This didn’t happen by chance. It happened because of exceptional colleagues, customers, and community partners who share a vision. And I don’t say this lightly. I work with, for, and on behalf of some of the most compassionate people, leaders who balance empathy with accountability. We all want to grow our impact and earnings. We all want to see people, those who work with and for us, those we serve. We want to give people dignity and hope through jobs and capital. And we all push ourselves to be better.
Seven years ago, fueled by my background as someone who wasn’t supposed to make it, but did, through effort and the risks others took on me, I developed a concept called Impact Banking. It was a bold call for corporations to partner with us in serving low-to-moderate-income communities. A few stepped up in a big way.
We all took a little less.
They accepted a little less on their deposits.
We took on a little more risk, setting aside more in provisions, accepting a little less profit, and giving ourselves license to push internal structures to be more patient.
But guess what? The community gained a lot more, and we are all better for it. This is shared economic prosperity. We are a top bank in serving low-to-moderate-income communities and traditional Main Street commercial businesses because we are constantly learning and striving to serve better. We are a top bank not just because of what we do, but because of how we do it and who we partner with. You know who you are, driven leaders fueled by something more than money. Our collective performance, including exceptional financial results, is a reflection of being clear on what truly drives us.
I’m still on cloud nine because Twice Over a Man was selected to be featured on Bookshop, the Amazon of independent books. As of today, about 1,700 copies have been sold. It’s a slow burn to get the word out, but that’s the reality of being independent versus having a big publishing house behind you.
I am focused, because I believe the message in this book will transform lives. It’s about:
This process is transforming me as a leader. Not only am I meeting incredible talent, people who will become part of the pipeline for the Bank and other places where I have influence, but my leadership capacity is being stretched by the rawness and realness of these conversations. I can sense it, I am becoming better.
It is time-intensive, but these conversations are one of those defining moments. I’m pleased to share that I’ve now completed 41 of the 50 interviews. I can’t wait to move into the next phase, analyzing insights and building the program.
To those of you who have generously given your time, thank you. I am grateful, and I will run through the tape.
Yet Even As I Celebrate, I Am Sad. My Heart Is Heavy.
Life has a way of holding joy and sorrow in the same breath, reminding us that we can be deeply grateful and profoundly grieving at the same time.
My little brother passed away this past Friday (January 31, 2024). I was grateful to spend time with him in hospice, where we talked about life, his regrets, his lows, and his highs. He spent his final days at Evelyn’s House in St. Louis, surrounded by an incredible staff.
One thing that stuck with me, aside from their kindness, was what they told me almost every day: "Your brother can’t stop talking about you."
They knew where I worked and what I was doing because he was so proud.
During our conversations, my brother shared more of his heart. At one point, he too had big dreams and goals, but his development was arrested, by environment and by choice. He said this to me in so many words.
In his final hours, we prayed, we laughed, we celebrated. And his words gave me comfort , reminding me that we must live in the tension of celebrating life while grieving. We must keep showing up, as humans, as leaders who are human first.
I was recently asked how I cope with loss, grief, and setbacks, I keep running through the tape.
And to all of you, keep living, leading, and loving.
If you know someone, anywhere in the world, who feels stuck in their career and is ready to break free, have them schedule an appointment (link at the top of my LinkedIn profile). Let’s help more people get unstuck. This is my version of running through the tape. Until tomorrow.
There are things we say out loud, and then there are the thoughts we keep just beneath the surface, the ones that don’t always make it to the main page but still shape our story. In the Margins is where I share my even more private reflections. These are the moments, emotions, and truths that don’t always demand attention but deserve to be acknowledged.
For those who take the time to look closer, you’ll find what’s written in the white space, the quiet, unfiltered truths that linger between the lines.
My brother was 48 and had been in hospice for the last few weeks. He passed away on January 30.
I got to say what I needed to say, and he got to say what he needed to say. I’m sad, but okay, sad for the potential of a life never fully actualized, sad for the environment and choices that led him there.
But I am also grateful, grateful that he is with Mom, that he is no longer suffering.
You know, I have those moments when I just stop and fight back the tears. He is the first of the four of us to pass on. And sometimes, I can’t help but think, the seal is broken.
"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me." — Psalm 23:4
Cornelius, I love you, and I’ll keep pushing for us all until I have no more push left. If you’re reading this, I hope you feel even more encouraged. You have been a blessing in my life. Take a moment, tell those you care about that you care about them. And whatever your assignment in this life may be, don’t wait. Step into it fully.