A Note Before You Read: This was not easy to write. And it was even harder to decide to share. Before putting these words out into the world, I spent time in deep prayer; asking for clarity, courage, and compassion. I needed to be sure that I wasn’t just reacting, but responding with wisdom, grace, and purpose. I asked God to search my heart and guide my voice so that this message would reach the people who need to hear it, in the way they need to hear it.

It wasn’t until I listened to a powerful interview between Jay Shetty and Africa Brooke that I felt my “yes” settle in. In that conversation, they discussed the concept of collective sabotage. How fear, discomfort, and avoidance often lead us to silence the very conversations that can move us forward. (Watch Full Interview Here: https://youtu.be/3tQ0kd1rqlQ?si=TpkUE2jxN8uRgebw )

It hit me. Hard. Because that’s what this moment felt like: a silence dressed in politeness, masking a deeper discomfort with truth-telling. And I realized: staying silent would only add to the sabotage. So, here it is…

Recently, I was humbled and honored to be selected, alongside my husband Mickel, to present at a state conference on a topic that is deeply personal to us: Breaking Generational Barriers: Family Literacy as a Pathway to Community Empowerment. We were ready to share lived experiences, proven strategies, and best practices that demonstrate how literacy changes lives, especially in communities where hope often shows up last.

The presentation was done. Agenda posted on the site. And then came the call. Our session was dropped.

No clear explanation. Just a vague note that the event’s primary sponsor, had influenced decisions around programming. The quiet implication: perhaps our session’s focus on family literacy and community empowerment (tied to personal stories and systemic realities) felt too close to “DEI.” For those who don’t know, that stands for Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion. Too close to humanity.

This is not a rant. It’s a reckoning.

We live in a time where phrases like “opportunity for the under-served, the adult learner, the displaced worker, the single parent” are still being spoken by educational leaders. I want to believe those words are rooted in intention. Dr. John Avendano of Florida State College at Jacksonville recently said them, affirming the Florida College System’s mission to uplift every resident of our state.

And yet, opportunity without lived experience is a half-told story. Education without cultural awareness is an echo chamber. Literacy without relevance is just noise on a page.

I mourn the quiet dismissal of sessions like ours, not because we lost a platform, but because communities like the ones we serve may lose access to solutions they need. When storytelling becomes suspect and the voices of those who’ve lived through generational poverty or systemic exclusion are muted, we don’t just pause progress, we push it backwards.

Family literacy is not a political agenda. It’s a lifeline. It’s a child seeing a parent study for the General Education Development diploma and realizing college is possible. It’s a parent learning to read bedtime stories and also, job applications. It’s dignity wrapped in syllables and opportunity tucked into every sentence.

We don’t need to agree on every term or theory to agree that people matter. That experiences matter. That stories change lives.

To those still listening, I encourage you: keep showing up. Keep advocating. Keep creating spaces where all families—regardless of background—can learn, grow, and be heard. And to institutions who still believe in true community empowerment: don’t let fear of perception rob your mission of its purpose.

Progress can’t be postponed. We’re still here. We’re still building. And we’re not done yet.

As always, I hope this message has encouraged you. To live your life to the best of your ability. To shine brighter each day and be your best self.