Freedom’s Purpose: Extending Liberation Beyond the Self
Created at: August 10, 2025

The function of freedom is to free someone else. — Toni Morrison
From Personal Liberty to Shared Duty
At its core, Morrison’s line reframes freedom from a private possession into a public practice. In her Nobel Lecture (1993), she argued that language and liberty are measured by what they enable in others, not merely by what they secure for the self. Thus, freedom becomes a verb: a continual effort to remove barriers so that someone else can act, speak, and flourish. This turns autonomy into stewardship, insisting that liberation proves itself by multiplication. Consequently, the ethical question shifts from ‘What am I free to do?’ to ‘Whose freedom can I help unlock today?’
Echoes from Abolition to Civil Rights
Historically, this ethic animates movements where the liberated risk their safety to widen the circle. Frederick Douglass’s 1852 oration exposed the hypocrisy of a nation celebrating liberty while denying it to millions; his own freedom obligated him to speak for the enslaved. Harriet Tubman, after her escape in 1849, repeatedly returned to guide others north, treating survival as a platform for emancipation. Later, Ella Baker’s organizing with SNCC (1960s) advanced the principle that power belongs in communities, not personalities. In each case, individual freedom fulfilled its purpose only when it seeded collective capacity.
Morrison’s Novels as Blueprints for Liberation
Turning to Morrison’s fiction, liberation is communal, embodied, and often mediated through story. In Beloved (1987), Baby Suggs’s gatherings in the clearing enact a shared healing where memory becomes a resource for future freedom. Likewise, Song of Solomon (1977) links personal flight to recovered lineage, suggesting that identity reclaimed together generates the lift required for departure. Even Sula (1973) wrestles with the cost of radical individuality, ultimately revealing that community must metabolize risk to evolve. Across these narratives, the freed character is rarely the endpoint; rather, their transformation catalyzes others.
Building the Structures That Share Freedom
Consequently, freedom’s function requires infrastructure: laws, institutions, and material supports that distribute agency. The Voting Rights Act (1965) did not merely protect individual ballots; it constructed conditions where communities could shape policy. Public libraries—scaled by Andrew Carnegie’s philanthropy (1883–1929)—made literacy and knowledge broadly accessible, converting curiosity into opportunity. Yet history also shows how policy can gatekeep freedom: the GI Bill (1944) uplifted many veterans while discriminatory implementation and redlining excluded countless Black families. Thus, to free someone else, we must redesign systems so that access is not episodic charity but durable architecture.
Education, Mentorship, and Multiplying Agency
In practical terms, education and mentorship are engines that convert one person’s freedom into many. Paulo Freire’s Pedagogy of the Oppressed (1970) described education as the practice of freedom, a dialogic process that creates co-authors of change. Consider Thurgood Marshall’s mentorship of Constance Baker Motley; she became a key strategist in Brown v. Board of Education (1954) and, in 1966, the first Black woman appointed to the federal judiciary—proof that access passed forward compounds power. When knowledge, networks, and confidence are deliberately transferred, freedom acquires velocity.
Beyond Symbolism: Practicing Solidarity, Not Charity
Yet Morrison’s imperative resists performative gestures that center the helper. As organizer Mariame Kaba writes in We Do This ’Til We Free Us (2021), solidarity changes conditions, whereas charity often reaffirms hierarchy. Effective freedom-work shifts resources and risk: bail funds that reunite families, legal clinics that expunge records, worker councils that set safer standards. By relocating decision-making to those most affected, solidarity treats people not as beneficiaries but as authors. In this way, the freed do not stand apart; they stand with, and power circulates.
A Freedom That Scales Across Networks and Borders
Meanwhile, digital and transnational movements show how freedom’s function scales when voices amplify one another. Tarana Burke’s MeToo (coined 2006) became a global reckoning in 2017 as survivors, empowered by others’ testimonies, found language and leverage. Similarly, #EndSARS protests in Nigeria (2020) used online coordination to support on-the-ground mutual aid, legal defense, and medical care. Still, technology is only a conduit; the ethic remains Morrison’s: use whatever access you have—platforms, safety, anonymity—to widen the pathway for those who do not yet have it.
Counting What Counts: Freedom’s Multipliers
Ultimately, we should evaluate freedom by its multipliers: ballots actually cast, records cleared, apprenticeships opened, shelters funded, books uncensored, and time returned to caregivers. These are the tangible proofs that one person’s margin of safety became someone else’s starting line. When successes are measured by how many others can now act without permission or fear, Morrison’s standard is met. The work, then, is iterative: free one, who frees another, until liberation ceases to be a story of exceptional escape and becomes the ordinary condition of public life.