth: no one does it alone. Every successful person has a story filled with mentors, breaks, second chances, and access. It’s time we tell that story honestly. Not to discredit those who succeed, but to build a future where success is truly possible for everyone—not just the lucky few.