I’ve said many times before, “I am ‘just Nick.’” I’ve never been someone who went along with the crowd or looked for validation from people. I was given rules and expectations from my parents, and I was never given an option to not follow those rules or meet those expectations. It was just understood. I know that is difficult for some my age because peer pressure is real, and everyone wants to feel like they belong. My brain just wasn’t wired to care about fitting in, and I’m glad. I think it is ironic to be asked to give my perspective on my senior year, because when I addressed my class and the audience on the night of graduation, I spoke about perspective. I said, “Life is about perspective. It’s not about what you go through, it’s about how you view what you go through.” This year was full of challenges, change, and discovery. Charles Dickens said, “It was the best of times, and it was the worst of times.” This class overcame it all because of how we viewed what lay ahead.
I remember being nervous before and during basketball season whenever someone would sneeze or cough. I would think, “uh oh, we are about to have to quarantine.” One of my fears was that COVID-19 was going to take away the last chance I had to play this season, and I’d lose the momentum that was built over the summer competing against some of the top ranked athletes in Arkansas and the surrounding states. It was do or die for me, so no way I was giving COVID the power to close this chapter of my life. My fall semester was full of high school, college courses, homework, morning workouts, weekend meets and being on the road at least two times during the week training in Dallas, Little Rock and Conway, not to mention all the hours we were sending out my footage to coaches. When you want something bad enough, you just “do what it do.” I need to give a shout out to my parents for their sacrifice and for making me always feel supported. How could I quit when they were working just as hard to help me succeed? The same success I was working for, my classmates and teammates wanted. We just needed the opportunity and support. Giving up would not be an option for our senior year. Never! Graduating and finishing strong was on our bucket list. From our perspective, we were going to make lemonade out of all the lemons that were given to us throughout a year that was not promised. We had goals, and we demolished them as we walked across the stage as the most athletic, attractive, creative, and intelligent class ever to walk the halls of Arkansas High. I’ll be happy to argue each of those points.
It’s hard to talk about my perspective as a senior without talking about everything that led up to this year. The way I overcame and viewed the obstacles that were in my way as a young kid helped me to not focus on the things that I knew I could not change during this challenging year. Overall, I would call this year a huge success because I believed I could succeed in a big way. I was named Valedictorian, finished with a 4.8 grade point average, named All-State and All-Conference in basketball, helped the track team win state, finished top ten and sometimes finished top four in cross-country meets (even though I had never run before), ended my goalie career in soccer with over 50 saves this year, and I committed to playing basketball at Harding University. (I have to give a shout out Harding right here! It was the campus, the private-school Christian environment and the team and coaches for me. Harding had it all.) Don’t think I’m hyping myself up, because I’ve never been about the hype. The worst thing any kid could do at my age is measure their success based on the applause they get. You have to create your own hype and cancel out any noise or silence that makes you feel unworthy or less than someone else. The hype I’m giving is for all the ones who will come behind me that know now that they can be successful even when others say they can’t.
I didn’t think I had a story to tell until two guys approached me in the mall and said they were going to give school a second chance because they saw what I had accomplished with my grades—while “‘ballin’ out.” I had to take a moment to myself to really understand what had just happened. I know what it feels like to be doubted, and looking at those two guys, I felt like many people had probably doubted them, and they hadn’t felt strong enough to change. I also know what it feels like to prove people wrong. That is the satisfaction and reward you get. Quitting can never be an option because it will eventually become a habit. It is too easy to quit, but the satisfaction comes when those who said you couldn’t, have to applaud and watch you defy the odds. It is the difference in choosing to be the light over choosing to be in darkness. Being in darkness requires no effort. Being the light does. Just SHINE, bro/sis! Shine!
If I had listened to what the doctors told my parents and had believed I would always struggle with reading comprehension, math word problems, and following multiple instructions, then I would not have accomplished all I did. I may have had signs of autism, ADHD and didn’t speak a full sentence until I was six years old, but if the doctors only knew how determined I would be to fight, they would have kept every diagnosis they put in my files to themselves. I’ve got to go back to Philippians 4:13 that says, “I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.” Having this mentality wasn’t always easy or popular, but once I made it to high school, I decided I was going to set out to destroy two stereotypes that I saw were very common. The first one was that black males sold drugs, did drugs, were in gangs, or were violent and aggressive, and would end up in jail. I’m a black male, but I didn’t identify with any of those characteristics, so I needed society to know people like me exist! The second stereotype was that athletes do not care about their grades. I did not want to be seen as another athlete that was just trying to make the grade to remain eligible to play. I wanted the A. Don’t get it twisted. My parents were playing NO GAMES with me about the grades I brought home, so I guess fear played at least a small part, but I wanted to be accountable to them and my awesome teachers. I knew I was great at soccer and basketball, and I knew I could play on a collegiate level. I just did not want soccer and basketball to be my only way out. I wanted them to be an option. So, when I entered high school in the 9th grade, I started making posts on my social media that I was #MORETHANASPORT. I’m pretty sure my classmates/teammates thought I was weird, but no one ever said anything about it. They didn’t have to. It was a reminder for me. I knew I wanted people to see me as more than a basketball or soccer player. I wanted them to see me as a young, educated black man who happened to be dominant in four sports. With or without me saying it, they got the message I was sending. Respect me because I am a STUDENT-athlete who can rock the rim and defend the paint.
I’m not sure why I’m wired the way I am, but I know God is intentional and makes no mistakes. Yes, there were times I wondered why he made me so different, because it is not easy being and feeling like you are different. But I held on to what my mom always said, “Your difference will make the difference.” It did. Arkansas High School class of 2021 is full of students with many differences that have made us very special over the years. I never said we were ‘perfect,’ but I do say we are special. James Adams said, “There is so much good in the worst of us and so much bad in the best of us.” We pulled all the good and whatever bad together, and we finished as a class. I think we’re pretty awesome. Razorbacks forever. Razorbacks united.
