What is your topic?
Earning my Ph.D. while building a career in leadership, education, entrepreneurship, and service, and learning that where I started did not have to determine where I would finish.
What was your life like BEFORE you addressed this issue in your life?
I grew up in Fayette, Mississippi, in poverty. I learned early what it meant to go without, but I also grew up surrounded by people who taught me that my circumstances did not have to become my identity. Still, when you grow up without seeing many examples of what is possible, it can be difficult to imagine yourself in certain rooms. Long before I earned a Ph.D., became an educator, built a business, or stepped onto stages as a speaker, I had to first learn to believe that a young Black boy from a small town in Mississippi could actually do those things.
What emotions were you feeling BEFORE you dealt with the issue?
There were moments of doubt, frustration, fear, and even exhaustion. I was ambitious, but ambition does not mean you never question yourself. There were times when I wondered whether I was taking on too much or whether some of the goals I had set for myself were simply too big. But there was always something inside me that refused to settle.
How was this issue affecting your life?
The biggest challenge was learning not to allow my beginning to place limits on my future. Sometimes we can accomplish a lot professionally and still carry old ideas about what we deserve or what is possible for us. I had to learn that I could honor where I came from without allowing where I came from to become a ceiling.
What primary strategy or practice did you implement to address the issue?
I became intentional about breaking large goals into smaller ones. I stopped looking at the entire mountain and started asking myself what I needed to accomplish that day. I protected time to read, research, write, and think. I asked for feedback. I accepted that every draft would not be perfect. Most importantly, I constantly reminded myself why I started.
My Ph.D. was never just about having another title behind my name. For me, it represented every child growing up in a small town who may not yet be able to see what is possible for their life.
Where did you hear about this strategy or practice?
Some of it came from education, mentors, and professional experience, but much of it came from my family and my upbringing.
My grandmother, the late Mary Coleman Malone, taught me a lesson long before I had language for it. When I was 16, she encouraged me to enter an essay contest that I might otherwise have ignored. I won, and the prize was a trip to Washington, D.C. That trip changed how I saw the world and how I saw myself. It taught me that sometimes transformation starts with simply saying yes to an opportunity.
Please provide our readers with the individual strategic steps you took.
First, be honest about what you want. Too many people build their lives around what other people believe they should do.
Second, understand your why. Goals become much harder to abandon when they are connected to something bigger than ego or recognition.
Third, break the goal into smaller actions. Stop obsessing over the finish line and determine what you can accomplish today.
Fourth, create structure. Put time on your calendar for the things you say are important to you.
Fifth, allow yourself to ask for help. Mentors, teachers, colleagues, friends, and family can see things in you that you sometimes cannot see in yourself.
Sixth, accept imperfect progress. You do not have to have everything figured out before you move.
Finally, remember where you came from, but never allow it to tell you how far you can go.
How long did it take before you saw or felt changes occurring?
The change was gradual. I did not wake up one morning suddenly believing I could accomplish anything. Every completed assignment, every professional opportunity, every speech, every class I taught, and every obstacle I survived became another piece of evidence that I was capable.
By the time I completed my doctorate, the degree represented much more than an academic accomplishment. It represented years of becoming the person I once had trouble imagining.
What challenges did you face along the way of your personal transformation?
Time was one of the biggest challenges. I was balancing demanding professional responsibilities while pursuing a doctorate and continuing other work that mattered to me. There were days when I was tired. There were setbacks. There were moments when life did not care about my schedule or my goals.
I also had to deal with my own expectations. I have always expected a lot from myself. Sometimes the challenge was understanding that slowing down did not mean quitting and that asking for help did not mean weakness.
How did you address those challenges?
I learned to prioritize. Everything cannot be urgent at the same time. I became more disciplined about my time and more comfortable saying no when something did not align with where I was going.
I also learned to give myself grace without giving myself excuses. There is a difference. Grace says today was difficult, but I will get back up tomorrow. Excuses say I should stop trying. I chose grace.
What is life like for you now?
My life is full, and I am grateful for that. Today I have the opportunity to lead, teach, write, speak, build businesses, host conversations through Those Who Give A Damn Podcast, and work with people who are trying to make their communities better.
But what matters most to me is that I can walk into a classroom or stand on a stage and tell a young person from a place like Fayette, Mississippi, that I understand what it feels like not to see the path ahead of you. I can also tell them that not seeing the path does not mean one does not exist.
From a broader perspective, what you have learned about yourself through this experience?
I learned that I am more resilient than I once understood. I also learned that success does not erase where you came from, and I do not want it to.
Fayette is still part of me. Mississippi is still part of me. The struggles are part of me. The people who poured into me are part of me. Education did not teach me to run away from those experiences. It gave me the tools to understand them, use them, and hopefully make the road easier for somebody coming behind me.
What advice would you give others facing this challenge?
Do not disqualify yourself before the world ever gets the chance to consider you.
Apply. Submit the application. Write the book. Start the business. Go back to school. Ask the question. Walk into the room. Take the opportunity.
You may come from poverty. You may come from a small town. You may have been underestimated. None of those things gets to write the final chapter of your life unless you hand them the pen.
What would you tell your younger self if you could go back?
I would tell that young boy in Fayette to dream even bigger.
I would tell him that one day the things he thinks make his world small will become part of the story he uses to inspire other people. I would tell him to listen to his mother and grandmother, take every opportunity seriously, read more, worry less about fitting in, and stop assuming that certain rooms belong to other people.
Most of all, I would tell him, “You belong there too.”
If others reading this would like to connect with you to ask questions, are you open to that?
Absolutely. One of the reasons I share my story is because I want people to know that where you begin does not determine where you can go. Readers can connect with me through my website.