FINDING THE JOY IN IT ALL:
How two young men reminded me that the risks we take make life worth living

I have been trying for months to find the time and words to express my feelings and thoughts in this current moment, and then just recently, something brought it all into plain view. Before I get to the apex, allow me to lay out some quick context:

In summer 2024, I visited our Intensive Immersion Program in Richmond, California, to connect with some of our Hidden Geniuses as they worked feverishly to complete their culminating capstone projects and wrap up the final week of their 15-month commitment. My very last stop during the visit was with our Geniuses participating in our Business Track. Our Innovation Educator asked the room of young men who dared to be the first to present their business project to The Hidden Genius Project CEO. Though only one hand raised, it shot straight up with conviction.

A mild-mannered young man with a staid expression, Averill Stokes, stood up to present to the class. Known as ambitious and deeply focused, he was determined to apply to college in the coming fall, with little regard for his learning difference and neurodivergent diagnosis. As he rose to present and connected his laptop to the projector, he confessed that he was excited about what he was building, but a little nervous to be speaking about it in public for the first time. He then proceeded to explain with profound confidence how “there are many over-the-ear headphones in the market, but few are designed with a user in mind who might need to wear them all day”. In this case, Averill was speaking to the needs of certain neurodivergent individuals with sensory sensitivities that might require them to block out external noise to allow them to self-regulate and focus.

In listening to Averill’s presentation, I was struck by his commitment to addressing a meaningful access challenge for neuroexpansive individuals, and simultaneously, it occurred to me that we could all benefit from more effective and comfortable headphone technology, with the proper framing and marketing. Of course, in that vein, he could drastically increase the product’s total addressable market. Unable to contain myself, I asked Averill if he had ever heard of the Curb Cut Effect—popularized by Angela Glover Blackwell—which refers to the landmark moment in 1972 when the City of Berkeley began installing “curb cuts on local sidewalks,” dramatically enhancing wheelchair accessibility, while simultaneously facilitating smoother movement of skateboards, suitcases, strollers, and and human beings navigating a broader litany of mobility realities. I shared that I was inspired by his description of the use case of individuals with sensory sensitivities, and that he could center that story while selling exponentially more units to folks of all backgrounds. Six weeks later, Averill presented at the annual Genius showcase event, in front of several hundred attendees, highlighting his plans to build a phenomenal product meeting the needs of neurodivergent individuals, for all to enjoy.

Nearly a year to the day after my visit to the Richmond site, I returned to check in on the next wave of Geniuses. As I sat in on programming, I was greeted warmly by a familiar and animated face: it was Averill, as excited as I had ever seen him. He was just weeks away from starting his first term at California State University—East Bay, and he was working with us as an Alumni Youth Educator, joyfully mentoring younger Geniuses coming up behind him. Admittedly, while I would normally beam with pride to learn of these developments, on this occasion, I couldn’t help but skip past them, as I couldn’t wait to ask if he was still working on his headphones project. Averill, confident as ever, revealed that not only was he moving forward, but a prototype of his headphones was due to arrive from the manufacturer the following week. While I was not surprised that he had maintained such determined focus over the course of his senior year of high school, I was absolutely deeply inspired by his conviction and execution. That encounter made my week. Nearly five months later, Averill would make my year.

When Averill first met James Green a few years ago, he only knew James as an accomplished young entrepreneur and role model, as an Alum of one of The Hidden Genius Project’s earlier Immersion Program cohorts. He didn’t know the young man who grew disillusioned with educational institutions after he was pushed out of high school multiple times, or labeled the “class rebel” who birthed our program’s Business Track by way of his abject refusal to participate in our computer science sessions. Over five years after James had persisted in navigating any substantive obstacles to graduate two months earlier than his peers in his class, Averill only came to know him as a corporeal representation of Black youth entrepreneurship—a picture of what is possible when belief, access, and unlimited potential coincide. It is why I was so moved when just last week, James—who now works with The Hidden Genius Project full time as a trainer and coordinator of our Alumni Youth Educators–sent our staff this message he had just received from Averill:

– MESSAGE FROM AVERILL STOKES TO JAMES GREEN –

“Wassupp James I just want to say thank you so much for giving me tips about how to become an entrepreneur! I really appreciate it! The headphones are here, but I’m not selling it on my website yet. I’m selling it in person right now. I already sold two of them! You were the reason why I wanted to become an entrepreneur!”

Of course, this showing of appreciation—alongside the unboxing video for the headphones inventory—on its own was already heartwarming, but then also consider the message James posted after sharing Averill’s message:

– EMAIL FROM JAMES GREEN TO STAFF –

“I wanted to share this because it made me tear up. I worked with Averill as an [Alumni Youth Educator in 2023. As a Genius, he was quiet but focused and intense and he was neurodivergent, but never let that get in his way of pursuing his dreams. I was not equipped with the skills to support him in all the ways he may have needed, but I did my best. Since then he has continued his pursuit to [build] some headphones for other people who are sensitive to noise and sound. Two years later, he is selling his own headphones he designed, got prototyped overseas, and refined, all on his own with the support of community. This is what it’s all about. I’m proud of this brother and the org’s push to better support neurodivergent learners.

Thank you all for fighting this good fight and remaining Genius Centric!”

After reading this second message, I could not hold back my tears. With my five-year-old neurodivergent son seated nearby and engrossed in his Spotify playlist, I felt compelled to give him an enormous bear hug (bewildered as he was by the fact that I would not let him go, thus keeping him from navigating his playlist). In a year that has presented so many roadblocks for those concerned with expanding access and opportunities for our communities, Averill and James had gifted me a deeply human moment that reminded me that all the intense struggle was well worth it. It brought me a profound feeling of joy.

In that vein, these two dynamic young men have reminded me of so many reasons to choose joy and gratitude in this work, and have led me to several reflections:

• Our young people are hungry to build, grow, support themselves and their families, and transform their communities. Whether or not the adults and institutions in their lives are investing in them, they are going for it.
• We continually underestimate and underrate the multiplier effect our Black male youth have within and beyond their communities, as so many of the young people we work with every day seek opportunities to make what they learn bring about a lasting community impact.
• Many would describe Averill and James– two Black males–as “at-risk” (language we consistently eschew), and yet this year it became common to associate investing in the organizations that support them in tapping their limitless potential with “risk.” Strange as that is, our young people are thankfully not deterred by that; they continue to persist and pursue their goals.
• Not only is it cynical to characterize stories like Averill’s as the product of “DEI”/discrimination, but it also signals a woeful lack of imagination, if not humanity. There has to be a distinction that reasonable human beings can make between resources invested in specific communities as part of a larger ecosystem of support meant to benefit all of society.
• To ask Averill, James, and other young people like them to sit back and hold tight for the next few years while things “blow over” or “calm down” is not only untenable, it is irresponsible. We are all interconnected, so there is no viable path forward in which entire populations have to move without hope, investment, and/or support for their dreams. This is especially true for those who would otherwise say they care about these communities.
• It is worth reiterating: in order for us all to win, we all need Averill and James to win. Neurodivergent individuals with sensory sensitivities need Averill to win; neurotypical individuals who want a more comfortable listening experience need Averill to win. At 19 years old, Averill likely has a few more innovations in him: who knows who among us from whatever corner of the world needs one of his next ideas (I am certain that my son does)? Of course, Averill said it was not until he met James that he determined to be an entrepreneur, which tells us that we have always needed James to win, to make a way for Averill, and the countless Averills yet to come.

In a world in which all of us have never needed Averill and James more, too many of us have deemed it too great a risk to ensure their leadership could emerge–Janiece Evans-Page and LaTosha Brown artfully highlight how subversive philanthropic practices have created existential threats for Black-led and Black-serving community organizations. Yet, our young leaders emerge, nonetheless, and that is why I wept tears of joy. These young people remain unflappable, and I am honored to be part of a community willing to struggle daily to clear a path for their brilliance. I am grateful for all those who continue to link arms to do their part to create opportunities for our communities to thrive.

During a lunch on the day before my doctoral program graduation, my grandmother, Mary Nicholson, seemingly out of nowhere) took it upon herself to remind me:

No matter how bad you think you have it, always remember that your grandmother was born and raised in Jim Crow Tampa, Florida, and she and your great uncles grew up on the other side of town from white folks. The only time we would see them when I was a little girl was if we got to go to the movies on Sunday afternoon; we would have to walk on the other side of the street from them, and avoid eye contact, and we entered the theater via a separate door and sat upstairs. You may or may not know that your grandmother graduated from Fisk University and went on to receive her Master’s in Social Work in Georgia…because the State of Florida paid for it, so as not to have to accommodate aspiring Black students [via a concept known as a segregation scholarship, So, in those moments when you feel like the world is not fair to you, remember your grandmother and those who came before her who worked so hard for you to be able to get to this place.

At this moment in time, I think of that lunch and my grandmother’s words often. No matter how many different ways I slice it, I cannot imagine a dimension in which she would not be mortified if, in this moment, I gave up on the effort to expand our young people’s access to opportunity, because of perceived administrative risks. This is not what she lived for, nor is it what those who came before her died for.

I invite all of us to live in this moment. We are only in this existence for but a short period of time, and so we must decide which risks are worth taking, and who and what has the ability to shape our joy. Averill and James offer us powerful reminders of this fact, and for that, I proudly smile, laugh, sweat, and cry as I joyfully embark upon the risk of clearing pathways for them to build our better future.