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Your Village Teaches You How to Recognize an Ally

There are certain people you remember from college because they taught a great class.

Then there are people you remember because they changed the direction of your life.

When I look back at my years at the University of Tampa, there are plenty of people I could name who helped me along the way. I had hall directors who watched me grow from a teenager into a young man. I had advisors. I had friends. I had people who offered encouragement at different points during those four years.

But when I think about the people who had a lasting influence on me academically, two professors immediately come to mind: Dr. Jackson and Dr. Punzo.

What fascinates me today isn't simply that they helped me.

It's that somehow, at a relatively young age, I knew they were people I should listen to.

And I think I finally understand why.


I Had Been Trained by My Village

My mother used to talk about my generation as one of the last generations that truly experienced the idea that it takes a village to raise a child.

Growing up in Arkansas, that village wasn't limited to my immediate family.

There were teachers.

People at church.

Relatives.

Neighbors.

Adults who weren't necessarily responsible for raising me but nevertheless felt some responsibility for helping me become the person I was supposed to become.

Over time, without realizing it, I learned what genuine investment looked like.

I learned what it felt like when an adult wasn't simply talking at me but was actually trying to help me see something I couldn't yet see for myself.

So when I eventually left that village and went away to college, I carried something with me that I didn't realize I possessed:

I knew how to recognize an ally.

Dr. Jackson Showed Me What Support Looked Like

Dr. Jackson was my organic chemistry professor.

What stood out about him wasn't simply what happened inside the classroom. He went out of his way to engage minority students.

At a university where I was part of a distinct minority, that mattered.

He supported minority organizations. He took an interest in what I was doing. He would pull me aside and have conversations with me.

There is something incredibly powerful about being in an environment where you sometimes feel like an outsider and encountering someone in a position of authority who makes it clear:

I see you.

Dr. Jackson helped me understand how to navigate the environment immediately in front of me.

He helped me see how I could use my abilities to successfully make it through school.

But Dr. Punzo gave me something different.

Dr. Punzo Helped Me See Beyond College

Dr. Punzo was my undergraduate advisor throughout my four years at the University of Tampa.

At one point, I seriously considered changing my major.

Biology was difficult.

And like a lot of college students, I was looking at the difficulty immediately in front of me rather than the opportunities that might exist years down the road.

Dr. Punzo gave me a perspective I hadn't considered.

He didn't simply tell me, Stay in biology.

He explained why.

He helped me understand that a biology degree didn't lock me into one particular career. It could become a foundation for opportunities I couldn't yet see.

That conversation became so significant that decades later I made a video about it:

I Almost Changed My Major. One Conversation Changed My Entire Career.

Watch the video here:

https://youtu.be/JHJylkHa86Q

What makes that conversation even more remarkable to me today is everything that happened afterward.

The biology degree wasn't the end of my educational journey.

It became part of the foundation underneath everything that followed.

Graduate education.

Military service.

Law school.

Legal practice.

And eventually an entirely different professional path than the one the college-age version of me probably imagined.

Dr. Punzo couldn't have predicted every one of those steps.

Neither could I.

But he could see something I couldn't see yet:

The decision I was making in that moment wasn't only about surviving the next semester. It was about preserving possibilities for the person I might become.

One Gave Me the Close-Up. The Other Gave Me the Wide Shot.

Looking back, I realize Dr. Jackson and Dr. Punzo served two very different purposes in my life.

Dr. Jackson helped me understand:

How do I succeed where I am right now?

Dr. Punzo helped me understand:

How might what I'm doing right now affect where I can go later?

One gave me the close-up.

The other gave me the wide shot.

And you need both.

Sometimes you need somebody who can help you survive Monday.

Sometimes you need somebody who can help you understand why surviving Monday matters ten years from now.

The remarkable thing is that I had encountered versions of both people long before I arrived at college.

They were in my village.

What Happens When You Leave the Village?

This may be the bigger lesson.

When you grow up surrounded by people who instinctively look out for you, you can easily take that environment for granted.

Then one day you leave.

You go to college.

You move to another city.

You start a career.

You enter spaces where nobody knows your parents, your family, your history or the community that helped raise you.

Your village isn't physically there anymore.

So what do you do?

You learn to recognize the characteristics of the village in other people.

You notice the professor who takes an extra moment to explain something.

You notice the supervisor who gives you advice that isn't necessarily going to benefit them.

You notice the mentor who challenges you instead of simply telling you what you want to hear.

You notice the person who sees possibilities in you that you haven't learned to see yet.

Those people may come from completely different backgrounds.

They may not look like the people who raised you.

They may not have shared your experiences.

But something about their investment in you feels familiar.

And maybe that's one of the greatest gifts a village can give you.

A good village doesn't simply prepare you to live inside the village.

It teaches you how to recognize good people once you leave it.

Somebody May Be Part of Your Village Without Knowing It

Decades later, when I think about the University of Tampa, Dr. Punzo and Dr. Jackson remain two of the first professors who come to mind.

Not because they mapped out my entire life.

They didn't.

Not because one conversation magically made everything easy.

It didn't.

They mattered because at important moments in my development, they gave me perspective.

And because of the people who had invested in me before college, I was prepared to recognize that perspective when it appeared.

That's something I appreciate much more today than I did then.

Sometimes the greatest influence your village has on your life isn't simply what those people teach you.

It's that they teach you what wisdom, support and genuine investment look like — so you'll recognize them when they appear again.

And sometimes, one of those people will say something that doesn't seem monumental at the time.

Then thirty years later, you'll look back and realize:

That conversation changed everything.

Watch the Companion Video

🎥 I Almost Changed My Major. One Conversation Changed My Entire Career.

In the video, I tell the story of the conversation with Dr. Punzo that helped convince me to remain a biology major — and how a decision I made as a college student ultimately influenced a career journey I never could have predicted.

https://youtu.be/JHJylkHa86Q

Who was part of your village?

Think about the teacher, professor, coach, relative, neighbor, supervisor or mentor who saw something in you before you could see it yourself.

And then ask yourself another question:

Did they simply help you — or did they also teach you how to recognize the next person who would?

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