Before the spotlight.
Before the titles, trophies, and timelines…
There was a child. A backpack. A nervous smile.
And someone who believed in them.
We often celebrate greatness once it’s undeniable.
But what happens before that?
Who shows up in the beginning — when all someone has is potential and a dream?
At BOTWC, we believe those early moments matter just as much as the milestones.
So this back-to-school season, we’re revisiting the stories behind the stories —
the childhood chapters that shaped some of the most influential Black figures of our time.
We talk a lot about success after it happens. But every icon, every leader, every name we know… started out unknown.
Take Michelle Obama. Before she became First Lady and a forever favorite, she was a bookworm at the dinner table, stacking honor roll certificates on Chicago’s South Side. She was the girl who raised her hand. Who sat in the front. Who knew she had to work twice as hard and did.
Or Jason Reynolds. Before his books made it to classrooms across the country, he hadn’t even read one — not a single book — until he was 17. But once he did, he started writing for kids who felt like him. Kids who didn’t always see themselves in the pages. Now, he’s the writer making sure they do.
LeBron James? Before the championships and endorsements, he was a kid in Akron whose mom gave him everything she had. They didn’t have much but she gave him something priceless: belief. She told him he could be great. And he believed her.
Then there’s Beyoncé. Before the global tours and icon status, there were spelling tests, talent shows, and a mama who made every costume by hand. She showed up. She practiced. She studied. She performed like the room was already a stadium.
Tyler, the Creator didn’t fit any mold — so he made his own. Before the Grammys and fashion shows, he was a kid with a sketchpad, wild ideas, and a mind that didn’t sit still. Now he builds worlds. And no one questions the blueprint.
Mae Jemison, the first Black woman in space, was once a science-obsessed girl from Chicago, watching Star Trek and dreaming beyond Earth. She didn’t just want to know how the world worked — she wanted to orbit it.
Lonnie Johnson, the inventor of the Super Soaker, was building rockets from scraps as a kid in Alabama. While other kids were playing with water guns, he was inventing one that would change summers forever.
Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson sat in classrooms where some doubted her. She debated. She studied. She wrote her way to Harvard. Before she became the first Black woman on the U.S. Supreme Court, she learned how to tune out doubt and let her work speak.
And Bayard Rustin — the architect behind the March on Washington. Long before that moment, he was a young organizer, learning from Gandhi and strategizing behind the scenes. He wasn’t always in the spotlight, but he moved it.
Every one of them had a beginning. And every beginning needed belief.
That’s the thread that runs through their stories: Not fame. Not perfection. Not even confidence. Affirmation.
Someone — a teacher, a parent, a friend — saw something in them before the rest of the world did. And that’s the lesson.
You don’t have to know what a child will become to affirm who they are today.
You don’t need to see the destination to walk beside them.
You just need to believe.
So when you see a Black child: Affirm them. Speak life. Offer grace. Invest in their dreams. And remember: Before the world knew them, somebody did. And that someone could be you.
Here’s to an amazing 2025-26 school year!