She Slept Behind an AutoZone. Now She's 4th In Her Class.

Haaaaaaappy Friday.

Oooooooweeee.

Pull up a chair for this one because we have been building to this moment for weeks. We spent the last few weeks highlighting this year's grads in our Finish Line & Front Door series. To read our first four stories...

A.J. from Fisk.
A.O. from Delaware State.
B.C. from Benedict College.
G.T. from Paul Quinn.

And now we are here.

Meet our fifth. M.N. from Lane.

But first...just in case you are new here.

Move-In Day Mafia is the family that shows up for HBCU students who have aged out of foster care, are unhoused, or are navigating college under severe financial hardship.

We don't just move them in.

We stay.

Four years. Monthly care packages. Because getting in is one thing. Staying, is where everything gets tested.
We are family. Mafia Miracle Makers, as I like to call it.​

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MEET M.N.

Lane College. Jackson, Tennessee. Interdisciplinary Studies, English and Arts. From Memphis.

M.N. had been in the foster care system since she was three years old.

Three.

Her parents struggled with mental health and criminal activities. There were stretches when M.N. and her siblings were left alone for months. No lights. No water. Neighbors would check in to make sure they were still breathing.

Her brother is currently serving six life sentences. She was barely two years old when that happened.

She and her sisters were split up. Moved around. Sometimes with family who were abusive. Sometimes with families dealing with their own housing instability. Then, when M.N. was 7, one foster family took all three sisters together. That held for a while until...

M.N. came out as gay at 17, and they put her out.

She went to live with friends. Couch-surfed from Memphis to Nashville to Arkansas. She was diagnosed with major depressive disorder and anxiety. She got to college and failed out freshman year. Took a year and a half off with nowhere to land.

At one point, she slept behind an AutoZone. Outside...behind an Autozone. Can you even imagine?

And then she decided...just that simple...decided: "I didn't want to be broke my whole life."

That decision was made by a young girl...behind an AutoZone...who got tired of the story she was living and decided it was time to write a different one. I'm thankful for resilience.

She packed up what she had. And got herself back to Lane College. But this time? Different resolve. Different maturity. Different M.N. She locked in.

And...she...killed...the...game.

​The young lady who entered foster care at three graduated #4 in her class.

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​WITH INK ON HER HANDS & A NEEDLE IN HER POCKET

Out of all of that chaos, all of that instability, all of those years of just trying to survive, something unexpected grew.

Art.

Art rose up and she ran with it. I'm jumping up and down now. Watch where her art took M.N.

Five art galleries. M.N. participated in five of them while she was in school.

A tattoo apprenticeship. Competitive. Thousands of applicants. Selected based on the strength of her portfolio alone. She won.

Her first commissioned pieces. She sold them while she was still a student.

The President's List. Seven consecutive semesters. Not once. Not twice. Seven straight semesters, she was on that list.

President of three clubs at the same time. Robotics. Art club. Creative writing.

Business owner. Tutor. Student worker. Peer mentor. All at once. All while holding her grades.

​And now she is being commissioned to paint murals.

She watched Ink Masters as a kid. She loved art, poetry, cartoons, color. She has a dream of making Afrocentric animation, of working for Studio Ghibli one day.

And while she was in college, surviving and building, she took a tattoo needle and turned it into a career. She didn't wait until after graduation. She built the business inside the degree.

​That is discipline. That is vision. That is what happens when someone decides their history is not going to be their destination. And when a community of people shows up to make sure they have everything they need to prove it.

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​YOU SHOULD BE PROUD TOO

In the last four years of doing Mafia, the biggest thing I've noticed is how taking care of their basic needs enables these scholars' minds to explore, expand, and take flight.

Every month, they submit their care package wishlists.

And every month, I learn something about who they are by what they ask for.

M.N. asked for a tattoo chair.

Not a pillow. Not a candle. A tattoo chair. Because she wasn't just getting through school. She was building a business inside of it.

When you bought that tattoo chair, you were investing in an entrepreneur who hadn't graduated yet.

When you grabbed that stencil printer, you were stocking the studio of an artist who was already turning her art into a career before she ever walked across a stage.

And then there were the Rice Krispies Treats Crispy Marshmallow Squares, the Gatorade, the Pringles, the Doritos, the Cheetos.

Every. Single. Month.

When you tossed those in the cart, you were sending her a little piece of joy on the days the grind got heavy.
And then there was the month she ordered a whole stack of Manga and Anime books. You bought them. When you said yes to her wishlist, month after month, you were saying: we see all of you.

That was YOU, Mafia Miracle Maker.

​You were not just sending supplies. You were sending proof that somebody believed she was worth investing in. Your investment plus her tenacity, her determination, her refusal to quit...walked across that graduation stage as #4 in her class.

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​Ready to help us celebrate FIVE graduating seniors?
​
This year we have five scholars crossing the stage. The most we have ever had in one year. We are covering their graduation regalia, fees, and gifts so they walk across that stage feeling every bit of what they earned. If you've got $1, $10, $100 or whatever feels right, it all goes toward that moment.
👉🏾 MoveInDayMafia.org/Graduates

Usually, this section shares screenshots from a variety of our scholars but in celebration of M.N., here are a few of hers.

Last week I told you I was writing to you from New York City.

I went to be in the studio for the final taping of the Sherri {Shepherd} Show. To be front row for my friend, the same way she has been front row for me. You already know that story.

What I did not tell you is that I came home with a souvenir nobody asked for.

A bug.

A full-on, knocked-me-flat, had-me-in-bed-since-Friday bug.

And here is the thing. I have a lot going on right now.

Applications are open. Move-In Season is coming. HBCU Bingo, our in-person fundraiser in July, is coming. So I fought it. I pushed through. I kept telling myself I didn't have time to rest.

And my body said: yes, you do.

I finally had to stop. Lie down. Let my body do what it was trying to do. And somewhere in the stillness, I remembered something I already knew.

My healing comes in rest.

Delaying rest was not making me stronger. It was making recovery harder and longer. I was working against myself.

I also had to trust that God is not surprised by my timing. He knew the Sherri taping was last week. He knows Move-In Season is coming. He knows about HBCU Bingo coming up. He knows about all of it.

So, my getting sick didn't just pop up on Him. Which means maybe the rest was part of the plan, too.

Some days, doing your best looks like a full calendar and a packed schedule.

And some days, doing your best looks like pulling the covers up and letting your body heal.

Both are doing your best.

If you are running on empty right now, pushing through something you probably should have sat down with a long time ago, I want to ask you something.

What would happen if you trusted that the work will still be there after you rest?

Because it will be. And you will do it better when you are whole.

Rest is not quitting. Rest is preparation.

See you next week, Mafia Miracle Maker.

And don't forget...

You can donate to our graduate fund through next week. 👉🏾MoveInDayMafia.org/Graduates

Thank you for being the community that showed up for M.N.

And for all five of them.

Hug yourself for me.

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