There’s a story I often share that happened long before I understood what leadership or resilience even meant.
It’s a story from my childhood.
And in many ways, it’s the reason I’m standing in rooms like this today.
Because statistically speaking, I shouldn’t be here. There were many moments in my life where things could have gone very differently.
But somehow, Creator allowed my journey to unfold in a way that brought me here. And along the way, I learned lessons that I now try to pass on to others.
Where Our Roots Begin
I’m the oldest of four siblings.
I have three younger sisters—Kendra, Farah, and Marissa.
Growing up, my mom did the best she could with what she had. The resources around us were limited, but her determination never was.
For the first few years of my life, both my parents were raising the four of us together. But when I reached kindergarten, something happened that would shake our lives for the first time.
Looking back now, I realize how much our childhood experiences shape the people we become.
The way we solve problems.
The way we speak to others.
The way we treat people.
Many of those habits are rooted in the early lessons we absorb growing up.
And sometimes, if we want to change the outcomes in our lives, we have to go back and understand where those roots were planted.
The Roots of a Mindset
For a long time in my life, I struggled with my mindset around money.
Saving money.
Investing money.
Believing that financial stability was even possible.
That mindset didn’t come out of nowhere.
It came from what I saw growing up.
Watching people live day-to-day.
Watching families survive in constant stress.
Watching cycles of addiction, hardship, and conflict.
Those experiences plant beliefs in your mind, whether you realize it or not.
And one day in my childhood, everything shifted.
A Hot Summer Day
I remember it clearly.
It was a hot summer day just after kindergarten had ended.
I had been dropped off at the end of our long gravel driveway. As I walked toward our little house, something immediately caught my attention.
There was a vehicle parked in front of the house.
That was unusual.
We never had a vehicle.
As I walked closer, I saw my sisters—Kendra, Farah, and Marissa—climbing into the back seat.
Then I saw my mom.
She was rushing around, grabbing garbage bags and boxes, loading them into the truck as quickly as she could.
She looked panicked.
I didn’t understand what was happening.
So I walked up and asked her:
“Mom, what are you doing?”
She looked at me and said:
“Son, go inside. Pack your bag. Hurry.”
Packing Up My Childhood
At that age, I thought we were just going on one of the few trips we ever took.
The only time we left the reserve was for medical appointments. A taxi would take us to the city, usually Prince Albert, for doctor or dental visits.
So in my mind, that’s what this was.
A short trip.
Maybe a couple of days.
And maybe—if I was lucky—we might stop at Walmart.
I ran inside and grabbed my most prized possessions of the 90s.
My Ninja Turtle toys.
I packed them into my backpack, zipped it up, and ran outside.
I tossed my bag into the truck and climbed in beside my sisters.
And just like that, we drove away.
The First Night Away
We headed into the city.
I remember seeing Walmart in the distance and feeling a little disappointed when we drove past it.
Instead, we pulled up to a building and went inside a room.
The room had fluorescent lights on the ceiling and two beds.
The five of us—my mom and her four kids—placed all of our belongings in the corner and slept there.
That room became our home for the next few days.
Then we moved to another room.
Then another place.
Then another city.
As a child, after a while you start asking questions.
When are we going home?
A Child’s Questions
When you’re young, you want stability.
You want to feel like you belong somewhere.
And after a while, I started wondering about the life we had left behind.
I wondered how my dad was doing.
I wondered if we would ever go back.
But the truth was something I wouldn’t fully understand until later.
That day—the day we packed our bags and drove away—was the last time I would live with my father.
The Courage of a Mother
What I didn’t fully understand at the time was the courage behind my mother’s decision.
She was trying to break a cycle.
She was trying to protect her children from an environment she knew wasn’t healthy for us.
She didn’t have a perfect plan.
She didn’t have a guarantee things would get easier.
But she had the courage to change the direction of our lives.
And sometimes, that’s what leadership looks like.
The Lesson in the Story
When I share this story today, it’s not just about my childhood.
It’s about understanding the roots that shape us.
Because every one of us carries stories from our past that influence the way we think, act, and lead.
But those stories don’t have to define our limitations.
They can become the foundation for our growth.
Final Thought
Looking back now, I realize something powerful.
The decisions made in moments of hardship can change the trajectory of generations.
My mother’s courage that day set our family on a different path.
And that path eventually led me to the work I do today—helping others see the power within their own stories.
Because the roots of where we come from don’t have to hold us back.
Sometimes, they’re exactly what help us grow.
hiy hiy
