At forty-one, I still look back to the strong-willed person I was as a child. Whenever I feel as if I can’t leap over a hurdle, whenever I am scared to go after what I want, whenever I am paralyzed by fear and shame, I remember the young black boy who dreamt aspirations into existence. Dreams are the destinations we arrive at as we chase our wishes and our callings. I learned to run, not away from bullies, but in pursuit of the passions that enflamed my heart. I was a persistent and resilient black boy—despite the forces that attempted to stop me from pursuing my dreams and the forces that
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