You Don’t Have to Be a Cool Kid to Change the World

Growing up, everyone wanted to be “one of the cool kids.” In my school, the cool kids rode every trend. They wore Polo boots, Dr. Marten’s, and Gibraud Jeans. My parents worked extra hard to get me those things because, back then, I thought having that stuff would define me. It would make people like me.

Whenever I got a new outfit, I always wanted to walk up to the teacher’s desk or sharpen my pencil a few times—anything to let the whole class see my new threads. And you know what? It worked. The other kids liked it, but the other kids also had money to keep buying new things. I couldn’t keep up… and it sucked.

But as the years went by, I started caring less about what the cool kids were doing and more about what Baylor wanted to do. They went mudding on weekends, driving big trucks through the mud (don’t ask me why that was cool). I stayed in the gym with my sister while my mom drilled us on dribbling and shooting for hours. They got loud audio systems for their cars; I preferred going to the library with my dad and getting the latest books. I realized I didn’t need to be a cool kid. I wanted to be a legend.

Learning the Value of Being Myself

When I went to college at Baylor, I fell back into the “cool kid” trap. We’d buy chains from the mall, thinking we were balling. We all got the 24” chain until Nelly made 30” chains the new thing, and we had to chase those too. We rocked Platinum Fubu with Fat Albert on the shirts and kept our hair braided. No matter what we did, there was always something newer, cooler, or more expensive we felt pressured to buy.

But gradually, I stopped caring about Rocawear, chains, and braids. I wasn’t on a scholarship yet, so I couldn’t keep buying that stuff. And deep down, I knew those trends weren’t me. My friends made it look dope, but not me.

So, I embraced my individuality. During football practice, we’d “spat” our cleats (taping up the cleats), and I’d draw designs on mine just to have fun with it. I became more vocal in my beliefs and thoughts. I photoshopped my head onto the Heisman trophy and hung it in my locker because I was convinced I’d win it or the Biletnikoff (best wide receiver in the country) award. I didn’t let my lack of playing time stop me from believing that.

Some people called me crazy. Well, most people. But some of my teammates believed in me—not necessarily that I’d win a trophy, but that I’d amount to something because I was staying true to who I was. And it felt good... to be me.

Pursuing My Own Path

I couldn’t afford books, so I’d go to Barnes & Noble and read there. I’d put a bookmark in the book, hide it in the back, and come back the next day to pick up where I left off. I taught myself how to produce and engineer music, create websites, and design graphics. A group of football players and I started a rap group called “The BU Allstars.” We were great. I miss those guys.

When others graduated and got jobs, I stayed in Waco for two more years to continue learning. My best friend J and I spent our time creating business plans instead of doing “cool kid” things. We pitched an idea to the Athletic Director at Baylor, convinced he’d give us hundreds of thousands of dollars to develop it further. He didn’t. Looking back, I see why. But we were ambitious.

We didn’t buy or sell any houses, but we worked hard and kept learning. We even created “The Really Real Show,” an online streaming audio program where we talked about current events. People at Baylor loved it. “It was different.” This was back in 2005, so it’s safe to say we unknowingly invented the podcast. No one was doing that back then.

Living a Non-Cool Kid Life

Over the years, I’ve continued avoiding being the cool kid. I don’t care about trends. I read two books a week instead of following gossip. I prefer plain black V-necks over the latest fashion. Nine out of ten times, you’ll see me wearing that.

I’m not fancy, and I don’t try to impress anyone. I work hard to simplify every aspect of my life. I don’t focus on likes, fans, or making people follow me. My goal is to spread a message that helps people believe in themselves so they don’t have to rely on someone like me. In a perfect world, my videos and messages would be so effective that I’d get zero likes because people would jump off their screens and take action in their lives immediately. That’s the dream.

It’s not popular, and it won’t make me a cool kid. But somewhere, in some small town, there’s a kid without resources or connections, sitting in their room with a big dream. That kid knows they’re different from all the “cool kids.” I live my non-cool kid life, publish my non-cool kid books, and fly around to speak my non-cool kid message… just to show those dreamers that you don’t have to be a cool kid to change the world.