From Getting Put Out To The Atlanta Hawks Floor...And More!!!!!

Every month our scholars submit their care package forms.

And on it, they have to finish one sentence.

They pick one:
“I’m grateful that…”
“I’m excited that…”
“I’m looking forward to…”

I read every single one and most of the time, the answers are range...
 
Passing a test.
Making the Dean's List.
I ended a relationship that wasn't good for me.
Finally understanding a class that was kicking their butt.

Then I got to P.J.’s sentence:

This did something extra to my heart.

See… P.J. didn’t come to Clark Atlanta on a straight line.

Her dad was never really around.

Her mom left that relationship when she was a baby because it was abusive.

She grew up as the second of ten kids, trying to find her place in a world that never felt very settled.

Then at 17...

SHE WAS PUT OUT.

Can you imagine the fear, the uncertainty?

For a while, she stayed with a friend, trying to figure out where life was going to go now.

College wasn’t the conversation anymore.

Survival was.

Clark Atlanta had always been her dream school, but after that, she wasn’t trying to pick a major. She was trying to figure out if she even had a future that included school at all.

And then a woman opened her home to her.

P.J. calls her one of her heroes because she did more than give her a place to stay. She gave her permission to dream again.

Which brings me to the part that got me.

When P.J. was 11 years old, her mom took her to an Atlanta Hawks game for HBCU night.

She doesn’t remember the score.
She wasn’t watching the basketball.
She was watching the dancers.

And she decided right then:
One day, I’m going to do that.

Fast forward.

This year is her first year on the Morehouse Mahogany in Motion dance team.

And that sentence she submitted on her care package form told me she was about to step onto that exact floor.

The same one she stared at from the stands as a child who didn’t know yet how hard life was going to get.

I could suddenly see two versions of the same girl at the same time.

An 11-year-old locked in on the dancers and not the scoreboard.
And a 17-year-old trying to figure out where she was going to sleep after being put out of her home.

Those two girls were separated by a lot of fear, a lot of uncertainty, and a lot of nights she didn’t know what the next step was supposed to be.

And now this college student… our Clark Atlanta scholar… was about to step onto that exact court in front of THOUSANDS of spectators.

That’s when JOY hit me.

I wasn’t excited because she was dancing at an NBA game.
I was excited because a dream that could have quietly died had somehow survived.

Because somebody took her in.
Because she kept going.
Because she made it to campus.
Because she auditioned anyway.

And because she didn’t just make the team.

She got the moment she imagined before life got complicated.

I love watching dreams come true. That's why our Mafia tagline is "Where dreams get the greenlight...one dorm room at a time."

My favorite moments at the helm of this miracle movement...miracles yall help us pull off is when life stops looking like survival for them and starts looking like a great college experience.

Experiences.
Friends.
Hobbies
Plans.
Normal.

That word matters more than people realize.

I celebrate the big, undeniable miracles.

But some weeks the miracle is simply a student getting to have a normal college life.

Thank you for being our partner in miracles.

And if you are new here...Move-In Day Mafia provides decked out dorm, rooms, and monthly care packages for HBCU students who have aged out of foster care, or unhoused, or experience, severe financial hardships. To date, we have moved in 109 students at 28 HBCUs!


WHELP! I LOST MY PROFESSIONALISM...AGAIN!

So let me tell you what happened.

A few weeks ago a large popular foundation reached out and asked to meet.

I didn’t prepare a pitch deck.
I didn’t rehearse a presentation.

I showed up to talk.

I told them the truth. I told them where our students struggle, the parts nobody sees after move-in day, and the areas where I knew they already served well. I honestly hung up thinking, “That was a really good conversation.”

Based on their reactions, I figured maybe they’d help us with a program and possibly a low five-figure gift.

Which would have been wonderful.

So we scheduled a follow-up meeting this week and I logged on expecting to discuss logistics.

Instead… she caught me off guard.

She calmly said they had decided to invest in Move-In Day Mafia.

And then she said the number.

SIX FIGURES!!!!!! OMG SIX FIGURES MAFIA MIRACLE MAKER!

I didn’t maintain composure. I didn’t nod professionally. I didn’t do the nonprofit executive thing.

I cried.

More than once.

Not polite tears. The kind you cannot stop even when you try to regain your dignity on a video call.

And I wasn't even embarassed.

Because in that moment, I wasn’t thinking about budgets.

I was thinking about the late night conversations with my team. I was thinking about the months where I wondered if we could keep showing up the way our students need us to. I was thinking about how often I quietly say, “Lord, please cover this.”

There was no pitch.
No proposal.
No formal ask.

Just God.

Sending help I didn't even know how to ask for.

And I don’t say that casually.

I know the prayers I’ve prayed.
I know the fears I carry.
I know the responsibility of students who don’t have a backup plan.

That gift didn’t feel like recognition.

It felt like relief.

Because here is the truth: organizations like ours don’t just need help to start students in August. We need stability so students can stay in October… and November… and February… when life happens and college becomes fragile again.

When I think about our baby P.J. stepping onto that court, I don’t just see a dancer.

I see what becomes possible when a student has enough stability to keep going long enough for life to get good.

This grant wasn’t about our organization.

​It was about protecting outcomes like hers.

​Here are a few more shots of their good news.

After the six-figure grant conversation ended, I sat there for a long time.

Not celebrating.
Not strategizing.

Just… thinking and thanking.

Because that moment didn’t start this week.

It actually started in 2020.

I need to tell you something I did not handle well.

When God told me to move to Atlanta from Los Angeles in 2020… I pitched a whole fit.

He had already pulled me out of my Hollywood career. I loved editing. I loved production. I loved my life in Los Angeles. That was my city. My friends were there. My history was there.

And now He wanted me to leave that too???

The part that really got me was this:

He didn’t even tell me what I was moving to Atlanta to do.

All I knew is that it had to do something with HBCUs.

That was it. No details. No job description. No timeline. Just go.

And I did not want to do it. I did not want to start over.

New life.
New friends.
New community.

I was finally honest with Him about it because I didn’t understand why relocation was necessary for whatever He was calling me to do.

That’s when I felt Him say that what He was calling me to build would require me to live in a city where my resources understood I was part of that community.

I didn’t fully understand it, but I understood it enough to stop arguing.

So I packed up my life, drove across the country, got here…
…and a few days later the world shut down.

I remember sitting in my new apartment thinking,
“You brought me across the country for THIS?”

Fast forward to this week.

The grant we just received happened because Move-In Day Mafia is rooted in Atlanta. The relationship, the trust, the proximity… all of it came from being here. That is what drew them to us!...We were based in Atlanta!

Not from a pitch.
Not from networking.
Not from strategy.

From obedience.

I didn’t understand the instruction when I got it.
I definitely didn’t like it when I got it.
But sometimes God positions you long before He reveals why.

And sometimes the miracle you’re praying for today is sitting on the other side of an instruction you didn’t want yesterday.

Now before I sign off for the week...

Don’t do it…

Don’t read this and think, “Oh they got a big grant. They don't need me.”

That grant was a blessing, but move-in season still comes every year. The Miracles In Motion Collective is how we prepare for the next group of scholars who are coming in August.

Therefore, we still need you in the family with your monthly support, Mafia Miracle Maker. So if you haven't already, please lock in with us. And listen… You don’t have to do something big. Even $1 a month makes you family, and we pool our dollars together.

Most people start at $10, and that level gets you #IBelieveInMiraclesForMoveInDayMafia merch plus helps us plan ahead for our incoming scholars.

MoveInDayMafia.org/Monthly

​See you next week. Don't forget to like, comment, share and hug yourself for me.