I’ll Burn That Bridge When I Get There: Choosing to Speak Up
Originally published here on June 1st 2025
One of my best friends has a fun habit of combining idioms, such as “you can bring a horse an apple a day but you can’t make them eat it” or “you opened your can of worms, now lie in it.” When they combined “I’ll cross that bridge when I get there” and “don’t burn your bridges” into “I’ll burn that bridge when I get there” it became my new favorite phrase.
This phrase has elicited two main reactions from people - an instant “yes! I love this and needed to hear this!” and a less enthusiastic “are you sure that isn’t abrasive or giving the wrong impression?” Just to be clear it's not about being confrontational, controversial, or trying to get negative attention. I do not mean to take joy in lighting the world on fire regardless of who gets burned. I think it is very important for everyone to carefully consider what they say about others – there is no need to perpetuate harm through bullying or assuming the worst intentions about someone else. What this phrase means to me is making the decision to be honest, to say the hard thing, to stand up for yourself or for others, with the understanding that there likely will be consequences for doing so. Those consequences will be the potential burning of a bridge.
Especially in a small field when the job market is tight, many may not feel safe sharing their thoughts or experiences. Maybe I am “fortunate” that having a progressive disability means my GC career shelf-life may be shorter than others and so I feel more freedom to “burn bridges.” With an energy disorder, I have made the decision that I just don’t have the “spoons” left to not talk about uncomfortable topics. Not everyone feels comfortable making the decision I have - but I’d argue more of us should highly consider it.
Often advocacy work isn't pleasant or easy. To quote Alice Wong, the disability community often says that our very existence is resistance. Minority groups are often told that we have to sugarcoat what we say and sandwich critiques within compliments to get any sort of progress. That if we're too honest or blunt what we say will not be heard because people’s negative reactions will invalidate our message. But sometimes there is no way to sugarcoat what you're trying to say, or sometimes you just don't want to put in the emotional labor to protect those around you from the disability equivalent of white tears. We need all types of voices and varied approaches in advocacy work.
I also want to acknowledge that sometimes people do make that decision to do something for the point of stirring the pot. So many Disability and LGBT rights movements involve protests designed to get a reaction. I have rarely made the decision to purposely say something for the main purpose of getting a reaction from others, but I also want to say that that's not an invalid decision. To say the controversial thing, to try and make people think by a large obvious act, like crawling up the Capitol steps, is a valid decision too.
I am not going to claim that I always speak up in the best possible way and that I don’t feel nervous when I speak/post. If we are growing as people, then it is guaranteed that one day we will look back at what we’ve previously said or done and think of ways that we could have handled the situation better. I may regret things that I said, or at least how I said them, but I hope to never regret the intentions behind them. I truly agree with Maria Ressa when she says "Silence is complicity because silence is consent."
At the end of the day, whenever I post about this topic or post a piece that could be viewed as critical - I get dozens of messages thanking me for voicing their same emotions, thoughts, and concerns they didn’t feel safe doing so themselves and that makes it worth it. I hear from GCs who are debating the decision to speak up, who are considering leaving the field that they used to love but now feel disillusioned with, who are scared to “burn bridges” when sharing their similar experiences. This isn’t unique to the GC field or healthcare in general, but we have created a culture that has shattered expectations for what it’d be like to be a part of our field. I’m not willing to accept that those providing this feedback simply had unrealistic expectations or were too idealistic/naive. I am choosing to believe that we can create a field where we can walk the walk and not just talk the talk.
I'll burn that bridge when I get there, is a life philosophy of using the privilege that you have to say things the others may not want, or be ready, to hear. It is about accepting the consequences of doing so, so that others who may not share those same privileges can be heard and validated, with the hope that a situation can improve for others. It's about being the first one to walk down a hard path with the goal that your words will make the path easier for others to walk in the future.
With the political climate we are in where simply being involved in any DEIJ effort can make you an actual target for state and federal laws, now more than ever it is an immense decision to decide what to do and say. I do hope that those who feel safe doing so will continue to embrace the often uncomfortable nature of speaking up and that we will all take a moment to reflect and check our gut reaction when we’re tempted to believe the label of someone being a “troublemaker,” being “unprofessional,” or, even more simply, before we let someone’s tone or abrasive words change how we react to their truth they’re trying to share. You shouldn’t have to word things perfectly to be heard.
So when I say “I will burn that bridge when I get there,” what I mean is – I vow to make the conscious choice to speak up for causes that matter, to prioritize using the privileges I do have to amplify the voices of others, to not let the theoretical risk of a future job stop me from providing feedback now, and to be honest to others about a situation that has hurt myself or individuals that I care about.