As a member of Black Generation X, I often find myself reflecting on the paths that were quietly laid out before me—paths shaped not by instructions, but by example.
When I look back on my upbringing, what stands out most is not what I was told, but what I observed. No one ever sat me down and explained what I should aspire to. Instead, I grew up surrounded by people who simply lived their values. They showed me, rather than told me, what was possible.
My earliest influences were my mother, her five brothers, my grandparents on both sides, and the extended family that framed my sense of normal. Both of my grandmothers went to college. All of my uncles went to college. My mother went to college and later earned a master’s degree. Four of my mother’s five brothers served in the military. My grandfather served. My uncle on my father’s side served. Education and service weren’t goals discussed out loud—they were just what people did.
No one told me to go to college. No one told me to join the military. Yet the people I respected most had done exactly that.
What they didn’t tell me mattered just as much as what they showed me.
Benefiting From Sacrifice We Didn’t Fully See
If you belong to the Silent Generation or the Baby Boomers, you lived through trial by fire. Doors were not simply opened—you forced them open, often at great personal cost. We were the future generation that benefited from that sacrifice.
By the time Black Gen X came of age, opportunities had expanded. Schools, churches, and community organizations did their best to encourage us. But the world we were being prepared for was already changing faster than our parents could fully understand.
They prepared us for structured systems—because that’s where their victories had been won.
And for a long time, that preparation worked.
Prepared for Structure, Not for the Unknown
Looking back, nearly everyone in my family operated inside structured environments:
- Teachers
- Principals
- Military institutions
- Federal government roles
Even my uncle who became a dentist eventually built his own practice after moving through established systems of education and credentialing.
Structure meant predictability. Advancement paths existed. Stability was possible. Someone else made decisions about promotions, pay scales, and long-term security.
What no one prepared me for was what happens when you step outside that structure entirely.
When Structure Ends, Fear Begins
In 2007, at the age of 38, I stepped into a world I had not been trained for: running my own business.
Opening my own practice was terrifying—not because I lacked intelligence or work ethic, but because everything I had been conditioned to believe about success revolved around structure:
- Get the degree
- Get the job
- Work hard
- Be loyal
- Build security within the system
Entrepreneurship shattered that framework.
There was no roadmap. No guarantees. No institutional safety net. The business would only survive if I structured it. The support would only exist if I built it.
All the uncertainty that exists in traditional employment still existed—but now it was my responsibility alone.
Surviving Without a Blueprint
I was fortunate. I had mentors. I had an older attorney who helped guide me. I learned from his experience.
But when I look back honestly, the skills that carried me through weren’t taught in law school or professional training. They were survival skills:
- Independence learned as a latchkey kid
- Adaptability honed through navigating unfamiliar spaces
- Emotional resilience shaped by watching earlier generations endure racism, discrimination, and exclusion
Those skills helped me survive.
What they didn’t automatically teach me was how to thrive.
Because no one had ever shown us what thriving looked like outside the structure.
Surviving vs. Thriving
For many Black Gen X professionals, success was framed as staying afloat. Keeping the doors open. Making it through. Not failing.
Thriving—scaling, expanding, dreaming beyond stability—was harder to visualize when there was no generational reference point.
I was blessed to succeed. But for a long time, my definition of success was rooted in endurance rather than expansion.
That realization matters.
Why I Share This Now
When I look at younger generations today, I see a stronger focus on thriving, not just surviving. And that gives me hope.
If my generation had to learn some lessons the hard way, then our responsibility now is to share what we learned—openly, honestly, and without gatekeeping.
I take pride in speaking with younger professionals, new entrepreneurs, and even peers at my own stage of life. I share insights about working locally, thinking globally, and preparing for unstructured spaces long before you enter them.
Because no one should have to rely solely on trial by fire.
What Black Gen X Carries Forward
Black Generation X benefited from the sacrifices of those who came before us. We were nurtured, protected, and instilled with independence and resilience.
But many of us also learned that those tools—while powerful—did not fully prepare us for unstructured worlds.
The blessing is that we adapted anyway.
And now, we have something valuable to offer the generations coming behind us:
Context. Perspective. Truth.
That is what they didn’t tell us.
And that is what we can tell them now.
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