The Buddhist monks’ long walk toward Washington, D.C. has quietly captured the attention of many—and reminded me of something important. There are moments in our shared life when progress does not arrive with urgency or spectacle, but through movement that is slow, deliberate, and sustained. Real change often looks less like a breakthrough and more like a long walk—taken step by step, without certainty about how far the road will stretch ahead.

There are moments in our shared life when something cuts through the noise and reminds us how fragile the human project really is. This is especially true in times of moral tragedy—through loss, grief, a collective pause, or the experience of broken justice. When the ground feels unsteady, certainty can feel reassuring. This is where the myth of singular leadership takes hold.

There was a season of my life when I spent a lot of time on airplanes. Flying across Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Alaska, and parts of Canada, you cover vast stretches of land. The Greater Northwest reveals mountains, rivers, forests, wilderness, and long expanses where towns appear only as small clusters of light. If you’re paying attention, something happens up there at 30,000 feet. The world you left behind—meetings, deadlines, titles, expectations—shrinks. What felt heavy begins to loosen its grip.

The United States of America has always been an experiment—one built on lofty ideals but marred by deep divisions. Slavery, racism, and systemic inequities have long been part of our story. We’ve had moments of progress toward justice and equality, but today it feels like many of those gains have been rolled back ten steps. I fear that the promise of the American experiment is at risk—not because our ideals have changed, but because we have stopped choosing to live them out.

Last Monday, our Boys & Girls Clubs of Greater High Point received news that no youth-serving organization ever wants to hear: our federal Title IV funding through the 21st Century Community Learning Centers program has been put on hold by the current administration. As I shared with the High Point Enterprise in this article, this pause threatens vital services for some of our community’s most vulnerable kids.

Every neighborhood has a child standing at the edge of possibility—waiting not just for opportunity, but for someone to believe in them. Opportunity is not a given for too many young people in underserved communities. But belief? That can change everything.

Data has become the go-to currency for proving progress in an age of dashboards, impact reports, and heat maps. We chase metrics with urgency—percentages of improvement, test scores that inch upward, budget efficiency models that tell funders their dollars “worked.” And yes, numbers matter. But data, on its own, is profoundly incomplete.

I’m thrilled to announce the upcoming release of my new book, The Box: How the Gift of Adversity Shapes Growth, Innovation, and Transformation. This book is a deeply personal and practical exploration of how the challenges we face—what I call "the box"—can become the fuel for our growth and reinvention. It’s about more than just bouncing back. It’s about breaking out.

I woke early on Easter Monday to the news that Pope Francis had died. Though I am not Catholic, the weight of that headline hit me in the chest. It was not just the death of a man—it felt like the dimming of a rare light in a church that too often casts shadows.

In a time of compounding challenges—economic instability, systemic inequities, and technological acceleration—the nonprofit sector is being called to evolve faster and more effectively than ever before. Traditional models of service delivery, funding, and impact measurement are being pushed to their limits. But for organizations willing to embrace disruption, this moment is also ripe with opportunity.

The world of business and nonprofit organizations is no stranger to adversity. Leaders in both sectors continually adapt to market fluctuations, funding challenges, and shifting consumer and donor behaviors. However, the current economic landscape presents an especially complex set of unknowns, fueled by trade uncertainties, rising tariffs, and the looming threat of reductions in federal funding. For many, the question isn’t just how to grow—it’s how to survive.

As we honor the life and legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., I find myself reflecting deeply on his enduring impact—not just on our nation but on my own journey as a leader and advocate for positive social change. Dr. King’s words and actions have served as both a compass and a rallying cry, illuminating the path forward even in the face of adversity.

In a world where efficiency drives progress, nonprofits face a growing demand to deliver high-quality services and social outcomes with limited resources. This is where AI can offer benefits—a game-changing tool that can empower nonprofits to achieve more, whether it’s optimizing day-to-day operations or enhancing strategic planning. As I’ve researched how AI is being adopted across the nonprofit sector, I’ve come across key areas where these technologies are making a meaningful difference.

Stewardship lies at the heart of effective philanthropy. It encompasses the ethical and strategic management of resources entrusted to nonprofit organizations by donors, foundations, and stakeholders. At its core, stewardship ensures that every dollar raised is maximized for impact, fostering trust and accountability while driving meaningful social change.

Innovation is often heralded as the lifeblood of progress, but nowhere is its transformative potential more evident than in place-based development. By focusing on localized strategies to address community-specific needs, place-based development enables economic mobility, fosters sustainable change, and influences policy in ways that ripple beyond the immediate region.

Early childhood development is a critical phase, setting the foundation not only for educational success but also for long-term economic stability and social well-being. Children who experience strong early learning environments, particularly in literacy, tend to perform better academically and go on to achieve higher economic mobility, which in turn disrupts cycles of systemic poverty. Central to this transformation is the development of reading proficiency by third grade, a milestone that research identifies as a primary predictor of long-term educational and career outcomes.

The following document represents a case for the 50,000 Students in 5 Years Campaign of Helping Education, designed to serve underserved students across North Carolina. This 8-page collateral piece targets funders and community partners, offering a case for the campaign initiative. It includes the following sections that make a case for the campaign: Strategic Priorities, Call to Action, Flipping the Script, Access and Capacity, Applied Learnings through Innovation, Distrupting High Per-Student Cost Structures, and Alignment with North Carolina’s Science of Reading Commitment.

The new documentary Sentenced (Unanimous Media),[1] narrated by Stephen Curry, confronts one of the most pressing and often overlooked issues in education today—childhood illiteracy. It was released on Peacock on September 16, 2024, and I watched it two days later. Produced by Stephen and Ayesha Curry, the film illuminates the dire consequences of not being able to read proficiently by the end of third grade.