James Baldwin was 24 when he realized he needed to save his own life.

He was working in New York City. Writing at night. His best friend had jumped from the George Washington Bridge two years earlier. He knew that he was next.

His mentor, Richard Wright, had already left for Paris. Told him: You can't write the truth about America while America is crushing you.

Baldwin had $40. Enough for a one-way ticket.

So he left in 1948.

In Paris, he could think. He could write. He could see what he couldn't see while inside the fire.

He wrote Go Tell It on the Mountain. Notes of a Native Son. Giovanni's Room.

Then he came back. Not because he failed. Because the work required it.

The Civil Rights Movement was building. He testified. Marched. Wrote. Spoke.

He understood: exile wasn't escape. 

You leave to become who you need to be. You come back to do what only you can do.

Image Credit: Collection of the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture