“Bermuda, Bahama come on
pretty mama.” – The Beach Boys
Things just kept getting better. That one seed I planted just kept giving and giving. About 2 months after the Atlanta experience, I was sitting at my word processor doing some homework when I heard a knock at my apartment door. To my surprise, it was a family I met at the revival in Atlanta, the James’ from Bermuda. They explained that they were visiting their son, my boy Shannon James. We initially made small talk about how much they enjoyed the work I did in Atlanta. They then began asking me about my plans for winter break. They wanted to know if I planned to go home and if so, for how long. I told them I wasn’t really sure and that De and I were still trying to figure out our plans. Out of nowhere they pulled out two plane tickets and asked if De and I would be willing to spend a portion of our winter break in Bermuda. They were interested in me doing the same thing for their youth group in Bermuda that I did in Atlanta. They also wanted me to do a small speaking tour for the public and private school system. I sat there thinking to myself, “…this can’t be real.” Just six months prior to their visit, I specifically dreamt of going to Bermuda. My boy Shawn Crockwell was from Bermuda. When he heard my car broke down and that De and I needed a ride to school, he made it his business to make sure we got to school on time Monday thru Friday. On the way to school he would talk about what life was like growing up in Bermuda. Shawn talked about his love for futbol as a kid, the beautiful weather, the beaches and the food. He didn’t realize that while he was sharing what it was like in his world, I was envisioning everything he was saying. One day after a ride with Shawn I thought to myself, “We are going to go to Bermuda to experience what he keeps talking about.” Who would have known that a small thought would somehow travel across the Atlantic to the James family in Bermuda and eventually place them in my living room with not one, but two tickets to Bermuda. The next day De and I rushed to Kinko’s like two kids in a candy store to get our passports. I learned a valuable lesson about dreaming that year: dreaming alone may not guarantee that all your wishes come true, but it’s a hell of a start. The best part is that it doesn’t cost a dime to do it.
Bermuda
It was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen in my life. “In preparation for landing, please discontinue the use of all electronic devises; close your tray tables and fasten your seatbelts. We will be landing in Bermuda shortly,” the flight attendant advised. “We will be circling the island so for our first time visitors please take out your cameras.”
Seconds later, the plane turned as it made its initial decent. Suddenly, I saw the bluest water I have ever seen in my life. As the pilot landed the plane I could see pink, blue and yellow homes, it was unreal. I spent a little over two weeks on the island doing a small speaking tour for Bermuda’s school system. I spent the first half of the day speaking to middle and high school students. I tried to drill in their minds the importance of having a dream, setting goals and making the most out of their lives. In the afternoons, I visited at-risk students in youth detention facilities. I was somewhat surprised to see that the kids on the island faced some of the same challenges our innercity youth experienced. Shocked or not, I didn’t hold back one bit. My message was simple and straight to the point: stop the madness. I let them have it and I challenged them to appreciate the opportunities they had. I spent the evenings at a church conducting a youth revival. Talk about an upgrade, my self-esteem and my skill set grew exponentially. My presentations grew stronger after each school visit. I can’t explain the feeling I had walking into that auditorium and seeing students staring into my eyes and listening closely to every word I said. When I got back on the plane and headed back to the States, I felt like a millionaire. Less than 4 years ago I was a homeless high school dropout and now I was becoming a successful, international motivational speaker. My thoughts were that, if I can reach the youth and impress the teachers and staff in Bermuda, I should be able to hold my own in the States too.
Don’t be content
When I returned to the States, I was hungry for success. I had a taste of the good life, the beach, the food, the money, and I wasn’t about to go back to Huntsville and settle for mediocrity. As soon as I landed I got on my grind. I took my G.E.D class to another level. I recruited more volunteers, I purchased more software and I took my recruitment efforts to another level. However, there was one problem. I was putting so much of my time and effort into my speaking career and my community service work that my grades were suffering. By the end of the fall semester of my junior year, I was dismissed from college. From the outside looking in, it may have appeared to be a major setback. In reality, it was a blessing in disguise because neither my head nor heart was in school. Now that I had been dismissed, I had 24 hours a day to invest in my career. Even though I took a lot of flack for getting kicked out, I was determined to prove all of my doubters wrong.