The Land of Opportunity

You’ve probably heard me say it before, but I know in my heart that America is the land of opportunity, not oppression. 

I have so many examples of this in my life, from my mama to my grandfather, and even looking in the mirror. 

Where there are obstacles, there are opportunities. I want to take this time to tell you a bit about some of the people in my life that have helped me realize that. 

Let’s start with Grandaddy. 

I think back to my grandfather. A man born in 1921 in Salley, South Carolina; in the Deep South.

By the time he was in the third grade, his education was over. He was forced out of school and had to start picking cotton.

But he lived long enough to watch his grandson pick out a seat in Congress. That’s the evolution of the country we have!

My family went from cotton to Congress in one lifetime. And it was possible because my grandfather had stubborn faith.

He had faith in God… faith in himself… and faith in what America would be.

He looked beyond the pain of his present and saw the promise of the future.

This Black man who struggled through the Jim Crow South believed then what some doubt now: In the goodness of America.

I was seven years old when my parents divorced. We moved in with my grandparents. My mother, my brother and I shared one bedroom in a 700-square-foot rental house.

But my grandfather said: “Son — you can be bitter, or you can be better. But you can’t be both.”

He chose patriotism over pity. He focused on the windshield of life, not the rear-view mirror.

And today, I am living proof that America is a land of opportunity, not a land of oppression.

This isn’t just my story. It’s all of our stories.

The circumstances may be different, the details may change, but every one of us is here because of an American journey where there were obstacles… but also opportunity.

Where there was pain… but also purpose.

My grandaddy had faith, and he passed it on to my mama. 

My mama worked 16-hour days as a nurse’s aide — changing bedpans and rolling patients.

It was hard work. It wasn’t glamorous. Often she wouldn’t get home until after my brother and I were asleep.

But those 16-hour days put food on our table. They kept our lights on. They empowered her to give her boys a life filled with love, promise, and opportunity. 

My mom’s work ethic taught me there is dignity in all work.

It’s why I know if you are able-bodied, you work! Period.

My mama said we could be victims or victors — and she chose to be victorious. 

Now, while my mama was working 16-hour days, I was busy feeling sorry for myself.

She was too busy. We didn’t have money for little treats.

I felt disillusioned and angry. I was a challenged young man who felt the weight of life accumulating on my shoulders.

But when I was about 15, I met John Moniz, a Chick-Fil-A operator.

John came into my life when I really needed a mentor. He started teaching me important business principles.

John showed me that having a job was good, but creating jobs would be even better.

He explained that having an income would determine my lifestyle, but creating a profit could change my community. 

John taught me that anyone, from anywhere, at any time can succeed beyond their wildest imagination.

But first, I had to take responsibility for myself. He told me in the most loving way possible to look in the mirror and blame the face looking back.

Don’t blame my mom who was working long hours. Don’t blame my dad who wasn’t always there. 

Because if I saw the problem in the mirror, then I could also see the promise.

I chose personal responsibility over resentment. I became the master of my fate.

That was a life lesson I learned, but those lessons extended into the classroom. 

Like many poor families, we moved around. I’d been to four different elementary schools by the fourth grade.

My freshman year of high school, I almost failed out. I failed four subjects: English, Spanish, world geography, and civics. 

For anyone who doesn’t know, civics is the study of politics. God has a sense of humor.

And after 10 years in the Senate, I know I’m not the only person in Washington D.C. who’s failed civics!

So that’s where I found my unhappy self. 

My mama was a tireless encourager — still is. But when she saw those grades, she provided a very different form of Southern encouragement!

I went to summer school. I caught up on classes. And I never failed another subject the rest of my life.

I started college on a small football scholarship at a faith-based school.

That’s where I learned that Jesus was my life and football was just a game. 

I found my true identity in the words of Ephesians 3:20 — in “Him who is able to do exceedingly, abundantly, beyond all that we ask or imagine, according to the power that works in us.”

And I graduated with my degree in business from Charleston Southern University.

I have lived the truth that education is the closest thing to magic in America.

But the American Dream that I’ve lived—The American Dream that my family worked so hard to provide for me is under attack every day. Today's kids are growing up immersed in a culture where everyone's a victim.

Sure, America hasn’t always been perfect, but rather than dwell on the past, we need to focus on how far we’ve come. There’s a lot to celebrate, and with the right leadership, America is ready to do just that.

That’s why I’m running for President of the United States. 

I’m looking forward to journaling and reflecting here throughout the campaign, and I hope you’ll follow along. 

God Bless y’all.