They Asked Real Questions

Recently I spent time at Cardinal Ritter College Prep.

Before speaking to the full student body, I sat down privately with 10 student leaders and told them:

“No question is off limits.”

They didn’t waste the opportunity.

Once the questions started, the conversation got real.

One student asked about the challenges I faced growing up.
Another asked what kept me motivated.
Another asked how to balance faith with the pressure to fit in.
Another asked what challenges I faced while writing.
Another asked whether I experienced racism in college.
Another asked what sayings helped me through hard seasons.

Then one question stopped me:

“What do you wish someone had told you when you were our age?”

That question shaped the entire conversation.

My answer was simple.

When I was their age, I didn’t need more noise. I needed consistency. I needed care. I needed one adult who would stay.

That is still true for many young people today.

We often make change more complicated than it needs to be. Strategy matters. Structure matters. Opportunity matters. But sometimes the difference begins with one adult who shows up, speaks life, and refuses to walk away.

I know that because I lived the opposite.

Your Story Is Not Your Limitation

I told those students something I believe deeply:

Your story is not your limitation. It is your foundation.

That doesn’t mean your story doesn’t hurt.
It doesn’t mean it was fair.
And it doesn’t mean it won’t leave scars.

It simply means it does not get to define the rest of your life.

I grew up in foster care. My mother died when I was eight years old. I endured abuse and lived with fear and instability. Statistically, my life could have ended very differently.

But I kept getting up.

That is what I wanted those students to hear: whatever you are carrying, whatever your origin story may be, you can still go all the way.

Whatever “all the way” looks like for you.

Fear Motivated Me First. Faith Took Me Further.

One student asked what kept me motivated.

Early on, it was fear of repeating cycles and becoming what I had seen.

But later, faith took over.

Fear can get you moving, but it cannot sustain the journey. Faith carries you when the road gets long.

Faith helped me believe I could become more than what had happened to me. Faith helped me keep going when I was tired. Faith reminded me that my life had purpose.

Young people navigating pressure, identity, and expectations need to hear that.

You don’t have to be perfect to walk with God.
You don’t have to have every answer.

You just have to keep walking.

Setbacks Are Inevitable, but Failure Is Not an Option

One student asked what phrases helped me keep going.

Two came to mind immediately:

Setbacks are inevitable, but failure is not an option.

And:

You can be everywhere and nowhere.

That second one is about focus.

Young people today face constant distraction. Attention is pulled in every direction. But growth requires focus.

Writing a book required focus.
School required focus.
Leadership requires focus.
Life requires focus.

You can be everywhere and nowhere.

Dream widely, but learn to direct your energy.

Representation Still Matters

One student asked about my experience at Mizzou and whether I faced racism there.

The answer was yes.

Racism often appears through assumptions, lowered expectations, and subtle signals that you don’t belong.

Later in my career, when I stepped into banking, I asked one of the wealthiest men in St. Louis whether he had ever met a Black CEO of a bank with full operational control.

He said no.

That stayed with me.

Representation matters because when one person breaks through, it expands what others believe is possible.

If I can do it, then we can do it.

That is one reason I write and share my story.

Why I Write

One young woman asked what inspired me to write.

People often see the title, the role, or the success but never the road that led there.

But everyone has an origin story.

I write so young people understand that scars do not disqualify them. What they’ve been through does not have to determine where they end up.

If something in my story helps someone believe in their own future, then telling it is worth it.

What Cardinal Ritter Reminded Me

That morning reminded me why I do this work.

Young people are listening. They are carrying more than they show. And when you make room for honesty, they will meet you there.

It also reminded me that small moments matter.

A signed book matters.
A real conversation matters.
A word of encouragement matters.

Sometimes those moments stay with a young person longer than we realize.

But there is another lesson here for the adults reading this.

Many young people are not asking for perfection.

They are asking for presence.

They need adults who will listen, challenge them, and stay.

One of the questions that morning was:

“What do you wish someone had told you when you were our age?”

Many young people are still waiting to hear the answer.

So here is the question for us:

Who are we showing up for?

In our homes.
In our schools.
In our communities.
In our workplaces.

Mentorship doesn’t always require a formal program.

Sometimes it begins with a conversation.
Sometimes it begins with attention.
Sometimes it begins with simply staying.

My Hope

My hope is not just that those students read More Than a Conqueror.

My hope is that they see themselves differently.

That when life gets hard, they remember hardship does not have the final say.

That they protect their imagination, choose their circle wisely, and keep moving toward what God has for them.

But my hope also extends to us.

That we slow down enough to listen.

That we recognize the influence we have.

That we become the adult many of us once needed.

Because sometimes the difference in a young person’s life is not a system.

Sometimes it is one person who stays.

And sometimes that person can be you.

Most of all, I hope those students remember this:

You are not finished.
You are not what happened to you.
You are not limited by your beginning.

You are more than a conqueror.