Support Is a Verb - Newsletter #46

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Warm air. A swirl of people, energy, and color.

I saw it glowing on the wall in soft neon, framed by a green living wall of ferns:

 Support is a verb.

It stopped me. Like, really stopped me.

We throw that word around a lot. Support. “I support women.” “I support small businesses.” “I support the community.”

But the truth is, support is not a feeling. It’s an action. It is something you do, not something you say.

When I think about support, I think about the moments no one sees. The late-night DMs checking in on a friend who seems quiet. The colleague who steps aside to make space for your idea. The person who buys from your shop, shares your post, or connects you to someone who can help. Support lives in those gestures. It is motion, not maintenance.

At its best, support is circular. It’s not charity, it’s community. It says: I see you. I believe in you. I’m here with you, not above you.

A few years ago, when I was going through a rough patch, I learned something about the word help. I have always been good at giving it, not so great at asking for it. There’s a quiet pride in being the strong one, the capable one. But I realized that refusing help is actually a form of disconnection. It cuts people off from the chance to show love, to act on care.

Support works both ways. Sometimes it’s stepping up. Sometimes it’s letting someone step in.

In my world of tech, community, and storytelling, I see “support” written into every tagline. We talk about empowering users, championing inclusion, building connection. And yet, real support still takes courage. It means listening when it would be easier to speak. It means sharing power, not hoarding it. It means showing up when no one is watching.

Support can be inconvenient. It can mean putting your name on the line for someone else’s idea. It can mean giving up credit. It can mean saying the hard thing in the room when silence feels safer.

And yet, those are the moments that change people’s lives.

I think about my own village often. The people who saw something in me before I did. The mentors who took the time to listen. The friends who said, “You’re not crazy. Keep going.” They didn’t just tell me they supported me. They showed up. They stood beside me when I stumbled. They reminded me that I didn’t have to go it alone.

That’s what I mean when I say support is a verb. It’s not a statement, it’s a stance. It’s not about perfection. It’s about participation.

Here’s what I know for sure: We are all carrying something. And yet, we are also all capable of lightening the load for someone else. That’s the secret of true community.

Buy from the artist friend. Show up to the local event. Mentor the new hire. Speak someone’s name in a room full of opportunity. Send the message. Make the call.

Support doesn’t need to be loud or public. It just needs to be consistent.

The kind that says: I see you. I’ve got you. You belong here.

As I stood in front of that neon sign in Atlanta, I thought about the people who have held me up. My village. My community. The ones who remind me that showing up for each other is not a task, it’s a practice.

If support is a verb, then love is the language. And I’m fluent, still learning, still grateful.

Who’s someone who’s shown up for you lately? Tag them. Tell them. Let’s make support visible.

Be the hype crew!

Because words are powerful, but action — action is what changes everything.

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