[Belonging] The Act of Being a Black Man


By Jeff Kangar

Belonging, the way I see it, is accountability in motion. It is not about being accepted — it is about holding yourself accountable through the becoming process. Even with the odds stacked against you, this is how you evolve: not reactively, but strategically. Not just to survive, but to stay relevant in a world that would rather ignore your presence.

We have all heard it: as a Black man, you have to work twice as hard. And it is true. But working twice as hard does not mean trying to become indispensable. It means growing with intention. Improving yourself. Refining your skillset. Building credibility — not because they demand it, but because you understand the stakes.

I am introverted by nature. I do not chase attention. But I also know that in today’s professional world, silence gets mistaken for disinterest, and isolation can be a career-limiting move. So I push myself to step out of my shell. To build relationships. To be visible across teams, departments, and communities that do not always look like me. It is not easy — it is a continuous area of growth — but it is necessary.

A Moment That Taught Me What Belonging Really Means

I remember a time when I was working at a consulting firm. I had done everything right — managed my team with care, delivered beyond expectations, and met every metric tied to promotion. I was told: once you meet these criteria, the promotion to Senior Manager is yours. I met them. But the promotion never came.

When I asked why, I was told the timing was not right. No critique. No feedback. Just timing.

I was frustrated. But I did not let it define me. Instead, I took action. I sat down with a few senior managers I respected, asked hard questions, and listened. I studied the steps they took to move forward. Then I identified the gap in my own career — not because I was not enough, but because I refused to be overlooked again.

So I made myself undeniable. I earned certifications. Took on high-impact, visible business development work. Positioned myself as someone who did not just lead, but moved things. That work opened the door to my next opportunity, where I stepped into a senior leadership role at a new company.

But I did not just walk out and leave. I made sure my team was set up to win. The highest performer on my team? I shared everything I knew with him. Held him accountable. Helped him prepare to move into the manager role I once held. That is what belonging means, too. Not just proving you qualify, but leaving a path behind so someone else can rise after you.

What Belonging Really Means

I seek constructive criticism — not because I am trying to prove I belong, but because I know I belong. And I want my work to reflect that.

I do not ignore the disparities. I do not pretend the playing field is level. But I also refuse to let that be the full story. Knowledge. Adaptability. Accountability. When those are sharpened, no one can deny your presence.

This is not about ignoring injustice. It is about building muscle through discipline and self-respect — because those muscles will carry the next generation.

Sacrifice is necessary. And it is not always the grand kind. Sometimes it is showing up when you are tired. Sometimes it is speaking when you would rather stay silent. Sometimes it is extending your hand when no one extended theirs to you. Because someone is watching. And one day, they will say: if Jeff did it, I can do it too.

Belonging is not just a feeling. It is a decision. A decision to show up. A decision to build. A decision to grow strategically in the face of resistance.

I may not belong everywhere. But I know I belong to this purpose. And that is enough to keep me moving.