Balm and a Bullhorn: Willie Greene on Being Right on Time and Building the Space He Needed

Balm and a Bullhorn: Willie Greene on Being Right on Time and Building the Space He Needed

Willie Greene didn’t wait to be seen. He made a space where visibility wasn’t conditional. What began as a Tumblr page created by a 14-year-old in North Carolina has grown into We The Urban, a global platform for truth, emotional clarity, and cultural healing. In this profile, Greene reflects on identity, timing, and what it means to hold space for yourself, for others, even when the world doesn’t offer it willingly.

What do you do when the world won't offer you space? If you're anything like Willie Greene, you don't wait for space. You take it. 

At 14, growing up Black, gay, and creative in North Carolina in the late 90s and early 00s,Willie Greene launched a Tumblr page called We The Urban. He didn't have a blueprint, just an instinct and a deep need to reflect the culture he loved, speak the truths he couldn't find elsewhere, and create a sense of belonging that the world hadn't yet handed him. "I was just trying to lean into my love of pop culture and the arts," he says. "And find somewhere I could belong." What began as a personal outlet became a syndicated print magazine, then a global platform. One post. One quote. One truth at a time.



"I've always known I was destined for something big," he says. "I didn't know what it would look like, or how it would unfold, but that feeling was always there." Growing up during that era meant subconsciously rebelling against the erasure and limitations placed on young Black gay kids. In a country that often tries to erase kids like him, Greene built something that could not be ignored. And the more he leaned into his own truth, the more people connected. "The words that healed me started healing others." With over seven million followers on Instagram alone, it's safe to say We The Urban has become something big.

That commitment to truth, to timing, to emotional clarity is what still fuels We The Urban today. In its early days, the platform was fashion-focused: culture, aesthetic, fantasy. But as the world shifted, Greene listened. "Especially post-2016, people weren't just craving beauty," he says. "They were craving truth." The Me Too movement, rising political consciousness on social media, cultural upheaval-all of it demanded something deeper. By 2020, that shift was undeniable. During the first lockdown, We The Urban became a safe space for emotional intelligence, healing, empowerment, and cultural truth-telling.



"What's stayed the same is the heart," he says. "The intention to make people feel seen. But now, it's less about the performance of perfection and more about giving people permission to be human." In the early days, that visibility often came dressed in aesthetics—style, fashion, aspiration. But as the platform evolved, so did Greene’s understanding of what it meant to see someone. It wasn’t about just projecting an ideal. It was about reflecting realness, even when it’s messy, uncertain, or raw. We The Urban began holding space for people not just to be inspired, but to be honest with their grief, their joy, their contradictions. That shift, from surface to substance, from polish to presence, marked a turning point. People don’t come to We The Urban to be dazzled by perfection they come to feel less alone. Not because they’re flawless, but because they’re human. That seems to have always been the point.

That humanity is what makes We The Urban feel necessary. Not just during global crises, but in the quiet, everyday ache for something real. "This isn't just about going viral," Greene says. "It's about building trust. So, when those big cultural shifts happen, the community already knows this is a space where they can land."



Healing, for Greene, isn't a buzzword, it's not a quick fix to an overactive vagus nerve or unharmonized chakras or whatever is lighting up "Health-Tok." It's a personal, ongoing act. His words may reach millions, but they always begin in a quieter place: with himself. "To me, healing means returning to yourself, over and over again," he says. "Every quote I've shared was something I needed to hear first. It's given me a language for my growth, and a community to grow alongside."

His approach rejects urgency culture. Instead, he honors the process. "There's so much pressure to rush, to force, to constantly produce," he says. "But the most meaningful things I've created came when I surrendered to the flow. Being right on time isn't about hitting someone else's deadline, it's about trusting your own rhythm."

It's also about knowing that not all timelines are visible. "You are not behind. You are becoming," Greene says, a message he recently needed to hear himself, and now offers to anyone feeling stuck. "The timeline in your head isn't the truth. Be gentle with yourself."



That gentleness extends to the way We The Urban shows up during charged cultural moments. On election night in 2024, Greene didn't post to shout angrily into the void. He posted to soothe. "When the world breaks open, people don't want platitudes," he says. "They want something that names what they're feeling and helps them breathe through it."

That instinct to name the pain, to hold space rather than fill it, to bear witness rather than rush to heal, comes from experience. For Greene, identity is the center. "My identity isn't just part of the work," he says. "It is the work." As a Black gay man, his lived experience shapes every word, every message, every quote that makes someone feel less alone. "There's power in millions of people relating to words born from someone who was never supposed to be centered."

That's why Pride, to him, is both celebration and resistance. "It started as a riot led by Black and Brown trans activists," Greene says, naming Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera among those who fought for visibility, safety, and the right to exist without apology. "That history matters." With the print magazine currently in early development stages, Greene is setting the stage to elevate even more Black and Brown LGBTQIA+ voices, those whose stories have long shaped the culture but rarely been centered in its pages.

We The Urban holds both softness and spine. It's a balm and a bullhorn. It speaks truth with care. Asked what he'd say to someone who feels unseen, Greene doesn't hesitate: "Whatever you do, don't shrink to fit the room. Find or build rooms where your whole self belongs. And until you do, know that your worth isn't determined by who chooses to see you."

And still, he adds, "Keep shining."



Photographer: Raul Romo

Capsule