UBUNTU: I Am Because We Are

There’s a word I want to introduce you to—Ubuntu. You may have never heard it before, but once you understand it, it’s hard to forget. It comes from the Nguni Bantu languages in Southern Africa, and it translates to something simple but powerful: "I am because we are."

This isn’t just a proverb or a cultural phrase. Ubuntu is a worldview. A way of life. And for someone like me, who’s spent time behind prison walls, who’s done the hard work of rebuilding after trauma and incarceration, Ubuntu isn’t theory—it’s truth. It’s a principle that has the power to transform how we live, how we lead, and how we return to each other.

In the U.S., we’re taught to pursue independence. We glorify the self-made man. The grind. The hustle. Every system—from our economy to our justice system—runs on individualism. You win or lose on your own. But what if that’s not the best way forward? What if true strength isn’t found in how far we can rise alone—but how far we can go together?

Ubuntu flips the script. It tells us that our humanity is tied to each other. It says you can’t truly thrive while the people around you are suffering. That’s not weakness—it’s wisdom.

Archbishop Desmond Tutu described Ubuntu as: "My humanity is bound up in yours, for we can only be human together." And Nelson Mandela reminded us that Ubuntu doesn’t mean we don’t succeed individually, but that our success should also uplift those around us. That’s a shift. And in today’s fractured America—where loneliness, division, and disconnection are running high—we need that shift more than ever.

A 2023 U.S. Surgeon General report found that over 50% of adults feel chronically lonely, something I've discussed a few different times. That’s not a soft stat—that’s a national crisis. People impacted by incarceration, homelessness, or violence face even higher rates of isolation. According to the American Heart Association, this kind of loneliness increases risk of stroke and heart disease by 30%.

When I was incarcerated, I experienced a system built to disconnect. You lose your name. You lose your people. You’re reduced to a number. But even in those conditions, healing started when community entered the picture. Through programs I helped build like the Life Change Group, we created space for connection, growth, and accountability. That was Ubuntu. It showed up long before I had the word for it.

Now, in the reentry and recovery world, Ubuntu is showing up again—in restorative justice circles, trauma-informed care, and community-based reintegration programs. And these aren’t feel-good experiments. They work.

A Harvard Kennedy School study found that restorative justice programs rooted in Indigenous and African values—including Ubuntu—led to a 45% drop in recidivism. That’s nearly half. Another study by the International Institute for Restorative Practices followed a two-year Ubuntu-style program for returning citizens. The results? 60% improvement in employment retention and housing stability. Trust between participants increased dramatically—a factor proven to lower conflict and increase public safety.

By contrast, traditional systems don’t measure up. The U.S. Bureau of Justice Statistics shows that two-thirds of people released from prison are rearrested within three years. Over 75% within five. That’s not just failure—that’s policy malpractice.

Ubuntu doesn’t throw away accountability. It demands it. But it places it in a framework of belonging, not banishment. It centers healing—not just punishment.

This isn’t just theory—it’s playing out in cities like Detroit, Oakland, and Baltimore. In Detroit, community-led Ubuntu-style models dropped gun violence by 32%, according to the Urban Peace Institute. In schools that adopted Ubuntu-based social-emotional learning, academic performance rose by 27% and behavioral issues dropped by 22% (CASEL, 2021).

Health data backs it too. The World Health Organization says social cohesion is one of the strongest predictors of a community’s well-being—from addiction rates to life expectancy. When we build connection and shared responsibility, we build health. Ubuntu is health.

Even in trauma recovery, Ubuntu offers something clinical models often miss: trust. The Journal of Community Psychology (2020) showed that peer-led healing programs grounded in relationship had better long-term outcomes than traditional therapy alone. That means people stayed engaged, grew stronger, and stayed safer.

In American culture, we think healing is something we do alone. We’re told to tough it out. But the truth is—healing happens faster, deeper, and more permanently in relationship. Ubuntu names what’s already true: no one heals in a vacuum.

In 2022, Pew Research found that 64% of Americans now believe that public safety depends on strong social bonds—not just law enforcement. That’s Ubuntu breaking through.

A 2021 RAND Corporation study showed that cities investing in collective care—housing, education, and mental health—reduced crime by up to 40% over five years. That’s Ubuntu in policy.

When we say "I am because we are," we are claiming shared responsibility. We’re saying homelessness, incarceration, failing schools—those aren’t someone else’s problems. They’re ours. And if we want different results, we need different principles.

I’ve sat in rooms with men who’ve caused harm and with those who’ve been harmed. I’ve watched healing begin—not with revenge, but with story. With truth. With shared commitment to do better. That’s Ubuntu.

As we continue pushing for justice reform, let’s be clear: reform doesn’t mean tweaking a broken system. It means reimagining what accountability, care, and healing can look like.

This isn’t about replacing American values. Ubuntu says no one is expendable. That we don’t move forward unless we move forward together.

And in today’s fractured world—that might be the most revolutionary thing we can do.

I am, because we are.

—Troy Rienstra