Talking (As Usual) — But This Time It Made a Difference

Where do I even begin?

Today I was given the Spirit of Detroit Award for something I never expected anyone to notice, let alone recognize publicly. I saw something that wasn’t right, and I opened my mouth— the same way I always have. That’s it.

But apparently, sometimes opening your mouth at the right moment can change more than you realize.

How It Started (aka: me minding my business… kind of)

I was at work one day when a friend of Councilwoman Mary Waters walked in. He mentioned he was waiting for her because she was working on the city budget.

And, in true Cierra fashion, I immediately asked:
“What city?”

When he said “Detroit,” my brain didn’t even hesitate.

“So what do we have to do to get the fire department some new mattresses?”

Because here’s the thing: Detroit firefighters spend at least two 24-hour shifts a week living at the station—not including overtime. And some of the stuff they see? The trauma, the exhaustion, the things they never talk about unless it’s 3am and they trust you enough to say it out loud…
Yeah. The very least they deserve is a bed that actually helps them rest and recover when they’re able to.

The only reason I even knew how bad the situation was… was because of my boyfriend at the time and my cousin—both Detroit firefighters.

Councilwoman Waters Actually Came In

A little while later, Councilwoman Mary Waters walked into my job and said she wanted to talk.

I explained the whole situation—how my boyfriend at the time told me some of the mattresses were so old that a few were literally bought by firefighters’ dads back when they were on the job. She asked if it was every station, how many mattresses, which houses… I didn’t have exact numbers, but she listened.

She didn’t promise me anything, didn’t give me a fake “we’ll see,” didn’t placate me.
She just said she’d look into it. And that alone meant something to me.

Then… a month or two later

I’m at work again, and one of my coworkers walks up to me like:

“Hey, the guy who comes in after the gym came in a week or so ago and said to tell you the mattresses made it into the budget.”

I swear I just froze for a second.

Because that meant someone actually listened.
Someone actually cared.
And something was actually going to change.

The first person I called was my boyfriend at the time because he was the entire reason I knew about the issue. Then I called my cousin, who I kept this from because he’s always like,

“Stop, Cierra. You don’t have to speak up about everything.”

But listen… I’ve been this way since I was a kid. If something isn’t right, I’m saying something. I can’t help it. It’s who I am.

When I told him the fire department was getting all new mattresses, he goes,
“That’s awesome. How do you know?”
So I finally told him what I’d done a month or two earlier.

He laughed, said thank you, and told me he was proud of me. But honestly? I’m the one who is proud of him.

So why an award?

Honestly? I still don’t think what I did was “award-worthy.”

I didn’t organize a fundraiser.
I didn’t run a campaign.
I didn’t do anything groundbreaking.

I opened my mouth at the right time, to the right person, for the right reason. And if you know me… you know I talk a lot. I can’t help it.

But if speaking up in that moment helps even one firefighter sleep and recover better while they’re on the job, then I’m glad I was there. I was simply in the right place at the right time, and I said something when the opportunity showed up. I’m glad I opened my mouth. And I’m grateful that one impromptu conversation was enough to bring attention to something that actually needed it.

And that’s the whole story.

People assume awards come from big acts, major achievements, or years of work. But sometimes they come from paying attention, caring enough to speak up, and refusing to ignore something once you know it’s wrong.

I didn’t do this for recognition.
I didn’t do this to be “involved.”
I did it because the firefighters I care about — and even the ones I’ve never met — deserve basic comfort while they’re out protecting the rest of us.

And if that makes me “award-worthy,” then fine. But really? I just did what I’ve always done.

I’ve always been a talker — that’s nothing new. I was just in the right place at the right time, and this time it happened to be about something that actually needed attention.