Courage comes from the Latin word “cor” — the heart. To act courageously is to live and move from the heart. Too often, we associate courage with spectacle, the protest march, the whistleblower, the public stand. These are real and necessary acts of courage, whether in Nepal’s Gen Z uprising for justice or tireless activists like Greta Thunberg who’ve recently been detained by Israeli authorities while on the Global Sumud Flotilla. Courage is at its most contagious when shared, relational, and in pursuit of a collective good.
But sometimes courage comes calmly. Non-violently. As Desmond Tutu, Nobel Peace Prize laureate and moral compass of South Africa’s anti-apartheid struggle, taught through his lifelong insistence on justice with compassion, courage can take the shape of joy, moral clarity, and forgiveness in the face of systemic violence.
We spoke with Omek community member, author, and TEDx speaker Christopher O.H. Williams in anticipation of his forthcoming book, C.O.U.R.A.G.E.: 7 Choices for Living a Life Without Regret, about how courage can be cultivated in our daily lives.
Born in Sierra Leone, he attended university in the United States and now lives in the Netherlands, which has been his home for the past two years. He’s studied, lived, and worked in 13 cities across four continents, following his appetite for meeting the unknown, whether through food, art markets, or people.
A former Fortune 500 executive and global business leader, Christopher draws on decades of experience guiding teams, navigating complex organizations, and helping individuals unlock their potential. From leadership roles at Nike, adidas, and Gap to founding his own consultancy, Custament Partners, he has witnessed firsthand how courage manifests in professional and personal settings.
In conversation, Christopher reflected on the difference between risk, bravery, and courage:
“Courage, I’ve come to understand, is distinct from bravery. Bravery is often impulsive—jumping into action in the face of immediate danger, driven by adrenaline. Courage, on the other hand, is slower, intentional. It requires awareness of fear and risk, and the resolve to act anyway. It is measured, deliberate, and deeply tied to purpose.”
This distinction shaped his own journey. When asked about his first experience of courage, he went back to the years just before university.
“I had been studying the sciences,” he said, “because it was sort of a cool thing that smart kids did. But I didn’t really enjoy it. And I think that was the point where I realized that if I’m going to university, I don’t want to live like this because it’s the start of my life. You really are making a long-term decision here.”
So, at around 17 years old, he made what felt like a radical shift, away from science toward the arts and liberal sciences. “And that was crazy. In the context of the environment that I lived in, people were like, What are you doing?” he remembered. The decision meant repeating a year, a strange and stigmatized move for “one of the smartest kids around.”
Still, he chose it.
“That was the first time I really orchestrated what I thought was a courageous move — with all of the elements of social pressure — and still said, ‘Here’s where I want to go.’”
Later, when Christopher pursued his career in business, he tried his best to stay aligned, refusing to lock himself into a pre-defined narrow path and keep a sense of openness.
Too many of us move on autopilot (work, dinner, sleep, repeat) without pausing to ask, Who am I? What am I trying to do? What is uniquely mine to contribute?
To move out of autopilot takes courage.
“The process of courage is lifelong. You never get to a point and say, ‘I’m done.’ It’s not a straight line. It’s messy…sometimes you get them wrong. But if you think of courage as a pilgrimage, then the point isn’t to arrive at a final destination—it’s to keep walking, to keep practicing, to keep showing up in alignment with your heart.”
In this moment, this approach takes on new urgency. Institutions we once relied upon as anchors, like governments, media, and even communities, are fragmenting or being destabilized. Change is inevitable. The question becomes, how do we meet it?
The task is not to cling tighter, but to re-tether. To anchor ourselves not to institutions, but to ourselves and each other.
“My fundamental idea is that you need to be tethered to a deep sense of your own values and your own purpose … They become your core. And that’s why courage becomes really important. Because now you almost have to untether yourself from these structures and really go find something else.”
Here, Christopher’s reflections resonate with Vanessa Machado de Oliveira’s language to “outgrow modernity”, to release illusions of permanence, progress, and control. Outgrowing modernity means recognizing endings and fragmentation while cultivating the courage to remain present within uncertainty.
This is courage as care. One of the questions is not only what I stand for, but also who I am standing with?
And as he reminds us, this cannot wait, “We all can’t be playing around for the next decade until this thing settles and we say, oh wow, look where we end up. We owe it to ourselves to be a little bit more engaged and awake.”
This perspective sharpens when viewed through the lens of bicultural experience. To live biculturally is to constantly inhabit more than one world, often without full belonging in either. It means translating across contexts, discerning when to adapt and when to resist.
This process of knowing becomes a practice of courage in itself.
For those who grow up in monolithic communities, belonging may be assumed. But biculturals are forced to do the inner work of articulation of the what and the why. And in that process, Christopher sees both clarity and power.
“Most people in monolithic communities may never have to think about it. But if you’re bicultural, you do. And that can sharpen your clarity and sense of purpose. You come to understand the richness that lives within your veins, the history you carry, and the unique perspectives you bring. If you don’t do that work, you risk being buffeted around. But if you do, you unleash power—not power over others, but the power of knowing yourself and being an effective actor in a complex world. And by virtue of that very complexity, the world will need you more than ever.”
Navigating contradictions, articulating identity, and standing by self-defined claims build resilience and strength. Far from being a burden, biculturalism can offer a training ground for courage, a lived capacity to hold paradox and complexity without retreating into autopilot.
“When you’re bicultural, you cannot avoid the complexity you carry around. There’s the administrative dimension of your identity—your passport, your citizenship—and then there’s the dissonance, the part that people still question, ‘Where are you really from? Before that? Before the before?’ And so you have to ask yourself, who am I? What am I going to claim? I’m not saying everything you claim needs to be what other people dictate. You can choose not to. But you have to take the time to break it down for yourself, pick a spot, or pick a concept that you’re comfortable with. Because someone is going to challenge you, and you’d better know what you stand for.”
Courage extends beyond living authentically for ourselves. It shapes how we show up for others. How we respond to injustice and uncertainty. How we hold ourselves and each other in spaces for belonging. Especially now. Especially in this moment.
Bridging Worlds by Omek is a space for bold conversations on what it means to lead, build, and belong as bicultural professionals, entrepreneurs, and brands. Join the community and check our brand new job board!
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