I have always been a collector of things…knowledge, in particular. As a child, my father always told me, “It is better to know a little bit of many subjects than be a master of only one subject.”

When I grew up, I questioned Dad about his saying. He laughed and shared with me, “If you are knowledgeable about many different subjects, you will have something to say that can be meaningful in a conversation.” I nodded in approval.

Dad also predicted that I would be in many situations where my voice could be heard and that I would be judged on what I knew, and he wished that I would be the smartest girl in the room. I hope that I have not disappointed him. He went on to tell me about a historic speech that Dr. Martin Luther King made to junior high school students about life’s blueprint.

That young girl did not realize that her father was outlining a pattern, a sort of “Blueprint” for her success. The father knew the young girl was inquisitive and eager to learn more. He saw that she loved collecting and archiving all kinds of information. That father witnessed her desire to learn and hunger to improve herself. My father and I both shared a love for learning about history and enjoyed discussing the past.

You see, when my father was a little boy, he dreamed of becoming an architect. He had the knowledge and awareness that a well-constructed blueprint could help to create a magnificent structure. Much like many Black and Brown parents who deferred their dreams so that their children could have better lives, my father never became an architect of tall, magnificent structures who could stand the test of time, but he became an architect of people. He molded and shaped the lives of his children to be of service to mankind and an ardent supporter of our race.

My father used Dr. King’s speech “What Is Your Life’s Blueprint?” to help make his children resilient and strong in the headwinds of adversity and racism. My father knew that the decisions and indecisions that we make today (as children) would impact our lives as adults.

He knew that in our formative years, as children of color, our world may seem small and insignificant to white Americans, but we should still be impactful. My parents believed in hard work and community service. We were taught that our words should support our actions. My parents always told us that we were somebody and that we mattered. I had a considerably darker complexion than my sisters and brothers, but we were all the same, and we should hold our heads high and walk with purpose. “I am Black and Beautiful” was a phrase that was used regularly in our house.

My father instilled in our minds that when we grow up, we could be whatever we set our minds to, but only if we worked hard and stayed consistent with our academic studies.  My parents seemed a bit clairvoyant in our formative years. They knew that some of their children would be college-bound, while others would be more suited for skilled labor, but that did not matter to them. My parents cared that we worked hard and were good citizens.

My younger brother and I excelled in sports. My brother quickly gravitated toward the gridiron (football), but I chose ice skating and ballet. As a young girl, I dreamed of competing in the Winter Olympics one day. My father told both of us to excel in both sports and academia. He shared examples of Martin Luther King and Harry Belafonte with us. He said that both King and Belafonte had two jobs and excelled at both.

My father supplemented our school reading with books he had chosen himself. He wanted us to be well-informed of the corporate trickery and shenanigans that would come disguised as feedback in our adult lives. My parents did not expose us to the harsh realities of poverty, but we sure did read about them as a cautionary tale of what could happen if we take our minds off the prize.

My parents believed in the nonviolent principles espoused by Dr. Martin Luther King and took them to heart when they taught their children about life and love. My parents knew about the struggles of freedom and justice, and they prayed that their children would have a better life because of what they taught us.

Dinner-table conversations were the best part of our day. My parents discussed the issues of the day and the injustices of the world. We all sat around the table and got daily history lessons. These conversations ignited my passion for Black history and American history. Parents who taught their children to live their lives with passion and purpose created our blueprint for success.