I feel less alone anytime I find another soul on this earth who shares my love for writing and reading. My passion for literature ignited early, probably around age four. I would collect copy paper from teachers, staple the sheets, and create short books and stories straight from my imagination. I routinely finished two to three books every week. Just imagine a kindergartner who preferred writing to playing at recess or taking a nap! A feeling of relief washes over me the moment a pencil or pen enters my hand. It wasn’t until one of my stories was used in my kindergarten graduation, earning me credit as the sole writer, that God truly began to do a work in me. 

I come from a family with a deep, multi-generational commitment to education, particularly on my maternal side. My great-grandmother and many of her siblings were teachers or actively involved in the educational system. They were HBCU graduates who saw their intellect as a crucial tool for paving the way for others in the Black community. For special occasions, my gifts weren’t toys and dolls, but rather books, dictionaries, instruments, and writing tools. I honestly preferred these presents. One of the earliest books I received, which I still have today, was a collection of selected poems by Langston Hughes, a gift from my grandfather. Before receiving it, I often read those poems aloud to him and my great-aunt at bedtime—a ritual they loved. Sometimes we’d read in bed, and sometimes on the porch at night as the stars lit up the sky.

I honor my grandfather today and every day as the man who taught me to see the beauty in language and the power of my own pen. Also a writer in his own lane, he showed me that words could be a refuge, a revolution, a way to make sense of the world. It’s a call to write my truth, to seize every chance to expand my mind, but to never lose sight of my roots, and never to relinquish the pen, no matter the world’s demands.

Years later, I began posting original poetry on social media platforms. Throughout high school, I frequently had opportunities to perform spoken word pieces or recite my poetry at various events. I’ll never forget the thrill of being called into the principal’s office and receiving a personal invitation to recite an original poem I wrote for our Black History Month program.

Upon entering college, I joined The Next Great American Poets Inc. (NGAP), a student-led nonprofit organization founded at Morehouse College in 2007 and based in the Atlanta University Center. NGAP is dedicated to enhancing the artistic landscape of the AUC and the Atlanta community by giving artists a collective for learning, growing, and performing original works. It creates inclusive and safe spaces for writers and creatives of all forms to express themselves. A special thank you to the president at the time, Alex, for being such a sweet, kind gentleman who motivated a young freshman to embrace my gift.

This passion of mine most likely pushed me to finish my undergraduate journey early. Being part of a research-based department rewarded me with more opportunities to feed my passion for literature. I felt excited to write essays, whether two pages or fifty. Back then, one of my favorite “side hustles” was doing other students’ essays (shh, don’t tell anyone). The same can be said for my master’s in Christian Ministry. If there are any personal plans of pursuing my doctorate, I’m more than confident I’ll be prepared for such rigorous work.

Aside from that, I’ve successfully helped independent authors edit manuscripts, presentations, and reports. I also self-published my own prayer book, which God used to pay some of my bills during times of uncertainty. Will I publish another? We’ll see. Maybe some of these poems will be expanded into novels :). Anyway, for all the literature lovers out there, feel free to call me “cousin.”